Babycakes (13 page)

“Come in.”

He was leaning over his sofa, arranging clothes in a suitcase. “Hi, Babycakes.”

“Hi. Somebody left this at the front door.” She laid the envelope on a chair.

He glanced at it, still packing, “Must be Ned’s bon voyage package. He said he was dropping something by.”

“Ah.”

“Sit down,” he said. “Talk to me.”

She sat down, noticing another suitcase on the floor. “You’re taking an awful lot for a month, aren’t you?”

“Just this bag,” he answered.

“What about that one?” She pointed to the suitcase on the floor.

“Oh.” He grinned. “That’s Simon’s. He left it here a little while ago. He’s having dinner down at Washington Square.”

“I see.”

He gave her an impish sideways glance. “Why didn’t you tell me what a hunk he is?”

She shrugged, commanding herself not to blush. “You didn’t ask.”

“I was expecting one of those horse-faced dudes with big ears and crooked teeth. This guy looks like a skinnier version of Brian.”

“You think so?”

“Now, don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.”

“No,” she replied. “Not really.”

“Well, look again, woman.”

“Are those jeans new?” she asked.

“These?” He held up the pair he was packing. “I got them today.”

“They look black.”

“They
are.
black. All the rage. See?” He pretended to model them. “The Widow Fielding Goes to London.”

She giggled. “You are the worst.”

“Well … I figure they haven’t got them there yet. I might be able to barter with them in an emergency.”

“Sell your pants, you mean?”

“Sure.” He folded the Levi’s and placed them in the suitcase. “I remember when American kids used to pay their way across Europe that way.”

“Ages
ago, Mouse.”

“Well …”

“When were you last in London?”

“Uh … late sixties.”

“Late?”

“Nineteen sixty-seven.”

“Right,” she said. “And they called it Swinging London,”

“O.K.”

“And Twiggy was around.”

He pretended to be shocked. “Twiggy is
still
around, and don’t you forget it!”

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen,” he replied. “It was sixteen years ago, and I was sixteen. Half my life ago.” He turned and smiled at her. “I came out there, too.”

“You
did?
You never told me that.”

“Well … had my first sex, anyway.”

“Whatever,” she said.

“Does Brian get along well with Simon?” he asked.

“Wait a minute. I thought we were talking about London.”

He patted a side pocket of the suitcase. “I already have my instructions.”

“What?”

“Simon left a small tome about the operation of his apartment.”

“Have you looked at it yet?” she asked.

“Nope. Don’t want to. I want it to be a complete surprise.”

That made sense to her.

“Well?” he asked. “Do they?”

“What?”

“Get along well together.”

“Mouse … what is this?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. They seem to like each other. They both have the hots for Theresa Cross.”

Michael made a face. “Brian told you that?”

“He doesn’t have to. I know how he is. He’s got a sleazy streak in him a mile wide.”

He grinned at some private movie. “Yeah … that figures. Any man who would make you wear leg warmers during sex …”

“Mouse …”

His languid grin remained.

“I should never have told you that. I knew you’d throw it back at me. Besides … he doesn’t make me do it. I do it of my own accord.”

He nodded solemnly. “I admire a woman who takes responsibility for her own sleaziness.”

“That’s the
last
juicy tidbit you get from me.”

“Juicy tidbit? You told me it was a transcendental experience. You said it made you feel like one of the girls from
Fame.”

She stomped into his kitchen. “I’m pouring myself some wine.”

“Help yourself,” he hollered back. “Pour me some, too.”

She stood there for a moment in the light of his refrigerator, enjoying the afterglow of his teasing. She had loved this sentimental, funny, adorable man longer than she had loved Brian even, and it warmed her heart to realize they were getting back to normal again. Returning with two glasses of wine, she handed one to him and asked: “Aren’t you going to open your package?”

He looked confused.

“The one from Ned,” she added, pointing to it. She couldn’t stand it when people didn’t open things
immediately.

“Oh.” He set his wine down and reached for the envelope, tearing off the end. “And the winner
is
…” He peered down into it. then pulled out a note written on a card with a naked fireman on the front. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. I’ll miss you. Your buddy, Ned.’ ”

“That’s sweet,” she said.

He nodded, with a little smile.

“That’s not all, is it?”

Another nod.

“Mouse … there’s something in there.”

“There is, huh?”

“I felt it moving around.” She took the envelope from him and shook it over the sofa. Five foil-wrapped rubbers fell out. “Oops,” she said.

Mouse just grinned at her. He didn’t look particularly upset. “It’s Ned’s way of saying … you know … be careful and have a good time.” He scooped them up in both hands. “Here … from me to you.”

“What?” She was sure she was scarlet.

“C’mon. Take ’em. I’m celibate. You guys can use them more than I can.”

“Uh … Mouse. Thanks just the same, O.K.?”

He looked at her for a moment, then dropped the rubbers back into the envelope. “Hooked on the pill, huh?”

She picked up her wine and downed it.

He sipped his slowly, peering at her over the rim. “Do I still get that ride to the airport?”

“Sure. You bet. What time?”

“Well … I guess we should leave no later than three-thirty. Just to be sure.”

“Great.” She pecked him on the cheek. “See you then.”

When she got back to her own apartment, she found Brian washing the breakfast dishes. She leaned into his back and kissed his neck. “Mouse is so excited,” she said.

“I don’t blame him,” he replied.

“Maybe we should do the same.”

He dried his hands on a towel and turned around. “Go to London?”

She smiled at him. “Get out of town, at least.”

“All right. Our savings account should get us as far as, say, Oakland.”

She touched the tip of his nose.
“Exactly
what I had in mind.”

“Oakland?”

“Sure. A weekend for two at the Claremont. All expenses paid.”

“How come?”

She looked as cavalier as possible. “No reason.”

“No. I meant: how come all expenses are paid?”

“Oh. I did a feature on them last month. It’s a freebie.”

“Not bad.”

“I know. Jacuzzi, sauna … baking by the pool. Nothing to pack but swimming suits and something for the dining room.”

“And leg warmers.”

“And leg warmers,” she echoed.
“Sold!
To the gentleman with the hard-on.”

Pumping the Lieutenant

W
HEN SHE. RETURNED FROM THE AIRPORT THE
next day, she found Simon sitting on the bench in the courtyard. He gave her a jaunty little wave as she passed through the lych-gate. “You look like you belong there,” she-said.

He smiled at her. “It certainly feels that way.”

“Well …” She made a graceless gesture in the general direction of Daly City. “Mouse is off in the wild blue yonder.” It sounded as lame as the gesture must have looked.

Simon pointed to the brass plaque in the garden. “Is this his lover?”

She nodded.

“His ashes?”

Another nod.

He shook his head slowly. “No wonder he wanted to get away.”

She couldn’t bear to think about Jon just now. “Simon … let me know if I can … you know … help with anything.”

“Thank you,” he said. “You’ve been a great help already.”

“Well, hey … no problem …” She was
backing
toward the door, she realized, like some awkward teenager.

“Do you have a moment?” he asked, leaning toward her slightly.

“Sure.”

“Wonderful. Come sit, then.”

She joined him on the bench. “You’re lucky,” she said. “You’re getting some of our sunshine. The poor Queen missed it completely.”

He gave her a lazy smile. “I’m sure this irony isn’t lost on Her Majesty.”

She laughed uneasily. What did he mean by
that?
That the Queen had personal knowledge of his escapade? That she was envious of irresponsibility? “Is the Queen a nice person?” she asked.

A deep chuckle. “The Queen is a lovely person.”

“Have you ever actually talked to her?”

“Oh … four or five times at the most.”

“She doesn’t seem to smile very much.”

He shrugged. “Smiling is her job. When smiling is one’s job, one is very circumspect about the way one doles it out. Otherwise, it means nothing.”

“That’s very well put,” she said.

Another half-lidded smile. “It’s our regulation answer.”

“Do you have to be … like … a lord or something to be an officer on the
Britannia?”
“Not at all.”

“Are you, though?”

His laughter was hearty but not malicious. “You Americans just jump right in there, don’t you?”

She was enough of a Californian to resent being called an American. “Well, I think it’s only natural to wonder if …” Her search for the right words proved futile. She
was
pumping him, and it showed.

Simon leaped gallantly into the silence. “The only titled member of my immediate family is my aunt, my mother’s sister, a grotty old duchess by marriage who wears waders and messes about in boats.”

“The Queen does that,” she put in.

“Not with
this
duchess, I assure you.”

She laughed without knowing exactly why. “And your mother and father?”

“They’re both dead,” he replied evenly.

“Oh, I’m …”

“My mother was an actress in the West End. My father was a barrister who moved from Leeds to London after he met my mother. What about yours?”

She was thrown for an instant. “Oh … well, my father runs an electrical shop, and my mother is a housewife. They live in Cleveland.” She reminded herself of a contestant on
Family Feud.

“Cleveland … Indiana, is it?”

“Ohio.”

He nodded. “They must be very proud of you.”

“I guess they are,” she said. “They don’t see me on TV, of course, since I’m … you know … local. But I send them copies of
TV Guide
when I’m in it. That sort of thing. Your parents must’ve been young when they died.”

“Mmm. Very. I was still at Cambridge.” He anticipated her next question, looking faintly amused by her curiosity. “It was an automobile accident. On the M-One. Do you know the M-One?”

“A highway, right?”

“Right.”

“Was your mother a good actress?”

He seemed to like that question. “As a matter of fact, I’ve wondered about that lately. I thought she was marvelous at the time. She was funny, And very beautiful.”

“That makes sense,” she said.

He passed over the ambiguous compliment. “When I was fourteen, she introduced me to Diana Rigg backstage at the Haymarket. I thought that was the loveliest thing any mother could do for her son.”

“I can see how you would,” she smiled.