They ate the strudel and drank the rest of the wine.
George leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes.
“Wine always makes me feel this way,” he said.
“Feel bad?” Nick asked.
“No. I feel good, but funny.”
“I know,” Nick said.
“Sure,” said George.
“Should we have another bottle?” Nick asked.
“Not for me,” George said.
They sat there, Nick leaning his elbows on the table, George slumped back against the wall.
“Is Helen going to have a baby?” George said, coming down to the table from the wall.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Late next summer.”
“Are you glad?”
“Yes. Now.”
“Will you go back to the States?”
“I guess so.”
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
“Does Helen?”
“No.”
George sat silent. He looked at the empty bottle and the empty glasses.
“It’s hell, isn’t it?” he said.
“No. Not exactly,” Nick said.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” Nick said.
“Will you ever go skiing together in the States?” George said.
“I don’t know,” said Nick.
“The mountains aren’t much,” George said.
“No,” said Nick. “They’re too rocky. There’s too much timber and they’re too far away.”
