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Show Motherlunge a novel ^ 181 "Thea, he wouldn't ask me not to tell. Anyway," he said, pushing a piece of dark hair-what people used to call a hank, I think-off his forehead, "He doesn't need to. Why would I mention Steig's wife's pregnancy to Cassie?" "She has a right to know," I said peevishly. "Wouldn't you say that it's her business?" Hi looked at me with an ancient expression-the same face you've seen fused on mummies, woven in tapestries, referred to in diaries, caught on film-it's the Look The Dad Gives The Mom. "Wouldn't you say," Eli said, "That it's none of my business?" I wouldn't have said that; I never say that. In truth, I've never had any idea where this mysterious border-my business, your business-lies. I wander around in the desert, crossing back and forth, abandoned by my coyote and delirious with thirst. Mi casa es su casa. I stared at Eli wavering before me as in a mirage-actually, my feelings were hurt and unfortunately, tears were in my eyes-and swallowed. "And speaking of things that aren't my business," Eli was again moving things around in his camera case, zipping and velcroing all the minutely discriminating compartments, "I've never seen you take a birth control pill, Thea. We've spent the night together how many times?" I shrugged and shook my head; once again that day my heart was jumping under the useless adipose that filled my bra's left cup. "'Uh-uh,' you don't know many nights we^'ve spent together, or 'uh-uh' you don't want to admit you lied to me?" |