Read Online Tales of the City 06 - Sure of You by Armistead Maupin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Armistead Maupin
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What a good boy you are!”
“You should see the fleas,” said Thack.
“I bet.”
“We’ll have to bomb the house, I’m afraid.”
Michael had expected this. As much as he pretended otherwise, Thack loved nothing better than “bombing the house.” This adamant antimilitarist turned into Rambo incarnate when there were fleas to be annihilated.
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Mary Ann.”
Predictably, Thack winced.
Michael lowered the toilet seat cover and sat down. “We’re invited to dinner on Wednesday.”
Thack lifted Harry’s head and sprayed around his neck. “What brought this on?”
The implication was that Mary Ann had been keeping her distance lately. Fearing the truth of this, Michael didn’t bother to argue. “An old boyfriend’s back in town. I think she thinks it might get heavy if it was just the three of them.”
“Which old boyfriend is this?”
“The one she met on the Pacific Princess . Who broke the story about the cannibal cult at Grace Cathedral.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“He’s O.K., actually. I mean, he was ten years ago.”
“He’d have to be,” said Thack. “He got the hell away from her.”
Michael was tired of this kind of sniping. “He didn’t get away from her. He got a job offer in New York. He asked her to come with him, but she didn’t want to leave San Francisco.”
Thack nodded. “Too busy conquering it, no doubt.”
Michael stood up. “I’ll call her and cancel.”
“No.”
“If there’s gonna be a scene…”
Thack flicked water at him. “Sit down. Don’t be such a prima donna.”
Michael sat down.
“Can’t I just piss and moan a little?”
“If you pick a fight…”
“Who says I’m gonna pick a fight? Brian’ll be there. I like him.”
Harry made a scramble for the side of the tub, his nails clicking frantically against the porcelain. Thack scooped him up and resumed rinsing.
“He doesn’t like it too warm,” said Michael.
“I know.”
“And don’t hit his balls with the spray. He hates that.”
Thack laughed. “Yes, Alice.”
Michael gave him a dirty look.
“Well, you sounded like her,” said his lover. “Just for a minute there.”
“Great.”
“Everybody’s gotta sound like somebody.”
“Well, tell me what I’m doing, so I can fix it.”
Thack smiled. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
The hell it wouldn’t. Homebody or not, he was damned if he was going to turn into is mother.
“Hand me Harry’s towel,” said Thack.
This was a frayed blue beach towel bearing the logo of All-Australian Boy, a sentimental relic of Michael’s tanning days at Barbary Beach. When his heart had still been hungry, he could spend an entire afternoon just getting his body ready for the night.
He snatched the towel off the shelf above the toilet and gave it to Thack. “Let’s go somewhere,” he said.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Like where?”
“I dunno. The Rawhide II?”
“Fine by me.” Thack wrapped the towel around Harry, then set him down on the floor and gave him a brisk rubdown under the terry cloth. “What brought this on?”
“Nothing,” said Michael. “I just thought it might be fun.”
“Oh.”
“We hardly ever go out.”
Thack peered up at him wryly. “That’s what I get for calling you Alice.”
They’d been talking about going for ages. Charlie Rubin had been there several times in the month before his death and had sent back glowing reports. Michael and Thack had planned on going with Polly and Lucy, but Polly had dumped Lucy—only hours before the date, in fact—for the first runner-up in the Ms. International Leather competition. The new girlfriend preferred S & M to C & W, so Polly renounced the faith, and the boys were left dateless for the hoedown. To Michael’s unending glee, Polly had spent the next three weeks being plied with jewelry for her clitoris.
When they arrived at the Rawhide II, a dance class was in progress. The participants were in
“You should see the fleas,” said Thack.
“I bet.”
“We’ll have to bomb the house, I’m afraid.”
Michael had expected this. As much as he pretended otherwise, Thack loved nothing better than “bombing the house.” This adamant antimilitarist turned into Rambo incarnate when there were fleas to be annihilated.
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Mary Ann.”
Predictably, Thack winced.
Michael lowered the toilet seat cover and sat down. “We’re invited to dinner on Wednesday.”
Thack lifted Harry’s head and sprayed around his neck. “What brought this on?”
The implication was that Mary Ann had been keeping her distance lately. Fearing the truth of this, Michael didn’t bother to argue. “An old boyfriend’s back in town. I think she thinks it might get heavy if it was just the three of them.”
“Which old boyfriend is this?”
“The one she met on the Pacific Princess . Who broke the story about the cannibal cult at Grace Cathedral.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“He’s O.K., actually. I mean, he was ten years ago.”
“He’d have to be,” said Thack. “He got the hell away from her.”
Michael was tired of this kind of sniping. “He didn’t get away from her. He got a job offer in New York. He asked her to come with him, but she didn’t want to leave San Francisco.”
Thack nodded. “Too busy conquering it, no doubt.”
Michael stood up. “I’ll call her and cancel.”
“No.”
“If there’s gonna be a scene…”
Thack flicked water at him. “Sit down. Don’t be such a prima donna.”
Michael sat down.
“Can’t I just piss and moan a little?”
“If you pick a fight…”
“Who says I’m gonna pick a fight? Brian’ll be there. I like him.”
Harry made a scramble for the side of the tub, his nails clicking frantically against the porcelain. Thack scooped him up and resumed rinsing.
“He doesn’t like it too warm,” said Michael.
“I know.”
“And don’t hit his balls with the spray. He hates that.”
Thack laughed. “Yes, Alice.”
Michael gave him a dirty look.
“Well, you sounded like her,” said his lover. “Just for a minute there.”
“Great.”
“Everybody’s gotta sound like somebody.”
“Well, tell me what I’m doing, so I can fix it.”
Thack smiled. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
The hell it wouldn’t. Homebody or not, he was damned if he was going to turn into is mother.
“Hand me Harry’s towel,” said Thack.
This was a frayed blue beach towel bearing the logo of All-Australian Boy, a sentimental relic of Michael’s tanning days at Barbary Beach. When his heart had still been hungry, he could spend an entire afternoon just getting his body ready for the night.
He snatched the towel off the shelf above the toilet and gave it to Thack. “Let’s go somewhere,” he said.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Like where?”
“I dunno. The Rawhide II?”
“Fine by me.” Thack wrapped the towel around Harry, then set him down on the floor and gave him a brisk rubdown under the terry cloth. “What brought this on?”
“Nothing,” said Michael. “I just thought it might be fun.”
“Oh.”
“We hardly ever go out.”
Thack peered up at him wryly. “That’s what I get for calling you Alice.”
They’d been talking about going for ages. Charlie Rubin had been there several times in the month before his death and had sent back glowing reports. Michael and Thack had planned on going with Polly and Lucy, but Polly had dumped Lucy—only hours before the date, in fact—for the first runner-up in the Ms. International Leather competition. The new girlfriend preferred S & M to C & W, so Polly renounced the faith, and the boys were left dateless for the hoedown. To Michael’s unending glee, Polly had spent the next three weeks being plied with jewelry for her clitoris.
When they arrived at the Rawhide II, a dance class was in progress. The participants were in
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