«Ernie and I went to see him in Philadelphia when we passed through. That's where they send banged-up aviators, you know.»
«I went to see him…«
»… a month ago,» McCoy finished. «He told me. He also told me to tell you he is now walking with a cane only.»
«When I saw him, he was on one of those things… parallel bars set just high enough for your hands. Having a hell of a time. Jesus!»
«He wants to go back to flying,» McCoy said. «Anyway, he told me
he
was worried about
you. Ol'
Hot Shot himself. He told me that you told him that Good ol' Whatsername…«
«Martha,» Ernie furnished. «Martha Sayre Culhane.»
«Thank you
very
much, former friend,» Pick said.
«Who, when the dashing Marine Aviator told her 'I love you,' said, 'Thank you just the same, but I am not at all interested.' «
«Don't push me, Ken,» Pick said.
«Breaking your heart.»
«Honey,» Ernie said to McCoy. «It's not funny.»
«And causing you to turn to whisky and wild, wild women to forget. Which also caused you to change from being a pretty good Marine officer to a fuckup…«
»
Fuck you
, Ken.»
»… about to have your ass shipped to the fuckup squadron. How do you think your father's going to like that?»
«This is my business, not my father's, not yours. Is the lecture about over, Captain, sir? Frankly, I'm getting a little bored with it.»
«Jesus Christ, if this woman is so important to you, why the hell are you quitting? Give it another shot!»
Pick shrugged, but didn't respond directly to the question.
«I asked if the lecture was about over?» Pick said.
«Not quite. Almost.»
«Then pray continue.»
«And what makes you think Charley Galloway would put up with your hotshot, i'm a Guadalcanal ace, the rules don't apply to me,' bullshit?» McCoy said, half sadly, half angrily.
«Ken!» Ernie said warningly.
«I went out to Ewa with Galloway to see Big Steve,» McCoy went on. «When Charley walked into a hangar, one of his lieutenants called, 'Skipper on the deck!' and everybody popped to. Including Big Steve. For Christ's sake, Pick, grow up! Charley wouldn't put up with half of the bullshit you're giving Billy.»
The doorbell rang just as Pick opened his mouth to reply.
With a little bit of luck, that will be one of Pick's naked ladies
, Ernie thought.
Arriving just in the nick of time to keep this from really getting out of hand
.
Pick went to the door and opened it.
Mrs. Quincy T. (Elizabeth-Sue) Megham, Jr., stood there, wearing a perky little hat with a veil, a silver fox cape, and a look that was a mixture of surprise, disappointment, and discomfiture.
«Oh, I hope I'm not interrupting anything!» she said. «I just took the chance…«
«Fortunately, you are,» Ernie said, and walked quickly to the door. «Hi, I'm Ernie Sage. You got here just in time to help me drink some champagne. These two are on the hard stuff.»
«Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude!»
«Not at all,» Ernie said, as she grabbed her arm and dragged her into the room. «I'm really glad to see you.» She propelled her to the bar and poured a glass of champagne for her. «I'm the closest thing Pick has to a sister,» Ernie went on. «A
big
sister. And Captain McCoy is Pick's best friend, although Pick sometimes forgets that.»
«How do you do?» Elizabeth-Sue said, directing the greeting mostly to McCoy. McCoy inclined his head and said, «Ma'am.»
«You're stationed at the air station, Captain McCoy?»
«You can call him 'Killer,' « Ernie said. «
All
of his friends do.»
«Oh, Christ!» Pick said, and laughed.
McCoy shook his head in disbelief, but he seemed more amused than angry.
» '
Killer'
?» Elizabeth-Sue asked incredulously.
«As in 'Lady-killer,' « Ernie explained.
«Oh, really?» Elizabeth-Sue asked.
Pick started to giggle. It had a contagious reaction on McCoy. «He really is,» Pick said. «They both are. My best friends in all the world.»
«Then you're not out at the air station, Captain McCoy?» Elizabeth-Sue asked.
«No, ma'am. We're just passing through.»
Elizabeth-Sue's relief at hearing that was evident on her face.
«Lieutenant Pickering—Pick—and I are involved in the Friday dance program for the enlisted people at the air station,» Elizabeth-Sue said.
«Oh, come on, Elizabeth-Sue,» Ernie said. «I told you we're best friends.»
«I don't know what you mean,» Elizabeth-Sue said.
«I mean I'll give you five-to-one odds that I'm not the only female in this room sleeping with a Marine she's not married to,» Ernie said.
Elizabeth-Sue's mouth dropped open and she looked at Ernie in utter disbelief.
«Jesus H. Christ!» Pick said.
«So why don't we stop pretending,» Ernie went on, «and, for example, decide where we can all have a nice dinner where no one who knows you or Pick will see you? After you and I finish the champagne, I mean.»
«I just can't believe I'm hearing this!» Elizabeth-Sue said.
«As a general rule of thumb, Elizabeth-Sue,» Pick said, «you can believe anything Ernie says.»
«You can believe this, Elizabeth-Sue,» Ernie said. «Captain McCoy and I are just as concerned as you are about you and Pick not getting caught. Maybe more than you are.»
«I never, in my entire life—«
«Yes, or no, Elizabeth-Sue?» Pick interrupted her.
Elizabeth-Sue looked at him for a long moment before replying, «Honey, I just can't think of any place, except one across the river.»
«We could eat here,» Ernie said. «It would be safer, and I really don't feel like going out anywhere.»
«Maybe that would be better,» Elizabeth-Sue said.
She drained her glass and extended it to Ernie for a refill. «May I ask you a question?» she asked.
«Ask away.»
«What do you do?»
«When I'm not in my camp follower role, you mean?»
Elizabeth-Sue flinched a little at that, but nodded.
«She's the creative director, reporting directly to the account executive for the American Personal Pharmaceuticals account at BBD&O,» Pick announced, sounding very much like a prideful brother.
Elizabeth-Sue confessed she really didn't know what that meant.
«It means she takes home probably twice as much money every month as Lady-killer McCoy and I do together.»
«That's enough about me, thank you very much,» Ernie said. «Get on the phone and order us some hors d'oeuvres.»
«Yes, ma'am,» Pick said, and went to the telephone.
«How long are you going to be in Memphis?» Elizabeth-Sue asked.
«Just as soon as Ken can get us a compartment on a train to Florida—and he's very good at that sort of thing—we're going to Palm Beach for a little sun. With a little bit of luck, maybe tomorrow.»