— What.
— Jack if I went away for, if I have to go away for a little you won’t go back out there will you? What will you do?
— Thinking about that book I, about trying to get back to work on that book I…
— Would you? I’ve been afraid to ask, I’ve been almost afraid it wasn’t true… her hand skimmed down, — you told me what it was about once but…
— About a lot of things it’s, can’t say what a book’s about before it’s done that’s what any book worth reading’s about, problem solving.
— It’s a silly question I’m sorry, people always…
— No it’s about a man who, about the war…
— War? but I thought…
— And a general who, he’s like your father there molding his nose, above the battle, he’s a confusion of this man’s ideas of his own father and the Lord, the way the Lord sold Faust out in that wager…
— I didn’t know you were in a war I thought it was about, about art, she said, rested on his knees peaked up behind her, — but it doesn’t matter if it’s really, if you’ll really go back to work on it, Jack? she bent toward him, — who’s Stella?
And his rise to his elbows brought his legs tight pressing her breasts close to hide the warmth already rising there between them abruptly stilled. — Stella?
— You mentioned her on the train, I only wondered…
— She was, she’s just someone who…
— The one who came out to the school? in fur? and you introduced me to her as Mrs diCephalis honestly, I couldn’t imagine why but, she’s quite lovely, isn’t she.
— Looking yes, but… he eased back up again in view against her where her own hand paused, and fled to measure ribs, — remember that field trip in that Christ awful cafeteria, Edward Bast, she’s his cousin she’d just come out there to…
— Of course I remember him, someone I know in fact’s just given him a commission… her hand came back on fingertips, — the last person on earth I’d imagine rescuing an artist but I was delighted someone’s helping him along, he’s so…
— Feeling everybody in sight’s helping him along, problem’s what the hell he’s doing himself.
— But, what do you mean?
— Tell you the truth I don’t know, I just heard this place he’s working in uptown is filling up with office equipment he…
— How really odd… she looked down where her fingertips stroked upward, toward her throat, — that card, I never understood what…
— Problem seems to be he just can’t settle down to one thing.
She whispered — What a shame, that warmth tumescent now gone fierce with color channeled in whiteness as she bent down to reach the distance to his shoulder, slip moist toward color ringed around, — I think he’s dear… she reached to raise him closer, — Jack!
— What…
— Here turn your neck… she seized his arm, pulled it across his chest, — how, no did I do that!
— But what…
— You’re just covered with, Jack there’s blood I couldn’t have done it there are scratches all down your back deep ones, did I? She pulled him further, — yes and all down your Jack it must have hurt I couldn’t have…! she came down on his chest where his arms rose to hold her and then slip slowly down her back, drawing her knees close mounting those slopes abruptly rising in the mirror beyond where her hand came in search and both of his to part them wide, bring them down gorged, all mirrored semblances of curve and line unfaded white and smoothness too much gazed at asunder in his hands for hair and color targeted in her plunges, until they slowed, one leg of hers came straight and then the other, and all the mirror held was bedhead and the lamp where her hand rose, and darkness emptied it. — Jack? don’t you want something on those places they must hurt, I feel so badly, Jack? aren’t I heavy?
He simply held her closer to say — I… and cleared his throat to say, — I love you, and held her there until her weight subsided, turned from him when he raised the sheet in sunlight, cleared his throat gazing under before he dropped it back, slipped out for coffee none the worse for standing overnight, news none the better for a day, or days, he bunched the paper suddenly looking for its date, over the sofa’s arm muttering — Christ… dialing, — Hello…? Yes yes it is look I… No about getting out there to see her today, I’ve been… what? What do you mean yesterday it’s… Look I’m not trying to change any agreement on anything, I just… All right I’m sorry! look can you let me talk to her for a… Listen I don’t want to get into all that now, if the lawyers say it’s settled I don’t want to start… And with this kind of settlement you can’t even buy her one God damned pair of boots? What… No I know it you can’t pay for her school lunches you even borrow the God damned allowance I send her look can you… Look I don’t want to hear about your God damned water heater! Can you just put her on the God damned phone for a minute so I can… Well then can you tell her next week? Is it too God damned much trouble to tell her I’ll take her out to get the kind of boots she wants next week? And can you tell her I’m sorry I… and he sat there holding it away, staring at it for a moment before he crashed it down.
— Jack what… she came in pulling the robe close, — smashing the phone down that way you know I’m waiting for…
— What wait what do you mean? It wasn’t for you it was, were you listening?
— Oh, no… she sat down slowly, — I just woke up when I heard you on the phone I thought it might be Daddy I’m, I’m sorry I’m just nervous…
— Well it wasn’t Daddy and it wasn’t Mister whatever his name is you don’t want me to answer your phone do you?
She looked at him for a moment before she got up. — No…
— Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you, where are you going.
— Isn’t there more coffee? She came back to set it down saucerless. — Do you think you could button that shirt up just a little? and as she bent down to sit, — Jack did you do this?
— What, he muttered concentrating on mismatching button to buttonhole, — get to the point of the English suicide left the note too many buttons to button and unbutton…
— Jack?
— Used to have a friend who couldn’t stand them even the word called them fifty-threes, what?
— Did you stuff all these paper bags under this seat cushion?
— Oh, forgot all about them yes, he looked up square into nulliparous shadow, swallowed, — that first night we…
— But why on earth… she brought the robe closed, sitting back.
— I just save paper bags Amy. Anything wrong with saving paper bags?
She just looked at him, brought up her cup. — Is something wrong? and she drank looking over the rim, — Jack? It’s not us, it’s not me is it?
— No it’s just, I don’t know look you’re not even thirty Amy not even near it I’m old enough to…
— But, whatever made you think of that Jack how silly! What difference does it make?
— I don’t know just, things you say sometimes I just…
— But what, what things…
— I don’t know just things like, well like Bast this Edward Bast how dear he is and…
— But he is dear Jack you can’t be, you can’t be that unkind Jack you can’t be serious he’s younger than I. And I scarcely know him but he’s so sincere and shy and enthusiastic and that, that kind of touching desperation about him he’s so, young is that what you mean?