“We are,” Jesse said.
Jenn went and sat on the footstool near Amber’s chair.
“How is school, Amber?” Jenn said.
“Sucks,” Amber said. “Don’t you remember school, for crissake? It sucks.”
“Gee,” Jenn said. “I loved school.”
“Sure,” Amber said. “You probably did. You were probably the best-looking girl there, and popular as hell.”
Jenn nodded a small nod.
“Well,” she said. “There was that.”
“You like school, Jesse?” Amber said.
“No,” Jesse said. “To tell you the truth, I thought it sucked, too.”
“See?” Amber said to Jenn.
Jenn nodded.
“You want a Coke?” she said to Amber.
“Yeah, sure, if I can’t have the good stuff,” Amber said.
Jenn got up and got Amber a Coke. Jesse continued to look out at the snow. Jenn came back to stand beside him. Amber refocused on MTV.
“So much for motherly small talk with the kid,” Jenn said.
“Maybe it’s a little soon,” Jesse said, “for motherly.”
“Too soon for me?” Jenn said. “Or too soon for her?”
“You,” Jesse said. “You seem a little…avant-garde…for motherly.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Jenn said.
“It’s an observation,” Jesse said.
“Wouldn’t it be odd,” Jenn said, “if we put this together someday, and we had children.”
“Yes,” Jesse said. “That would be odd.”
“But not bad odd,” Jenn said.
“No,” Jesse said. “Not bad odd.”
The early winter night had arrived. The only snow they could see now was that just past the French doors, illuminated by the light from the living room.
“I saw where Miriam Fiedler got divorced,” Jenn said.
“Yep.”
“I thought that was going to be troublesome.”
“Guess it wasn’t,” Jesse said.
Jenn looked at him for a minute.
“You have something to do with that?” she said.
“I talked with her
