“She didn’t. And when we left, Pam Shepard was still snuffling and teary. It was nearly eleven and we were overfed and sleepy. Susan invited me up to Smithfield to spend the night and I accepted, quite graciously, I thought, considering the aggravation she’d been giving me. ”You haven’t been slipping off to encounter groups under an assumed name, have you?“ I said. She shook her head. ”I don’t quite know why I’m so bitchy lately,“ she said. ”It’s not bitchy, exactly. It’s pushy. I fe...el from you a kind of steady pressure. An obligation to explain myself.“ ”And you don’t like a pushy broad, right?“ ”Don’t start up again, and don’t be so goddamned sensitive. You know I don’t mean the cliche. If you think I worry about role reversal and who keeps in whose place, you’ve spent a lot of time paying no attention to me.“ ”True,“ she said. ”I’m getting a little hyped about the whole subject.“ ”What whole subject?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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