“Maybe,” he said. “But tonight, goddammit, that was classic. I mean, I expect you not to know it —you’re all magazines and coffee table books—”

Janis, who always had a three-deep pile of library books by her bed, said nothing.

“But those guys… No wonder everything they write turns out shit.”

Janis managed to slip out of the dress without tearing it.

“How’s your book coming on?” she asked mildly.

Todd, immune to even the strongest sarcasm, frowned. It was a frown designed to invite sympathy and, even though it never achieved its purpose, Todd retained the habit.

“Oh, Jesus, it’s hard,” he said. “Sometimes the words flow like a tidal wave, and sometimes it’s like God turned the stopcock off at the wall.”

In fact, he thought to himself as Janis carefully replaced the catalog dress on its hanger, most times it’s like that.

“I’m going to sleep in the spare room tonight,” said Janis. “Early start tomorrow.”

Todd nodded absently, unaware that Janis was trying to spare herself a night of him snoring, shouting in his sleep and whacking her in the face with a flailing arm. In fact, he was barely aware that Janis had left the bathroom.

Not for the first time, Todd Milstead was thinking about a book.

*  *  *

Janis woke up. A thumping noise was coming from downstairs. A repetitive, low thumping noise, like someone banging shot glasses onto a wooden table or—and for a moment an almost hopeful vision filled her mind—like someone repeatedly shoving her husband’s face against a door. She got up, found a long and heavy flashlight under the bed, and, putting on a dressing-gown, went downstairs.

The door to Todd’s study was open (he called it a study, but as all he ever did was read Penthouse in it, Janis thought of it as his jerk-off room) and the light was on. Janis approached it, trying not to be scared. As she did so, she could hear swearing.

“Motherfucker!”

It was Todd. She relaxed from the relief, but now she found that she was angry. He knew she was up early the next day. And here he was, up in the middle of the night, making an awful racket. Janis was very tired and suddenly it all seemed too much.