1632

Melissa's mouth was still open, ready to speak. Her eyes were slits, her shoulders tense. She'd faced down bullies before, by God! Southern sheriffs and D.C. police and company goons. If Mike Stearns thinks he can intimidate me… !

Suddenly, she puffed out her cheeks. For a moment, she looked like a slender, elegant, sophisticated blowfish. Then, with a rush, blew out the air.

'Okay,' she said.

Mike eyed her with suspicion. 'What is this? Since when do you give up so quick? I was expecting you to throw up a picket line next.'

Melissa grinned. 'Well… Don't think I'm not tempted.' The grin faded. Her face grew a little weary. 'I don't like it, Mike. Not one bit. But I imagine you don't either. And-well, you're right, much as I hate to admit it. The alternative is just to drive them and their camp followers out.'

Underwood cleared his throat. 'Excuse me, folks, but I've got to say here that I think we should consider that alternative.' Hastily: 'Well, the soldiers anyway.'

Frank Jackson started to speak but there came a knock at the door. Ed got up and went to open it. When he saw who was standing there, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

Jeff Higgins. Flanked by his three friends, Larry Wild, Jimmy Anderson and Eddie Cantrell. All of their faces bore the same expressions. An equal mix of stubborn determination and deep apprehension.

'What's up, boys?' Ed asked. 'We're in a meeting, you know.'

Jeff took a deep breath and spoke.

'Yeah, Mr. Piazza, we know and I'm sorry to barge in like this but I thought-well, me and my buddies talked it over after I talked it over with them and'-a look of surprise and relief washed quickly across his face-'since they backed me up even though I thought they were gonna give me a hard time about it we talked it over and after we did we all agreed that I should come here first-they said they'd back me up-and tell you about it first on account of there's probably going to be all hell to pay- pardon my language, Ms. Mailey-so we might as well get it over with right away. So there it is.'

He braced himself, obviously expecting some sort of onslaught.

Ed frowned, and turned his head to face the adults in the room. They responded with frowns of their own. In the doorway and the corridor beyond, four teenage boys braced themselves.

Ed shook his head. 'Jeff, uh-what's this about, exactly?'

Jeff's eyes widened. 'Oh. Yeah. Sorry.' He took another deep breath and launched. 'Well, it's like this and we've already agreed-both of us-and it's over and settled and done with and nobody can do anything about it because I'm legal age and my parents aren't around anyway and neither are hers either. So there it is.'

The boys braced themselves.

Silence. Frowns.

Suddenly, Melissa started laughing.

'Oh, Lord!' She bestowed a look of sheer approval upon Jeff. 'Young man, I want you to know that I've never inflated a grade in my life, but you are guaranteed an A in any class of mine you ever take.'

Jeff frowned. 'I'm about to graduate, Ms. Mailey.'

'Silly! Adult education. Instruction in German, if nothing else. I've already started learning the language so I can help teach it.'

She beamed at Jeff. 'Had to use a dictionary, didn't you?'

He looked sheepish. 'Well. Yeah.'

Ed exploded. 'What's this all about?' he demanded, throwing up his hands.

'Isn't it obvious?' Melissa pointed a finger at Jeff, wiggling it a bit. 'He just proposed to Gretchen and she accepted.' Grinning: 'So. When's the wedding?'

All hell broke loose.

Chapter 26

'Yeah, Mr. Dreeson, I know she's only marrying me on account of she needs it to take care of her folks. So what? I've seen people get married for lots worse reasons.'

'Yeah, Mr. Piazza, I know I only just met her and we hardly know each other. So what? The way I figure it, we'll have years together anyway with nothing else to do.'

'Yeah, Mr. Ferrara, I know we'll probably just wind up getting divorced anyway. So what? Some of you folks have been divorced, haven't you?'

A moment's pause in the ruckus. Not much. Just a little stutter before the voices of adult wisdom plowed on.

'Yeah, Mr. Underwood, I know she's dirt poor and she's just marrying me for my money but that's a laugh because I don't have any worth talking about anyway. So what if I lose it? She's welcome to it.'

'Yeah, Mr. Hudson, I know she's a knockout and that's probably at least half the reason I'm dumb enough to marry her. So what? I don't see where that's much different from lots of the other marriages I've seen in this town.' Unkindly: 'At least my girl is a knockout.'

Driven off by the armor of youthful folly, adult wisdom turned on the eccentricities of maturity.

'Melissa!' roared Dreeson. 'Will you please stop encouraging this child with your-what are you doing, anyway?'

Melissa paused in her awkward gesturing. 'Give me a break. I know I'm not good at it. I was much too refined to be a cheerleader in high school. Got to ask Julie Sims to give me some pointers.' She rose from her seat and took a dramatic pose, as if holding pom-poms. 'Two! Four! Six! Eight! What do we appreciate? Matrimony! Matrimony!'

By now, James Nichols was laughing gaily. Mike, standing by the window staring out into the darkness, was grinning. So was Rebecca, sitting on her chair.

Frank Jackson, on the other hand, was glaring. Not at Jeff, however.

'All of you just shut up,' he snarled. The genuine anger in his voice brought silence to the room. Startled, everyone except Mike stared at him. James stopped laughing and Melissa stopped gesturing.

When Frank continued, his voice was a low growl. ' 'She's not good enough for you,' ' he mimicked. ' 'She only wants American citizenship.' 'She's too different.' 'It won't work.' ' Snarling: 'Jesus!'

He fixed Underwood with a cold gaze. Underwood had been the most vociferous-and crude-in his opposition to Jeff's announcement. 'Let me ask you something, Quentin. Just where in the hell do you think I met Diane, anyway?'

Sarcastically: 'You do know who I'm talking about, right?' He held up his hand, palm down, less than five feet from the floor. 'Little-bitty woman, 'bout so tall. You may have seen her around town now and then. Woman I been married to for, what is it now, thirty years? Mother of my three kids.' His anger faded, for just an instant, replaced by sorrow. Frank and Diane's three sons were all adults, and had moved out of town. The Ring of Fire had left them behind.

The anger returned, along with a half-sneer. 'Yeah, Quentin, I'm curious. Did you think I met her at a gala reception at the embassy? Me in my swank uniform and her wearing a slinky evening gown imported from Paris? Did you think she was some kind of Vietnamese princess?'

Underwood looked away. 'It's none of my business, Frank,' he said, uncomfortably. 'I never asked. Nobody knows, I don't think.'

Frank snorted. He glanced at Mike. 'He knows. A few others.' Frank was in one of his very rare tempers. He leaned forward, clenching his fists on the table. 'Well, I'll tell you what. I'm going to make it your business. I met Diane at-'

'Frank!' Mike's voice was not loud, just insistent. He turned away from the window and walked back to the table. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder. 'Leave it alone. There's no need for this.'

He looked at Jeff, still standing in the doorway. 'If it's worth anything to you, Jeff, I think you're probably the smartest person in town at this particular moment. You already figured out something the rest of us are trying to catch up with. Except maybe Melissa.'

His eyes fell on another figure. Softly: 'Or Rebecca.'

Startled, Rebecca's eyes widened. Mike smiled. 'Especially Rebecca, I think. Why don't you explain it to them?'

Rebecca hesitated. She asked questions at these meetings, but, so far, had rarely offered an opinion. Mike's warm eyes-loving eyes-emboldened her.

'I am not sure, Michael. But I shall try.'

She turned her gaze to the other people sitting at the table. 'You have a choice here.' She took a little breath, and closed a final gap. 'We have a choice here. We can take one of two roads. Jeff's road-as 'foolish' and 'impetuous' as it may be-or a different road. Jeff's road leads to a country very much like the one I believe you once had.' Sadly: 'Like the dream my people once called Sepharad. The other-'

Her voice grew harsh and cold. That tone, coming from soft Rebecca, was quite shocking. 'The other leads to a military aristocracy. A land of hidalgos and inquisitors. So-called 'pure-blood' Americans-limpieza-ruling over a horde of German peons.'

She gestured with her head toward the window. 'What are those people out there going to be for us? Those dirty, diseased, desperate people out there in the camps and the woods. Fellow citizens, neighbors, friends-wives and husbands? Or are they going to be serfs, servants, lackeys-concubines? That is the choice.'

Underwood was ogling her. 'What? You aren't-' His eyes were very wide.

Melissa's laugh was sarcastic. 'Oh, for the sake of Christ, Quentin! Of course she's not proposing that we require anybody to get married. Grow up!' An impish gleam came to her eyes. 'Although, now that I think about it-Alexander the Great did, you know? Made his Macedonian officers all marry Persian girls. Hmmm.'

Mike chuckled. 'Stop feeding the tourists, Melissa.'

Quentin's eyes were still wide. Mike shook his head. 'The point, Quentin, is not what this or that individual decides to do, but what stance we take toward whatever decision somebody does make. People can think or say or do whatever they want. That's not the same thing as what a society sanctions.' He pointed at Jeff. 'For the first time, an American young man is going to be marrying a German young woman. So what's it gonna be, 'Fathers of the Nation'? Is it going to be sanctioned, or not? Are you going to handle it publicly the way you'd handle any other wedding, regardless of your personal reservations? Or are you going to tell the world what an idiot he is and how the German girl's a worthless gold digger? Scum-not good enough for American blood?'

All the humor faded from his eyes. 'What's it going to be?'

Willie Ray Hudson expelled the breath from his chest. 'Aw hell, Mike. Since you put it that way.' The old farmer leaned back in his chair and cocked his head at Jeff.