Evan had come home from the war at last, but she couldn’t worship him with her body, much as he tried to worship her. Snow fell. A John Wayne movie played, forgotten, across the room. Theresa caught glimpses of it as Evan licked and sucked her n****e, his big hand kneading her hip. She scrubbed her palms over his dark crew cut and shifted her hips, trying to let herself melt into him, but the rattle of bullets from the television made her back tense. Her n****e felt raw from too much attention. He’d been trying to arouse her for half the movie, and suddenly she wanted to scream. “I’m sorry,” she said. She fled to the kitchen, clutching her unbuttoned blouse to her breasts. She could still taste him on her tongue, apple pie and Evan.
“Theresa,” he said. He’d buttoned his jeans over the bul
