Tales of the City 06 - Sure of You

play?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “I have a feeling it’s not the lead, but …” She widened her eyes as winningly as possible.
    “It’s an atom.”
    “Adam?” She frowned. “A girl plays Adam?”
    “No. An atom. Like…a nuclear particle.”
    That school, she thought. “Doesn’t sound very Christmasy.”
    “It’s about…you know, saving the planet.” He smiled at her, sort of.
    “When can I tell her you’ll be back?”
    “Friday.”
    After she was gone, in other words.
    “She knows that already,” he added.
    “Oh…O.K.”
    “She won’t be alone, will she?”
    “No,” she answered. “Nguyet’ll be here. I’ve explained everything to Shawna. She’s O.K. about it.”
    He nodded.
    “The logistics have all been worked out.”
    “I’m sure,” he said. “What time are you leaving?”
    “There’s a limousine coming at six.”
    “ P.M .?”
    “ A.M .”
    He winced, apparently empathizing. “You have to get up early for this job too.”
    She smiled. “I guess I’m in the habit.”
    Their eyes met for a moment, then sought safer places to rest.
    “I’m really sorry,” she said.
    He held up his palm. “Hey.”
    “I think you’re such a great guy…”
    “Mary Ann.”
    “I don’t know what to say. I feel so awful.”
    “Fuck it,” he said quietly. “I’m over it.”
    He didn’t look a bit over it.
    “Michael’s the one you should talk to,” he added.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Well…this is kind of it for you guys.”
    “What?”
    “I mean, if he got sick…You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”
    “What is this? What are you saying? I shouldn’t be going, because he might get sick and I should be here to…?”
    “Did I say that? I didn’t say that.”
    “Well, good, because Mouse would never…”
    “I know that.”
    “Let me finish. He would never, ever, accuse me of…” She felt close to tears, so she collected herself. “He knows what I’m doing and why I’m doing it, and he wishes me well. I’m glad he’s going to miss me, if that’s what he told you, because I’m going to miss him too. But that’s what happens, Brian. Life just sort of does this sometimes.”
    He looked at her blankly and said: “Your life.”
    “Yes. O.K. My life. Whatever. Just don’t accuse me of running away from…his illness.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “I would be back in a second if…”
    “You can’t. How could you?”
    She hated thinking about this. He knew it too. Michael was his last card, and he was determined to play it. “This is the lowest, Brian. If Michael knew you were using him to…”
    “Talk to him. That’s all I’m saying.”
    “No it isn’t. You’re laying this big guilt trip on me.”
    “I can’t help how you take it.”
    “You don’t know what goes on between me and Mouse. You don’t know how much we understand each other.”
    He gave her a dim, mournful smile. “No,” he said, “I guess not.”
    She could see the effect this had and tried to undo it. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
    “Just call him, O.K.?”
    “Sure.”
    He rose.
    “Don’t go yet,” she said.
    He smiled faintly. “I’m getting my shirts.”
    She stood by the window and stared out at the bay. He was back in less than a minute, his laundry flung over his shoulder like a cavalier’s cape.
    “You could sleep on the couch,” she said, “if the bed bothers you.”
    He leaned over and pecked her on the top of her head. “That’s O.K.”
    At the door, for some stupid reason, she touched his arm and said, “Drive carefully.”

Another Letter to Mama
Dear Mama,
When you were talking about Papa’s headstone the other day I noticed you mentioned there was room at the plot for the entire family.
No. Awkward. Start again.
Dear Mama,
It was wonderful talking to you the other day. Thack says you and I should talk more, and I guess he’s right, since it always makes me feel better.
Stop lying and get to the point.
Dear Mama,
I’m glad we talked the other day. There was something you mentioned, though, that concerned me. You seemed to think that someday the whole family would be buried at the cemetery there. I know how you meant this, but frankly, the idea of Christian burial strikes me as unnecessary and a little ghoulish.
Real subtle, Tolliver.
Keep writing. You can change it later.
I don’t know how much time I have left—whether it’s two years or five or fifty—but I don’t want to be taken back to Orlando when it’s over. This is my home now, and