“How’s he doing?”

“Early days yet,” George said evasively. Bobby had been elected as the senator from New York, and George was one of his close aides. George felt that Bobby was not adjusting well to his new role. He had been through so many changes—leading adviser to his brother the president, then sidelined by President Johnson, and now a junior senator—that he was in danger of losing track of who he was.

“He ought to speak out against the Vietnam War!” Maria clearly felt passionately about this, and George sensed that she had been planning to lobby him. “President Kennedy was reducing our effort in Vietnam, and he refused again and again to send ground combat troops,” she said. “But as soon as Johnson was elected he sent thirty-five hundred marines, and the Pentagon immediately asked for more. In June, they demanded another one hundred seventy-five thousand troops—and General Westmoreland said it probably wouldn’t be enough! But Johnson just lies about it all the time.”

“I know. And the bombing of the north was supposed to bring Ho Chi Minh to the negotiating table, but it just seems to have made the Communists more resolute.”

“Which is exactly what was predicted when the Pentagon war-gamed it.”

“Did they? I don’t think Bobby knows that.” George would tell him tomorrow.

“It’s not generally known, but they ran two war games on the effect of bombing North Vietnam. Both showed the same result: an increase in Vietcong attacks in the south.”

“This is exactly the spiral of failure and escalation that Jack Kennedy feared.”

“And my brother’s eldest boy is coming up to draft age.” Maria’s face showed her fear for her nephew. “I don’t want Stevie to be killed! Why doesn’t Senator Kennedy speak out?”

“He knows it will make him unpopular.”

Maria was not willing to accept that. “Will it? People don’t like this war.”

“People don’t like politicians who undermine our troops by criticizing the war.”

“He can’t let public opinion dictate to him.”

“Men who ignore public opinion don’t remain in politics long, not in a democracy.”

Maria raised her voice in frustration. “So no one can ever oppose a war?”

“Maybe that’s why we have so many of them.”

Their food came, and Maria changed the subject. “How is Verena?”

George felt he knew Maria well enough to be frank. “I adore her,” he said. “She stays at my apartment every time she comes to town, which is about once a month. But she doesn’t seem to want to settle down.”

“If she settled down with you, she’d have to live in Washington.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Her job is in Atlanta.”

George did not see the problem. “Most women live where their husband’s job is.”

“Things are changing. If Negroes can be equal, why not women?”

“Oh, come on!” George said indignantly. “It’s not the same.”

“It certainly is not. Sexism is worse. Half the human race are enslaved.”

“Enslaved?”

“Think how many housewives work hard all day for no pay! And in most parts of the world, a woman who leaves her husband is liable to be arrested and brought home by the police. Someone who works for nothing and can’t leave the job is called a slave, George.”