child’s world strange grownups are indistinguishable as trees in a forest.
Even the writing on the back of those photographs was probably, now that he thought of it, Lulu’s.
They went away, started shooting their guns, and then Bev was left with the unexpected problem of the mother of his son, the woman He would just as soon forget. During a moment of adjustment, however, he decided to go through whatever set of ma nip80 MEN–ado W WON Ulations were necessary. He wanted to handle the situation in the ideal, firm, but diplomatic manner. And then, after he’d recovered from the strength of her hug, he had absolutely no doubt that things would go on according to his plan.
“My my my,” he said to Lulu now. She was buttering a piece of bread soft as the plump undersides of her arms. “Lot of water under the dam.”
She agreed, taking alert nips of her perfectly covered slice. She had sprinkled a teaspoon of sugar over it, carefully distributing the grains. That was how she was. Even with eight boys her house was neat as a pin. The candy bowl on the table sat precisely on its doily. All her furniture was brushed and straightened. Her coffee table held a neat stack of Fate and True Adventure magazines. On her walls she’d hung matching framed portraits of poodles, kittens, and an elaborate embroidered portrait of Chief Joseph. Her windowsills were decorated with pincushions in the shapes of plump little hats and shoes.
“I make these.” She cupped a tiny blue sequined pump in her hand.
“You have a girl friend? I’ll give it to you. Here.”
She pushed the little shoe across the table. It skittered over the edge, fell into his lap, and Beverly retrieved it quickly, for he saw that her hand was following. He set the blue slipper between them without addressing her implicit question on his status-girl friend, married, or just looking around. He was intent on bringing up the subject of Henry junior.
“Remember that time . he started. Then he didn’t know what he was going to say. What did come out surprised him.
“You and me and Henry were playing cards before you got married and the boys were sleeping?”
He could have kicked himself for having blurted that out. Even after all these years he couldn’t touch on the memory without running a hand across his face or whistling tunelessly to drive it from his mind. It didn’t seem to have bothered her all these years though. She picked up the story smoothly and went on.
“Oh, you men,” she laughed chidingly. Her face was so little like Beverly’s flour sacking doll he wondered how he had stood imagining her that way all these years. Her mouth was small, mobile, like a puckering flower, and her teeth were unusually tiny and white. He remembered having the urge to lick their smoothness once. But now she was talking.
“I suppose you thought you could take advantage of a poor young woman. I don’t know who it was, you or Henry, that suggested after several too many beers that we change our penny ante poker game to strip. Well I still have to laugh. I had you men right down to your boxer shorts in no time flat, and I was sitting there, warm and cozy as you please. I was still in my dress with my shoes on my feet.”
“You had them beads on, clip earrings, bangle bracelets, silk stockings,” Beverly pouted.
“Garters and other numerous foundation garments. Of course I did. I am a woman of detachable parts. You should know by now. You simply weren’t playing in your league with strip poker.”
She had the grace to put a hand to her lips as they un curved hiding the little gap-toothed smile he’d doted over at the time of that game.
“Want to know something I never told before?” she said. “It was after I won your shorts with my pair of deuces and Henry’s with my eights, and you were naked, that I decided which one to marry.
Beverly was shocked at this statement, bold even for Lulu. His wind felt knocked out of him for a moment, because her words
Even the writing on the back of those photographs was probably, now that he thought of it, Lulu’s.
They went away, started shooting their guns, and then Bev was left with the unexpected problem of the mother of his son, the woman He would just as soon forget. During a moment of adjustment, however, he decided to go through whatever set of ma nip80 MEN–ado W WON Ulations were necessary. He wanted to handle the situation in the ideal, firm, but diplomatic manner. And then, after he’d recovered from the strength of her hug, he had absolutely no doubt that things would go on according to his plan.
“My my my,” he said to Lulu now. She was buttering a piece of bread soft as the plump undersides of her arms. “Lot of water under the dam.”
She agreed, taking alert nips of her perfectly covered slice. She had sprinkled a teaspoon of sugar over it, carefully distributing the grains. That was how she was. Even with eight boys her house was neat as a pin. The candy bowl on the table sat precisely on its doily. All her furniture was brushed and straightened. Her coffee table held a neat stack of Fate and True Adventure magazines. On her walls she’d hung matching framed portraits of poodles, kittens, and an elaborate embroidered portrait of Chief Joseph. Her windowsills were decorated with pincushions in the shapes of plump little hats and shoes.
“I make these.” She cupped a tiny blue sequined pump in her hand.
“You have a girl friend? I’ll give it to you. Here.”
She pushed the little shoe across the table. It skittered over the edge, fell into his lap, and Beverly retrieved it quickly, for he saw that her hand was following. He set the blue slipper between them without addressing her implicit question on his status-girl friend, married, or just looking around. He was intent on bringing up the subject of Henry junior.
“Remember that time . he started. Then he didn’t know what he was going to say. What did come out surprised him.
“You and me and Henry were playing cards before you got married and the boys were sleeping?”
He could have kicked himself for having blurted that out. Even after all these years he couldn’t touch on the memory without running a hand across his face or whistling tunelessly to drive it from his mind. It didn’t seem to have bothered her all these years though. She picked up the story smoothly and went on.
“Oh, you men,” she laughed chidingly. Her face was so little like Beverly’s flour sacking doll he wondered how he had stood imagining her that way all these years. Her mouth was small, mobile, like a puckering flower, and her teeth were unusually tiny and white. He remembered having the urge to lick their smoothness once. But now she was talking.
“I suppose you thought you could take advantage of a poor young woman. I don’t know who it was, you or Henry, that suggested after several too many beers that we change our penny ante poker game to strip. Well I still have to laugh. I had you men right down to your boxer shorts in no time flat, and I was sitting there, warm and cozy as you please. I was still in my dress with my shoes on my feet.”
“You had them beads on, clip earrings, bangle bracelets, silk stockings,” Beverly pouted.
“Garters and other numerous foundation garments. Of course I did. I am a woman of detachable parts. You should know by now. You simply weren’t playing in your league with strip poker.”
She had the grace to put a hand to her lips as they un curved hiding the little gap-toothed smile he’d doted over at the time of that game.
“Want to know something I never told before?” she said. “It was after I won your shorts with my pair of deuces and Henry’s with my eights, and you were naked, that I decided which one to marry.
Beverly was shocked at this statement, bold even for Lulu. His wind felt knocked out of him for a moment, because her words
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