English Audio Request

“Getting pregnant.”
“I thought we were going to wait a few years.”
“We are. But I think we should practice diligently until then.”
“We’ve practiced in every roadside motel between here and Boston.”
“I know, but not in our new home.” Mitch ripped two ribs apart, slinging sauce into his eyebrows.
“We just moved in this morning.”
“I know. What’re we waiting for?”
“Mitch, you act as though you’ve been neglected.”
“I have, since this morning. I suggest we do it tonight, as soon as we get home, to sort of christen our new house.”
“We’ll see.”
“Is it a date? Look, did you see that guy over there? He’s about to break his neck trying to see some leg. I oughta go over and whip his ass.”
“Yes. It’s a date. Don’t worry about those guys. They’re staring at you. They think you’re cute.”
“Very funny.”
Mitch stripped his ribs clean and ate half of hers. When the beer was gone, he paid the check and they climbed into the alley. He drove carefully across town and found the name of a street he recognized from one of his many road trips of the day. After two
wrong turns, he found Meadow-brook, and then the home of Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell Y. McDeere.
The mattress and box springs were stacked on the floor of the master bedroom, surrounded by boxes. Hearsay hid under a lamp on the floor and watched as they practiced.