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"Nah," Oliver said. "Never mind. How's Precious?"
"Precious had a good nap. See you in a couple of hours."
"Down," Emma said. "Down."
"O.K.," Oliver said. "Down, it is." He put her on her hands and knees in the center of the living room rug. He heard the Volvo start and race down the driveway. Too fast, he thought--hard on the front end. Emma made a laughing sound as she crawled around in a small circle, the way Verdi used to chase his tail. She rolled over, sat up, and looked at him with delight.
"What a show off!" he said. "Very good crawl. Very good. Want to try the toddle? Try the walk?" He got to his knees and closed her hand in his fist. "Try walk?"
"Da Da," she said. He pulled her slowly to her feet. Her other arm went out for balance and she sat back down.
"Very good!" Emma smiled victoriously.
"She almost stood up," he told Jennifer when she got back. "I'll bet she's walking in a couple of months."
"I hope you're not pus.h.i.+ng her."
"The Olympic Trials are right around the corner."
"Oh, Oliver. The Germans always win the baby walk."
Oliver laughed. "What's for dinner?"
"Pizza--pesto and chicken."
"G.o.d," Oliver said.
"Oh, something good happened at The Conservancy. Jacky Chapelle dropped by--remember Jacky? She's in town for a week. She said she'd come to the party."
"Ah . . ." Oliver cleared his throat. "I like Jacky."
"I thought you did."
"Surprised she isn't married," he said, "a bit bossy, I guess." He shook his head sadly, reactivating the "creep" sign.
"Well, you're taken."
"Quite so," Oliver said. "Just another hungry breadwinner."
"Half an hour. Oh, Precious, did Daddy make you walk?"
"Mama," Emma said as Oliver retreated to the barn.
It was good that Jacky was coming, Oliver decided; it meant that she had forgiven him or gotten over it or something. Maybe she had a new lover. That was a cheerful thought. He was in a good mood when Jennifer called him in for dinner.
In the following days, Oliver stayed away from Suzanne as much as possible. The few times that they were by themselves were uncomfortable, but at least they could show the hurt they felt, even if they didn't talk about it. Pa.s.sing in the hallway was harder. Others would notice if they tried to ignore each other; they were forced to be friendly in a phony way, as though they didn't feel the force drawing them together. Suzanne began to look strained. Oliver kept his head down and worked hard.
The day of the party was gray and drizzly, warm for late fall. Oliver stood in the open door of the barn, holding a paper cup of ale and welcoming guests. By mid-afternoon, cars were parked around the first bend of the driveway. Thirty or forty people were milling about in the house giving Jennifer advice and admiring Emma. Jennifer was flushed and pleased. She kept the conversations lively while she brought appetizers in and out of the kitchen. Porter had come through with a quant.i.ty of scones, apricot--walnut and cranberry--orange. Oliver took special pleasure in pouring a Glenlivet for Arlen. They stood in amiable silence as rain dripped from the barn roof.
"Couple of cows and I'd be right at home," Arlen said.
"I've been thinking of getting a little John Deere."
"Well--they can come in handy."
"I guess." Oliver's thoughts drifted to Jacky. She appeared, on cue, walking up the drive. He met her with a hug. "Jacky! You look great."
She held him tightly and then stepped back, knuckling the top of his head.
"How's married life?"
"Fine," he said. She looked at him closely.
"I'm thinking of trying it myself," she said. "I don't know."
"Uh, Jacky, this is my buddy, Arlen."
"How do you do," Arlen said, extending his hand.
"A pleasure to meet you," Jacky said. "What's that in your gla.s.s?"
Arlen held his gla.s.s up for inspection. Jacky bent forward and sniffed.
"Sarsaparilla!"
"Quite good on a rainy afternoon," Arlen said.
"Yumm," Jacky said.
"Oliver, sarsaparilla for the lady."
"Right away. Does the lady like water with her sarsaparilla?"
"Half and half."
"Yes," Arlen said approvingly. Oliver prepared her drink and handed it to her.
"To your new family and your beautiful old house," she toasted.
"Jacky! How nice!" Jennifer swept in and gave Jacky one of those lengthy woman to woman hugs, timed to the microsecond to communicate eternal devotion, unceasing turf vigilance, equality before the Great Sister, and other messages beyond Oliver's understanding. Arlen exuded calm; the two women might have been cows rubbing shoulders. "Come and see Emma." Jennifer led Jacky into the house.
Arlen and Oliver resumed their positions in the doorway. "I don't want to intrude, Oliver, but wasn't she the one . . ."
"Yup," Oliver interrupted. "She was."
"Interesting," Arlen said. "Very attractive."
"What do you think makes someone attractive?" Oliver asked.
"Hmmm. Physical health. Energy. Integrity is most important, I think."