Leftovers: A Novel by Arthur Wooten Read Free Book Online Page A

bathroom. She had dozed off and now half-conscious, she wondered if what she had experienced really happened or if it was just another dream. She heard him in the bathroom and closed her eyes. Although exhausted, the thought of him making love to her again made her feel exhilarated.
    Paul came out of the bathroom completely dressed and sat next to her on the bed.
    “Vivian?”
    She kept her eyes closed and smiled coyly as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
    He paused. “Vivian, I’m leaving you.”
    Her eyes instantly opened wide. Paul attempted to move but Vivian’s grasp tightened around him.
    “Vivian.”
    He tried to stand up.
    “Let go.”
    Paul tried prying her arms away but she clenched harder.
    “Vivian!”
    He escaped from her grip and walked over to a packed suitcase sitting by the bedroom door. Totally thrown, she sat upright trying to collect her thoughts. Without looking at her he left the room.
    She jumped to her feet, grabbed her bathrobe and ran out after him.
    Paul had reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped, keeping his back to her. “Vivian, your hair’s a mess, you’re a terrible cook and you’re barren.” He turned and walked away as she flew down the stairs. He passed through the dining room to get to the front door as she appeared.
    “Any husband in his right mind would leave you. You’re like, you’re like cold . . . ” and without even giving her the decency of looking her straight in the eye, he just casually gestured to the dining room table, “ . . . leftovers.”
    Then, something absolutely extraordinary happened. Vivian spoke back.
    “You bastard,” she whispered viciously.
    Paul came to a complete stop. “What was that?” he asked incredulously. And before he could turn around to look at her, she was on top of his back.
    “You goddamn bastard!” she screamed at the top of her lungs as she locked her forearms around his throat and her legs around his waist forcing him to drop the suitcase. She squeezed as hard as she could, marveling at her own strength. Never did she think she could feel so much rage.
    Neither did Paul. Unable to breathe, let alone speak, he stumbled into the living room squirming to get her off of his back. But she was up for the fight. The adrenaline pumping through Vivian’s body signaled to her that she could hang on all night if she had to.
    “Who?” she demanded.
    Squeezing his throat even tighter, Paul choked. “Ugh . . . awww . . . eeeeh . . . ”
    “Tell me!”
    He managed to get out, “Who . . . what?”
    “Who the hell is the other woman?” Vivian couldn’t believe the power she felt. It was both thrilling and frightening at the same moment. If need be, she thought she could crush him. “Who is she?” she screamed louder than she ever had in her life.
    “El . . . ”
    Paul whipped around thinking he could fling her off but Vivian wasn’t budging.
    “What’s her name?” she shrieked, almost demonically.
    For a split second she eased up on his thorax and he spit it out. “Eleanor Gates.”
    Vivian let go of her grip and slid down his entire body till she hit the floor.
    “Eleanor Gates?” she whispered.
    Paul rubbed his throat and coughed. “You know her?”
    Vivian started laughing hysterically. “You idiot. She’s already got some fool wrapped around her little finger buying her mink stoles.”
    “I bought her that.”
    Very slowly, Vivian got up to her feet as Paul cautiously watched her.
    “Were you just with her?” she asked, in a frighteningly calm voice.
    He looked down at the floor. She took a step towards him and he hung his head lower. And then it happened. With 25 years worth of unexpressed wrath surfacing from her belly, Vivian made a fist, pulled her arm back and with all her might she threw an uppercut punch that slammed up into his chin. Having caught Paul’s tongue between his teeth, blood squirted everywhere.
    He felt his mouth. “You cut my tongue!” he muttered