“It happened on the pier. It didn’t last long.”
“They carry him away?”
“No,” he said. “They carried me.”
She gave him a side glance. “How come? Lose your punch?”
He didn’t say anything. He sipped at the coffee and took long drags at the cigarette and tried not to look at her. But he was focusing on her face, and seeing a parade of questions coming out of her eyes. He compared her present mood with the explosive anger of minutes ago, and realized that she’d calmed down considerably, almost to the point of passivity. He’d never seen her like this, and it made him uneasy. His throat felt tight and he worked his head from side to side, trying to loosen his collar.
“Unbutton it,” she said.
“It’s all right.”
“Don’t you feel hot? Why don’t you take your jacket off?”
“I want it on.” He spoke just a little louder. “You don’t mind, do you?”
He was hoping she’d curse him, or say anything that would get the shouting started, their normal means of communication.