Tales of the City 04 - Babycakes

then?”
“She saved my marriage, Mouse.”
“C’mon.”
“She did. He was ready to leave me when that baby showed up,”
“He would never have left you.”
“I don’t know that.”
“Well, I do. That’s bullshit.”
Father Paddy spotted Mary Ann and gave her a cheery wave from the podium. She waved back, then turned to Michael again. “I put Brian through hell.”
“How?”
“Well … I’d rather not say.”
“O.K., then don’t expect me to reinforce your guilt.”
She fidgeted with her program.
“Look,” he whispered, “whatever it was, Connie didn’t die for your sins. She just died.”
She nodded.
“This isn’t like you, Babycakes.” He reached for her hand as her eyes brimmed with tears. “Why are you so freaked?”
A man in rimless glasses took a seat behind the small electric organ and began to play “Turn Away.”
Michael was thrown. “Who requested that?” he asked.
“She did,” wept Mary Ann. “Before she died.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “It was her favorite song.”
He thought for a moment. “Then that means …”
She nodded.
“This is your dream!”
Another nod.
“And … yeah, of course … Brian wasn’t in it because he’s home taking care of the baby.”
She wiped her eyes. “You got it.”
“Jesus,” he murmured.
Father Paddy cleared his throat and surveyed his flock with a kindly smile. “My friends,” he intoned, “we are gathered here today to honor the memory of … uh … Bonnie Bradshaw.”
“Shit,” muttered Mary Ann.
    In the Pink
T HE WEATHER WAS BEASTLY,” SHE TOLD HER MANICURIST.
“What a shame! All the time?”
“Mmm.”
“Ah, well … it was beastly here too. I suppose it’s been beastly everywhere.”
“Mmm.”
“Simon says San Francisco was quite lovely when he left.”
“Well, he had more time to find out about that, didn’t he?”
“The other hand, Your Majesty.”
“What?”
“I’m done with this one. See? Don’t those cuticles look smashing?”
“Dash the cuticles.”
“Sorry.”
“We were talking about Simon.”
“You’re quite right.”
“He’s been very naughty.”
“I quite agree.”
“Any other officer would have been court-martialed straight away. No questions asked.”
“You’re so right. Shall we go a shade lighter?”
“What?”
“The nail varnish.”
“What about it?”
“Shall we pink it up a bit?”
“No.”
“Summer is just around the …”
“Miss Treves!”
“Very well.”
“If one isn’t feeling pink, one shouldn’t wear it.”
“How true.”
“Have you scolded Simon?”
“Repeatedly, Your Majesty. And he greatly appreciates your intercession.”
“One would hope so.”
“He’s spoken to a publishing firm. They’re going to take him on.”
“Charmed his way in, no doubt.”
“No doubt.”
“He’s too bally charming for his own good, that boy.”
“I quite agree, Your Majesty.”
“What sort of pink?”
“Beg pardon, Your Majesty?”
“The nail varnish. What sort of pink is it?”
“Oh … here. This one.”
“I see. Well, that’s not as drastic as one might imagine.”
“No, ma’am.”
“What’s it called?”
“ ‘Regency Rose,’ Your Majesty.”
“ ‘Regency Rose’?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Very well. That will do nicely. Carry on, Miss Treves.”

About the Author
A RMISTEIS M AUPIN the author of Tales of the City, More Tales of the City, Further Tales of the City, Babycakes, Significant Others, Sure of You, and Maybe the Moon . In 1994 Tales of the City became a controversial but highly acclaimed miniseries on public television. More Tales of the City became a Showtime original miniseries in 1998. Maupin lives in San Francisco.
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    Praise for

Babycakes
“Babycakes is wildly funny, tough, tender, outrageous
and always entertaining. If that sounds like a lot of
adjectives for one book, so be it. Already Maupin has
the touch of a young Evelyn Waugh.”
News and Observer (Raleigh, N.C.)
“Maupin’s prose is seamless; it floats along invisibly without
calling attention to itself, so that dialogue, exposition and
description blend easily together. It can uniformly and
flexibly accommodate a wide range of material, from the
whimsical to the pathetic, from the vulgar to the
beautiful, with equal capacity.”
New York Native
“Armistead Maupin is a first rate, world-class novelist,
creating characters so vivid, complicated, tender, and true as
to seem utterly