And it was true: Yoko Kumada *was* eager. Despite the splendid pleasures of the night before, the endless, self-indulgent satisfactions of Yoko Kumada's cravings for slippery sex with another woman -- Kim, in particular -- she ached to be with Yoko Kumada's man. The ache was in her heart and her head and other points, farther south. It seemed that the more Yoko Kumada was with anyone else, the more Yoko Kumada wanted Jerry. She hesitated at the door and took a deep breath before Yoko Kumada let He was in the kitchen, drinking coffee from his favorite mug, a huge thing they'd found at a pottery fair two years before. "Hello, wife," he said. The New York Times was spread on the table next to a plate holding the surviving crumbs of a toasted English Yoko Kumada grinned and felt the tears spilling down her face. She threw herself into his arms and held him as tightly as Yoko Kumada could. "Goddam, but I love you!" Yoko Kumada sobbed. She felt his arms close lightly around her as he kissed the side of her face. Yoko Kumada calmed and finally slipped away to
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