"Bring whiskey," Frade ordered. "Scotch."
"And for the young Se?or?"
"Bring him whatever he wants, of course."
"Nothing for me, thank you."
"Then I received a letter from your mother. She wrote that she had been wrong, and that she now understood. She would now be confirmed in my Church and place her life in God's hands and mine. I didn't pay a lot of attention. I have never pretended to understand women and God. But the immediate problem, marriage in church, was over."
The whiskey was delivered. Frade watched impatiently for about thirty seconds as the maid fussed with a silver-handled shot glass, then he took the bottle from her and poured an inch and a half in his glass.
"And then get out," he concluded to her. He waited until the maid fled again before going on.
"So we were married. We went to Europe. It was a splendid time. And then she became pregnant with you. And fell ill. Her doctor informed me that further pregnancies were ill-advised. That was fine with me. We were to have a baby. Two or three babies might increase the chances of having a son, but if the choice was between a second baby and your mother ..."
He took a healthy swallow of his drink.
"I told her, before you were born, that there is some sort of an operation performed duringwhat is the word deliverythat prevents future pregnancies. She flatly refused. She said her life was in God's hands; God would protect her. She had sworn a vow before God; she was honor bound.
"I thought I would talk her out of this nonsense at a later time. There are ... certain measures ... one can take to prevent pregnancy. After a while, after you were born, she told me she had discussed this question with her confessor, and the priest told her there was only one thing she could do to avoid children. You know what I mean."
No, I don't. Oh, yeah. Abstinence.
"What happened thereafter is clearly my responsibility," Frade said. I knew the risk, and out of selfishness, I took it. And you know what happened. But I loved her so much, with such passion ..."
"Why did you leave me in the States?"
"Your grandfather hated me, with obvious good cause. Your uncle James hated me."
"You could have told them."
"They would not have believed it. And I could not, in any event, try to blame your mother's religious fanaticism for what happened. God didn't make her pregnant, I did."
He looked at Clete.
"I asked you, why did you leave me in the States?" Clete said.
"I hoped not to get into this, Cletus."
"Get into it."
"When I went to Midland and drove to the ranch, I was arrestedby two Texas Rangers, by the wayand charged with trespassing. I was sentenced to ninety days in the county prison. When I was finally able to get a lawyerI was employed on the county roads, clearing drainage ditcheshe told me that an appeal of my jail sentence, much less an application to the courts to have you returned to me, would be a waste of effort."
The Old Man is certainly capable of arranging that.
"The lawyer did tell me that he could have the sentence vacated on my promise to leave Texas and never return. So I accepted that offer and sought other legal counsel. When I arrived at the courthouse seeking an injunction to have you returned to me, I was rearrested by the Texas Rangers for parole violation, and returned to Midland to complete my sentence."
"I never heard any of this."
"I'm not surprised," Frade said simply. "When I was released from jail, officials of the Immigration Service were waiting outside. My visa had been revoked on allegations that my morals were not up to the standards required of visitors to the United States. I was taken to El Paso, Texas, and escorted across the Mexican border."
"Incredible!"
In Mexico City, a firm of lawyersI was assured they were the best aroundinformed me that my case was virtually hopeless. In order to petition a Federal Court for your return to me, I had to be physically in the United States. OtherwiseI remember the phrase wellI 'had no legal status' before the court. And I could not, of course, obtain another visa to enter the United States. Your grandfather hates with a great depth, Cletus. In a way, it's admirable."
"My mother was his only daughter," Clete said softly.
Yes, of course. In Buenos Aires, I consulted with our Foreign Ministry, who took the case to the Argentine Ambassador in Washington." He shrugged, holding out his arms helplessly. "Little pressure could be brought to bear ... especially now that several United States senators had already brought the case to the attention of the State Department. The senators were furious that an American child might be expatriated into the care of a father whose morals were ..."
"Jesus H. Christ."
I considered having you takenkidnapped. But I finally ... Your aunt Martha loved you. I knew that. She would be a mother to you. I was alone. It would be better for you to be raised by Martha than by my sister, who has never been entirely sound mentally. Or by servants. So I quit, Cletus. Gave up."
"All I can do is repeat that I knew nothing."
"I was right about one thing. Jim and Martha raised you well."
Very hesitantly, one of the maids entered.
"We do not wish to be disturbed," Frade said softly.
"The Se?ora is here, mi Coronel. She asks to be received."
"I will be a son of a bitch!" Frade exclaimed.
"The Se?ora?" Clete asked.
"She is the Carzino-Cormano widow," Frade explained. "She has an estancia nearby. Pushy woman. Comes here whenever she feels like it. Does not have the good manners to telephone to see if it would be convenient. I had hoped she would spare me today." He turned to the maid. "Tell the Se?ora that we will join her shortly."
The door opened again and a svelte woman in her fifties walked into the dining room. Her gray-flecked, luxuriant black hair was folded up under a hat with a veil; a double string of pearls hung from her neck; and a golden sunburst with diamond-chip decorations was pinned to the right breast of her black silk dress.
"1 was planning to bring him by to meet you tomorrow," Frade
said.
"So you said," she said. She looked around the room, and turned to the maid. "Clean up the mess on the floor, remove the whiskey, and bring champagne. I told Ramona to chill half a dozen bottles this morning."
The maid hurried to obey her orders.
"I have not finished my drink," Frade protested.
"Yes, you have," she said. She walked to Clete. He rose to his feet as she put out her hand. "You are Cletus. I am Claudia de Carzino-Cormano. You may call me Claudia."
"Yes, Ma'am."
She turned to Frade. There is much of his mother in him, but also much of you. Which may not be entirely a good thing."
Three maids entered the room, one stooping to clean up the mess on the floor, the others carrying a silver wine cooler and a tray of glasses.
"Can you open that? Claudia inquired. "How much have you had to drink?"
"I have had this one drink."
"And how many before? You were as nervous as a virgin on her bridal night when I talked to you this morning."
This woman is not simply a pushy widow woman from the next spread,Clete thought.
Claudia took the champagne bottle from the cooler, expertly uncorked it, and poured.
She handed Clete a glass, then handed one to his father, and finally picked hers up.
"Welcome to Argentina," she said, and raised her glass. Clete followed suit.