At least that’s what she says

She said she liked patriotic marches, so he bought a sousaphone. They marched around the backyard, sometimes naked, she the drum major, he carrying on the bass line for a melody to be imagined. It could irritate the neighbors. He liked to drink while they played these games. She put up with it as long as the marches could continue.
It was then that she decided that bluegrass was the new sensation. He grew a beard, wore overalls, bought a mandolin that would keep the neighbors up all night.
Next it was jazz and the laborious move of a grand piano and the purchase of a used baritone saxophone. During this phase they entertained more. The neighbors, once their enemies, became newfound friends.
Soon they started going to galleries and museums and she read artist biographies: Van Gogh, Gaudin, Picasso, Raushenberg, Warhol. They filled what was supposed to be the nursery, or so they thought when they bought the place, with canvasses. She took to drinking. Posing nude for him to paint her. Hours-long sessions would end with sex on the drop cloth. They talked of buying land, starting a commune. They didn’t see much of the neighbors during this period. When they did choose the be around others, it was always with the new friends in the city.

One day she came home in a new car and a new business suit. She said that she had been thinking. It was time for him to grow up. She had let a place in the city, with a new Wall-Street type that she had met at the opening reception last weekend that he chose not to attend. The guy’s and avid art collector apparently and has a wonderful collection of first-edition Hemingway novels. Apparently he’s a real man. She’s bought him a typewriter and he’s going to start writing novels. She’s taken a job at a bank. Taken on responsibility.
It’s time for him to take a good hard look at himself. It’s time for him to be responsible. That’s what she says.
He looks to the clock. It’s only late afternoon. He hears a train whistle as it approaches the station, and he thinks he better make it.