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“If you want to be sarcastic, tiger, you gotta be witty too. You almost have the tone now, but you ain’t got the funny yet.”

Little White thought this was hilarious. She clapped her hands delightedly. Elvis put a finger out, touched him on the arm, and, pretending to be burned, made a hissing sound and whipped his hand back fast.

“Guess he burned your ass, Linco.”

“I guess you better kiss my ass, Elvo. Come on, we’re outta here.”

They trooped out in their seven-league Gestapo boots and I’d guess it was my son who slammed the door and then gave it a loud kick for good measure.

“How come you and Lincoln always fight, Daddy?”

“Because I think he should do certain things but he thinks he shouldn’t. Come on, it’s your move.”

Seven o’clock rolled around with no sign of him. I waited another half hour before going to dinner. I tried to be as calm and good-natured as I could with Greer, while at the same time figuring out what to do with her brother. Getting into his room was no problem—a week after he put the lock on his door, I had a locksmith come in and make me a copy of the key. What I’d told Mary was true—I had been in his room only once since the lock was installed, but I’d also stopped trusting our son long ago and felt the secret key necessary. No one knew I had it, not even Lily.

Crowds and Power was packed with pretties when we arrived. In the years since Lily and I met, it had become one of the “power” spots in Los Angeles for people to meet and be seen. Articles were written about it in trendy magazines, the parking lot was invariably full of the appropriate German, English, and Italian cars with license plates that said things like “L.A. Gent,” and getting a table reservation was tough if you were not important. Ibrahim and Gus were still together despite their never-ending bickers, yet I liked them less because of how they had changed with their success. On the one hand, they worked too hard to be cool. On the other, both were overtly sycophantic. This showed in the way they dealt with their increasingly famous clientele. If you were someone, a table was always ready. If you weren’t, you might be allowed to sit in the back near the kitchen. The no-man’s-land Gus called “Table Hell.” There was little of the original warmth and happy frenzy that had been such a precious trademark of the place when I’d first known it. A few years back there had been a palace revolt because of this elemental change of heart. The Band sisters and Mabdean Kessack quit because none of them liked how elitist and false their bosses had become. In a move that troubled Lily because it erased most of what was left of the original “feel” of the restaurant, Ibrahim replaced the women with a gay couple named Ace and Berndt who were both very swish and snobbish but efficient.

“Hi, guys. Where’s Lincoln?” Lily had an armful of menus, and her hair, which had grown much longer, was sticking out in all directions. We kissed, then she bent over and traded big ones with Greer.

“He’s with his friends. He might show up later.”

She gave me her “Is this what I think?” look and I nodded. She grimaced and sighed. “He used to love coming here so much, remember? We had fun. Remember how Mabdean used to make him that special pizza?”

“And his birthday party with the snakes?”

“Golden days at Crowds and Power. How I wish it was like that now. Are you hungry?”

One of the waiters came up and, with the slightest head tip of recognition to us, started talking to Lily in an urgent whisper.

“Just tell her it’s not on the menu, Berndt. I don’t understand the problem.”

Offended, he looked at her as if she’d asked if he had farted. “The problem is, I did tell her that, but she insisted we make it for her because we served it before.”

“Too bad. She can eat what’s on the menu, like everyone else.”

“Gus might be upset if he hears you said no. He loves this woman’s show.”

“I’ll worry about that. Please do as I told you.”

Flashing a bitchy little smile, he walked off. Lily scratched her chin. “I miss Sullivan and Alberta at least ten times a day, every day. Things used to be so much more merry around here. Once upon a time, we would have made that actress what she wants because we’d have been so excited to have her here. Not no more.”

“Mom, can we eat now?”

“Yes, love. Let’s find a table.” Leading us through the packed room, Lily turned and asked, “Where is His Majesty?”

“Last I saw, he was shuffling off to places unknown with Mickey and Minnie. We had a face-off at the door and I told him to stop being such a wise guy.”

“I’m sure he loved that. Here, let’s sit here. Did you embarrass him in front of his friends? You know how he hates that.”

“He hates most things. That’s the problem.”

“Sometimes he hates you, Daddy.”

“I know, but that can happen when you have two guys butting heads like we do. You know the way we disagree about things.”

“What did you tell him to set him off?”

“To be home at a specific time so we could go to dinner. He said he wasn’t hungry, I said be home. That was the extent of our discussion. Looks like he decided not to join us after all.”

“Mom, Lincoln had his ‘fuck’ shirt on.”

“Thank you for telling me, Greer, but you know the only reason you told me was so you could say the word. Don’t think you’re tricking me.”

“Lil, I had a couple of ideas for the strip coming over. I’d like to leave right after dinner to go back and work on them. You’ve got early shift tonight, right? Can Miss Muffet go home with you?”

“Sure. We’ll have to stop at the market first, but you don’t mind staying up past your bedtime a little, do you?”

Sounding out words on the menu to herself, Greer shook her head.

“You look great tonight. That long hair really suits you.”

“Oh, Max, does it? Thanks. I think I look like a hundred years old today.”

“No, you look great. You’re one of those people who get better-looking as they grow older. I’m very lucky to have you, know that?”

We often complimented each other. I didn’t know a happier couple. Neither how she had stolen Lincoln nor what had become of him could affect the fact that we loved each other more and more as the years passed.

“Thank you. You’re a good guy to say it.”

“It’s the truth. What are we having for dinner?”

Although it was a good family meal with lots of talk, gestures, and laughing, both Lily and I kept scanning the room to see if the boy had arrived. Sometimes our looks crossed and one or the other would raise an eyebrow as if to say, “What can we do? The kid isn’t coming.”

But he surprised us.

“Max, I was trying to tell someone today how many newspapers run ‘Paper Clip.’ Isn’t it around three hundred?”

“Yes, a few more, but that’s good enough.”

Hi, Mom.

“Lincoln! Hi! Come, sit down.”

“Hi, Lincoln. Wanna sit next to me?”

“Hi, Grrrr-eer. Naah, I want to sit next to Dad. Right in the heart of the old fam.”

The chair to my right slid out noisily. Sitting down, he slapped me on the shoulder. “How’re you doin’, Max? How’s the old provider hanging?”

“Do you want something to eat?”

“I said before I wasn’t hungry. I only came by to see you guys.” Patting out a beat on the table, he started singing a song about “raising my fam-uh-ly.” We watched and waited but he didn’t stop. He sang louder. People at other tables started staring and gave him a long once-over. He sang on while we three went back to our dessert.

Greer said she had to go to the toilet and Lily took her.

Lincoln smiled at me. “Hey, Max, what’s the difference between a refrigerator and a homosexual?” He said it too loudly, wanting people to hear.

“I guess you’re going to tell me.”

“A refrigerator doesn’t fart when you take your meat out.”

A woman at the table next to ours shook her head and said, “Jesus Christ, crude!”