"I ran into a friend who's moving," he said. "Sorry to be so long."
"Emma's asleep again."
"Cold out there. Bagels," Oliver said, raising the bag. "I'm hungry."
16.
Emma turned over. Emma crawled. Emma made smiling googling noises when Oliver came home and picked her up. Jennifer had three months of maternity leave, and she arranged to work part time for six months after that. Oliver did not get life insurance, but he worked steadily at the hospital. He took another smaller project to round out the week and to try and get a few bucks ahead.
Francesca did not come into Oliver's mind while he was busy. Sometimes he thought of her when he was extra tired. She was a reassuring presence, even though she was far away. Sunday mornings, when he went out for bagels and a paper, he often wished that he were driving to Crescent Beach to bring her coffee. Instead, he would sit for a minute in his Jeep remembering the calm that they shared. Then he would drive home, play with Emma, and do things around the apartment.
On the Wednesday after Labor Day, Jennifer met him at the door. "I found it, today!"
"Hi, Scrumptious, how's Ms. Perfect?" He held Emma high. "That good, huh? Found what?"
"A house!" Jennifer said. "It's just right. I'm sure you'll like it."
"Oh, yeah? Where?"