Tales of the City 04 - Babycakes

resemblance to you, that’s all.”
“So?”
“So … nothing.” He walked away muttering the rest of it. “If the lady wants a matched set, it’s none of my …”
He was cut short when Brian grabbed him by his collar, spun him around and rammed him against the wall.
“Watch it,” said Jerry. “You know what Perry said. Do that in here and you’re out on your ass.”
Brian hesitated. “A very good point.”
He secured a firmer hold on Jerry’s collar, dragged him into the restaurant, and let fly with a right hook that sent his tormentor hurtling backward into a table full of empty plastic hamburger baskets. The table overturned, dumping Jerry on the floor. Customers scattered. A woman screamed. The fat lady with the autographed menu stood slack-mouthed at the cash register. Brian strode up to her, took the menu from her hands, signed his name with the ballpoint in his pocket, returned the menu, and walked out the door without looking back.
He didn’t break stride until he had reached the top of Russian Hill, six or seven blocks away. His heart was pounding like crazy as he stopped for a moment outside Swensen’s Ice Cream and considered his next move. He decided to maintain a normal pace for the last block or so. If his boss had already called, it would only increase his humiliation to arrive home out of breath.
When he got there, ten minutes later, Mary Ann was preoccupied with their escape to the Claremont. She was on her hands and knees in the bathroom, combing the cabinet under the sink for last year’s Coppertone.
“I’m sure we can buy some there,” he said.
“I know, but this was my number and everything.”
“They’ll have your number.”
She stood up, brushing off her hands. “Aren’t you off work early?”
He faked her with a smile. “They took mercy on me. I told them we needed to beat the Friday traffic.”
“Perfect. Let’s do it.” She walked briskly into the bedroom; he followed. “You won’t believe it,” she said, “but I crammed us both into one suitcase.”
“Great.” He edged closer to the telephone, ready to grab it.
“I packed your sunglasses with the green lenses. I wasn’t sure if those were …”
“They’ll do fine,” he said.
“Well, if you want the others …”
He hoisted the suitcase. “I want to go.”
They had very little conversation until the Le Car reached the East Bay. “You know,” said Mary Ann, keeping her eyes on the freeway, “I think Simon was hurt by your abruptness this afternoon.”
He hesitated before answering. “Then … I’ll apologize to him.”
“Will you?” She glanced at him hopefully.
He nodded. “The minute we get back.”
“Well … whenever. He likes you a lot, Brian.”
“Good. I’ve got nothing against him.”
She reached over and rubbed his thigh. “Good.”
Minutes later, the Claremont materialized on the green hillside above them. “Isn’t it wonderful?” gushed Mary Ann.
“It turns seventy this year.”
“It’s a little too white,” he replied.
“Well … tough titty.”
“You know what I mean.” He grinned. “It looks like a sanatorium in Switzerland. Sanitarium. Which is it?”
“Huh?”
“C’mon. One is for crazy people; the other is for face-lifts and stuff.”
She shook her head. “They both mean the same thing.”
“Nah.”
She looked out the window. “Just drive,” she said.
When they reached the hotel, they left the Le Car with the doorman and went straight to their room. It was sunny and spacious and overlooked the tennis courts. They smoked a joint and changed into their swimming suits, saying almost nothing for five minutes. Then they headed down to the Jacuzzi adjoining the swimming pool, where the sunshine and the dope and the jet of warm water pulsing at his back lulled him into the gentlest of reveries. The catastrophe at the restaurant seemed like a bad dream.
Mary Ann submerged herself completely, then rose like a naiad and gazed up at the old hotel. “Pink,” she said finally. “No, peach.”
He thought he had missed something. “What?”
“The color they should paint it.”
He looked up at the hotel before turning to smile at her. She returned the smile, then grazed his calf with the side of her foot.
“You know what?” he said.
“What?”
“I don’t like anybody as much as I like you.”
She skipped a beat before replying, “Then why don’t you tell me the truth?”
The look on her face said it all. “You got a call?” he asked.
She nodded. “From