Babycakes Read Online Free PDF Page B

water like a drenched dog. “The car is forming its own ecosystem.” He peered uneasily out the window, beyond which the primroses had dissolved into an impressionistic blur. “Jesus. We’d better get a tarp or something.”
“What for?” Ned remained in repose.
“Those bedding plants. They’re getting beat all to hell.”
His partner smiled stoically. “Have you checked the books lately? There isn’t exactly a major demand for primroses.”
He was right, of course. The rain had played hell with business. “Just the same, don’t you think …?”
“Fuck it,” said Ned. “Let’s hang it up.”
“What?”
“Let’s close for a month. It won’t hurt us. It can’t be any worse than this.”
Michael sat down, staring at him. “And do what?”
“Well … how about a trip to Death Valley?”
“Right.”
“I’m serious.”
“Ned … Death Valley?”
“Have you ever been there? It’s a fucking paradise. We could get six or eight guys, camp out, do some mushrooms. The wildflowers will be incredible after this rain.”
He was less than thrilled. “How about during?”
“We’ll have tents, pussy. C’mon … just for a weekend.”
Michael could never have explained his panic at the prospect of unlimited leisure. He needed a routine right now, a predictable rut. The last thing he wanted was time to think.
Ned tried another approach. “I won’t try to fix you up. It’ll just be a group of guys.”
He couldn’t help smiling. Ned was always trying to fix him up. “Thanks anyway. You go ahead. I’ll hold down the fort. I’ll be glad to. Really.”
Ned regarded him for a moment, then sprang to his feet and began rearranging the seed packets in the revolving rack. It struck Michael as a defensive gesture. “Are you pissed?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“It just isn’t there right now, Ned.”
His partner slopped fiddling. “If you ask me … a good jack-off buddy would do you a world of good.”
“Ned …”
“O.K. All right. Forget it. I’ve done my Dolly Levi for the day.”
“Good.”
“I’m going, though. If you want to stay here and watch the roots rot, that’s O.K. by me.”
“Fine.”
They had little to say to each other for the next hour as they busied themselves with minor maintenance chores, things that didn’t get done when customers were there. After Ned had finished stacking pallets in the shed, he stepped into the office again and confronted Michael at the desk. “I wanted your company, you know. I didn’t do it to be nice.”
“I know.” He looked up and smiled.
Ned tousled his hair, then reached for his flight jacket. “I’ll be at home, if you change your mind. Go home, at least. There’s no point in hanging around here.”
He did go home eventually, and he spent the rest of the afternoon sorting laundry and cleaning his refrigerator. He was searching for another project when Mrs. Madrigal phoned just before five o’clock.
“Are you free for dinner, I hope?”
“So far,” he said.
“Marvelous. I’ve found a festive new place for Mexican food. I want us all to go. We haven’t had a family outing in ages.”
He accepted, wondering if this adventure was being organized specifically for his benefit. His friends were awfully solicitous these days and he often felt enormous pressure to be visibly happy in their presence. The reborn joy they sought in his eyes was something he would never be able to fake.
Mrs. Madrigal’s Mexican discovery turned out to be a cavernous room at the end of an alleyway near the Moscone Center. For reasons that no one could explain, it was called the Cadillac Bar. Its kitschy Lupe Velez ambience met with everyone’s approval, and they guzzled margaritas like conventioneers on a three-day binge in Acapulco.
Maybe it was the liquor, but something about Mary Ann’s demeanor seemed curiously artificial to Michael. She hung on Brian’s arm throughout much of the meal, laughing a little too loudly at his jokes, gazing rapturously into his eyes,