Tales of the City 08 - Mary Ann in Autumn

thing.”
    She gave him a withering look that even the dog seemed to notice.
    “On the phone ,” Michael hastened to add, apparently thinking he was making things better. “It’s much better being face-to-face. You should come out more often.”
    That last remark, delivered with a crooked smile, was tinged with both tenderness and resentment. He seemed to be asking: Why does it take a calamity to get you here? His neediness came as a complete surprise to her, but it made her feel, well, needed.
    “Do you wanna take Roman for a walk?” she asked.
    T HEY FOLLOWED THE RIVER ROAD out of town. They walked down the centerline, in fact, since traffic was nonexistent, and it was difficult to navigate the mounds of plowed snow on the shoulders. The landscape was different here, more desert than forest, really. The taller pines had vanished in a matter of minutes, leaving only the squatty pinyons on the hills and the silvery skeletons of aspens along the riverbank.
    “I’d be more than happy to go with you,” Michael said out of nowhere.
    It took her a while to realize that he was talking about her surgery.
    “You haven’t said anything,” he added, “but the offer is there.”
    “Thanks, Mouse. That’s really sweet, but … I think DeDe has pretty much got me covered. It’s sort of a girl thing, anyway, you know.”
    He gave her a heavy-lidded scowl.
    “It’s just an overnighter, Mouse. I’d rather have you guys waiting for me when I get out.”
    “As you wish, madam. Whatever gender role you require.”
    She socked him on his shoulder with a gloved hand. It would have been nice to have taken his arm and simply strolled for a while through this bleakly beautiful place, but the dog was trotting between them on his leash, keeping apace. She’d noticed that Roman wasn’t good at heeling for one person, but he had to be in the middle if two were traveling as one. He had his own insecurities, this dog, and wasn’t letting go of them.
    After a long silence, she asked: “Have you seen Anna lately?”
    The name didn’t come naturally to her. First-name familiarity seemed almost disrespectful to the kind, stately presence Mary Ann had known as Mrs. Madrigal. But Michael had apparently been calling their former landlady “Anna” ever since he’d reached middle age, so Mary Ann had taught herself to follow his custom.
    “We had her over for dinner last month,” Michael replied. “I see her a fair amount, of course, when I have to pick up Jake … or drop something off.”
    She had met Michael’s assistant only once, when she had flown back to San Francisco in Bob’s jet after Mrs. Madrigal had suffered her stroke. He had struck Mary Ann as extremely shy but conscientious. She hadn’t had a clue that Jake was transgendered until Michael told her after her return to Connecticut.
    “It’s wonderful that she has him, isn’t it?”
    “And vice versa,” said Michael.
    A big black bird—a raven, she supposed, or maybe a crow—flew from the riverbank and landed just ahead of them on a yellow-and-black highway sign reading ICY CONDITIONS AHEAD . The bird cackled for a moment, as if punctuating the message, then flew away again, a harbinger out of Poe lost in the twenty-first century.
    It all goes so fast, she thought. We dole out our lives in dinner parties and plane flights, and it’s over before we know it. We lose everyone we love, if they don’t lose us first, and every single thing we do is intended to distract us from that reality.
    “Will you take me to see her?” she asked.
    Michael had lost track of the conversation. “Sorry … what?”
    “Will you take me to see Anna?”
    “Of course.” He seemed almost relieved. “As soon as we get back, if you like.”
    “Let’s wait until after the surgery,” she said. “It’ll be better then.”
    She was always putting things off, she realized, always assuming she’d have at least one more chance. Sooner or later, she would probably have to pay for that.

Chapter 22
Sacred Garments
    J ake was wearing one of Michael’s old coveralls that day. They were too tight around the waist for Michael, but they were still in good shape, so Michael had been happy to pass them along—tickled about it, in fact. Jake liked the retro eighties lettering of the name on the back— PLANT PARENTHOOD —and liked explaining its history, though the nursery hadn’t been Michael’s for years, and had since been renamed.
    There had been a break in the rain, so