'You were bigger too,' Ralph told Tulpen. She looked at Bogus and saw that he might feel shitty about having no memory of his second's wife's pregnancy with his second son. She went over and goosed him quietly.
Then all the men gathered around Matje and felt her tummy, under the pretence of assessing the child's sex. 'I hate to tell you this, Ralph,' Bogus said. 'But I think Matje's going to have a grape.'
The women arranged baby Anna and baby Merrill in a side-by-side display on the dining-room sideboard. Anna was older, but both of them were still in the phase where all that's required is to sleep them, slurp them and wash their bottoms.
Sightseeing in such foul weather was limited to the two nursing mothers' breasts and Matje's swelling grape, so there was much bad pool and good drinking. Ralph was the first one to feel the effect. 'I must tell you,' he said solemnly to Couth and Bogus, 'I like all our ladies.'
Outside in the rolling fog and sleet flakes, The Great Dog Gob and the uncategorizable Loom wrestled in the slush.
Only Colm was in a rotten mood. For one thing, he was simply not used to so many guests; for another, the babies were placid, boring, unplayful creatures and the dogs in their excited condition seemed dangerous. Also, usually when Colm saw his father, Bogus gave him undivided attention. Now there were just a lot of silly adults talking. It was foul out, but it was better out than in, so to demonstrate his boredom, Colm would track lots of slush into the house and schemingly allow the wild dogs in, almost urging them to break rare Pillsbury vases.
The grownups were finally sensitive to Colm's problem and took turns taking walks with him in the terrible outdoors. Colm would bring back one sodden grownup after another. 'Now who wants to come with me?' he'd ask.
Finally it was time to do something in the way of preparing a minor warm-up feast for the evening - not to compare, of course, with tomorrow's major event.
Tulpen had brought some meat from New York.
'Ah, New York meat!' said Ralph, pinching Tulpen. Matje gouged Ralph with a corkscrew.
After dinner, it was almost peaceful; the babies were in bed and the men were stuffed and woozy. But Colm was overtired, and irritable about having to go upstairs. Biggie tried to coax him, but he refused to budge from the table. Then Bogus offered to carry him upstairs, since he was so tired.
'I'm not tired,' Colm said disagreeably.
'How about some Moby Dick?' Bogus asked him. 'Come on.'
'I want Couth to put me to bed,' Colm said.
It was obvious that he was simply in a mood, so Couth lifted him up and started off upstairs with him. 'I'll put you to bed if you want,' he told Colm, 'but I don't know Moby Dick and I can't tell stories the way Bogus can ...' But Colm was already asleep.
Sitting at the table between Biggie and Tulpen, Bogus felt Biggie put her hand under the table and lay it on his knee; almost simultaneously Tulpen touched the other knee. They were both thinking he might feel hurt, so he said reassuringly, 'Colm's just in a snit. It hasn't been such a hot day for him.'
Across the strewn dinner table, Ralph sat with his hand on Matje's grape. 'You know, Thump-Thump,' he said. 'We could do the movie right here in Maine. After all, this is sort of a castle ...'
He was talking about his next film project: Akthelt and Gunnel. The movie was pretty well planned. They were going to Europe when Trumper finished the script; a production company in Munich was committed to backing it. They were going to take their wives and babies too, though Trumper had urged Ralph to consider leaving Loom behind. They had even thought of trying to include Couth in it as the cameraman. But Couth wasn't interested. 'I'm a still photographer,' he'd pointed out. 'And I live in Maine.'
In a passing, ungenerous moment, Trumper thought that the real reason Couth wasn't interested in the movie was because of Biggie. Bogus felt vaguely that Biggie still disapproved of him, but when he'd mentioned this once to Tulpen, he'd been confused by her response. 'Frankly,' Tulpen told him, 'I'm glad Couth and Biggie won't be coming.'
'You don't like Biggie?' Bogus asked.
'It's not that,' Tulpen said. 'Sure, I like Biggie.'
Now this old confusion passed again over Bogus like a drunk's flush.
It was time to sleep. People groggily faced the unfamiliar upstairs of the great Pillsbury mansion, losing themselves in halls and stumbling into the wrong bedrooms.
'Where do I sleep?' Ralph kept asking. 'Ah God, take me there ...'
'To think that it's only the day before Throgsgafen,' Couth said plaintively.
Biggie was having a quiet pee in her bathroom when Bogus walked in on her. As usual, he left the door open.
'What in hell are you doing, Bogus?' she asked him, trying to cover herself.
'I think I'll just brush my teeth, Big,' Bogus said. He didn't seem to realize he wasn't married to her any more.
Couth peered in the open doorway, mildly surprised.
'What's he doing?' he asked his wife.