The Shape of Desire Read Online Free

skew more toward romantic comedy—and Technicolor—but I’ll watch anything with him. I was one of the first people in my area to get cable, just for TCM.
    “Not tonight, I think. Not yet,” he says.
    He’s often a little skittish on his first days back, uncomfortable around people and clumsy in public. I’ve watched him at restaurants as he studies the table, as if reminding himself what silverware is for. He can’t stand to use a straw. And he can’t tolerate small, crowded spaces, like movie theatres on an opening weekend or sports bars when the home team is playing. When we do take in a movie, it’s usually a matinee the day before the playbill changes or a French film showing at an art house.
    “I’ve recorded a bunch of stuff on the DVR,” I say. “Let’s see if there’s anything on the menu that sounds good to you.”
    An hour later, we curl up together on the couch, eating pizza in the flickering dark. We’ve reached a deal: We’ll watch an hour of
The Sopranos
—which he loves and I hate—followed by an hour of classic old comedies like
The Mary Tyler Moore Show
—which he also likes, but not nearly as much as I do. And then we’ll alternate again. Once the pizza is eaten and I’ve done up the dishes, we stretch out on the couch, entwiningmore completely. My back is to his chest, his arms are around me, and an old afghan knitted by my grandmother covers both of us. I watch James Gandolfini order some hapless cohort to get whacked, shutting my eyes before the scene can play out. My fingers close over Dante’s and he kisses the back of my head.
    I cannot remember ever being so happy.

CHAPTER TWO

    T here are two more days in the workweek and I force myself to go to the office both days, even though I am missing time with Dante. He sleeps most of Thursday, but by Friday morning he’s restless and energetic, and I know he won’t be confined to the house for long. I can hardly stand the thought that he will be roaming the streets, visiting parks, browsing through stores,
existing
, while I’m in some other part of the city. But I also can’t stand the thought of having absolutely no time off for the rest of the year, and I just have two days left. And it’s only September.
    “I’ll see if I can work through lunch and come home early,” I tell him, as he gives me a lingering kiss good-bye. “Think about what you might want to do this weekend. We could drive out to the wineries. Or go hiking. The weather’s supposed to be beautiful.”
    “We need to go see Christina,” he says.
    I stop with my hand on the door, turning to stare at him in surprise. Christina is his sister, and I can’t remember the last time we visited her,though I think he gets in touch with her every time he’s in human form. She lives outside of Rolla, about ninety minutes southwest of my house in Eureka. As far as I can determine, his brother has
no
permanent residence.
    “She sent an e-mail,” he adds. “She wants to see us. And William.”
    The advent of e-mail has made it exponentially easier for Dante to run his life, and he set up a Hotmail account ages ago. Now and then, while he’s gone off in some animal shape, and I’m worried sick about him every single minute, he has a chance to shift into human form, find a library or an Internet café, and send me a quick note to let me know he’s all right and thinking of me. I
live
for those messages, random and far too rare.
    “Is something wrong?” I ask. “Is she sick?”
    He shrugs. “I don’t know. There was just a message in my in-box saying she wanted to see me when I was around. I e-mailed this morning to say I was here. She suggested we come over Sunday.”
    “And William will be there, too?”
    Again, he hunches his shoulders. “You never know about William.”
    “Okay,” I reply. What else is there to say? “Well, let me know if there’s anything you want to do on
Saturday
. Love you. See you later.”
    T here’s an accident on Highway 109