ma’am,” Smythe said.
A very attractive young woman in a sweater and skirt walked up to them.
That’s Marjorie, General Devlin thought. God, I remember her when she had braces on her teeth. What did Mary-Catherine tell me? That she was involved with an enlisted man? Yes, but she also told me that she had married an officer.
“Hello, Marjorie,” General Devlin said. “How nice to see you again.”
“General Devlin,” Marjorie Bellmon Portet said.
“I understand you’ve been married,” he said.
“You and Mary-Catherine were invited, Eddie,” Barbara Bellmon said. “You sent regrets.”
“And a 220-volt toaster, which you said you were sure we would get to use, sooner or later. Thank you again,” Marjorie said.
“Our pleasure, honey,” General Devlin said.
“Jack,” Barbara Bellmon called, and when she had his attention, beckoned him over. And then beckoned again, to Major Lunsford.
“Jack, this is an old, old friend of the family, General Edward Devlin,” Barbara said. “Eddie, this is my new son-in-law, Jack Portet.”
A Green Beret! That’s worse than an enlisted man.
“How do you do, sir?” Jack said politely.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant, I’m really sorry we missed the wedding,” General Devlin said, and then his mouth ran away with him. “That was you in the L-23, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Brand-new, I think?”
“Yes, sir.”
“General Hanrahan’s aircraft?”
“Actually, sir, I guess you could say it’s Major Lunsford’s airplane, ” Jack said, nodding at Lunsford.
“Sir,” Lunsford said.
Devlin offered him his hand.
“Special Forces gives L-23s to majors?” Devlin asked, trying hard to smile, to seem interested in a friendly way.
“Well, sir, it’s mine only in the sense that it’s been given to a project they gave me,” Lunsford said.
“What project is that?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I’m not at liberty to discuss that,” Lunsford said.
“Of course,” General Devlin said, somewhat coldly, but still trying hard to smile.
Goddamn Green Berets. They classify everything they do.
“Well, Barbara, it was nice to see you and Marjorie again, and to meet these officers,” General Devlin said.
“Give my love to Mary-Catherine,” Barbara Bellmon said.
General Devlin shook hands with Jack and Father, and walked to the door to the parking area, where Captain Smythe and a staff car waited for him.
When the door had closed behind him, Barbara Bellmon turned to her daughter, her son-in-law, and Major Lunsford.
“Are you out of your minds?” she asked.
“Jack got back yesterday,” Marjorie said. “I wanted to be with him.”
“You’re not authorized to fly in Army aircraft,” Barbara Bellmon said.
“She wore a flight suit and put her hair up,” Jack said.
“I authorized it,” Father said.
“And if General Hanrahan hears that you ‘authorized’ it?” Barbara snapped. “Or my husband?”
“That’s one of those bridges we’ll cross if we get to it,” Lunsford said.
“Why?” Barbara Bellmon asked in exasperation.
“Johnny was supposed to fly Father here,” Marjorie said. “He called Liza Wood to tell her he was coming, and would she see him, and she hung up on him. And then he got drunk.”
“And we didn’t want General Hanrahan to hear about that . . . ,” Jack said.
“Johnny got drunk?” Barbara asked, genuinely shocked.
Marjorie nodded.
“How sad!” Barbara said. “My God!”
“So Jack flew me down here, and Marjorie said she was going to drive down so she could be with him, and I figured, what the hell . . .” Lunsford said.
“We owe Johnny, Mother,” Marjorie said. “Among other things, the only reason Bobby has his wings is because Johnny broke the rules and coached him.”
“We owe Johnny, agreed. But what you did?”
“She’s going back commercial,” Jack said. “It’s done.”
“You mean, you got away with it,” Barbara said.
“It looks that way, wouldn’t you say?” Lunsford said.
Barbara looked at Marjorie.
“I don’t know what these two are going to do here, but you and I, my irresponsible daughter, are going to have a long talk about the responsibilities of being an officer’s wife.”
“Mother, a half-dozen—more—times, I’ve heard you described as the perfect officer’s wife. I think that’s true, and I also think in the same circumstances, you would have done the same thing I did. I wanted to be with my husband. I needed to be with my husband.”
Barbara Bellmon looked at her daughter, opened her mouth to reply, closed her mouth, shrugged, and then said, “The car’s outside. ”
Captain Darrell J. Smythe escorted Brigadier General Devlin to the office of the commanding general, and after General Bellmon had personally come to the door of his office to beckon General Devlin to enter, had telephoned the office of the director of fixed-wing training to report that he had picked up General Devlin on schedule at Fort Hood, flown him to Fort Rucker, demonstrating en