Milk Fed - Melissa Broder Page 0,68

Don’t be self-conscious.”

I followed behind her as she went into the kitchen to get some wineglasses.

“Grab me a napkin off the counter,” she said.

I handed her a big stack. But instead of taking the whole pile, she only took one. When I opened my hand, the napkins fluttered to the floor.

“Oy,” she said, laughing.

“I’ll pick them up,” I said, touching her on the arm.

When I turned around to grab the ones that landed behind me, Mrs. Schwebel was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, watching us. Her eyes were narrowed. I wondered if it was something about this particular pair of pants that had bothered her. Maybe it was the full suit.

I told myself to stop obsessing about what was wrong with Mrs. Schwebel and focus on Adiv. When he saw me in the kitchen, he waved as though I were an old friend, which I guess I kind of was. But seeing him made me feel sad. He looked different—no longer pale and lanky, but tan and buffed up. He had lost his boyishness, his awkwardness. Now he had a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

“Try Rachel’s wine,” Miriam said to him at dinner.

“I don’t like white,” said Adiv.

“Since when?”

He didn’t respond.

“Try this other one, then—cabernet,” she said, bossing him around as usual.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You’re not going to get drunk with me? Boring!”

She picked up a glass and began to pour. But just as she reached the halfway mark, he jutted his hand out against the bottle to stop it, and the red wine spilled onto her denim skirt.

“Adiv!” said Miriam.

Noah and Eitan laughed.

“Go get me some seltzer!” she said.

But Adiv just sat there and stared ahead calmly.

“I told you I was fine,” he said.

CHAPTER 61

That night in the Schwebels’ basement, I couldn’t sleep. The sheets were very cold, and every time I tossed and turned, I felt like my feet were touching something wet. At 2 a.m., I finally kicked off the covers and tiptoed upstairs to Miriam’s room. I knew that I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. I got into bed with her and put my arms around her big belly, pressed myself against her ass. Miriam stirred, then she put her hands on mine.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” I whispered into her ear.

She rolled over to face me.

“Shhhhh,” she said.

She got up and locked the door. Then she came back into bed and began kissing me, rubbing her body against my body. Gladly I kissed her back, crawled on top of her. On the other side of the wall was Ayala’s room, and I knew we could not make a sound. I kissed her very quietly all the way down to her pussy. She was wearing a nightgown to her ankles, and I pulled it up, exposing all of her pallor in the dark. But when I went to take the nightgown over her head, she said, “No, leave it on,” and so it remained up around her neck like a funny scarf.

I buried my face in her soft pubic hair. Wetness was running out of her, and I wondered if she had been like that at dinner. Her pussy tasted different tonight, like pure water, spring water from a mountain in Austria or Switzerland. She tasted Alpine. She tasted… Christian? I had never eaten her on Shabbat, and I tried not to laugh when I thought, A Shabbos goy is running this pussy tonight.

I put two of my fingers inside her and fucked her while I licked her clit. When she gasped, I shoved my other fingers in her mouth to quiet her down. She sucked on my hand and thrust herself in my face. Then I felt her come, contracting and surging with her usual brine. The Shabbos goy was gone. It was the seventh day.

CHAPTER 62

I sat in the avocado-green living room looking at a photo book called Israel: An Introduction. Miriam was still upstairs. Ezra crawled around at my feet. Mrs. Schwebel came in. She did not offer me any challah or tea. Instead, she looked at the sofa where I was seated, sighed, then walked out again. I wasn’t sure if the sigh was for me or for Ezra. I was worried. The look on her face seemed troubled, even disgusted. The corners of her mouth turned down. It was like she was going to sneeze, then didn’t. I wasn’t sure whether I should go try to grovel, suss her out, or just sit there. I stayed put.

I