Tales of the City 01 - Tales of the City

debutante who once looked like Veronica Lake?
    “I had lunch with Helen and Gladys at that darling place on Polk Street … The Pavilion. Then I bought a ceramic duck. Precious. Maybe it’s a goose. I think it’s supposed to be for soup, but I thought it would look darling in the den with some ivy or something.’’
    “Good.”
    “Annnd … I went to my Opera Guild meeting this afternoon and made the most marvelous discovery. What do you think it is?”
    “I don’t know.” Christ, how he hated this game!
    “C’mon. One eensy-weensy guess.”
    “Frannie, I’ve had a long day….”
    “Don’t you wuv me?”
    “For Christ’s sake!”
    “Oh, all right! If you’re going to be a grouch about it … Guess who’s in town?”
    “Who?”
    Frannie sustained the suspense as long as possible, shifting her torso on the sofa and adjusting her wig. She needs attention, thought Edgar. You haven’t been giving it to her.
    “The Huxtables,” Frannie said at last.
    “The who?”
    “Really, Edgar. Nigel Huxtable. The conductor. His wife is Nora Cunningham.”
    “It’s coming back to me.”
    “You slept through their Aida .”
    “Yes. Marvelous evening.”
    “They’re here to do a benefit for Kurt Adler. Practically nobody knows they’re staying at the Mark … and we’re going to give a party for them!”
    “We are?”
    “Aren’t you excited?”
    “We threw a party last month, Frannie.”
    “This is a coup, Edgar! The Farnsworths will just díe . Viola’s been gloating for two months over that absurd little barbecue she gave for Baryshnikov.”
    “I don’t even remember it.”
    “Yes you do. She hired those seedy Russian waiters from some place on Clement Street, and they served Russian dressing and Russian tea, and the organist played ‘Lara’s Theme’ when Baryshnikov made his entrance. It was too ghastly for words!”
    “You just did fairly well.”
    “Edgar … the Huxtables make Baryshnikov look like … Barney Google. I know I can get them, darling.”
    “Frannie, I just don’t think …”
    “Please … I didn’t complain when you wouldn’t let me have Truman Capote or Giancarlo Giannini.”
    Edgar turned away. He couldn’t face that Emmett Kelly expression. “All right. Try and keep the cost down, will you?”
    Emma warmed up some leftover quiche for him. He ate it in his study, while he scanned the new book he had ordered: Death as a Fact of Life.
    “Whatcha reading, darling?” Frannie was propped against the doorway.
    He closed the book. “Consumer research. Boring.”
    “You coming to bed?”
    “In a minute, Frannie.”
    She was out cold and snoring when he got there.

Stranger in the Park
    E DGAR SPOKE TO MARY ANN ON THE INTERCOM, “I NEED the Adorable script as soon as possible. I think Beauchamp has a copy.”
    “He’s out right now, Mr. Halcyon.”
    “Check with Mona, then.”
    “I don’t think she …”
    “Ask her, goddammit! Somebody’s got one!” As soon as Mary Ann was gone, Edgar dialed Jack Kincaid’s number.
    “Dr. Kincaid’s office.”
    “Is he in?”
    “May I tell him who’s calling?”
    “No, you may not!”
    “One moment, please, Mr. Halcyon.”
    Kincaid’s tone was much too jovial. “Hello, Edgar. How’s the pantyhose game?”
    “When can you see me?”
    “What about?”
    “The tests. I want new ones.”
    “Edgar, that won’t make a damn bit of …”
    “I’ll pay for them, goddammit!”
    “Edgar …”
    “You were wrong about Addison Branch. You told me so yourself.”
    “That was different. His symptoms weren’t so pronounced.”
    “Symptoms can change. It’s been three months.”
    “Edgar … look … I’m telling you as a friend. Stop fighting this thing. You’re beating your head against a wall. You’re not being fair to yourself or the people who love you.”
    “What the hell has fairness got to do with it?”
    “Face it, Edgar. You’ve got to. Tell your family. Buy yourself a yacht and take Frannie on a cruise around the world. Hell … rent a castle in Spain or run off with a whore or keep right on raising hell in Jackson Square … but face it! For God’s sake … no, for yours … make these next six months count.”
    When Mary Ann returned, he was waiting at her desk. “I’m going out. If anyone wants me, I’m at lunch with a client.”
    “Doro’s?”
    “Never mind where. Just say I’m out.” He strode out of the building, furious that a contract he had never signed was being carried out