Stony smiled. He disengaged his wrist from Eddie's fingers and dug into his pockets for money. "Sure"—he started walking out of the bar—"makes sense to me, right?"

***

Chubby bucked and heaved on top of his wife like a rutting sea lion. The words came from somewhere else. "You comin'? You comin'?" Like a third frantic presence in the steaming room. Chubby pumped for his life, Phyllis' legs twitching under his bulk. The bed gasped for air beneath his panic. Phyllis held on for dear life, grasping his hair like a lifeline. "Yes!" She screamed, half pleading, half tribute. Chubby slammed her bones, rattled her teeth. As if he could bring her back. Bring her back. Coming, coming, coming. He arched his back in a last thrust, ramming her into the headboard. Her legs trembled. Phyllis was so scared by the changes in her body she started laughing. But she didn't come. Chubby bucked once more.

Chubby lay on top, gasping, hurting. "Oh... Phyllis." He'd almost said Sooky as Phyllis wrapped her shaking arms around his fat neck. "Oh, baby," he cried. "Do you love me?"

"Yes!"

"Do you love me?" gripping the nape of her neck.

"Yeah! Oh you know I do!"

"Then say it!"

"Yes. I love you! I love you!"

Chubby was grateful for a clear-lunged fuck. Fifty. That was a pretty good hump for fifty. Phyllis was his wife. No more hookers. No more booze. Play it close to the vest. She was his wife. Fifty.

***

For the next few days he followed her around the house. He brought flowers home. They went for walks in the park, rides in the country. Her bedtime was his bedtime. They laughed at Johnny Carson together. He stopped hanging out at Banion's. He took her for Chinks every night. They even got back into fucking. Phyllis was scared shit.

"Marie, I'm worried about Chubby." She picked at the crusty corners of her well-done hamburger with long nails.

"Whadya mean?" Marie wriggled on the revolving stool at the crowded Woolworth's lunch counter.

"All of a sudden he's gettin' romantic with me. I think maybe he's sick or somethin'." Phyllis pushed away the thick white plate.

"You don't want that?" Marie gathered the discarded hamburger with a sweeping motion of her hand. "It's a sin to waste food. Whadya mean, romantic?" She lifted the hamburger to her mouth with both hands.

"I dunno, he follows me around the house like a big dog all the time. He didn't go inta work this week because a his back an' all he does is be nice to me, takes me out every day, brings me presents. I mean, I'm not complainin'." She quickly frowned. "Yes I am... there's somethin' wrong. He's actin' crazy."

Marie raised an eyebrow. "I wish Tommy was so crazy."

"Look, I'm not a hard person to please, Marie." A tall, thin pimply girl in a pantsuit slipped a check under Marie's plate. "You know that"—they both looked at the tab—"I just like a little attention now and then."