Tales of the City 06 - Sure of You

first dose of television, and all other potions had paled by comparison. Witches were just as susceptible as anyone else.
    The phone was ringing when she reached her inner sanctum.
    “Yeah?”
    “It’s Burke, Mary Ann.”
    “Oh, hi.” She collapsed on her sofa, toed her shoes off. “You’re back. How was L.A.?”
    “Good. Useful. I’ve lined up some more talent.”
    “Terrific.”
    “Is this a good time?”
    “Sure.”
    “Have you had time to think it over?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “And?”
    “I think we can do business.”
    She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Maybe a small preppy cheer of some sort. Or at least a burst of boyish laughter. What she got was a brief silence and the sound of breath being expelled. “Well,” he said. “All right.”
    She said: “I think we’ve got a hit on our hands.”
    “You bet.”
    “What’s our timetable?”
    He didn’t hesitate. “I need you in New York by the end of the month.”
    She’d expected this but gave a whistle, anyway.
    “I know. I’ll make it as easy as possible for you. I’ll get you the best movers in the business.”
    “Actually,” she said, “I won’t need to move that much.”
    “You’re gonna sell your stuff?”
    “No. Brian wants to stay here with Shawna.”
    “But, I mean, eventually…”
    “No,” she said. “They’ll stay here for good.”
    Silence.
    “He thinks it’s best,” she said, “and so do I.”
    “Well…”
    “It’s not fair to uproot Shawna, and he’s got his own business.” She paused, wondering how Burke was taking this. “I’ll really just need a furnished place for the time being.”
    He seemed to hesitate. “Is this resolved?”
    “Yes.”
    “Completely?”
    “Yes,” she said quietly. “This has been coming for a long time.”
    “I’m sure you understand.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a contract involved here.”
    “I know.”
    “Are you getting a divorce?”
    “Does it matter?”
    After a moment he said: “No. Not really.”
    “It’s all completely amicable. You don’t have to worry about it.”
    “All right…O.K.”
    “Shall we meet?” she asked.
    “No. I’m flying back to New York tonight. There’s nothing we can’t work out on the phone.”
    Another call came in. “Hang on,” she said. “Would you?”
    “That’s O.K. I’ll sign off. We’ll talk at the beginning of the week. I’m delighted about this, Mary Ann. I’ve got a great feeling about it.”
    “Me too,” she said. “Talk to you later.”
    She punched the flashing button. “Yeah?”
    “It’s Security, Mary Ann.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Your husband’s here.”
    What the hell was this about? “To pick me up?” she asked.
    “I dunno.”
    “Well, ask him, please!”
    “I can’t. He’s on the way up.”
    “Terrific.” She slammed down the phone, suddenly filled with panic.

    The rap on her door came moments later.
    “Yes?” she called evenly.
    “It’s me.”
    She opened the door, to find him looking wretched and drawn, like a lost man stumbling into a ranger station.
    “What is it? What’s the matter?”
    “You tell me,” he said.
    “Huh?”
    “Michael says you don’t want me to go with you.”
    That little snitch, she thought.
    “Is it true?”
    She eased the door shut and gestured toward a chair.
    He sat down at once, obedient in his shock, and gazed up at her with red-rimmed eyes, waiting for an answer.
    “He shouldn’t have said that,” she told him.
    He nodded slowly, obviously taking that for a yes. “I thought maybe that…?” He cut himself off as his eyes filled with tears and overflowed.
    She sat on the arm of his chair and touched his arm gently. “Please don’t think…”
    There was a rap on her door.
    “Yes?” she called irritably.
    Raymond’s head poked through the doorway, prickly with mousse. “Sorry. Need some autographs for the studio audience.”
    “Come back later, please.”
    “But they’re leaving in…”
    “Raymond…”
    “Right. Sorry.” He shut the door.
    “I’d hoped we could talk tonight,” she told Brian.
    “How long have you felt like this?”
    She didn’t answer.
    “A month? A year? What?”
    She stroked his arm and used the gentlest tone she could muster. “I think you’ve felt it too.”
    “No.” He shook free of her and stood up, his cheeks slick with tears, his voice choked with anger. “I don’t think I have. I don’t think I’ve felt that at all.”
    She paused for a moment, still on the edge of the chair.