"Dan was right about the missing money. They didn't think anything of it, said it was well within reasonable limits. Can you imagine, $185,000? They treated it like fifty cents. What do you think happens at General Motors? My God, millions must get screwed up every month." He clinked glasses with Jennifer. "Here's to the miscellaneous adjustment. I still don't know whether it was stolen. I doubt it, somehow."
Oliver cut off a piece of cheddar. "Anyway, they took the books back to headquarters, and today they ordered us to switch to a different software package, one that will be standard at all their hospitals. Centralized control. No more local programming. Bye, bye, Oliver." He waved his glass.
"Bye, bye," Emma said. Jennifer hugged her.
"I'm about done now, really. A couple of reports, one more operating system revision . . . I'm a little sad about it. It's surprising how you get to like people. I mean, the Fundamentalists are nutso with all their rules, but they do a lot of good. If you're an overweight single parent with three children, no education, and no job, they'll find a place for you. They work hard, and they help each other. Dan is a really nice guy. And . . ." he stopped. "I just remembered—I have a present; it's in the Jeep. I was going to surprise you."
Oliver returned from outside carrying Suzanne's quilt. "I couldn't resist," he said. He unfolded it and held it up. "It was on display for a month at the hospital, one of the items for their benefit auction. It's handmade. I kept seeing Emma sleeping under it, so I made a bid and got it."
"Oooh," Jennifer said. "Ooooh, Precious, look what Daddy got for you!"
"Do you like it?" Oliver asked.
"It's beautiful," Jennifer said.
"That's what I thought."
"Who made it?"