" He laughed heartily. "You'll just have to put up with plain old
Eric. Come in. Come in."
"Woofy is just wonderful," Jennifer said. "She's the nicest dog I ever
had."
"Oofy," Emma said.
"Isn't she, Precious? Yes, she is."
"A great dog--Eric," Oliver said.
"Yes." Eric nodded wisely. He looked into the bag. "Now, what have we
here?"
"For immediate consumption," Oliver said.
"Good!" Eric said.
He's a jerk, Oliver thought, but he's a friendly jerk. Several of
Jennifer's friends were already there. In an hour the house was full of
people Oliver hadn't met. Jennifer moved happily from group to group.
There were many children under ten years old, and there was much
discussion of Montessori and Suzuki methods. The men talked about
business and boats. Oliver wasn't put off by boat talk; he liked boats,
had grown up around them, but he had never needed to own one, had never
wanted to pay for one. These skippers were all cruising in the same
direction: bigger is better. The business they talked was really about
people. No one seemed interested in how to _do_ anything--just in who
said what to whom during the endless reshuffling of executive ranks.
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