Tales of the City 03 - Further Tales of the City

thought for a moment. “Ned’s got a portable that he brings from home sometimes.”
    “Good. Get him to bring it on Tuesday. I want you to watch the show.”
    “Bargain Matinee?”
    “Is there any other? You don’t need to watch the movie … just my little halftime bit. I think you’ll be mildly amused.”
    “Don’t tell me. You’ve found a new use for empty Clorox bottles.”
    “Just watch the show, smartass.”
    “Roger.”
    “And get some sleep. We love you.”
    “I know that,” said Michael.
    But he slept much better knowing it.

That Nice Man
    C LAIRE MCALLISTER’S HUSBAND WAS IN THE CASINO again, so the raven-haired ex-chorine sought out Frannie’s company on the Promenade Deck of the Sagafjord. Frannie was thrilled to see her.
    “Pull up a chair,” she smiled, laying down her Danielle Steel novel. “I haven’t talked to a grown-up in ages.”
    Claire mugged amiably. “Who you callin’ a grown-up?”
    “You’ll do,” said Frannie. “Believe me.”
    Claire lowered her formidable frame into an aluminum deck chair and sighed dramatically. “So where are the little darlings?”
    Frannie shushed her with a forefinger to the lips. “Don’t even mention it, Claire. It’s almost too good to be true.”
    “What?”
    Frannie made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “This. Solitude. Blessed relief. I adore the children, as you know, but …”
    “You’ve found a babysitter!”
    The matriarch nodded triumphantly. “It was his idea, poor man. I hope he hasn’t bitten off more than he can chew.”
    “Do I know him?” asked Claire, pulling a blanket across her lap.
    “I think so,” said Frannie. “Mr. Starr.”
    Claire drew a blank.
    “You know,” added Frannie. “That American stockbroker from London.”
    “That good-looking thing traveling with the hoity-toity blonde?”
    Frannie smiled demurely. “They aren’t exactly traveling together.”
    “Horseshit.”
    “They met on the ship,” the matriarch explained, her face burning from the profanity. “I know her … somewhat remotely. She’s a gossip columnist in San Francisco. I’m afraid she’s a little common.”
    Claire snorted. “You’d think she was the Queen of Sheba. She puts on airs something fierce. What the hell does that elegant man see in her?”
    Frannie shrugged. “She’s rather pretty, don’t you think? I understand she listens well, too. At any rate, I can’t complain; she introduced me to him. I think I’m relaxed for the first time since we left San Francisco.”
    “Did the children take to him?”
    “Like a house on fire! He’s full of wonderful stories and jokes.” Frannie thought for a moment. “You know, he’s rather moody around adults … not sullen or rude, really … just introspective. Around the children, though, he’s a bundle of energy! He never stops trying to impress them. He’s like a child competing for a grown-up’s attention, instead of the other way around.”
    “He sounds perfect,” said Claire.
    Frannie nodded. “I think it’s important for the children to have a masculine presence.” She didn’t elaborate on this thesis, but it gave her pleasure to articulate it to a woman as sensible and down-to-earth as Claire. The twins had never had a father, after all … only that woman who had kept DeDe company in Guyana and Cuba. It wasn’t natural, Frannie reminded herself. Thank God for Mr. Starr!
    “Say,” said Claire, after an interlude of silence, “Jimbo has a little business to do when we dock this afternoon. Hows-about you and me exploring Sitka together? There’s a darling little Russian church and some marvelous scrimshaw shops. A couple of girls on the town … whatdya say?”
    Frannie hesitated. “Well … I …”
    “I know it’s a thrilling offer, honey, but try not to bust a gut!”
    Frannie smiled apologetically. “I was just thinking … well, the children.”
    “Can’t your Mr. Starr take them off your hands for a while?”
    Frannie’s brow wrinkled. “He did offer, as a matter of fact.”
    “Wonderful! Then, it’s settled!”
    “It seems such an imposition, though.”
    “Look, honey, if that man is cuckoo for kids, that’s his problem, not yours. You’ve gotta learn to recognize a gift from God when you see one!”
    Frannie conceded with a grin. “You’re right. This is supposed to be a vacation.”
    “Exactly,” said Claire.
    Half-an-hour later, when Frannie went to pick up the twins, she found them giggling under a “fort”