"All dry," Jennifer said, brushing a hand over her skirt.
"Here's a hat, if you want it. Could rain any time. We'd better drive.
Hey, you look good in a Mariner's hat."
"I like hockey," she said. "Not the fighting, the skating. They are such great skaters! My father used to take me to Bruins games. My car or yours?"
"Doesn't matter. Mine's closer."
"I love Jeeps," she said, getting in. As they turned down Park Street, Oliver began to be troubled. When he parked at Becky's, he realized that he was worrying about Francesca. He imagined her face, calm and questioning. What if she were there? He took a deep breath, pulled open the front door, and walked in. No Francesca. Good—one problem put off for another time.
He chose a table at the far end of the diner and sat facing the wall.
Jennifer made herself comfortable and surveyed the crowd.
"I like it here," she said. "I don't know why I don't come here more often."
"Good place," Oliver said. Jennifer ordered a fruit bowl with granola and yogurt. He asked for bacon and eggs, homefries with green peppers and onions, and Texas toast. "Cruise all day on this," he said when the waitress delivered. He took a bite of bacon. They couldn't put off the conversation forever. "So—my baby, huh?"
Jennifer smiled. "Your baby. You're the man."
"I'll be damned." He found himself grinning.