What We Talk About When We Talk About Love: Stories

held on to the baby and pushed with all his weight.
    Let go of him, he said.
    Don't, she said. You're hurting the baby, she said.
    I'm not hurting the baby, he said.
    The kitchen window gave no light. In the near-dark he worked on her fisted fingers with one hand and with the other hand he gripped the screaming baby up under an arm near the shoulder.
    She felt her fingers being forced open. She felt the baby going from her.
    No! she screamed just as her hands came loose.
    She would have it, this baby. She grabbed for the baby's other arm. She caught the baby around the wrist and leaned back.
    But he would not let go. He felt the baby slipping out of his hands and he pulled back very hard.
    In this manner, the issue was decided.
    Everything Stuck to Him
    SHE'S in Milan for Christmas and wants to know what it was like when she was a kid.
    Tell me, she says. Tell me what it was like when I was a kid. She sips Strega, waits, eyes him closely.
    She is a cool, slim, attractive girl, a survivor from top to bottom.
    That was a long time ago. That was twenty years ago, he says.
    You can remember, she says. Go on.
    What do you want to hear? he says. What else can I tell you? I could tell you about something that happened when you were a baby. It involves you, he says. But only in a minor way.
    What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
    Tell me, she says. But first fix us another so you won't have to stop in the middle.
    He comes back from the kitchen with drinks, settles into his chair, begins.
    THEY were kids themselves, but they were crazy in love, this eighteen-year-old boy and this seventeen-year-old girl when they married. Not all that long afterwards they had a daughter.
    The baby came along in late November during a cold spell that just happened to coincide with the peak of the waterfowl season. The boy loved to hunt, you see. That's part of it.
    The boy and girl, husband and wife, father and mother, they lived in a little apartment under a dentist's office. Each night they cleaned the dentist's place upstairs in exchange for rent and utilities. In summer they were expected to maintain the lawn and the flowers. In winter the boy shoveled snow and spread rock salt on the walks. Are you still with me? Are you getting the picture?
    I am, she says.
    That's good, he says. So one day the dentist finds out they were using his letterhead for their personal correspondence. But that's another story.
    He gets up from his chair and looks out the window. He sees the tile rooftops and the snow that is falling steadily on them.
    Tell the story, she says.
    The two kids were very much in love. On top of this they had great ambitions. They were always talking about
    Everything Stuck to Him
    the things they were going to do and the places they were going to go.
    Now the boy and girl slept in the bedroom, and the baby slept in the living room. Let's say the baby was about three months old and had only just begun to sleep through the night.
    On this one Saturday night after finishing his work upstairs, the boy stayed in the dentist's office and called an old hunting friend of his father's.
    Carl, he said when the man picked up the receiver, believe it or not, I'm a father.
    Congratulations, Carl said. How is the wife?
    She's fine, Carl. Everybody's fine.
    That's good, Carl said, I'm glad to hear it. But if you called about going hunting, I'll tell you something. The geese are flying to beat the band. I don't think I've ever seen so many. Got five today. Going back in the morning, so come along if you want to.
    I want to, the boy said.
    The boy hung up the telephone and went downstairs to tell the girl. She watched while he laid out his things. Hunting coat, shell bag, boots, socks, hunting cap, long underwear, pump gun.
    What time will you be back? the girl said.
    Probably around noon, the boy said. But maybe as late as six o'clock. Would that be too late?
    It's fine, she said. The baby and I will get along fine. You go and have some fun. When you get back, we'll dress the baby up and go visit Sally.
    The boy said, Sounds like a good idea.
    What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
    Sally was the girPs sister. She was striking. I don't know if youVe seen pictures of her. The boy was a little in love with Sally, just as he was a little in love with Betsy, who was another sister the girl had. The boy used to say to the girl, If we weren't married, I could go for Sally.
    What about Betsy? the girl used to say. I hate to admit it, but I truly