Neil San Francisco — 1985 Whipped Cream and Respectability

It is a week after Jackson’s death. In Bert’s, Pam and Neil lean toward each other, the counter between them.

“I love that hat, Pamela,” Neil says, “It’s like a dollop of whipped cream.”

“Me too,” Pam replies, “Someone I loved very much, my nanny’s sister, had one like it a long, long time ago. I always coveted it. If I’d been really good, I was allowed to wear it. It seemed so grown up and respectable.”

Neil laughs, “Funny, I never thought about being ‘respectable’ when I was a kid. Where did you grow up? Having a nanny seems pretty high-toned to me.”

Pamela smiles ruefully. “Appearances can be deceptive.”