" 'Off base'? Of course, the baseball."
"Yes, Sir."
"I would like to see you, Cletus."
"Yes, Sir."
"Would tomorrow be convenient? Luncheon, perhaps, here at my home. I could send a car for you ..."
"No," Clete said. Why did I say "no"? "I have business downtown tomorrow morning. At the Alvear Palace Hotel. Could we meet there?"
"Certainly. Give me a time."
"Noon. I'll meet you in the lobby at noon."
"I will be there."
"How are you going to recognize me?"
"That will be no problem," his father said. "I will look forward to seeing you at noon. Thank you, Cletus."
The phone went dead.
I have just talked to my father. He found out I'm here and called me up. He invited me to lunch. A belated sense of being a father? Simple courtesy? Or simple curiosity. If I had a son, I'd at least want to see what he looks like.
"I'll be goddamned!" Clete heard himself say.
Nice, in front of the Mallins.
He exhaled audibly as he replaced the telephone in its cradle, then turned to face Mommy, Daddy, and the Virgin Princess. They were all looking at him with understandable curiosity.
"That was my father," Clete announced.
The looks on the faces of Mommy and Daddy changed from curiosity to surprise, or confusion. The look on the face of the Virgin Princess changed to disbelief.
"Your father?"Enrico Mallin asked, visibly baffled by the announcement. "He's here? In Buenos Aires?"
Clete was surprised at Mallin's reaction. Considering that Enrico Mallin had been doing business with Howell Petroleum for years, and had actually stayed with the old man on St. Charles Avenue, he had naturally presumed that Mallin had been treated, at least once, to the old man's standard "Oh, let me tell you about that three-star sonofabitch Hor-gay Goool-yermo Frah-day" diatribe, and that good manners, not ignorance, were the reason why the subject of his father had not come up.
Is that yet another example of the old man's ' "The Bottom Line Is All That Matters" philosophy? He didn't want to lose Mallin as a source of revenue. And that might have happened if Mallin or Mallin's father had known about the bad blood between the old man and my father.
"He lives here," Clete said. "I was born here. Until just now, I thought you knew."
"No, I didn't," Mallin said. "He lives here? He's an Argentine?"
"A retired Army officer," he said.
"But you're an American," Pamela blurted.
"My mother died when I was very young," Clete said. "I was raised by my grandfather and my aunt and uncle in the States."
"I see," Mallin said.
"If you were born here," the Virgin Princess announced, "and if your father is an Argentinean, then you're an Argentinean." She seemed pleased.
"No. I'm an American citizen."
"No, you're not," the Virgin Princess insisted.
"I can't imagine..." Mallin said. "How is it... ?"
"I've never met my father," Clete said.
"Henry, this is really none of our business," Pamela said.
"Who is your father?" Mallin asked, ignoring her. "You say he's a retired Army officer? What's his name?"
"Jorge Guillermo Frade," Clete said, hearing his grandfather's acidic pronunciation as he spoke. "El Coronel Jorge Guillermo Frade."
"My God, he's a friend of mine!" Mallin exclaimed. "And, Cletus, if you don't know this, he is not just 'a retired Army officer.' He's one of the most prominent men in the country."
"So I've been told," Clete said.
"You've never met him?" Pamela asked.
"There is bad blood between my grandfather and my father."
"How sad," Pamela said. "ButI couldn't help but overhearingyou're going to meet him tomorrow?"
"Yes, I am."
"He's Alicia Valdez's uncle," the Virgin Princess said. "She introduced me to him on Independence Day. At the reception at the officers' club."
"Who?" Pamela asked..
"Alicia," the Virgin Princess said.
"I really wish I had known all this," Mallin said. "I can't imagine what your father is thinking. You here, in my home, and..."
"If I have in any way embarrassed you, I'm sorry," Clete said. "But I... I simply presumed you knew."
"You haven't embarrassed us," the Virgin Princess said, walking across the room to him and touching his arm. "Has he, Mother?"
"Of course he hasn't," Pamela said. "It was a simple misunderstanding."
"When I see my father tomorrow, I will make sure he understands that you didn't know my relationship to him," Clete said.
"Funny," the Virgin Princess said, rubbing his arm and looking up into his eyes, "you don't look like an Argentinean."
Clete averted his eyes, which meant that they fell on the V of her dress, and into the valley between her breasts.
She's no older than Beth. And her feelings for you are as innocent as Beth's. Remember that.
"But you are, you know," the Virgin Princess went on, her fingers still on his arm. "An Argentinean. It was a question in a political science exaMi?ation."
"No, I'm not, Princess," Clete said firmly.
Pamela laughed.
"Princess? Why do you call her 'Princess'?" Pamela asked, smiling.
"Yes, why do you?" the Virgin Princess asked.
"Princesses are beautiful young girls, adored by their parents, who live in a castle like this one, waiting for their knight in shining armor to ride up on his horse," Clete said.
"I don't think I like the 'young girl' part. And why should my knight have to wear shining armor? Why not cowboy boots?"
"Dorotea, you're embarrassing Clete," Pamela protested.
"Am I embarrassing you, Clete?"
"Yes, you are."
"You can go to hell," the Virgin Princess said.
"Ignore her, Clete," Pamela said, one adult to another. "All of her friends think it's chic, and makes them seem mature, to swear like sailors."
[THREE]
Office of the Managing Director
Sociedad Mercantil de Importation de Productos
Petroliferos
21st Floor, Edificio Kavanagh
Calle Florida 1065
Buenos Aires, Argentina
1030 27 November 1942
"Excuse me, Senor Mallin," his secretary said, walking to his desk and extending a visiting card to him. "This gentleman says it is quite important that he see you." Mallin took the card and looked at it.
Alejandro Bernardo Martin
Teniente Coronel
Ministerio de Defense
Goddamn it! I knew something like this was going to happen!
"Ask him to come in, please," he said.
Martin, in a tweed jacket and gray flannel trousers, came into the office smiling and held his hand out.
"I very much appreciate your time, Se?or Mallin," he said. "I know that you're a very busy man."
"I always have time for the Ministry of Defense, mi Coronel," Mallin said, shaking his hand. "May I offer you a coffee?"