re
easier. They happened or they didn't in a great rush. Jennifer couldn't
find a book that she wanted to read. She took a copy of _Wooden Boat
Magazine_ upstairs, and Oliver followed her awkwardly.

They lay side by side while she paged through the magazine. "I like
this one." She pointed out a 32 footer at anchor in Penobscot Bay. The
builder and his wife were enjoying cocktails. A golden retriever was
slumped near the bow, his head between his paws.

"Nice," Oliver said. "I wonder if Verdi would like it. Remember Verdi,
my cat? Verdi, where are you anyway?"

"I haven't seen him since I got here," Jennifer said.

"He's hiding. Anti-social. He'll come out when he's hungry."

"I'm not hungry now," Jennifer said, putting down _Wooden Boat._ "That
was a good dinner. Thanks for taking care of me."

"You're welcome." Oliver turned out his light.

"Nighty night," she said and rolled to her side. The comforter went
with her. She switched off her light and snuggled back against him. He
pulled the comforter back over him and brushed her hip with his hand.

"I'm glad you came," he said.

"Don't be a stranger," she said, settling closer. Her body was warm and
self-contained. He patted her in response and said nothing. A baby? He
lay there as Jennifer fell asleep. Her breathing was steady and
unhurried. There was a lot to figure out. In the morning . . . He'd
figure out what to do in the morning.

He awoke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Jennifer climbing the
steps. "Here you are, Sleepy." She put a mug and a small glass down
near his head. "Milk in here. You don't use sugar, do you? I don't
remember you taking sugar."

"Mmmughh. No. Thanks."

"I'll be right back." She returned with another cup and sat beside him,
leaning back on a pillow propped against the wall.

"Good," Oliver said, balancing the mug on his chest.

"Do you like it strong?"

"Yes," he said. "I mean--while you're at it. I usually buy a dark
roast."

"That's what I like," Jennifer said. "Organic." She drank and put down
her mug. "Do you think I'm awful?"

"Huh? No. Why should I?"

"Well, being a loose woman and all that. And then barging in without
any warning."

"What else were you going to do?"

"I'm not awful?" She smiled and turned closer.

"Of course not."

"You're not mad at me?" Oliver shook his head. "Well--could I have a
little hug?" She moved down and opened her arms. The bathrobe fell
open. Oliver put down his mug