OCR Text |
Show Moon -17 put down his book and gazed at her from his easy chair, his eyes soft and kind when she stared at him, bewildered. "Didn't she ever tell you? Her mother used to send her out every Saturday night to bring him back from the tavern because she was the oldest. He might have been a county attorney, but he was also a drunk. That's why he died before you were born. Could be that's why she's got a religion so dead against alcohol." It was the longest speech her father had ever made to her. Anne stood there, her mouth open. Then she said, "She must have loved him more than he deserved." Her father's eyes moved to his hand, which rested, always on his belly, as if ready to press down against a suffering. He sighed deeply. "Yes, I think she did." It seemed only natural now to let David do what he wanted with her. She allowed him to touch her breasts, first outside her clothing; then she let him unbutton her blouse and unsnap her bra. His hands were warmer than anything she'd ever felt and they trembled with a fine eagerness that hummed in her blood like wires. Sometimes he whined like a young animal and his breathing in her ear had the rhythmic urgency of trains. His voice, with the authority of a teacher and the passion of an artist, told her he could not bear it if he could not have her. He said he hadn't gotten drunk for so long now. He was sorry. Wouldn't she please trust him now? He would marry her. He would teach her everything he knew about art. It occurred to her that he didn't notice things about her any more but talked only of his need, as if she had been swallowed by him and were being dissolved in an acid bath of emotion that had nothing to do with her at all. But it |