"I took Modern Art at Bowdoin," Jennifer said. "I did a paper on
Alberto Giacometti."
"My God," George said, "Bowdoin? They let you out of the
Impressionists?"
"Oh, yes," Jennifer said. "Giacometti was very good. Cute, too."
"I knew it," Mark said. "Cute."
"How about some turkey?" Oliver suggested.
Bringing the pies turned out to be a good idea; they disappeared quickly. Sam presented Jennifer with a pint on the house. She was treated like a queen by many of the regulars—misty-eyed about motherhood as long as they didn't have to deal with it. Two hours later, she began to yawn. Oliver collected the empty pie dishes, and they drove home, fortified against the cold, pleased to have been accepted as a couple for the first time.
"I like your friends," Jennifer said on the way home. She rubbed her eyes. "It was smoky in there."
"We should have left a little sooner, I guess," Oliver said. "How's
Junior?"
"No complaints."
"That was our coming-out party," Oliver said.