"I told you already, I can't. I'm trying to finish this paper so I can start studying for my mid-terms."
"But we haven't had any fun for three days in a row now."
He knew that she was using "fun" as a euphemism.
But I'm too distracted. I can't put school out of my mind. Sex now would just be perfunctory. She'd be bound to be disappointed.
The last two weeks had been the best of his life. It had been like living inside a pornographic movie. He couldn't bear the thought of not performing up to the standards they'd set for each other.
"I promise. No later than Sunday. Probably Saturday."
"But I'm bored."
He felt his temper fraying. Gen had been especially wearisome since yesterday.
I'll try one last time.
"Until I graduate, there are going to be three times every semester that I'll be too busy for our normal routine. The week preceding mid-terms, the one before finals, and the week of the exams. It can't be helped. It's like the sun rising in the east and Christmas falling on the 25th of December. Facts. Immutable and inevitable. Are you willing to accept this?"
He could tell from the blank look in her eyes that she hated to hear him being analytical about things having to do with their relationship.
"You don't understand how I feel."
That brought him to his feet. He abandoned his books and sat next to her on the bed. Putting his arms around her shoulders, he hugged her tightly and kissed her lips.
"Of course I do. I feel the same," he whispered into her ear. "Please, think of something you'd like to do next Saturday night and Sunday. If we can afford to do it, we will, no matter what."
She put her face into his chest and muttered. "I don't care about money and doing things that need it. I just want you to myself for a part of the day. The best part of the day." She ran her hand up his chest and around the back his head. She pulled him toward her for a passionate kiss. When she broke the kiss, she said, "I've never loved a man before. I don't understand how you don't feel the same way."
"But I do."
Christ. How can I make her comprehend?
"I'm here to accomplish something. It's 1980 and I'm already twenty-two. It's taking me longer than others because I have to work full time. If I succeed, if I graduate with honors, it'll be a big step. You know I have to do well in order to get accepted into law school. And after, there'll be times of intensive effort, just like now. And, if I get to be a lawyer, it'll be the same way, only it won't go according to a plan. It'll be more chaotic. That's the way life is."
"So, you mean this is as good as it's gonna get?"
Nothing he'd said had gotten through to her. He couldn't stop himself from being terse. "Would you rather I punched a time clock for a minimum wage job for the rest of my life? You wanna try to live decently on that? What could we afford? Never a new car, always something just this side of the junkyard. Never a house. Maybe a repossessed trailer in a fucking trailer park because we couldn't afford any land."
His voice rose as he spoke. "This is how professional people live. They have to dedicate themselves to their career. It's the same for people in business. It's just how life is. If you want to accomplish things, you have to put in the time."
She pulled away from him, got under the covers and turned toward the wall. When she remained silent for several moments, he got up and returned to the kitchen table and his books.
"I'll come home for dinner at the regular time, but until the end of next week, I'm going to return to the library until it closes."
Because I obviously can't get anything done here.
She didn't respond.
He said, "Tomorrow's Friday. I won't need my car. Why don't you take it and go visit your friends? Or invite them over? I don't mind. I know it's hard on you being alone without me so much."
"I don't have any money," she answered in a quiet voice.
"Take twenty dollars out of the emergency fund in the desk drawer. You don't need to worry about gas. I filled up on the way home tonight."
"Okay. Thanks."
Maybe that'll satisfy her for tonight.
*****
The next morning, as usual, Gen woke up alone. Tom was an early riser and a bowl of cereal satisfied him for breakfast. He had begun grinding his coffee beans the night before so as not to disturb her in the morning. Until yesterday, his concern for not disturbing her had struck her as endearing. This morning she found herself wishing that he'd awakened her.
At least we would've had a few minutes together.
She felt morose and ungrateful. Not only was she living with a man that she loved, he didn't expect her to contribute financially. He hadn't told to quit her job but he did say, "If you hate that job as much as you say you do, I won't fuss if you quit it." Yet here she sat, wallowing in self-pity because the kind, generous and handsome man that she loved hadn't paid attention to her for most of the week and, after a promised brief interlude this weekend, would repeat the performance the following week.
