BooksBarbecue
Back The Fall of Valor Save as PDF
Chapters (51)
  1. Introduction by Michael Bronski
  2. BEGINNING
  3. II
  4. III
  5. IV
  6. V
  7. VI
  8. VII
  9. VIII
  10. IX
  11. X
  12. XI
  13. XII
  14. XIII
  15. MIDDLE
  16. II
  17. III
  18. IV
  19. V
  20. VI
  21. VII
  22. VIII
  23. IX
  24. X
  25. XI
  26. XII
  27. XIII
  28. XIV
  29. XV
  30. XVI
  31. XVII
  32. XVIII
  33. XIX
  34. XX
  35. END
  36. II
  37. III
  38. IV
  39. V
  40. VI
  41. VII
  42. VIII
  43. IX
  44. X
  45. XI
  46. XII
  47. XIII
  48. XIV
  49. XV
  50. XVI
  51. About the Author

The dining room gazed with frank appreciation at the handsome Marine captain and his beautiful wife. Forewarned by Ethel, Miss Fly had given them a table near an open window so that the visitors could admire the view. She beamed at the Grandins and their guests, then proudly surveyed the surrounding tables to see whether other guests had taken note, as if she were directly responsible for giving the diners this added treat. Two or three nodded by way of acknowledging her coup. The yellow-­haired young man, his shoulders hunched so high they almost touched his ear lobes, stared at the Grandin party, lost in unfathomable reverie.

“Gee, it’s nice being out here in Sconset,” Hauman said, as if they had just arrived. His three cocktails, which he had downed at a gulp as being in the nature of ladylike drinks, were taking effect. “Isn’t it nice being out here, Billie honey? I wish we lived at Dune House too. Why don’t we? I love a big dining room like this, don’t you? Gee you ought to have seen my daddy’s face when he saw our mess hall down at Parris Island. But that room wasn’t as big as this, I’ll bet. I don’t think it was nearly as big as this. Well, maybe. Say, I better order. Have you ordered, Billie honey? Oh excuse me! I’m forgetting! You first, Ethel.”

A moment later, Grandin saw Hauman frowning over his soup, his brow furrowed in thought.

“What are you worried about, Cliff?”

“Me? I’m not worried about anything! Nothing in the world. I’m not worried at all. Look, there’s Mr. and Mrs. Howard down to the other end of the room.” He angled for their glance, shifting his big frame back and forth, and waved. “Gee, they’re comical people, aren’t they? Aren’t they nice people, Billie?” He put his spoon down and frowned again. Then it came out. “Look, John,” he said, hitching in his chair as if to emphasize the seriousness of the matter, “I want to know your honest opinion. But honest, you know what I mean? I want you to tell me the truth, even if it hurts our feelings. Promise?”

“I will if I can,” Grandin said uneasily. “What is it?”

“Now listen. Tell us what’s your honest opinion of Billie’s chances as a writer. You’ve read her compositions and stuff. Now I mean, I’ve always said I’d never stand in the way of my wife’s career and I mean it. If she wants to become a writer, why then she should. Don’t you think so?”