The Days of Anna Madrigal by Armistead Maupin Read Free Book Online Page A

. . . falls into. It’s not a good thing.”
    There was so much about this explanation that Michael found charming, but he went for the obvious: “ No offense ? Like I don’t know I’m fatter than you are?”
    Ben chuckled. “Well, yeah, of course you do, but . . . I didn’t know if you were aware of—”
    â€œThe Trench,” said Michael, capitalizing it for extra drama.
    â€œYes.” Ben grinned. “The Trench from Hell.”
    â€œDamn. That bad?”
    â€œPretty much.”
    Roman, their Labradoodle, loped into the room and sprang onto the bed between them. He knew their nightly routine as well as they did, maybe even better. Michael scratched him behind his ear, where dense charcoal hair, despite their best efforts at grooming, was clumped like an old fisherman’s sweater.
    â€œYou don’t feel a trench, do you, Mr. Dood?”
    â€œGive Dad a kiss,” Ben told the dog.
    Still standing on the bed, Roman accepted this assignment with quiet resignation, dragging a broad pink tongue across Michael’s ear. How and when Ben had taught him this trick was lost in the mists of time, but it still retained its charm. Roman knew exactly who “Dad” was (at least in this instance), and he’d been known to bestir himself from a comfortable chair across the room, stopping only for a downward-facing fart, before planting a single perfunctory kiss on Michael’s face.
    â€œWe can’t afford a new mattress,” said Michael.
    â€œI know,” said Ben.
    Of course he knew. Ben was the one keeping them afloat, the one who had stalled foreclosure on their mountain property in Pinyon City and footed the bill on Michael’s recent dental implant. Ben’s furniture company, thanks to a lone Twitter executive with a passion for tansus was their most reliable source of income. Michael’s gardening business wasn’t exactly belly-up, but it wasn’t thriving either. His younger partner Jake Greenleaf had done most of the grunt work lately. Gardeners aged better than athletes, but their bodies betrayed them the same.
    â€œCan you handle the trench a bit longer?” Michael asked.
    Ben smiled sleepily and pecked him on the mouth. “Long as it takes, bambino.” He pushed his foot through the sheets, across the very trench itself, twiddling his toes against Michael’s in an act of reassuring monkey-love.
    â€œI’ll lay off the jam in the morning,” Michael told him.
    Ben chuckled, then fell silent until he suddenly remembered something. “Oh—did you get the message from Shawna?”
    â€œNo. On the machine?” Lately, like everyone else he knew, Michael had lost the habit of checking the landline. “What did she want?”
    â€œDunno. Just said to call her. I figured it was about Burning Man.”
    This didn’t seem very likely to Michael. “Why would she call me? You’re the boss of that.”
    â€œIs that right?”
    â€œI didn’t mean it like that. We’re in this together. I just—”
    â€œWhatever.” Ben was obviously hurt, but his fallen features stopped short of a pout.
    Michael felt awful. Ben had wanted this to be a communal effort, a grand adventure that would change their lives forever, but Michael’s careless words had divorced him from the effort. There were times, he felt, when he didn’t deserve this man at all.
    â€œDon’t listen to me,” he said, apologizing with his toes. “I’m just a darkwad.”

Chapter 5
    HOME FREE
    T here was a restaurant near Anna’s apartment in the Duboce Triangle, so Brian took Wren there before their visit. It was a corner place with a French staff, a bistro with an alchemical blend of silk lampshades and dark red walls. They looked out on lush summer sycamores turned rusty under the streetlights.
    â€œSeems like her kind of place,” Wren observed, popping a