"'It's his problem,' he said. He called my baby a problem. How could he love me if my baby is a problem?"
"Good question," Oliver said. "Jesus, Jennifer."
She put down her tea and held her arms out to him. "Come feel," she said. She loosened the bathrobe and guided Oliver's hand to her belly, warm and taut.
"Amazing!" Oliver said.
"I'm still getting used to it," she said. "I'm over the morning sickness."
Oliver withdrew his hand slowly and straightened. "What are you going to do?"
"Tonight?"
"Well, for starters . . ."
"I don't know. I just wanted to see you, to tell you. You weren't here when I got home. I couldn't find a parking place anywhere close." Her voice trailed off. "I've got a credit card; I can stay at the Holiday Inn."
"No way," Oliver said. "You might as well stay here. Your clothes are all wet." A relieved smile brightened her face.