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“You really want to know?”
“I really want to know.”
“Okay. The day after we eloped, my wife was killed when a drunk hit her head-on with his sixteen-wheeler.”
“Oh, Jimmy, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“When did this happen?”
“Five days ago. No, four.”
“I don’t believe that. And if you think you’re being amusing, you’re not.”
“Boy Scout’s Honor, Mrs. Schumann. And if you don’t believe that, try this on for size: That same afternoon, the President of the United States, the Honorable Harry S Truman, pinned the Distinguished Service Medal, and captain’s bars, on me. And at nine o’clock—excuse me, let’s keep this military—at twenty-one hundred hours that same night, Colonel Mattingly and I got on the plane that brought us back here.”
“My God, you’re telling me the truth!”
“Yes, Mrs. Schumann, I’m telling you the truth.”
“And now I did this to you. Jimmy, I’m so sorry. If I had known . . .”
“Mrs. Schumann, it takes two to tango, as they say in Buenos Aires, where, putting your credulity to the test once again, I was three days before I got married.”
“You have every reason to be disgusted with me, but could you bring yourself to call me Rachel and not Mrs. Schumann?”
He looked at her and found himself looking into her sad eyes.
“Sure, Rachel, why not?”
“Jimmy, I am so very sorry.”
“Rachel, if you’re on a guilt trip, don’t be. You may have noticed I was an enthusiastic participant in what just happened.”
She smiled.
“I noticed. I feel a little guilty about . . . not knowing what happened to you. But not about what I did. Understand?”
“No.”
“Are you interested?” she said, then before he could reply added: “I think I should tell you.”
He still didn’t reply.
“Despite what it looks like, I don’t jump into bed with every good-looking young officer I meet.”
His face showed his disbelief.
“Or touch them under the table,” she went on. “Testing your credulity, this is the first time I’ve ever been unfaithful to my husband.”
“Is that so?”
“We grew up together. We got married when Tony graduated from college. I was nineteen. He went into the Signal Corps. His degree’s in electrical engineering. We had our two children, Anton Junior, who’s now fourteen, and Sarah, who’s now twelve, when we were stationed at Fort Monmouth—”
“Rachel,” he interrupted, “you don’t have to do—”
She silenced him by putting her finger to her lips.
