He put on his shoes and got up. There was no other way to leave except by walking past the open alcove of aquariums around her bed, and when he reached the spot, she was sitting up, staring at him and looking furious.

'Jesus!' she said. 'Are you walking out again?'

'What do you want me to do?'

'Jesus, you don't know?' she said. 'I'll tell you, Trumper, if I have to. I won't marry you yet, but if you want to stay around a while, I could wait and see! If you want to stay, you should stay, Trumper!'

'OK,' he said. He wondered if he should take off his clothes.

'Jesus, take off your clothes,' she told him. He did, and then crawled into bed beside her.

She lay turned away from him. 'Jesus,' she mumbled.

He lay without touching her until she rolled over suddenly, seized one of his hands and pulled it roughly to her breast. 'I don't want to make love to you,' she said, 'but you can hold me ... if you want to.'

'I want to,' he mumbled. 'I love you, Tulpen.'

'I guess so,' she said.

'Do you love me?'

'Yes, Jesus, I guess so,' she said angrily.

Slowly some instincts returned to him; he touched her gently all over. He felt where they'd shaved her; it was still stubbly. When the baby woke up for his two o'clock nipple, Trumper was out of bed ahead of her, brought the baby back to the bed and put him to her breast.

'No, the other one,' she said. 'Which one's harder?'

'That one.'

'I get all confused ...' she trailed off and cried softly while she nursed the child. Trumper had his memory in order; he held a diaper to her unused breast knowing it would leak while the other was being sucked.

'Sometimes they really squirt,' she told him.

'I know,' he said. 'They will, when you make love ...'

'I don't want to make love,' she reminded him.

'I know. I was just remarking on it ...'

'You're going to have to be patient,' she said. 'I'm still going to say some things just because I want to hurt you.'

'Sure, OK.'

'You're just going to have to hang around until I don't want to hurt you any more.'

'Sure, I want to hang around,' he said.

'I don't think I'm going to want to hurt you much more,' she said.

'I don't blame you,' he said, which made her angry again.

'Well, it's none of your business,' she said.

'Of course it isn't,' he agreed.

Tenderly she said to him, 'You just better not talk very much, Trumper, OK?'

'OK.'

Tags: John Irving Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net