Tales of the City 01 - Tales of the City

locked into the smile of a corporate receptionist.
    She seemed artificially restrained, moving with such deliberate dignity that her kimono looked as dowdy as a housecoat.
    “Mona’s left, hasn’t she?”
    He nodded. “Yesterday.”
    “For good?”
    “So she says. But you know Mona.”
    “Yes.” Her smile was off-kilter.
    “I’m gonna stay, Mrs. Madrigal. I mean … I’d like to. Mona’s gonna pay off the rest of this month’s rent, and I’ve registered with an employment agency, so if you’re worried …”
    “Where did she go, Michael?”
    “Oh … uh … a friend’s house. In Pacific Heights.”
    Mrs. Madrigal walked to the window, where she stood motionless, keeping her back to Michael. “Pacific Heights,” she echoed.
    “Didn’t she … talk to you, Mrs. Madrigal?”
    “No.”
    “I’m sure she planned to. Things have been kinda hectic for her lately. Anyway, I’m still here. It’s not like she’s breaking a lease or anything.”
    “Do you know this person, Michael?”
    “Who? … Oh … no, I’ve never met her.”
    “A woman?”
    He nodded. “Somebody she knew in New York.”
    “Oh.”
    “Mona says she’s really nice.”
    “I’m sure … Michael, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to….”
    “Uh huh?”
    “Is this woman … are she and Mona special friends?”
    “Uh …”
    “Do you understand me, dear?”
    “Sure. I don’t know, Mrs. Madrigal. They used to be … in New York. I think they’re just … regular friends now.”
    “Well … then why on earth …? Michael, has Mona ever said anything to you about me? Anything that … might make you think she was unhappy here?”
    “No, ma’am,” he said earnestly, reverting to Central Floridian custom. “She was crazy about Barbary Lane … and she liked you a lot.”
    Mrs. Madrigal turned to face him. “Liked?” she asked. “No. Likes. She’s very fond of you, I’m sure she’ll call. Really.”
    The landlady turned crisply businesslike again. “Well, you’re staying. That’s something.”
    “I’ll try to be better about the rent.”
    “I know. Look, dear, I’ve got a brand-new lid, and the night is young. Will you join me?”
    Her fingers trembled noticeably as she worked the roller. She set it down, drew a breath, and massaged her forehead with both hands. “I’m sorry, Mouse. I’m being awfully silly.”
    “Please don’t … Where did you hear that name?”
    She chewed her lower lip for a moment, observing him. “I’m not the only one that Mona was fond of.”
    “Oh … yeah.”
    “My stupid fingers won’t behave! Would you do the …?”
    He took the roller from her, avoiding her eyes as they began to fill with tears. “Mrs. Madrigal, I wish I could say …”
    She moved no closer, but her long, slender hand came to rest on his knee as she pressed a handkerchief to her face. “I hate weepy women,” she said.

The Shadow Knows
    T HE RAT-FACED MAN IN THE SAFARI SUIT MOVED SO close to DeDe that she could smell the Cherry Blend on his breath. “You’ve lost weight,” he smirked, flashing an uneven row of Vuitton-colored teeth.
    DeDe nodded. “How have you been, Carson?”
    “Hangin’ in there. A fat farm, huh?”
    “The Golden Door.” She smiled when she said it, without elaborating. He was pumping her, she knew, and she didn’t relish the thought of reading about her weight problem in Western Gentry magazine.
    “Well, it looks damn good.”
    “Thanks, Carson.”
    “What do you think of the artist?”
    That threw her for a moment. Paintings were the last thing she noticed at an opening. “Oh … a very individual style. Quite sensitive, I think …”
    “You and Beauchamp in the market?”
    “Oh … no, I don’t think so, Carson. Beauchamp and I are into Western art.”
    He sucked on his pipe, never taking his tiny eyes off her face. “This man’s Western,” he said finally.
    “I mean … you know … the old stuff.”
    “Yeah, the old stuff. Sometimes the old stuffs better.” He winked at her, chewing methodically on his pipestem until she acknowledged the joke with a thin smile.
    “Excuse me, will you, Carson? I think Beauchamp …”
    “I was hoping you’d tell me about the Fol de Rol.”
    “Oh … sure.” Her spirits brightened instantly. This could be a coup that would drive Shugie Sussman up the wall!
    Callas pulled a pad and pencil from the pocket of his safari suit. “You’re on the committee, right?”
    “Yeah. Me and a few