"You don't look unhappy—to be a daddy." It was a question.
"Well, I'm not." He was getting used to the idea, feeling a bit proud.
"I like this fruit," she said.
"What do you think we should do?" As the words came out of his mouth, Oliver knew that he had crossed a line. The line had been crossed already—she was going to have his, their, baby—but he hadn't admitted it. We.
She looked at him for a moment and dropped her eyes. She poked around in her fruit with her spoon. "We could be happy," she said quietly.
"We'll need a crib or something," Oliver said.
A tear splashed on Jennifer's fruit bowl. "Yes. Yes, a crib. And a baby blanket."
"A car seat," Oliver said solemnly. Jennifer wiped her face clean.
"A car seat." She giggled. "Apple pie. Do you like apple pie?"
"You're kidding," Oliver said. "Of course."