Free Equal Affections by David Leavitt Page A

the dim sum houses, where women in white uniforms rolled carts down the aisles between the tables, shouting out the namesof various steamed and fried dumplings, thick rice soups, sweet buns. “You know why there are no windows in dim sum restaurants?” he asked as he caught the warm smell of steam from an approaching cart. “Because you pay by the plate. If there were windows, people would throw the plates out the windows to save money.”
    â€œDanny,” April said, “this is the tenth time you’ve told me that story. Remember the interest scale.” He looked away, bit into something ambrosial wrapped in rice noodle dough. A perfect afternoon, other than that remark, an afternoon of thanks and love and goodness, offered by his sister to him in repayment for . . . services rendered? And yet, as was usual with April, things were not as they seemed, which in no way meant her intentions were less than honorable, her love for him less “than genuine, only that there was a small other matter, something she needed help with, and she had hoped he wouldn’t mind. And presently a pale-skinned man in a pressed white shirt and tortoiseshell glasses ambled down the aisle and asked if she was April and, when she said she was, shook her hand and sat down. The man looked at Danny next, somewhat confusedly, until April said, “Uh, Jim, this is my brother, Danny. Danny, this is Jim . . . I’m sorry, what did you say your last name was?”
    â€œTully. Jim Tully.”
    â€œYes, sorry.”
    â€œHi,” Danny said. He looked at April.
    â€œDanny, remember that personal ad I took out? Well, Jim is the first person to answer.” She laughed and looked at her date. “Jim, you don’t mind my little brother tagging along, do you?”
    â€œOh no,” Jim said. “That’s just fine. I have a brother myself, just about his age. How old are you, Danny?”
    â€œFourteen.”
    â€œWell, my little brother—his name is Bill—he’s sixteen. He plays basketball.”
    â€œThat’s great,” Danny said.
    â€œJim’s a lawyer,” April said. “He works for the Post Office.”
    â€œIn a consulting capacity.”
    A woman came by with a metal tea cart, shouting out names of delicacies in hoarse Cantonese, and Danny made a show of his expertise, gathering from the cart, among other things, a plate of small, noodle-wrapped bundles topped with hard-boiled quail eggs.
    â€œThis is the weirdest food I’ve ever seen,” Jim said.
    â€œWhat?” Danny said. “You’ve never eaten quail eggs?” Had he shaken his head in disgust? If he hadn’t, he decided later, he should have.
    â€œThank God Danny came with me,” April said later to Louise. They had just gotten back and were sitting in the warm kitchen, taking off their shoes. “This little guy positively saved my life.”
    She grabbed his head and started kissing him.
    â€œApril—”
    â€œI’m sorry, I can’t resist it, you’re too cute. ...”
    â€œApril!”
    â€œYour voice just cracked! Did you hear that?”
    â€œApril, let me go.”
    â€œSo you didn’t like this guy?” Louise said from the sink, where she was doing dishes.
    â€œOh, he was nice enough. Just boring. I couldn’t have stood having to be alone with him. As usual, my beloved brother came through for me. Ah, well.” She lumbered off toward her room, singing in a clear soprano, “I will never sing again. ...”
    But of course, soon enough, she did.
    Alone, she was more popular than ever.
    As for Joey, to Danny’s surprise, he reacted to April’s return to the stage with neither violence nor jealousy. He resigned himself to his failure; he returned to school. When Danny went riding his bicycle, he would see Joey on the campus sometimes, looking more quiet and bookish than usual. They never spoke; usually Danny rode