Tales of the City 06 - Sure of You

would be great,” said Brian.
    Micheal brought back the bottle with a glass. Somehow, the mission seemed fraught with urgency, like serum being dogsledded across the Yukon. “There’s not much to mix it with. Diet Cherry Coke, maybe?”
    “Straight up’s fine.”
    Michael poured several inches. Brian downed it in one gulp and handed the glass back. “I know that’s a cliché, but it had to be done.”
    Michael smiled. “Want another?”
    “Nope. That was it. Thanks.”
    “No problem.”
    Brian looked down at his hands, dangling between his legs. “I talked to her,” he said.
    “Did you?” It was best, Michael decided, not to tell him she had called. That could only lead to trouble. He put down the glass and sat next to Thack on the sofa.
    “Why didn’t I see it coming?” said Brian. “How out of it could I have been?”
    There was a long silence, during which Harry hopped onto the armchair and settled his chin against Brian’s leg.
    “I was actually picturing it, you know.”
    “What do you mean?” asked Michael.
    “New York,” explained Brian. “We had a brownstone on the Upper West Side. And a cat. And Shawna and I knew the museums by heart.” Brian stroked the dog’s back. “I was just cruising along like everything was copacetic.”
    “Why shouldn’t you?” Thack said quietly.
    “But…if I’d communicated more…”
    “Look,” said Thack, “it’s not your fault.”
    Michael, who was thinking what a straight word “copacetic” was, cast a nervous glance at his lover. Neutrality was in order here, and Thack, as usual, seemed on the verge of blowing it. “I don’t think it’s a question of fault, really.”
    Thack gave him a dirty look.
    “I can’t go back to the condo,” said Brian. “Not while she’s still there.”
    Silence all around.
    “Somebody’s gotta talk to Shawna, I know, but…” Brian’s face balled up like a first, rubbery with grief. He began to sob soundlessly.
    Michael and Thack remained still.
    “I’m sorry, guys.”
    “That’s O.K.,” said Michael.
    “It’s just there, you know?” Brian took a couple of swipes at his eyes. “I thought I had it under control.”
    The doorbell fired off another sally, making them all jump. Harry sprang off Brian’s lap and barked vigorously at the latest intruder.
    “Who the fuck is that?” Thack looked at Michael.
    “Got me.” Michael picked up the poodle, causing him to downgrade his yap to a low growl. Brian gave Michael an apprehensive look, as if he thought Mary Ann herself was waiting behind the door.
    Thack peered through the spy hole. “Christ.”
    “What?” said Michael.
    “What day is this? Think.”
    It took Michael a moment. “Oh, shit.”
    “Do we have anything?” asked Thack.
    Michael racked his brain. There hadn’t been candy in the house for months. None, at any rate, that had survived their last tumble off the sugar wagon. There weren’t even any apples. This was the second year in a row they had forgotten to stock up on treats for the kids. In this neighborhood it wasn’t just the grownups who did Halloween.
    The doorbell rang again.
    “Maybe they’ll go away,” offered Thack.
    “We can’t do that,” said Michael. He dashed to the kitchen and found a package of dried apricots in the back of the cupboard. “How many are there?” he hollered.
    “Just one,” yelled Thack. “At the moment.”
    Michael returned with the apricots and opened the door to a three-foot Roger Rabbit. “Well, hello there.”
    The kid held out a Gump’s bag without a word. In a single, guilty movement, Michael deposited the apricots, hoping they would sound like Tootsie Rolls. The kid said “Thanks” and ran back to a cluster of older children waiting on the sidewalk. Michael closed the door and leaned against it, feeling like a total fraud.
    “If you’d done that to me,” said Brian, “I would have TP’ed your house.”

    There were bound to be more trick-or-treaters, so Michael made an emergency run to the Noe Hill Market, where he found a giant assortment of miniature candy bars. If they didn’t give them all away, he could always throw them out in the morning.
    Back at the house, while Brian played listlessly with Harry in the living room, Thack confronted Michael in the kitchen. “Shouldn’t we offer him the guest room?”
    “I don’t know, sweetie.”
    “We can’t just…send him off.”
    “Yeah, but it would seem like taking sides.”
    “Who cares?”
    “I care. Mary