also glanced at Hazel, whose eyes had gone oddly blank. "He's three. Russell lives with his mother in Chicago. I seldom see him, but I'm very fond of him."
This statement brought a pause.
"You're divorced," Norman said.
"No."
"You're still married?"
"My wife teaches. So do I. A divorce is complicated and expensive. I can't just pick up and go to Reno for six weeks. Besides, there are many unresolved things-Anne is still in analysis, and we're both hoping that maybe-"
Hazel said loudly, "It's nobody's business but yours, Shel. Why discuss it?"
"There's a mince pie," Henny said to Klug in brutal tones, "if you have any room left, that is."
Klug hesitated, and grinned. "Well, I can certainly try to do it justice-"
Hazel switched her head wildly at her mother. "I can't eat another bite. Neither can he, so don't go forcing pie on him. We want to see this French movie at the Fifty-fifth. It's late. Let's go, Shel." She started to rise.
Klug laid a hand on her arm. "Your folks seem surprised, Hazel. Surely you've told them about Anne."
"Who cares? What's it got to do with them? Come on."
"Now, now. Calm down." He turned benignly to the glowering parents. "I trust you're not actually upset. I don't have to justify my way of life to you, any more than you have to explain yours to me, but I do have a code. I live by it. It's an honorable code, though it may not be yours. I live by my autonomous choices. I married a bit too young. Well, that's part of my identity now, which I accept and affirm. This doesn't mean I have to forego other feminine company such as Hazel, not in the least. My chief task is to discover and affirm myself, to say yes! to myself. It's a process in which I'm still engaged."
"Will you say yes to the pie?" growled Henny, standing. "I'll just trot out and get it-"
Hazel shrilled, "You bring that pie, and I'll throw it at you. Sheldon, let's GO."
"Perhaps we had better run along," Klug said to the parents, with an affable smile.
The outside door closed hard, with a metallic chonkl-a. familiar Hazel farewell.
4
They were in a taxicab on the way to Sardi's, and they were caught in the after-theatre jam on Forty-fourth Street. Henny was still trying to calm Norman. "But I ask you-America's thanatos urge!" he shouted, flinging out both hands and sawing the air. "The homosexuality of Pershing's horse! The mythos and the ethos of Athos and Porthos! Jesus Christ, Henny! My daughter taken in by one of those! And the son of a bitch has a wife and child, and she knew it all along! The girl is schizoid!"
"She is not. She's in love, the poor jerk. Stop working yourself up. We're almost there now. Anyway, there's not a thing we can do about it."
'Why? Why can't we try? She was going out with some nice kids, wasn't she? Wet behind the ears, but-"
"Listen, Norm, the one thing that made me stick to you through five lousy years was the way Mama kept fighting against you. All my self-respect got tied up in it, and-" Norman was making an extremely sour face. She said hastily, "Not that I'm comparing the two of you, but-all I'm trying to tell you-"
"I was lean," said Norman. "I was wiry. I was gay. I made jokes. I never took myself seriously, like this fat pontificating slob. I was no angel, but I never slept with another man's wife, and I never deflowered a virgin, even though-"
Henny said tartly, "Okay, dear."
"Look, I mean no offense. I was glad you'd had some experience, and I-"
'Shut up." The pugdog jaw jutted at him, and Norman subsided. Henny stared through the steamy window at the fluttering snow. When she turned to him, after a minute or so, he was surprised and sobered to see tears running down her face. "We brought her into the world, didn't We? She's our daughter. If she's screwing around, who's to blame? He's a drip and let's
This statement brought a pause.
"You're divorced," Norman said.
"No."
"You're still married?"
"My wife teaches. So do I. A divorce is complicated and expensive. I can't just pick up and go to Reno for six weeks. Besides, there are many unresolved things-Anne is still in analysis, and we're both hoping that maybe-"
Hazel said loudly, "It's nobody's business but yours, Shel. Why discuss it?"
"There's a mince pie," Henny said to Klug in brutal tones, "if you have any room left, that is."
Klug hesitated, and grinned. "Well, I can certainly try to do it justice-"
Hazel switched her head wildly at her mother. "I can't eat another bite. Neither can he, so don't go forcing pie on him. We want to see this French movie at the Fifty-fifth. It's late. Let's go, Shel." She started to rise.
Klug laid a hand on her arm. "Your folks seem surprised, Hazel. Surely you've told them about Anne."
"Who cares? What's it got to do with them? Come on."
"Now, now. Calm down." He turned benignly to the glowering parents. "I trust you're not actually upset. I don't have to justify my way of life to you, any more than you have to explain yours to me, but I do have a code. I live by it. It's an honorable code, though it may not be yours. I live by my autonomous choices. I married a bit too young. Well, that's part of my identity now, which I accept and affirm. This doesn't mean I have to forego other feminine company such as Hazel, not in the least. My chief task is to discover and affirm myself, to say yes! to myself. It's a process in which I'm still engaged."
"Will you say yes to the pie?" growled Henny, standing. "I'll just trot out and get it-"
Hazel shrilled, "You bring that pie, and I'll throw it at you. Sheldon, let's GO."
"Perhaps we had better run along," Klug said to the parents, with an affable smile.
The outside door closed hard, with a metallic chonkl-a. familiar Hazel farewell.
4
They were in a taxicab on the way to Sardi's, and they were caught in the after-theatre jam on Forty-fourth Street. Henny was still trying to calm Norman. "But I ask you-America's thanatos urge!" he shouted, flinging out both hands and sawing the air. "The homosexuality of Pershing's horse! The mythos and the ethos of Athos and Porthos! Jesus Christ, Henny! My daughter taken in by one of those! And the son of a bitch has a wife and child, and she knew it all along! The girl is schizoid!"
"She is not. She's in love, the poor jerk. Stop working yourself up. We're almost there now. Anyway, there's not a thing we can do about it."
'Why? Why can't we try? She was going out with some nice kids, wasn't she? Wet behind the ears, but-"
"Listen, Norm, the one thing that made me stick to you through five lousy years was the way Mama kept fighting against you. All my self-respect got tied up in it, and-" Norman was making an extremely sour face. She said hastily, "Not that I'm comparing the two of you, but-all I'm trying to tell you-"
"I was lean," said Norman. "I was wiry. I was gay. I made jokes. I never took myself seriously, like this fat pontificating slob. I was no angel, but I never slept with another man's wife, and I never deflowered a virgin, even though-"
Henny said tartly, "Okay, dear."
"Look, I mean no offense. I was glad you'd had some experience, and I-"
'Shut up." The pugdog jaw jutted at him, and Norman subsided. Henny stared through the steamy window at the fluttering snow. When she turned to him, after a minute or so, he was surprised and sobered to see tears running down her face. "We brought her into the world, didn't We? She's our daughter. If she's screwing around, who's to blame? He's a drip and let's
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