Robert was already dressed and tip-toeing out when the phone on the dresser rang. Who the hell calls at two in the morning? He rushed across the room to prevent another ring. Olinka had not stirred; her breathing regular.
“Yeah,” he grunted.
“Robert? I knew you’d be there. They invaded.”
“You’re not kidding, are you? To scare me into coming home?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Turn the damn radio on. Tanks are crossing borders. Five armies. This is not about your pecker. We are an occupied country.”
Robert noticed his shirt was not tucked in on the right side. Pale blue panties were scrunched on the floor; the bottle still had two fingers in it, going flat. Bloody waste, he thought.
“Are they heading to Bratislava? Barricades up? Am I safe on the street?”
“Haven’t reached us yet but they’re on the way. The radio said five Warsaw pact armies are claiming to liberate us. Later we’ll talk about us, Robert, but now, get yourself here. Your children will need you at home, even if you don’t give a damn about your wife.”
“Half an hour,” he said. “If they don’t shoot me down like a dog, half an hour.” He put the phone down. The sheet had slipped off the sleeper. He stared for a moment at the lovely breast moving up and down. He always knew there’d be hell to pay.