The Qualities of Wood Read Free Page A

you haven’t seen the town yet. It has modern conveniences.’
    â€˜Do they have a movie theater?’
    â€˜I think they do,’ he said.
    â€˜It’s probably a drive-in.’ She rose and took her plate to the sink.
    Nowell came up behind her. ‘A drive-in might be fun.’ He kissed her just behind the ear, dropped his hands to her waist. His breath was warm. ‘We could take our new truck and break it in.’
    â€˜ Your new truck,’ she said. ‘I don’t think my feet will reach the pedals. I’ll have to get those stilts that handicapped people use.’
    He slid his hands upward from her stomach and she stepped back, forcing him to move away.
    â€˜Let me rinse these dishes,’ she said, ‘so there won’t be ants or mice or whatever lives out here. I’ll be there in a minute.’
    â€˜Deal.’ He grabbed his beer from the table and leaned his head back, swallowing the last of it.
    â€˜Will you start unpacking my suitcase?’ she asked.
    He tossed the empty can into the trash and walked down the hallway.
    Vivian hid a smile, imagining his reaction. She had purchased new lingerie, an emerald satin chemise and shorts, and packed it at the top of her bag for him to find. She hurried to clear the table.
    Her attraction to Nowell was reliably strong, especially after a month’s absence. There was something so comforting about the feel of his arms, something still so exciting about their legs entwined, her long hair spilling around them. She lost herself during their intimacies.
    Afterwards, they turned down the quilt and lay on the bed backwards, looking out at the moon. The carved headboard blocked part of the window, which was wide and low like the one in Nowell’s study. The moon, almost a full circle, sat in perfect view over thetrees. There were so many more stars in the country, Vivian thought. The night was lit up by them.
    The bedroom had been his grandmother’s. It was small and exactly square, just wide enough for the bed and two wooden nightstands. Each table held a lamp shaped like a lighthouse, white with black details, the light beaming from the top. On the far wall hung an oil painting, a picture of a house and the surrounding field but the colors were strange: orange grass, green sky, a pink, tilted roof.
    Nowell lay still, the sheet draped over his mid-section like a loincloth.
    â€˜You’re quiet,’ Vivian said.
    He brought his arm around to rest heavily on her stomach. ‘I guess you haven’t changed your mind about things.’
    â€˜Why do you say that?’
    â€˜Because of what you said just now, at the end. And you’re drinking beer.’
    Vivian tensed. ‘It’s not even the right timing. Besides, you promised you wouldn’t bring this up for a while.’ She swung her legs around and sat on the edge of the bed, then leaned over and picked up the green chemise.
    â€˜I know. Sorry. Come on, don’t be mad.’
    â€˜You’re always thinking about having a baby,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it enough for now that I’m here?’
    â€˜I just don’t see why, I mean, I thought we agreed to talk about it.’
    â€˜I’m not having this conversation again.’ She found her shorts underneath the pillow at her feet and pulled them on. ‘I’ve had a long day traveling. I want to wash myface, and I might drink that last beer before I brush my teeth.’ She added this last part to annoy him.
    It worked. ‘I have a lot on my mind too,’ Nowell said. ‘Just forget it.’ He turned his back to her and pulled up the sheet. He left the blanket bunched at his feet. A ceiling fan whirred overhead, stirring the warm air into feathery layers of discontent.
    Vivian walked down the hall and looked into the other rooms, flipping lights on and off. There were two bedrooms across the hall. In one, a small white dresser sat opposite a double bed.