Tales of the City 02 - More Tales of the City

“behind that row of hotels … Michael?”
    “Sorry. I was thinking.”
    “About what?”
    “Shrines. Funerals, actually.”
    “Charming.”
    Michael looked at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve never planned your own funeral?”
    Jon shook his head, smiling.
    “Well, take this down, please. I’d like a big party at the Paramount Theater in Oakland, with lots of dope and munchies and all my friends ripped to the tits in the midst of all that Deco decadence. And when it’s over I’d like them to prop me up in a front-row seat, leave the theater … and bury the whole goddamn thing.”
    Jon laughed and squeezed the back of his head. “Couldn’t you do that without dying?”
    “Mmm. I often do.”
    Jon laughed, then cupped Michael’s face in his hands and kissed him. “Don’t die, O.K.? Not until I’m through with you.”

The Trouble with Burke
    S EATED IN A PINK-AND-ORANGE BOOTH AT THE ACAPULCO Denny’s, Mary Ann inspected her french fries and found them suspiciously grayish. “Ick,” she said, holding one up for Burke’s examination.
    He smiled uncomplainingly. “Ditto on the milk shake.”
    “I’m sorry, Burke.”
    “Why?”
    “I shouldn’t have dragged you here. I just felt like a hamburger, I guess.”
    “That’s O.K. So did I.”
    “We should have eaten at Colonel Sanders’.”
    He shrugged. “We can eat on the ship tonight.”
    “I’m not … being a drag, am I?”
    “I can’t tell,” he grinned. “I’m too much in love with you.”
    They rented a horse-drawn carriage and clopped through the city, trailing balloons behind them. It’s a Harlequin Romance, thought Mary Ann. Too corny, too perfect to be true. If I think about it too long or plan on anything, it’ll go away forever. So she nestled against Burke’s shoulder and slipped her mind into neutral.
    “How’s Michael?” asked Burke, as they passed the Ritz.
    “Much better. He had company last night. This morning too. I found out the hard way.”
    “What d’ya mean?”
    “I walked in on them.”
    Burke smiled. “That blond guy he had breakfast with?”
    “Uh huh. God, I can’t imagine what Melba and Arnold thought about that.”
    “Who’s Melba and Arnold?”
    “Mr. and Mrs. Matching. The couple at our table. They think Michael and I are married.”
    “How did that happen?”
    “Well … I told them. I mean, I didn’t want it to look like we were … shacked up or something. Plus, if I’d told them he was gay, they’d have freaked out and thought I was a fag hag.”
    “A what? ”
    Mary Ann kissed him on the ear. “I love you. You don’t know anything.”
    Back on the beach, they basted themselves in turtle lotion and stretched out on the sand. The simple, unspoiled beauty of the scene made Mary Ann painfully conscious of her dwindling days with Burke.
    But you mustn’t push, she ordered herself. You mustn’t frighten him.
    “Burke?”
    “Mmmm?”
    “This is really nice.”
    “You bet.”
    “I mean … I never thought I’d meet anybody like you on this trip.”
    “C’mon! With your looks?”
    “That’s sweet, but I mean it. Most of the guys I meet in San Francisco wanna talk about their dumb Porsches or their tape decks or getting their head together or something. I don’t hang around with Michael because I’m … desperate or anything. It’s just that … well, Michael makes me feel like I’m worth something. I was beginning to think that a straight man couldn’t do that for me.”
    Silence.
    She reddened instantly. “I embarrassed you, didn’t I?”
    “No, really …” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I haven’t felt very communicative, Mary Ann.”
    “It isn’t what you say, Burke. It’s—I don’t know—how you look at me, how you react to things. I know that you see me as a person. I’ll always be grateful for that. I want you to know that.”
    He rolled over on his side and pulled her against his chest, prompting giggles from two passing urchins. Mary Ann couldn’t have cared less. For one single, delirious moment she was certain they looked like Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr in From Here to Eternity.
    “Burke?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Have you ever thought about moving back to San Francisco?”
    Silence.
    You blew it, you dink. He’s on to you now. “I’m sorry, Burke. I shouldn’t have said that.”
    “That’s O.K.”
    “No it’s not. We’ll change the subject. I won’t get heavy, I promise.”
    “No. We should talk. There’s something I should