al

An excerpt:

It started in June, a few days after Emily's first birthday. I remember it was a Sunday night; Richard had to teach in the morning. I woke up to Richard moaning. It was a kind of humming sound, up and down the scale. It was a noise he made during sex.
I sat up in bed. As usual all the blankets were piled on my side. Richard was naked under a single sheet, despite the air conditioning. We'd fought about something that afternoon. I was still angry enough that I could find satisfaction in watching his nightmare.
He moved his hips up and down. I could see the little tent his penis made in the sheet. Clearly he was not squirming from fear. Just as I realized what was happening he arched his back and the sheet turned translucent. I'd never watched it before, not clinically like that. It wasn't especially interesting and certainly not erotic. All I could think of was the mess. I could smell it now, like water left standing in an orange juice jar.
I lay down, facing away from him. the bed jolted as he woke up. "Jesus," he whispered. I pretended to be asleep while he mopped up the bed with some Kleenex. In a minute or two he was asleep again.
I got up to check on Emily. She was face down in her crib, arms and legs stretched out like a tiny pnk bearskin rug. I touched her hair, bent over to smell her neck. One tiny, prefect hand clutched at the blanket under her.
"You missed it, Tater," I whispered. "You could have seen what you've got to look forward to."