THE SATURDAY WITH GLORIA AND JASON IS MORE OR less a repetition of the Friday afternoon. Jason ventures out to the beach twice while Gloria and I f**k. I make two different salads and a puréed sweet potato soup for lunch; in the evening we drink and eat the leftovers. On Sunday, I wake up next to Gloria and my bed seems too small; I want her out of the bed. I feel like shouting at her to go, but I would never do that, shout at a woman.
I shake her and kiss her on the neck to wake her up.
The breakfast is eggs Benedict and silence. A table full of newspapers.
“I’m going to miss you, babe,” Gloria says before they leave.
“I’m going to miss you, too,” Jason says in a high-pitched voice.
“I’m going to miss you,” I say back to him in my normal voice.
***
I’m impatient to go out and find
