“Fine,” replied Edgar. “I'll see you then.”
He hung up the phone and shook his head. So he would be subjected to naked women pole dancers for an hour or so. If Miller could help them it would be worth it. Edgar replaced the file in its drawer, locked it, and put the key back in its hiding spot in the dictionary.
Now all he had to do was come up with a good story to keep Jack from worrying and everything would be fine.
* * * *
“What do you mean you're meeting with your editor?” asked Jack, his eyes narrowed.
“I'm meeting with my editor,” repeated Edgar, holding up his attache case as proof.
“Since when don't you work by e-mail?”
Edgar sighed. He had been so sure that his excuse would placate his partner that he had waited until the next morning to spring the news on him. He could see by the look on Jack's face that it had been an unwise decision.
“Jack, sometimes it's nice to get out of the house,” he pleaded. “Don't worry. . . I'll be back this evening.”
“Eddy,” said Jack, his voice serious, “what are you really doing in San Francisco?”
“Jack. . .”
“You're going to look at apartments, aren't you?”
Shit, thought Edgar. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
How the fuck was he going to talk his way out of that one? Edgar hung his head knowing that his only hope at that point was to be honest.
“Jack,” he said, his voice tired, “I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry. . .”
“So, you are going to be looking at apartments?” asked Jack, his voice rising, “after our conversation yesterday? I don't understand you sometimes. . .”
“Jack!” interrupted Edgar.
Jack stopped in mid-sentence and looked at his partner.
“I'm not going to look at apartments,” Edgar continued, “I'm going to meet an old work contact about this whole Converse thing. This is about protecting us, and our home. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry.”
Jack was silent for a moment as he digested this new information. When he finally did speak his voice was nearly a whisper.
“Worry?” he asked. “Eddy. . . are you in danger?”
Edgar laughed.
“This guy I'm going to meet is a criminal, but I trust him,” he said. “So, no, not really.”
“Then let me come with you,” replied Jack.
“You're going to stay here and keep an eye on Eldon Court,” said Edgar. “And don't let anyone in if you don't recognize them.”
Jack momentarily looked like a scolded child but quickly regained his composure. Of course Edgar would tell him no. He had kicked into “take charge mode” and wasn't that what Jack had asked him to do in the first place? Jack kissed Edgar's cheek.
“Be careful,” he said.
“I will,” replied Edgar. “And don't worry. . . everything will be fine.”
Edgar once again reminded Jack to lock the door behind him and the two men kissed goodbye.
“See you this evening.”
* * * *
The drive up the coast from Wonderland to San Francisco was pleasant, despite the reason for it. For the first time in days the sky was unhindered by clouds and the sun glinted on the cresting waves of the ocean far below the highway. The fresh sea air kissed Edgar's cheeks and filled his nose with its heady, pungent scent and Edgar sang along with a song on the radio. Oh, how he looked forward to being back in San Francisco! Of course he would do everything in his power to thwart Converse's attempted land grab, if only for Jack, but he secretly just wanted it to all be over with. Then, maybe just then, he and Jack could move back to the city where they belonged and far from the amateur hour of gay relationships that Eldon Court had devolved into.
Edgar followed the Pacific Coast Highway up through Pacifica, Broadmoor and Lake Merced. He knew that, in order to get to North Beach on the far side of the city, it would have been more advantageous to take highway 280. But, since he had plenty of time before he was to meet Miller, Edgar decided to drive along the Great Highway, with Ocean Beach and the Pacific to his left and Golden Gate Park and the zoo to his right. Although it was still early in the day, swimmers, runners, simple pedestrians and people walking their dogs thronged the shoreline, relishing in the first sunny day in weeks. Edgar smiled at them as he passed, wishing that he could be down there with them on the beach. Nevertheless, he pressed on, determined to keep his word to Jack. As the Great Highway continued north it rose, and Edgar could see Seal Rock looming in the distance to his left, and the Cliff House just past that. As he passed the Cliff House, the road curved and was no longer the Great Highway, turning instead into Geary Boulevard and sending Edgar east, in the direction of downtown San Francisco. After a few blocks on Geary the traffic became heavier and pedestrians more numerous, a welcome sign that he was, indeed, back in the city. Edgar passed Japantown and, at Franklin, took a left in the direction of North Beach. Passing the grand apartment buildings along the way, their brass railings polished to a shiny luminescence, the car climbed the hilly terrain and he turned again, this time taking a right onto Broadway. Here the city was fully alive, the streets packed with city buses, tour buses and myriad forms of transportation. Delivery trucks blocked the outer lanes, their hazard lights flashing to announce that they were stopped to unload their deliveries. Bike messengers darted in and out of traffic like suicidal maniacs as Edgar passed Van Ness and Polk Street before entering the Broadway tunnel. On the other side of the tunnel, at the intersection of Chinatown and North Beach, Edgar turned left, at Powell Street, deciding that it would be
