«The problem we had with Filipinos when I left, Pedro,» Weston said, «was not finding recruits, but sending them away because we didn't have arms for them.»
That, too, pleased Pedro, and that pleased Weston.
«And taking care of the Admiral is important, Pedro,» Mrs. Sayre said. «I don't know what he would do without you. And he, too, would rather be over there than here.»
The door chimes went off.
«That's probably Daddy,» Martha said. «He doesn't know how to open a door by himself. I'll go, Pedro.»
Without meaning to, Weston got another look up her dress as she lifted herself out of the chair.
It was not Admiral Sayre, it was a Marine major, short, lean, and suntanned, in a blond crew cut. «Afternoon, Mrs. Sayre,» he said. «The Admiral asked me to call at 1530.»
When Weston politely rose to his feet, he felt a little dizzy. As long as he'd been talking, he managed to remember, Pedro had quietly freshened up his glass whenever it had dropped below half empty.
Christ, I'm half in the bag!
And then he remembered that Pedro had freshened up Martha's drink several times, too. He looked at her. Her face seemed a little flushed.
Mrs. Sayre glanced at her wristwatch.
«Well, if he said half past three, he'll be here at half past three,» she said. «Major Williamson, this is a dear friend of the family—«
«So dear that he didn't even call up to tell us he was alive,» Martha said.
Jesus, is she plastered too ?
Martha's mother ignored the interruption, and went on: «—Captain Jim Weston.»
«How do you do, sir?»
«Weston,» Major Williamson said, with no cordiality whatsoever.
I
think he senses I have been at the sauce in the middle of the afternoon
.
«Can Pedro fix you something, Major?» Mrs. Sayre asked.
Major Williamson gave it perceptible thought before replying, «A light scotch, Mrs. Sayre, would be very nice.»
«Captain Weston was my late husband's best man when we were married. He's been telling us of his experiences as a guerrilla in the Philippines,» Martha said.
«You were a guerrilla in the Philippines, Captain?» Williamson said, looking at him dubiously.
«Yes, sir.»
The door chimes went off again as Major Williamson opened his mouth to press for details.
«That has to be Daddy,» Martha said. «I'll go.»
Weston got another look up her dress at her spectacular legs as she left her chair again.
You got the look up her dress, because you knew she would probably, and certainly innocently, expose herself that way again when she got out of her chair. Which proves you are a despicable sonofabitch
—
she's your buddy's widow, for Christ's sake
—
or drunk. Or both
.
What you came here to do was get Colonel Dawkins's letter into Major Williamson's hand, not make an ass of yourself, not be a despicable bastard.
And
only
a despicable bastard would think… Jesus, I'd like to run my hands
…
«Sir,» Weston heard himself blurting, «I believe we have some mutual friends.»
«Is that so?»
After some difficulty finding it, Weston took Colonel Dawkins's letter from an inside pocket and thrust it at Major Williamson.
«What's this?» Williamson said.
«I believe it will be self-explanatory, sir,» Weston said.
Williamson took the letter, unfolded it, and looked at Weston. «I'll be damned,» he said, his tone indicating that he was truly surprised to learn that they did have mutual friends.
Admiral Sayre marched into the room, trailed by his aide. «Dick,» he said, touching Williamson's shoulder, «I really appreciate your coming here on Saturday afternoon.»
«No problem at all, sir.»
«I won't have the time—as I had hoped to—to talk to you about Weston. But I just got the word that Admiral Wheeler is due in here in about thirty minutes—God only knows what he wants—and I will, of course, have to meet his plane. But at least you got to meet Weston. It's a long story, but he comes highly recommended by General Mclnerney, and we're going to have to do what we can for him.»
«Aye, aye, sir.»
«Just as soon as I can find a minute, I'll bring you up to speed on this.»
«Yes, sir.»
«And I really appreciate your coming here on a Saturday afternoon. Pedro got you a drink, at least?»
«Yes, sir,» Williamson said, holding it up.
«And as far as you're concerned, Jim,» Admiral Sayre said, «unless you're really in love with listening to a battleship admiral insist that the sole function of aviation is to serve as the eyes of the fleet, you'd better get out of here right now.»
«Aye, aye, sir.»
«We'll make it up to you when you come here,» Admiral Sayre said. «Finish your drink, of course.»
«Thank you very much for your hospitality, sir,» Weston said. «Don't be silly.»
«Wait until I get my purse, Jim,» Martha said. «I'm going with you.»
«What?» her father asked, surprised.
«Daddy, I already know that the sole function of aviation is to serve as the eyes of the fleet. I really don't want to hear it again.»
«Well, you're imposing on Jim, don't you think? He may have other things on his mind.»
«Am I, Jim?» Martha asked, meeting his eyes. «Or can you put up with me for a couple of hours.»
«I'd welcome the company,» Weston said.
«You see, Daddy?» Martha said, and walked off the patio. Admiral Sayre waited until she was out of earshot.
«I don't know how tough it will be for you, but I think Martha needs to talk over what happened to Greg with you. She knows how close you and Greg were.»
«Yes, sir.»
«If you have the time, Jim,» Mrs. Sayre said, «I'd appreciate it if… what? Take her to dinner or something. She needs to get out of the house, be with someone her own age.»
«I'd be happy to, if she'd want to go.»
«Thank you, Jim,» the Admiral announced, and, trailed by his aide and his wife, marched off his patio.
«Weston,» Major Williamson waved Colonel Dawkins's letter in his hand, «do you think this is what the Admiral wishes to discuss with me about you?»
«Yes, sir, I think that's probably it.»
«Very interesting. Good afternoon, Captain Weston.»
Jim was left alone on the patio. Martha returned several minutes later, finished her drink, and then took his arm and led him back through the house to the driveway.
He was very conscious of the pressure of her breasts against his arm.
From this point on, black coffee, no booze, and absolutely no physical contact.
«I like your car,» she said. «Does the roof go down?»
«Yes.»
«Put it down, then.»
«Yes, ma'am.»
note 38