His den was his refuge. It wasn't much of a den, just a few odd sofa chairs and scarred and wobbly tables, but it had a TV, and what else does a man need? Plus it was in the basement, and nobody wanted to come down those steep stairs, so he was mostly undisturbed. When it had been just Pearl and he at home, he hadn't needed the den. She kept her remarks to the half-times and ads. They'd sat upstairs, side by side, he watching, she reading, and life had been blissful. Then this female preoccupation with having a baby had started, and while he couldn't see the need, he'd given in after some resistance. Babies were a nuisance, he was well aware, but wives tended to want them. But usually, babies only became a nuisance after they were born. This one had made his life hell from Day Dot. First, it made Pearl very sick, so she couldn't do everything she normally did for him, and he had to do things for her instead, which was damned inconvenient. And he let her know it....
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