Tales of the City 05 - Significant Others by Armistead Maupin Read Free Book Online Page B

our thirties when we married.”
    “Wow,” said Jed, as if he were digesting an entry from the Guinness Book of World Records.
    Brian took the offensive, intent upon liberating the kid. “I enjoyed my time as a bachelor. It taught me a helluva lot about myself and the world. I think I’m a better husband because of it.”
    “Yeah,” said Jed, “but wasn’t life kind of … empty?”
    “No. Hell, no.” This wasn’t entirely true, but he hated the kid’s priggish tone. “I was an independent man. Sex helped make me that way.”
    Confronted with this hopelessly old-fashioned concept, Jed smiled indulgently.
    “It’s the truth,” said Brian. “Didn’t you feel more … in charge of yourself the first time you got it on with a girl?”
    The kid tugged at the cuff of his sweater. “There weren’t any girls before Cissie.”
    “O.K., then … the first time you got it on with Cissie.”
    Silence.
    Brian studied his nephew’s face, where the awful truth was blooming like acne. “Hell, I’m sorry … I didn’t … I mean, lots of guys …”
    Jed greeted his stammering with another faint smile, more smug than the last. “It’s a matter of choice, Brian.”
    “Oh … well …”
    “We don’t believe in premarital sex. Neither one of us.”
    Premarital sex? He couldn’t recall having heard that term since the early sixties, when it ceased to be a racy topic for high school debate teams. Who was this Cissie bitch, anyway? What gave her the right to pussywhip this innocent kid into a life of marital servitude?
    “Jed … listen, man … maybe it’s none of my business, but I think you’re making a serious mistake. A little experimentation never hurt anybody. You owe that to yourself, kiddo. How can you be sure about Cissie if …”
    “I’m sure, Brian. All right?”
    Brian shook his head. “There’s no way. You’re too young. You haven’t lived enough.”
    “I’m not interested in one-night stands,” said Jed.
    “You’re scared,” Brian countered, “and that’s cool. Everybody’s first time is …”
    “Things are different now, Brian. It’s not the way it was with your generation.”
    Or with your mother’s, thought Brian. Sunny had had four lovers and an abortion before she got around to having Jed. How could life have changed so radically in twenty years? “Some things still apply,” he told his nephew, hoping to God it was true.
    Jed rose and dumped the pizza box into a Hefty bag in the corner. “I’ve had a long day, Brian.” It was clearly a signal for the meddling uncle to leave.
    “Yeah,” said Brian. “Right.” He stood up and went to the door. “I’m up at The Summit if you need a tour guide or anything. Mrs. Madrigal says she’ll be glad to answer any questions about the neighborhood.”
    “Forget that,” said Jed. “She’s too weird.”
    Brian didn’t bother to reprimand him. Why waste his breath on this tight-assed little bastard?
    Ten minutes later, back at The Summit, Mary Ann asked him how dinner had been.
    “The pits,” he replied.
    “Well, I hope you were nice to him.”
    He gave her a peevish glance. “I was nice to him. He was the one who wasn’t nice to me.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I dunno,” he said. “Just rude and uptight.” He saw no point in mentioning the virginity part. Mary Ann, no doubt, would find it “sweet.”
    “He’s young,” she said, stacking her dishes in the dishwasher.
    Her phony generosity annoyed him. “You want me to invite him over?”
    “No,” she replied demurely. “Not if you think he’s … difficult.”
    “Save your platitudes, then. The kid is an asshole.”
    She closed the dishwasher and looked at him. “What is your problem, Brian?”
    A damn good question. He felt headachy still, and his gut had begun to seize up in a peculiar way. Was this weird fatigue a function of the flu? Or merely a function of being forty-two? Was that what made him so resentful of Jed’s unspent youth?
    “I’m