Tales of the City 02 - More Tales of the City

her mouth in mock penitence.
    “What’s that all about?” asked Mrs. Madrigal.
    “Mouse doesn’t like to talk about it.”
    The landlady’s eyes widened. “Ah hah!”
    “C’mon,” said Michael. “Lay off.”
    Mrs. Madrigal passed a joint to him. “I understand, dear. You’re … superstitious about him.” She touched his arm suddenly. “It is a him, isn’t it?”
    Michael took a toke off the joint and nodded.
    “Thank heavens,” sighed Mrs. Madrigal. “There are so few things you can count on these days.”
    Michael laughed. “Speaking of which … where’s Mona? I haven’t seen her since we got back.”
    “She’s down at the Searchlight, picking up some munchies for us.”
    “No, I mean … the apartment’s just like I left it. It doesn’t look like she’s even been home.”
    The landlady patted her hair nervously. “No. She’s been away. And lately she’s been staying here, in my spare room.”
    Michael hesitated, certain now that something was amiss. “Where … where did she go?”
    “Nevada.”
    “Tahoe?”
    Mrs. Madrigal shook her head. “Winnemucca.”
    “Winnemucca?” Michael frowned. “Why in the world did she pick that tacky place?”
    The landlady shrugged. “To get it together. In her words.”
    “Did she?”
    “She says she did.”
    Michael smiled. “She’s lying.”
    “Maybe,” said Mrs. Madrigal, clearly relishing the enigma she had begun to spin, “but she brought me a present.”
    Baffled silence.
    “She’s down at the store with Mona now, so I’ve got some quick explaining to do, if we’re going to be one big happy family again.” Mrs. Madrigal excused herself and hurried to the phone. Mary Ann heard her ask Brian to come down.
    He appeared minutes later, barefoot, in Levi’s and a shrimp-colored T-shirt. He nodded greetings to Mary Ann and Michael (“Hey, long time no see!”) and shook hands with Burke. Mrs. Madrigal took his arm in a gesture that struck Mary Ann as surprisingly intimate.
    “Brian’s heard all this before,” said the landlady calmly, “but I want the whole family here while I clear the air.”
    It took her fifteen minutes to do just that.
    She told her story without stopping. When she had come to the end, she fussed distractedly with her hair again and glanced apologetically at Burke. “So, dear boy … it’s not too late to back out.”
    Dazed and touched, Mary Ann looked first at Mrs. Madrigal, then at a red-faced Burke, then back at Mrs. Madrigal again. Brian stood by awkwardly, hands in pockets. Michael’s eye caught Mary Ann’s briefly, just as Mary Ann stepped forward.
    “Mrs. Madrigal, please don’t …” She took the landlady’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m so … proud of you. I think Mona’s the luckiest person in town.” She flung her arms around the landlady’s neck and held on tight.
    When she let go, Michael was standing there, smiling at Mrs. Madrigal. “I don’t believe you,” he said admiringly.
    She smiled back at him, cupping her hand against his cheek. “You’ll manage,” she said softly.
    When Mona arrived with Mother Mucca, there were more introductions and hugs, more hasty explanations and heartfelt apologies and clumsy declarations of love.
    Burke found a natural ally in Brian, Mary Ann noted.
    Brian, however, excused himself from the gathering just before midnight.
    “Late date?” Burke asked discreetly.
    Brian nodded.
    Mary Ann couldn’t resist kidding him. “Look what can happen in two weeks,” she said coyly. “Are you seeing somebody now, Brian?”
    “Yeah,” he replied. “You could say that.”

The Road to Ruin
    P INUS-BOUND AT LAST, FRANNIE HALCYON MADE HERSELF comfortable in Helena Parrish’s Fawn Mist Mercedes and smiled out at the golden Sonoma countryside.
    Helena took a long drag on her Du Maurier. “What did you tell your daughter?” she asked.
    “The truth. At least, part of it. I said I was going to the house in Napa. She wasn’t really listening. She’s been so distracted lately.”
    “Didn’t I read somewhere that she’s pregnant?”
    “Uh huh. Eight months. Eight and a half, actually.”
    “You aren’t nervous about leaving her?”
    Frannie looked at Helena. “How long will this take?”
    “It depends.”
    “On what?”
    Helena smiled. “On how much you like it.”
    Frannie giggled. “A few days can’t hurt. DeDe’s been—you know—irritable lately, and I think she’d probably like a little time to herself. Besides, she’s got a