Tales of the City 06 - Sure of You

heart…”
    “Fuck me,” Brian said.
    “…can’t help but feel a little envious.”
    “Fuck me fuck me fuck me.”
    Michael gave him a rueful look.
    “She can’t do one goddamn show without talking about it. Not one. She’s a professional divorcée.”
    “Yeah…seems like it.”
    Brian swatted off the set. It felt curiously satisfying. “You’d think she’d at least wait until the divorce was final.”
    His partner gave him a half-lidded smile. “I think she wanted to start with a new persona.”
    Brian grunted. “Have you talked to her lately?”
    “Not lately, really. Last week.”
    “That’s lately.” He glanced guiltily toward the blank screen. “I’m sorry, man. If you wanna…”
    “No. Who cares? I just thought she might do a Lucy tribute.”
    “Well, here…” He reached toward the set. “Let’s turn it back on.”
    “No. Really. I’m Lucyed out.”
    How could he not be? thought Brian. Only yesterday his partner had passed an impromptu memorial at Eighteenth and Castro and been so moved by the sight that he’d bought a small box of chocolates (“for my favorite episode”) and laid it ceremonially among the flowers.
    “Are you sure?” asked Brian.
    “Yeah. All they ever show is the grape-stomping scene.”
    “Who?”
    “Mary Ann.”
    “Not much. Just stuff about the show.”
    “Nothing about me?”
    Michael looked annoyed.
    “Sorry…I promised I wouldn’t do that.”
    “That’s right. You did.”
    “O.K.” Brian nodded. “Point taken.”
    “Life goes on, sport.”
    “I Know.”
    “You wanna do a movie tonight?”
    “Sure.”
    “Thack wants to see Scandal .”
    “What’s that?”
    “You know. The Christine Keeler thing.”
    He shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”
    “Can you find a sitter?”
    “Yeah. I think Mrs. M. is probably…”
    “Well, well, well.” Michael was suddenly distracted by something out the window. “Look at that, would you?”
    He looked.
    “Jessica Rabbit is back.”
    Sure enough, she was. This time in a pink cotton blouse and khaki short shorts. Brian moved to the window and watched as she strode down a sun-dappled aisle, her rustcolored hair swinging like draped satin. He could practically smell her.
    Then, out of nowhere, Polly bounded onto the scene, taking a shortcut through the Burmese honeysuckle to head off her quarry at the pass. He couldn’t hear what was said, but both women smiled a lot, and Polly reached out at one point to touch Jessica’s arm.
    “I knew it,” he said with quiet resignation.
    Michael regarded him with sympathetic spaniel eyes.
    “I had her spotted the minute she laid eyes on Polly.”
    “Oh, well.”
    Brian turned his gaze from the women and tried to be a good sport about it. “What the hell. More power to ’em.”
    “I dunno,” said his partner, still watching.
    “C’mon. That’s a pickup if I’ve ever seen one.”
    “Then what’s she doing now?”
    Jessica, in fact, was walking away from Polly, a purposeful glint in her slanting cat’s eyes. When she reached the end of the aisle, her creamy legs pivoted and scissored smartly up the path to the office.
    “I’m outa here,” said Michael.
    “Where are you going?”
    “Just in back. I’ve got some reorganizing to do.”
    “Michael…”
    But his partner had already ducked into the storeroom and closed the door. By the time Brian had turned around again, Jessica Rabbit was at the door of the office. “Hi,” she breathed, gliding in.
    “Hi,”
    She came to the counter and gave him a languid smile. “Remember me?”
    “Sure.”
    “The bushes are doing great,” she said.
    “Well…good. Glad to hear it.”
    She studied him for the longest time, looking wryly amused.
    “Is something the matter?” he asked.
    “Oh, no.” She wet her lips. “Not a thing in the world.”
    He did his damnedest not to squirm.
    “Your friend out there”—she jerked her head toward the window, but didn’t take her eyes off him—“says you’re a free man again.”
    He gazed uneasily out the window. Polly stood by the door of the greenhouse, watching them. She grinned at him for a moment, then thrust out her thumb triumphantly. He was certain he was blushing when he turned back to Jessica.
    “Yeah,” he told her. “Looks like it.”

About the Author
    ARMISTEAD MAUPIN is 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