Caine Mutiny, The - Herman Wouk [18]
“Well, there was a nurse I once didn’t marry,” said his father thoughtfully. “But I have no regrets. Your mother and I have had a fine life- Well, they’ll be wondering what happened to us.” Still he made no move to go.
“Dad, is there something else you want to talk about?”
The father hesitated. “Nothing that can’t wait.”
“Why don’t you visit me down at school? It’s kind of interesting.”
“I’m not free much.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Maybe I will, though.” Dr. Keith put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “This isn’t necessarily a bad time for you, Willie. The Navy.”
“Not if I emerge in one piece. It might do me good.”
“It might- Let’s go.”
Willie glanced at his watch as they re-entered the living room. Five to four. He made hasty excuses to the guests, overriding his mother’s loud protests. She followed him to the door. “When will I see you again, dear?” she said as he pulled the belt tight on his blue raincoat.
“Next Saturday, Mom, if I stay out of trouble.”
“Oh, no. I’ll come and see you before that.”
It was twenty past six when he rushed into the Stork Club. Hurriedly pulling off his coat at the check room, he caught a glimpse of May. The phrases of apology faded from his mind. Marty Rubin, the agent, sat with her. “Now, what is that Jew doing here at this point?” he thought. His greeting to both of them was cool.
“Congratulations on making midshipman. May’s been telling me about it,” said the agent. “I envy you your uniform.”
Willie glanced from his own brass-buttoned blues to Rubin’s gray single-breasted suit cut too full for the taste of Manhasset and Princeton. The peering baldish fat agent seemed a living cartoon of the Civilian. “I envy you yours,” he said with a quiet irony, and chose a chair opposite May, leaving Rubin between himself and the girl. “What are you drinking?”
Rubin beckoned to a waiter. “Scotch,” he said. “What will you have?”
“Double scotch,” said Willie.
“Good heavens,” said May. She regarded Willie in an intent, not quite friendly way.
“A man’s drink for a naval officer,” Rubin remarked. He lifted his half-empty glass. “I’ll finish mine and run along. May and I were just talking a little business till you got here.”
“Don’t rush off,” said Willie. “Have dinner with us. Sorry I’m late, May.”
“Marty is very good company. I didn’t mind,” answered the girl.
“Thanks,” said the agent. “I know when it’s time for a fill-in act to get off.” He drained his drink and stood. “Have yourselves a time, kids. By the way, your dinner is paid for.”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Willie.
“My pleasure. I’ve seen Frank,” he said, indicating the headwaiter. “Don’t let the sailor pay for anything, May. They’ll be gypping him. So long.”
Willie felt obliged to get up and shake Rubin’s hand. “Thank you,” he said. “That really wasn’t necessary.”
“My bit for the war effort,” said Rubin, and walked off with his heavy waddling gait.
“That was sweet of Marty,” said May. “I didn’t know he’d done it.”
“Very sweet. Also a bit vulgar,” said Willie, sitting and taking a deep gulp of his drink. “I don’t like favors to be pressed on me.”
“Go to hell,” said May. “Marty Rubin is my best friend in the world, and I include you-”
“I gather that. You’re inseparable.”
“I keep him around to remind me that there are decent men in the world who don’t consider every girl a thing to be jumped at and pawed-”
“Sorry I’m such a beast as to find you attractive. Possibly your friend prefers tall girls.”
May was conscious enough of her height to wear extra-high heels. The blow knocked out her wind for a moment, but she rallied. “How dared you talk to him like