"Because Amy would prefer to wait, that's why."
Aarons looked at him, and then at me, peevishly. Finally he shrugged. "If you insist."
"We'll talk about it next week," I said. I was so tired I could hardly look up at him. I stood up, and smiled at my girl. Poor kid, I thought. So excited and eager about it now. And not one idea in the world of what she was walking into.
Certainly Aarons would never be able to tell her.
Later, when they were gone, Lambertson and I walked down toward the lagoon. It was a lovely cool evening; the ducks were down at the water's edge. Every year there was a mother duck herding a line of ducklings down the shore and into the water. They never seemed to go where she wanted them to, and she would fuss and chatter, waddling back time and again to prod the reluctant ones out into the pool.
We stood by the water's edge in silence for a long time. Then Lambertson kissed me. It was the first time he had ever done that.
"We could go away," I whispered in his ear. "We could run out on Aarons and the Study Center and everyone, just go away somewhere."
He shook his head slowly. "Amy, don't."
"We could! I'll see Dr. Custer, and he'll tell me he can help, I know he will. I won't need the Study Center any more, or any other place, or anybody but you."