The Boy Who Could Draw Tomorrow Read Online Free PDF Page B

night, when the house was quiet and she and Hal sat watching the late movie on TV, Peggy still hadn't been able to shake off her mood of unease. She wondered if she should say something, at least hint that she was worried. Perhaps Hal would think of some explanation that could  put her fears to rest. Hal was clever that way. Maybe he'd unravel the whole thing in two seconds flat. But something told her that Hal would be just as mystified as she was. And then what? Everything would be worse—because that would get him to worrying too.
    She decided she had to protect Hal from that. It would be rotten to burden him with something else when he had so much on his plate already—the mortgage, the monthly maintenance, the greater responsibilities and pressures that came along with his new job. It was a high stress affair, working in the music business, especially if you were connected to the public relations end of it. That really put Hal on the spot—if he lost his job now, they'd really be screwed. So she decided not to say anything, although she hated having secrets from Hal. In fact, wasn't this the first one?
    The movie was awful—Aldo Ray in The Naked and the Dead. Besides, Peggy had seen it a thousand times, and she didn't like war movies to begin with, even if a shot was never fired.
    She was sleepy, and what she really wanted was to go to bed. But she was afraid that as soon as her head hit the pillow, a vision of little boys sitting in precise rows would unfurl behind her eyelids. Like the boys in the picture, she too would face the pig-nosed woman who stood with her back to the blackboard as she coolly regarded the pupil who had collapsed across his desk.
    She was being silly, wasn't she? Perhaps all Sam meant to suggest was that the boy was napping when he should have been paying attention to his lessons.
    She felt Hal's hand moving up under her breast and then his other hand high on the inside of her leg. He was still for a moment, and then he stirred again. She had on one of her dad's old Navy robes, and Hal was parting it now and undoing the belt.
    "Not here," Peggy whispered, kissing her husband's ear.
    "Come on, then," he whispered back. He got to his feet and stood over her and started lifting her from the couch.
    But Peggy resisted. "Don't you want to see the rest of this?"
    Hal's voice was hoarse with desire when he answered. "I know what I want to see the rest of, and they're not showing it on TV."
    She knew it was no time to try to talk. But she wanted to turn him off. There was too much to think about, and she was afraid to make love and then fall asleep and dream. Besides, there was a hard carnal edge to Hal's lovemaking lately that she just didn't find all that much of a turn-on. So, instead of letting him lift her, she pushed at his chest. "You could always go to that X-rated motel out by the airport. Didn't you notice it on the way in? Closed-circuit movies in every room?"
    Even in the weak light, she could see the angry look that came over his face. It wasn't like Peggy to put him off. It wasn't like her to do it, let alone want to.
    "I must be selling the wrong line of goods," he said, backing away slightly and standing back up to his full height.
    "I'm sorry," Peggy said. "It's just—I don't know. Losing my bag and everything. I can't seem to settle down."
    "That's okay, Pegs," he said, trying to mean it. He bent down, kissed her a quick peck on the forehead, and went off to the guest room, like Sam, making contact with the wall as he worked his way along the hall past the room where Val and Sam were sharing the bed.
    ***
    Things were strained between Peggy and Hal the rest of the week. But the time went quickly. Val and Sam went fishing together almost every day. Peggy and Hal hung around the house. They sunbathed, took long naps, now and then talking together in a new and guarded way. Mainly they went over their new budget and mapped out the belt-tightening that would have to set in as soon as