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Jack
gave
his
son
a
faint
,
troubled
glance
;
and
then
his
mind
turned
to
his
play
.
Love
was
over
,
and
her
man
was
sleeping
beside
her
.
Her
man
.
She
smiled
a
little
in
the
darkness
,
his
seed
still
trickling
with
slow
warmth
from
between
her
slightly
parted
thighs
,
and
her
smile
was
both
rueful
and
pleased
,
because
the
phrase
her
man
summoned
up
a
hundred
feelings
.
Each
feeling
examined
alone
was
a
bewilderment
.
Together
,
in
this
darkness
floating
to
sleep
,
they
were
like
a
distant
blues
tune
heard
in
an
almost
deserted
night
club
,
melancholy
but
pleasing
.
Lovin
’
you
baby
,
is
just
like
rollin
’
off
a
log
,
But
if
I
can
’
t
be
your
woman
,
I
sure
ain
’
t
goin
’
to
be
your
dog
.
Had
that
been
Billie
Holiday
?
Or
someone
more
prosaic
like
Peggy
Lee
?
Didn
’
t
matter
.
It
was
low
and
torchy
,
and
in
the
silence
of
her
head
it
played
mellowly
,
as
if
issuing
from
one
of
those
old
-
fashioned
jukeboxes
,
a
Wurlitzer
,
perhaps
,
half
an
hour
before
closing
.
Now
,
moving
away
from
her
consciousness
,
she
wondered
how
many
beds
she
had
slept
in
with
this
man
beside
her
.
They
had
met
in
college
and
had
first
made
love
in
his
apartment
…
that
had
been
less
than
three
months
after
her
mother
drove
her
from
the
house
,
told
her
never
to
come
back
,
that
if
she
wanted
to
go
somewhere
she
could
go
to
her
father
since
she
had
been
responsible
for
the
divorce
.
That
bad
been
in
1970
.
So
long
ago
?
A
semester
later
they
had
moved
in
together
,
had
found
jobs
for
the
summer
,
and
had
kept
the
apartment
when
their
senior
year
began
.
She
remembered
that
bed
the
most
clearly
,
a
big
double
that
sagged
in
the
middle
.
When
they
made
love
,
the
rusty
box
spring
had
counted
the
beats
.
That
fall
she
had
finally
managed
to
break
from
her
mother
.
Jack
had
helped
her
.
She
wants
to
keep
beating
you
,
Jack
had
said
.
The
more
times
you
phone
her
,
the
more
times
you
crawl
back
begging
forgiveness
,
the
more
she
can
beat
you
with
your
father
.
It
’
s
good
for
her
,
Wendy
,
because
she
can
go
on
making
believe
it
was
your
fault
.
But
it
’
s
not
good
for
you
.
They
had
talked
it
over
again
and
again
in
that
bed
,
that
year
.
(
Jack
sitting
up
with
the
covers
pooled
around
his
waist
,
a
cigarette
burning
between
his
fingers
,
looking
her
in
the
eye
-
he
had
a
half
-
humorous
,
halfscowling
way
of
doing
that
-
telling
her
:
She
told
you
never
to
come
back
,
right
?
Never
to
darken
her
door
again
,
right
?
Then
why
doesn
’
t
she
hang
up
the
phone
when
she
knows
it
’
s
you
?
Why
does
she
only
tell
you
that
you
can
’
t
come
in
if
I
’
m
with
you
?
Because
she
thinks
I
might
cramp
her
style
a
little
bit
.
She
wants
to
keep
putting
the
thumbscrews
right
to
you
,
baby
.
You
’
re
a
fool
if
you
keep
letting
her
do
it
.
She
told
you
never
to
come
back
,
so
why
don
’
t
you
take
her
at
her
word
?
Give
it
a
rest
.
And
at
last
she
’
d
seen
it
his
way
.
)
