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Show 145 their backs in a bath of strained carrot. He turned off the light and went back to the bedroom. Adding up the day's offenses, he tried to think how to go about this. He took off his clothes and threw them in piles around the floor, humming tunelessly. He flipped the light on and off, opened and slammed drawers in the dresser. She didn't seem to notice. His state of mild arousal surprised him a little in view of the cold fury he had nursed all day. He rattled hangers in the closet. Finally he yanked up the covers on his side of the bed and settled as heavily as he could onto his back, groaning and sighing, and felt her press against him as his weight changed the center of gravity on the mattress. He lay there without moving for a minute, and then turned onto his left side just as she turned onto hers. For another minute they lay there like spoons, bare inches of negative space between them. He noticed he had grown and was now touching her just above the coccyx. He turned over, grunting, onto his right side, and waited. Long minutes dragged past and she did not turn over- He lay there blinking into the darkness, watching a thread of moonlight disappear on the baseboard across the room. He watched golden ants creep out of pockets in the walls and scatter like embers from a grass fire. Once before morning he dreamed briefly of the girl with the bangs in the Coach and Seven. She stood at the top of some stairs talking to someone and held under her arm a rolled-up blueprint that he knew was really one of his canvases in disguise. He was flattered, but couldn't help worrying that in taking it off the stretcher frame she had not been careful about removing the staples and had torn the edges. He tried to look without being obvious, because there was no point in offending her if she hadn't, but at that moment she turned her head and brushed his face with her hair. "Excuse me," he said. |
