“You really are the most beautiful woman in the world,” Mr. Rodríguez said. “If I hadn’t always known it, I know it now.”
“Please keep on thinking so,” she said and then they were out in the street.
“Well,” she said. “That wasn’t too bad. Ginny likes him, too, and he’s nice.”
“He is nice,” Thomas Hudson said and the chauffeur opened the door of the car for them.
“You’re nice,” she said. “I wish you hadn’t had quite so many drinks. That’s why I skipped the champagne. Who was your dark friend at the end of the bar?”
“Just my dark friend at the end of the bar.”
“Do you need a drink? We could stop somewhere and get one.”
“No. Do you?”
“You know I never do. I’d like some wine though.”
“I have wine out at the house.”
“That’s wonderful. Now you can kiss me. They won’t arrest us now.”
“¿Adonde vamos?” the chauffeur asked looking straight ahead.
“A la finca,” Thomas Hudson said.
“Oh, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” she said. “Go right ahead. It doesn’t make any difference if he sees us, does it?”
“No. It makes no difference. You can cut his tongue out if you like.”
“No, I don’t want to. Nor nothing brutal ever. But you were nice to offer it.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. How are you? You old love-house of always.”
“I’m the same.”
“Really the same?”
“The same as one always is. I’m yours in this town.”
“Until the plane leaves.”
“Exactly,” she said and changed her position for the better in the car. “Look,” she said. “We’ve left the shining part and it’s dirty and smoky. When didn’t we do that?”
“Sometimes.”
“Yes,” she said. “Sometimes.”
Then they looked at the dirty and the smoky and her quick eyes and lovely intelligence saw everything instantly that had taken him so many years to see.
“Now it gets better,” she said. She had never told him a lie in his life and he had tried to never lie to her. But he had been quite unsuccessful.
“Do you still love me?” she asked. “Tell me true without adornments.”
“Yes. You ought to know.”
“I know,” she said, holding him to prove it if it could prove it.
“Who is the man now?”
“Let’s not talk about him. You wouldn’t care for him.”
“Maybe not,” he said and held her so close that it was as though something must break if both were truly serious. It was their old game and she broke and the break was clean.
“You don’t have breasts,” she said. “And you always win.”
“I don’t have a face to break your heart. Nor what you have and the long lovely legs.”
“You have something else.”
“Yes,” he said. “Last night with a pillow and a cat making love.”
“I’ll make up for the cat. How far is it now?”
“Eleven minutes.”
“That’s too far the way things are now.”
“Should I take it from him and drive it in eight?”
“No, please, and remember everything I taught you about patience.”
“That was the most intelligent and stupid lesson I learned. Reteach it to me a little now.”
“Do I have to?”
“No. It is only eight minutes now.”
“Will it be a nice place and will the bed be big?”
“We will have to see,” Thomas Hudson said. “Are you starting to have your old doubts already?”
“No,” she said. “I want a big, big bed. To forget all about the army.”
“There is a big bed,” he said. “Maybe not as big as the army.”
“You don’t have to be rough,” she said. “All the beautiful ones end up showing pictures of their wives. You should know the Airbornes.”
“I’m glad I don’t. We’re a little waterlogged. But we were never waterborne nor said so.”
“Can you tell me anything about it?” she asked him, her hand now soundly in his pocket.
“No.”
“You never would and I love you for it. But I get curious and people ask me and I worry.”
“Just be curious,” he said. “And never worry. Don’t you remember that curiosity killed a cat? I’ve got a cat and he’s curious enough.” He thought of Boise. Then he said, “But worry kills big businessmen right in their prime. Do I have to worry about you?”