Stephen Dixon - Gould

Bronson was asleep when Gould passed her room on his way to his and said goodnight to her. She said “May I detain you for a moment?” and he said “Sure, what?” and stood by her door. “Despite all our previous differences, I have to say it’s nice having you back, if only for a few days. For all the turmoil and shit we threw at each other, we had plenty of fun too, am I right?” and he said “I’m not complaining.” She was in her nightgown, sitting up in bed, holding a book with one hand, other was under the covers on her crotch, it seemed, and seemed to be rubbing or scratching it. “I’ve seen lots of guys since we split up — you know me — but so far no crushing inamoratos or permanent live-ins,” and he said “Oh yeah? I’m surprised,” and she said “Nobody who interested me that much — I’m so pick-and-choosy as you well know. But there are plenty of single men in the area, not to mention a million college studs who perhaps have become a mite too young for me, and things will eventually work out,” and he said “I’m sure.” “Do you like my new bed? I bought it a few months ago. Cost me a bundle but I figured if I don’t have a live-in to be comfortable with when I sleep, might as well have a great bed, am I right?” and he said “It’s what I’d do if I had the dough. The bed in the apartment we sublet is mostly lumps. We sort of sleep around them,” and she said “Yours here isn’t that comfortable either — I’ve never slept in it but I have slept on it — but you’ll get a good night’s sleep if you’re tuckered out from your flight,” and he said “I hope so. I don’t know which time switch is supposed to be harder on your system, east-west or west-east, but I’m all in.” “You know, I might as well come to the point why I stopped you, other than to reacquaint ourselves cordially with a pleasant chat. I’m dying to get fritzed by some guy. So if you’d like to, not for old time’s sake but only because you’d want to, I’d be willing. Some nights I’m just randier than others and this is one. It could be because you’re here and old memories float up — you think that’s it? And we were always compatible in the sack, when we weren’t pissing each other off famously,” and he said “Really, I’m living with someone now and I’d just feel funny about it. And will you please stop whatever you’re doing with your hand under the covers? It’s distracting, in a way,” and she said “I’m scratching myself, my leg, so what’s bugging you? I’ve a bad itch. You want me to put some cortisone cream on it, I will. As for your decision, good, you’re entitled, and your girlfriend will be proud of you when you report back on your abstinence, especially when I practically offered myself to you on a saucer, and I’m not going to get testy about it. I’d probably feel the same if I were seeing someone steadily and was a guest of yours in New York, even though wild horses and a million bucks wouldn’t drag me to that city, and you were living alone and put the make on me. But what I’d wish now is that you weren’t here so I could place a call to some guy to come over; there are a couple who would,” and he said “Do it then, I don’t mind,” and she said “It’s not a question of your minding,” and he said “I mean I’ve no hold over you. I’ll keep my door closed; if I have to pee, I won’t even go to the bathroom, I’ll do it in a jar in my room. And you can explain to the fellow who I am or was and that I won’t be disturbing the two of you and if he wants we can all even have a coffee and bagel together in the morning, since I brought a dozen of them with me, and that’ll be the routine. Go ahead, call,” and she said “Tomorrow, soon after I get Brons to school, I don’t want you around here. I want you out, completely, so I can create a little space for whatever choices I might want to make for myself later on,” and he said “Listen, you’re making it very tough for me, and Brons. He asked me to come. You agreed to it. I’m supposed to be here a week. If I can do it I’ll change my reservation to five days, even four. But you knew I couldn’t afford a hotel and it cost me some to fly out here,” and she said “You’re being paid for not working this week, aren’t you? so that wouldn’t have happened without us,” and he said “I took a week’s vacation, which means I’ll only get one week this summer instead of two. And I put in more than ten unpaid extra hours last week at work just so I could get away. And the flight — the money for it — that’s where this week’s salary went, for I don’t make much, I’ve told you; it’s a crappy job. But if you insist on acting the bitch, then I don’t know what. I’ll stay with someone a few days, I don’t know who, but that’ll mean I won’t see Brons as much as he expects me to,” and she said “You keep writing and calling him as if he’s your real son. ‘Oh damn,’ the kid would say,’ a second week’s gone by and he didn’t contact me.’ Three weeks and it’d be like you disowned him and he’d go into a funk. So then he naturally asked you to cut the whole pineapple and be his dad here for a week. Stop tantalizing him, encouraging him and he won’t ask you to come out anymore; that is, after he goes through a month’s depression getting over you,” and he said “Okay, that’s next week, but what do we do about this one? But I’m tired, want to sleep — the east-west, west-east. I don’t want to argue; no bad feelings or for Brons to hear us. What do you say we talk about it some more tomorrow?” and she said “You’ve become so reasonable. When you were last here it would have been all shouts, insults, lots of go-fuck-yourselfs to me, plus under your breath ‘you scrawny cunt,’ but no discussion. It must be your new girlfriend’s influence. Go to bed; and go fuck yourself, you son of a bitch,” and picked up her book and resumed reading and he didn’t say anything and went to his room. A half hour later he was awakened by something scratching on his door. Scratching stopped and he lay his head back on the pillow and a few seconds later it started again. Went on like that: started, stopped, started, stopped, till he was sitting up in bed. Do they have a cat? Didn’t see one today and neither of them spoke of one but he thinks Brons mentioned a cat in one of his letters or on the phone. This might even be the room it most likes to sleep in; a kitty litter box could be somewhere around, under the bed, though there’s no smell of one, and wouldn’t one of them have told him that the cat might come in for it? It could even be Brons scratching, pretending he’s a cat, but so excited he’s here, wants to sleep in the same room with him and even has his sleeping bag with him. He said from the bed “Yes? Anyone there?” “Excuse me,” she said, “I hope I didn’t wake you, but I was wrong before and want to apologize, may I come in?” and he said “Sure, it’s your house,” and she opened the door and said “Say no if you don’t want me in here; it’s all right, guests get special privileges, which is just one of the things I want to apologize for,” and he opened the covers, since he knew it’d really get bad between them if he didn’t screw her and then maybe indicated it was what he’d wanted since he got here, and said “You probably can’t see it, but I’ve turned back the covers for you on the left side of the bed — my left — so if you want to join me, come on, it’s late,” and she got in bed, hugged him and said “I’m not so bad and you’re kinda keen,” and pulled off her nightgown and they started to make love. A minute later she took her lips off his and said “Don’t you have anything to say?” and he said “About what?” and she said “That you really don’t want me here and are only cooperating because you think I’ll be a shrew to you the next few days and you have no other place to stay,” and he said “You got this from my kissing? Not at all. We’re doing it, I’m enjoying it, so let’s continue till we’ve finished it. And though you usually felt that talking during it, or muttering or howling some sexy or bawdy words—‘sexy, bawdy, lips, toes, fingers, ears’—heightened it, I never did,” and she said “Okay, we’ll be silent for now.” “Still side-by-side on our backs?” when they got to that point and she asked “The bed’s too narrow for it?” and he said “That too; but the truth is it’s never been my preferred position for the ultimate thing. So I’m asking if you still insist on it?” and she said “That part of my body hasn’t changed since you left. And you used to get off on it, so what are you looking for, rockets, red glares? Maybe it is the bed. Why don’t you sleep in mine with me while you’re here,” and he said “How would Brons take it? He thinks I only came out for him, and she said “He can still think that. But he’s hip to all the shit older people do and lay on each other and their demanding needs and is also able to separate what you mean to him and what you and I do together as an adult team. He hasn’t the hangups you eastern idiots do at his age and I’ve done everything I can to help him avoid them. Believe me, if he happened to barge into my room tomorrow and saw us screwing away he’d say something like “I knew you two would end up doing that,” but know that if it makes me happy then it’s gotta be okay and can only benefit him with my bettered temperament. You forget what he was like.”