Chapter 16: The Terms

The napkin was still on the fridge, under a magnet shaped like a trout.

I peeled it off in the kitchen light and read it aloud.

"One, thirty days. Two, separate rooms. Three, pillows stay where they were. Four, hands to himself. Five, no thank-yous."

Gus stood by the sink with his hands in his back pockets.

"You signed it," I said.

"You wrote it."

I took the pen from the junk drawer and crossed out one, then two, then three, then four, then five.

I signed the napkin with a loop.

Then I signed it again without one, so it would hold up either way.

"That's day ten," Gus said. "You've got twenty left."

"I looked for the debt for ten days. I went through the closet, the folder and the shoebox."

"And?"

"There isn't one. I'm not paying you for anything, and I'm not confused."

I put the napkin down.

"I want to go upstairs with my husband, and I want it free."

He took his hands out of his pockets.

They weren't steady.

"You're sure," he said.

"You'd better be sure. I'm going to ruin you."

He crossed the kitchen in two steps and kissed me against the refrigerator.

A trout magnet hit the floor.

We made it as far as the third stair.

His hands were under my shirt, flat on my back, and my knees went.

He held me up with one arm and turned off the porch light with the other.

"The woman across the street has a telescope," he said into my neck.

"Does she."

"She says it's for birds."

I laughed so hard I had to hold his collar.

The bedroom was his side and my side, and I had never seen it with the lights off.

There were two pillows on the bed. Mine was still dented.

I picked it up and dropped it on the floor.

"Pillows stayed where they were," Gus said.

"They're moving now."

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