Chapter 4

Well, after that night, me 'n Bill would do it regular. Most of the time, Bill would have a orgasm and would come, a little bit, in my mouth, but even when he didn't come, well, he seemed to enjoy it just about as much as ever, and he quit completely, talking about how bad it was that we were doing such a thing.

And one evening, afterward, I suggested we do it, the next time, in the bed, back in his bedroom. I suggested he take a nice nap, before I even got there, and then I'd wake him up in his bed -- that way.

Well, we did that, and sure enough, afterwards old Bill told me it had been the best of all, for him, because he'd dreamt he was doing it, for real, and he said in his dream, this time, it wasn't Sarah he was dreaming he was with. It was me.

And I told him that I had known it must 'a been good for him because, just before he'd come, he'd gotten real good and hard -- almost as big and hard as he must of been, back in his own day. And I told him he had a real nice big pecker, which was nothing but God's truth.

All during this time Bill was still coming to the cafe and leaving me good tips and all, and we were seeing each other those two nights a week. Maybe people were talking about it, I don't know. Probably somebody saw me coming and going there, to his house, and probably somebody had something to say about it.

But I never heard nothing right out, about it, and old Bill was happier than I ever remembered him being, and, Hell, I was pretty happy my own self, as far as that goes.

Things started goin' to Hell, though, with Mama, and there wasn't any way I could afford to have anybody in, full-time, to take care of her, and there wasn't any way I could just stay home with her all the time, neither.

I had to tell Bill I couldn't come over, most of our nights, because Mama was too sick for me to leave her there alone.

Well, damned if Bill didn't take me aside one day, at the cafe, and tell me he knew what we should do about my mama. He said we -- me and Mama and Timmy -- we all should just move in at his house. He said it was bigger and he was there all the time and could take care of her, and could be home when Timmy got there, after school, and it would work out just fine.

Well, taking care of somebody as sick as Mama ain't no picnic, and I explained that to Bill, and he said it wasn't nothing he hadn't done before, when his own wife had got sick, and had lingered a long while before she died.

He said he knew my Mama a little, and had always liked her. And he loved my little boy, Timmy. It would be fine, Bill said. We could go ahead and sell our house, and maybe come out a little ahead on that, and just stay with him.

Well, I knew it was an awful lot to ask of anybody, especially somebody who wasn't even kin, but, God, it was the only way I could see that we could keep on, and I said yes, and I told Bill how grateful I was, that he'd offered.

And old Bill, he just smiled and said how he was doing it for selfish reasons. He never got to see me no more, except at the cafe, he said, and sometimes, not even there. This way, I could work, and maybe he would be home caring for my mama, and wouldn't see me so much anymore at the cafe.

But he could see me every night, at home.