Tales of the City 03 - Further Tales of the City

waiting,” bemoaned the cleric. “It’s just that time of the month. Can’t this wait till lunch on Tuesday?”
    “No. It can’t.”
    “Very well.”
    “You’re so sweet to …”
    “Get on with it, darling.”
    “All right …” Prue hesitated, then began again. “We have slept together.”
    “Go on.”
    “And … it was good.”
    The priest cleared his throat. “Is he … clean?”
    Stony silence.
    “You do understand me, don’t you, my child? I’m talking hygiene, not morals. I mean, you don’t know where he’s been, do you?”
    Prue lowered her voice to an angry whisper. “He’s perfectly clean!”
    “Good. You can’t be too careful.”
    “I don’t need you to tell me how … different he is, Father. I know that better than anyone. I also know that I need him in my life very badly. I can’t eat … I can’t write … I can’t go back and make things the way they were before I met him. I can’t, Father. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
    “Of course, my child.” His voice was much gentler this time. “How are his teeth, by the way?”
    “For God’s sake!”
    “Prue, lower your voice. Mrs. Greeley is out there, remember?”
    A long silence, and then: “How can I share this with you, if you won’t be serious with me.”
    “I’m being deadly serious, darling. I asked about his teeth for a reason. It would help to know how … uh, presentable he is. Does he look O.K., aside from his clothes? I mean, would we have to fix him up?”
    “I cannot believe this!”
    “Just answer the question, my child.”
    “He’s … magnificent,” Prue sputtered. “He’s a handsome middle-aged man with nice skin, nice teeth. His vocabulary is better than mine.”
    “So all he needs is Wilkes?”
    “For what?”
    “To pass. What else? The man needs a new suit, darling. We all had to pass at one point or another. Henry Higgins did it for Eliza; you can do it for Luke. Simple, n’est-ce pas?”
    Prue was horrified. “Luke will not be … fixed up, Father.”
    “Have you asked him?”
    “I wouldn’t dream of that. He’s such a proud man.”
    “Ask him.”
    “I couldn’t.”
    The cleric sighed. “Very well.”
    “Anyway, where would I do it?”
    “Do what?”
    “This … makeover. He won’t come to my place, I know that. What would I do? Make him hide in the closet when my secretary’s there? It’s perfectly ridiculous.”
    Father Paddy seemed to ponder for a moment. “Let me work on it, darling. I have an idea.”
    “What?”
    “It’ll take a bit of arranging. I’ll get back to you. Run along now. Father knows best.”
    So Prue collected her things and left the confessional.
    Glowering, Mrs. Greeley watched her walk out of the cathedral.

White Night
    I T HAD BEEN FIVE DAYS SINCE THEIR LAST TAPING.
    “It’s wonderful to see you,” said DeDe. “I was going a little stir crazy at home.”
    They were eating dinner at a seafood place in Half Moon Bay. DeDe was wearing a Hermès scarf on her head and oversized sunglasses. Mary Ann was reminded of Jackie O’s old shopping get-up for Greece.
    “I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” said Mary Ann.
    “What?”
    “Being confined. First Jonestown, then the gay Cuban refugee center.”
    “You’ll never know true confinement,” mugged DeDe, “until you’ve lived with a hundred Latin drag queens.”
    Mary Ann grinned. “Grim, huh?”
    “Noisy. Castanets day and night. Aye-yi-yi till it’s coming out your ass.”
    Mary Ann laughed, then concentrated on her scallops. Was this the time to ask? Could she ease into the subject delicately? “Uh … DeDe?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Are you doing all right? I mean … is something the matter?”
    DeDe set her fork down. “Why do you ask?”
    “Well … your mother says you’ve been having nightmares.”
    Silence.
    “If I’m prying, tell me. I thought it might help you to talk about it.”
    DeDe looked down at the Sony Micro Cassette-Corder that Mary Ann had bought with her first paycheck from Mrs. Halcyon. “It wouldn’t make bad copy, either.”
    Mary Ann was devastated. She turned off the machine instantly. “DeDe, I would never …”
    “Please. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” DeDe’s hand rose shakily to her brow. “Turn it back on. Please.”
    Mary Ann did so.
    “I’m edgy,” said DeDe, massaging her temples. “I’m sorry … I shouldn’t take it out on you … of all people. Yeah, I’m having nightmares.”
    “About … him?”
    DeDe