“What he’s making that scrapbook for. It’s to show to his children! And now he wants one. He wants one right away.”
“Well, why didn’t you come with me?”
“Come with you for what? To sleep in box cars? Why would I come with you? Tell me that.”
I couldn’t say anything. I thought about my $250, but what good was it telling her that I had some money yesterday, but today I lost it playing one ball in the side?
“You’re no good. I know that. You’re just no good. Then why don’t you go away and let me alone instead of coming back here again? Why don’t you leave me be?”
“Listen. Stall him on this kid stuff just a little while. Stall him, and we’ll see if we can’t figure something out. I’m not much good, but I love you, Cora. I swear it.”
“You swear it, and what do you do? He’s taking me to Santa Barbara, so I’ll say I’ll have the child, and you — you’re going right along with us. You’re going to stay at the same hotel with us! You’re going right along in the car. You’re—”
She stopped, and we stood there looking at each other. The three of us in the car, we knew what that meant. Little by little we were nearer, until we were touching.
“Oh, my God, Frank, isn’t there any other way out for us than that?”
“Well. You were going to stick a knife in him just now.”