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Show •95 "How many drinks did you have?" The tears were gone; she sounded like her aunt. "Enough to see things clearly." I pulled her down beside me on Maybelle's big four-poster bed, on top of the Mexican lace spread, and kissed her on the neck. She tried to twist away but at the same time I felt her barely beginning to go easy- She started to sob again, but softly, so she could hear. "Listen to me." I pressed my lips against the tender convolutions of her ear; my face was tangled in her hair. "Listen now. We can go away. We can save ourselves. We can be happy forever." "That's not serious, Buck." "We'll be rich as hell, I promise. But you have to love me a lot. We'll have children." I guessed from the arch of her back against my hand that she was still fighting the idea but I felt that she would soon yield. I bit her ear lobe, a thing I knew delighted her, and moved downward to kiss her at that delicate place where the jaw hinges, forming a hollow of mutable shape. It was a tender moment. "Oh love me," I said, wanting her to. "Well!" The bedroom door slammed open. I sat up. Maybelle's eyeglasses jumped up and down on her agitated bosom. When she was being sentimental there was sometimes a soft Okie drawl at the bottom of her voice; just now it was pure East Texas oilfield-flat twangy and mean. |