Tales of the City 02 - More Tales of the City

“I have to see if it fits O.K.”
    Mother Mucca stared at Mona for several seconds, dabbed her eyes, and grinned. “You’re an angel, dolly.”
    “And you’re full of shit,” said Mona.

This Year’s Song
    T HIS IS NICE,” SAID MARY ANN, SIPPING A PINA COLADA in the Starlight Lounge of the Pacific Princess, while a pianist played “I Write the Songs.” Burke answered with a nod, smiling at her.
    “Michael says this song is this year’s ‘What I Did for Love.’ ”
    “I don’t get it.”
    “Well, you know. Like every year there’s a song that everybody records. Two years ago it was ‘Send in the Clowns’—or was it three? Anyway, last year it was ‘What I Did for Love,’ which I really like, even though they do play it to death. I mean … if a song is good, I don’t see what’s wrong with playing it a lot, do you?”
    “No. I guess not.”
    “I think ‘What I Did for Love’ is probably my all-time favorite. At least … well, it’s the only one on the album that you can hum. Not that that’s all that important, but … well, I mean, who can hum ‘The Music and the Mirror’?”
    “You’ve got me there. I don’t even know what album you’re talking about.”
    “You know. Chorus Line. “
    He shook his head. “Sorry.”
    “The musical, Burke. It came to San Francisco.”
    “I told you I was out of it.”
    Mary Ann shrugged, but she was inwardly relieved. He couldn’t be gay if he’d never heard of A Chorus Line. She decided to change the subject. Burke seem uncomfortable with popular music.
    “How long did you live in San Francisco, Burke?”
    “Not long, really. Actually, I consider Nantucket my home.”
    “You work there?” She felt that was more tactful than “What do you do?” Nine months in San Francisco had programmed that question out of her system forever.
    “Sort of. My father’s in publishing. I help him out sometimes.”
    “Oh, what fun!” Was that ever gushy! Why was this conversation such a dud?
    “Mary Ann, let’s get some air, O.K.?”
    Out on the fantail, they leaned against the rail and watched the moon rise above a calm sea. As usual, she was the one to break the silence.
    “I talk too much, don’t I?”
    He slipped his arm around her shoulder. “Not at all.”
    “Yes, I do. I won the Optimist Oratory Contest in high school, and I haven’t stopped talking since.”
    He laughed. “I’m afraid you’re holding up both ends of the conversation.”
    She let that go, turning to face the water again. “Do you know what blew me away this morning?”
    “What?”
    “The lifeboat drill … what the captain said. I didn’t know that women and children don’t get to go first anymore.”
    “Yeah. Things have changed, I guess.”
    “I wish they wouldn’t.”
    He answered by squeezing her shoulder.
    “I mean, it isn’t a bit fair. The song says it’s still the same old story, but it isn’t, is it? Who the hell gets to be Ingrid Bergman anymore?”
    “Now that’s one I know.” He chuckled.
    “How old are you, Burke?”
    “Twenty-seven.”
    “You seem—I don’t know—not older exactly, but more … It’s hard to explain. You seem like you’re twenty-seven, but someone who was twenty-seven a long time ago.”
    “Out of it, in other words.”
    “Why do you keep saying that? I like it, Burke. I really do.”
    He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I like you .”
    “Do you?” she asked.
    “Yes. Very much, Mary Ann.”
    “Ingrid,” she said, and kissed him back.

Family Planning
    U NDER THE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS OF THE DOGGIE Diner, the crags and craters of Bruno Koski’s face assumed lunar proportions. The corners of his mouth, Beauchamp noticed, were hydrophobic with mayonnaise.
    “Now, lemme get this straight, man. You don’t want her greased, you just—”
    “Keep your voice down, Bruno!”
    Bruno shrugged and cast a contemptuous glance around the diner. “They’re all space cadets, man. They ain’t listenin’.”
    “You don’t know that.”
    “I know a fuckin’ space cadet when I see one.”
    This was true. Bruno did know his space cadets. Beauchamp looked down at his hamburger. “OK. I didn’t mean to … Look, I’m just jumpy. I’ve never done this before.”
    “So tell me what the fuck you want, man.”
    Beauchamp kept his head down, laboriously removing the onions from his hamburger. “I want you to … see to it that she doesn’t have the baby—the babies.”
    Bruno blinked at him