She laced their coffees with some Kahlua she had sitting around. They sat together on the couch in the small living room.“Ah, this is nice,” Maggi... said, sitting back and stretching. “Long day.”“Yeah, that slave-driver boss of yours needs to give you a raise,” Brad said, with a laugh.“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’ll go on strike.”“Do it. We can make signs and picket outside the store. Unionize!”Maggie laughed. “Nah, Dad’s okay. Besides, there’s a different kind of union I’ve been thinking. Not every night, as had once been our custom, but frequently enough to keep the nervousness and edginess off both of us. I rationalized this by telling myself it wasn't good for the baby to have a mother who spent so much of her time crying while carrying him or her. I knew I had other reasons for wanting to do it, but I figured it would be better to keep doing what we were, at least until after the baby came.A month after I'd fired her, I gave Anita her job back. It made no sense for me to. More

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