Sure of You by Armistead Maupin

many liberal causes that he sort of burned out.”
    Michael saw Brian’s expression and knew what he was thinking: Why does she always have to say that? Wouldn’t a waiter have been enough?
    Brian locked eyes with his wife, plastered a sickly smile on his face, and returned his attention to Thack’s bourbon.
    “And now you guys are nurserymen.” Still a little over-jovial, Burke looked first at Michael, then at Brian.
    “Right,” Michael answered.
    “You need water…soda?” Brian was talking to Thack now.
    “On the rocks is fine.”
    “You got it,” said Brian.
    “We’ve been partners for three years,” Michael told Burke.
    “That’s great.”
    “Here you go, sport.” Brian handed Michael a Calistoga on the rocks. Michael and Thack went to the big curving couch and sat down in the space between Mary Ann and Burke.
    Mary Ann reached over and gave Michael’s knee a shake. “I can’t get over how good you look.”
    Michael smiled and nodded and said: “I feel good.”
    “Hey,” said Burke. “You know who I was thinking about today?”
    “Who?” Mary Ann turned, letting go of Michael’s knee.
    “Our old landlady. Mrs. Thingamabob.”
    “Madrigal,” said Michael. “Shit!”
    Mary Ann frowned. “What?”
    Flooded with guilt, Michael looked at Thack. “We were gonna call her. You were gonna remind me.”
    “Oh, hell,” said his lover.
    Brian settled into the big white leather chair across from the sofa. “You can use the phone in the bedroom if…”
    “No,” said Michael. “It’s too late.”
    “She went to Lesbos,” Thack explained.
    Burke laughed. “Sounds like her.”
    “ Damn it,” muttered Michael.
    Mary Ann looked lost. “Why on earth did she go to Lesbos?”
    “Because it’s there,” said Burke, laughing.
    “She’s meeting Mona there,” said Michael. “Her daughter.”
    “Damn,” said Burke. “I remember her. Frizzy red hair, right?”
    “That’s her,” said Michael.
    “Didn’t you use to go out with her?” Burke was addressing Brian now.
    “Once or twice,” said Brian.
    “She became a lesbian,” said Mary Ann.
    There was an awkward silence before Brian told Burke: “The two events were not related.”
    This got an awkward chuckle.
    Michael felt compelled to speak up on Mona’s behalf. “She was a lesbian long before she met Brian.”
    “Thank you,” said Brian.
    Mary Ann looked at her husband. “I wasn’t impugning your prowess, for God’s sake.”
    “Sorry.” Burke laughed, obviously thinking he had opened a touchy subject.
    “No,” said Mary Ann, laughing to reassure him. “Really.”
    “Where is she now?” asked Burke.
    “In England,” said Mary Ann. “She married a lord and lives in this huge house in the Cotswolds.”
    “Does the lord know she’s a lesbian?”
    “Oh, sure,” Michael told him. “He’s gay himself. They don’t live together. He lives here. He drives a cab for Veterans.”
    “Well,” said Burke. “Thanks for clearing that up.”
    As everyone laughed, Michael marveled at the apparent ease with which the four old housemates had reunited. Then, in a fleeting moment of self-torment, he pictured poor Mrs. Madrigal sitting alone amid her carpetbags in some fly-specked Grecian airport without benefit of his bon voyage.
     
    They were seated at the big green glass dining table when Michael realized who was missing.
    “Hey, where’s Shawna?”
    “In her room,” said Mary Ann.
    Brian glanced at his wife, then spoke to Michael: “She’s playing with her new Nintendo game.”
    “Ah.” Michael nodded.
    “She’s not very good around new grownups,” said Mary Ann.
    “She was fine,” said Burke. “Really.”
    Brian looked faintly apologetic. “Sometimes it takes her a while,” he told Burke.
    “No problem,” said Burke. “Really.”
    Michael and Thack communicated briefly with their eyes. Had Shawna been antisocial? Had she thrown a tantrum and been banished to her room?
    When the maid appeared with a tray