What? No. I just got here, she said.
I want you to forget everything you think you know about flying airplanes, Pancho said, not that you know that much, and raise your glasses, your bottles, your asses—I don’t care what—to that ol demon. May he piss his pants when he sees you coming.
There was a cacophony of clattering glass.
Let’s just hope, Pancho continued, that going supersonic don’t turn them funny in the head, or—she winked at Harrison across the room—the balls.
What the hell was that? Grace said, turning to her husband.
Honey—
I saw that; that wink she gave you. What the hell, Jim?
She stared at him, eyes slick with tears.
Gracie—
She pushed the door open and left.
Christ, he said, and followed.
It was cold outside. The veranda was empty.
Goddamn it, Harrison called after her. Wait up.
Grace spun around.
I’m so mad I’m spittin nails right now, she said.
She doesn’t know, sweetheart, she doesn’t know.
That’s our business, Jim, our marriage. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
I know.
Having kids, that’s private; you and me—it’s none of her goddamn business.
Let me speak to her.
No. I don’t need you to speak to her, I’m plenty able to do that myself.
Where you going?
Where do you think I’m going?
Grace!
He ran after her. The back door to the kitchen was open. She ducked inside.
Grace, honey, stop, please.
In the kitchen, Minnie was turning six fat steaks on the grill. They smoked and crackled. She looked around.
Shit, sorry, Minnie, Harrison said.
Where’s Pancho? Grace said.
Hello, Mrs. Harrison, Minnie said. What you all doin back here?
Sorry, Minnie, hi, is this the door to—
The door opened.
What the hell are you both doin back here? Pancho said. Party’s out front.
It’s none of your goddamn business! Grace said.
What ain’t? Pancho said.
Jim and me; having kids.
Hon—Harrison said.
We can’t.
Can’t what?
Have kids, Grace said. We can’t have children.
Pancho stared at her.
We’re seeing the doc on Monday, Harrison said. Gettin some results. We don’t know that for sure.
Well we sure as hell don’t have any now, Grace said, and it sure don’t look likely to change anytime soon.
Gracie, Pancho said, throwing her large arms around her slim frame. I had no idea. I’m so sorry. She held Grace tight, whispering something in her ear that Harrison couldn’t hear. Grace was nodding her head. They parted.
Don’t think I’ve ever seen you embrace anyone before, Pancho, Harrison said.
Shut your mouth, Pancho said.
Grace wiped her eyes with the undersides of her thumbs.
Right? Pancho said to her.
She nodded.
What? Harrison said.
None of your business, Pancho said. Between women. You’ll tell me how you get on on Monday?
Grace nodded.
Here, Pancho said. Go home, take this.
She handed Grace a bottle of red wine.
You keep wine back here? Harrison said.
Keep that to yourself or I’ll break your damn legs, Pancho said.
All right, all right, he said. I’ll see you.
Yes you will.
Night, Minnie, Grace said.
Good night, Mrs. Harrison, Captain Harrison.
Good night Minnie, he said.
Get out of here, Pancho said.
Harrison slipped his hand into his wife’s and they left.
She lay in bed, on her side, away from him; arm hooked beneath her pillow. The yellow light from the lamp felt warm. He pushed his face into the nape of her neck, hand resting on her belly.
Hey, he said.
She didn’t reply. He kissed her back. He couldn’t see her face.
Don’t do that.
What?
Stroke my belly. I’m not a genie.
I know, he said.
She sighed. Wish I was, she said.
I know, he said.
I’m sorry, she said, and rolled over. Her eyes, narrow and full, flicked up to his.
It’s okay, he said.
I just—
I know.
It’ll be all right, he said.
She rubbed at a small scar on her forehead, like she always did.
Monday—
Monday will take care of itself, he said.
Okay, she said.
Okay, he said, then, what’s the matter?
I need to pee, she said.
He laughed. She slipped out of bed. He sat on the edge and stared into the empty room. The toilet flushed. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulled off his clothes, and got back into bed.
Not the eye mask, he said as she got back in.
It’s too damn bright in here with a full moon, she said.
You a werewolf?
Werewolves change shape with a full moon, she said, not have a hard time sleeping.
You look like a giant fly.
Come here and kiss me, she said, lying down.
No way!
C’mon.
I don’t want to kiss an insect.
She sought him out, buzzing through her teeth. He laughed. She climbed on top of him.
There you are, she said.
Get off, he said, laughing.
No.
Get off!
Never!
She stuck out her tongue and moved it toward him.
This is gettin weird, he said.
She took off the mask.
That’s better, he said.
She bent down and kissed him and he turned her gently beneath him.