Miss Taylor said, in what could have been just about any language.
“What’s going on here?” Mr. Taylor asked.
“I don’t get kissed?” Miss Taylor asked.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” Mr. Taylor said, and bent over and kissed her.
“What are you doing here?” Mr. Taylor asked.
“Whatever it is, Charley,” Dr. Lunsford said, sounding very happy, “it involves your daughter and my son and champagne.”
“Jesus Christ!” Mr. Taylor said, taking a good look at Major Lunsford, who was in a light blue seersucker suit.
“Daddy, this is George,” Cecilia said.
“I knew you in short pants, George,” Mr. Taylor said, offering him his hand. “The last I heard, you had gone in the Army. What are you doing now? A doctor like your dad?”
“I’m still in the Army, sir,” Major Lunsford said.
“Are you really?” Mr. Taylor said. He sounded surprised.
“We would both like to apologize for this,” Cecilia said. “But it was either do it this way, or go back to the Congo without seeing you all, and together, and telling you.”
“Telling us what, darling?” Mrs. Taylor asked, sounding a bit uneasy.
“Go back to the Congo?” Dr. Miller asked.
“We’re on the six-o’clock Pan American flight to Durban in the morning,” Cecilia said. “From New York.”
“Tell us what, darling?” Mrs. Taylor repeated.
Cecilia extended her left hand, on which was a diamond engagement ring. She had had it on her finger for just over five hours.
“Oh, my God!” Mrs. Taylor said.
“I’ll be damned!” Mr. Taylor said.
“Well, well,” Dr. Lunsford said, beaming.
“What are you doing in the Congo?” Dr. Miller asked.
“I’m with the embassy there,” Cecilia said.
“Are you really?” Dr. Lunsford asked. “And that’s where you two met?”
“Right,” Major Lunsford said.
“So what are you doing here? And why do you have to go back right away?”
“There was a conference in Washington,” Cecilia said, having decided, with her fiancé on the train from Washington, that it probably would not be a good idea to tell their parents that they had spent two days at Camp David, where, among other things, they had had dinner with the President of the United States and Mrs. Johnson. “Just a quick trip. We have to go back to work.”
“Why don’t we open the champagne?” Major Lunsford suggested.
“Good idea,” Dr. Lunsford said.
The waiter began to open one of the bottles of champagne.
“You’re stationed in the Congo?” Mr. Taylor asked of Major Lunsford. “I didn’t know we had troops in the Congo.”
“I’m an adviser to the Congolese Army,” Major Lunsford said.
“He’s a Green Beret,” Dr. Miller said. It sounded like an accusation.
“Are you really?” Mr. Taylor asked.
“It’s supposed to be a secret, but the word is out,” Dr. Miller said. “We’re training the fascist army of Kasavubu to wipe out the liberation movement.”
“Put a lid on it, Charley,” Major Lunsford said.
“It’s a disgrace, our being there,” Dr. Miller continued.
“Well, somebody had to show them how to bayonet babies, Charley,” Major Lunsford said.
“George!” Mrs. Lunsford said warningly.
“George, shut up,” Cecilia said in Swahili.
“What language is that?” Dr. Lunsford asked.
“Swahili,” Major Lunsford and Miss Taylor said in unison.
“And what is it, if you don’t mind my asking, Cecilia, that you do in the Congo?” Dr. Miller asked.
“I’m attached to the Office of Cultural Affairs,” Cecilia said.
“And what does that entail?” Mrs. Lunsford asked.
“Well, a number of things,” Cecilia said. “We arrange for American symphony orchestras to visit the Congo, for example.”
“And right now,” Major Lunsford said, “Cecilia is pushing hard to get a troupe of Tutsi folksingers over here.”
Mrs. Lunsford wondered why that earned George a dirty look from Cecilia. It sounded like an innocent remark.
Everyone was now holding a champagne glass.
“This isn’t quite what I had in mind for Cecilia’s engagement party,” Mr. Taylor said, “but may I suggest we toast the engaged couple?”
“Here, here,” Dr. Lunsford said.
Everyone took a sip of champagne.
“Did you propose in Swahili, George?” Dr. Lunsford asked. “And how did you two meet, incidentally? At the embassy?”
“I think I proposed in English,” Major Lunsford said.
“We met at the embassy,” Cecilia said.
“So you know what he’s doing over there? And you approve?” Dr. Miller challenged.
“We don’t talk much about our work,” Cecilia said quickly.
“And when do you plan to be married? And where?” Mr. Taylor asked.
“We thought we would wait until we come home,” Cecilia said.
“Oh, good!” Mrs. Taylor said.
“And when will that be, when you come home?”
“We talked about that in Washington,” Cecilia said. “It shouldn’t be long now. Maybe eight months, maybe six, maybe even less.”
The President of the United States: How long will it take before Guevara throws in the towel,