These Dreams of You

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Zan would like to note that Viv has been calling the girl Sheba too but decides it’s best to accept the full brunt of the accusation. “It’s a cool name,” he says. “She can be a rocker with that name.”

“Or a stripper,” Viv retorts. For a while they don’t say anything. Zan gets up and crosses the lobby to the television. On the cable news, a black man argues against the new president’s foreign policy; he looks unhappy, sour, and Zan isn’t sure he would have recognized him — certainly given the political viewpoint he now expresses — if he weren’t identified at the bottom of the screen where it reads RONALD J. FLOWERS and, beneath that, “Los Angeles Director, Civic Organizers Network.” Zan listens for a while and returns to his seat next to Viv. “Ever tell you my Ronnie Jack Flowers story?” he says.

“Yes. It’s why you don’t write novels anymore — I’ve heard it.” She says, “Sorry. That came out crabbier than I intended.”

After a moment Zan says, “You can’t hold yourself responsible for everything.” He means to offer it as, in part, a rapprochement.

“That story’s about you,” she answers, “not me.”