“That doesn’t make it any better.”
“It’s probably better. Quick.”
“Like having a tooth pulled?”
“Yes,” she said. “Get up and get dressed, sweet Jimmy.”
—
Elsa kissed him in the elevator.
“Write me,” he said. “Promise?”
“If I can.”
She’s not going to write me.
—
The elevator door slid open.
“Oh, my God!” Elsa suddenly said. “Hansel!”
“Am I glad to see you!” Hans-Peter von Wachtstein said, his voice breaking.
He put his arms around Elsa.
“You presumably are Lieutenant Cronley?” Colonel Mattingly asked.
“Yes, sir,” Jimmy said, then his eyes went to the others.
After a long moment, Jimmy said, “Don’t give me that funny look, Cletus. You’re the one wearing that ridiculous Mexican bus driver’s uniform! What the hell are you up to?”
“Jimmy!” Cletus Frade said. “You little sonofabitch!”
Mattingly looked between them.
“May I presume from that exchange, Colonel Frade, that you are acquainted with Lieutenant Cronley?”
Neither replied. They moved closer and hugged each other.
When they finally broke apart, Frade said, “Jimmy, this is Colonel Bob Mattingly of the OSS. Colonel, not that I wanted it this way, he happened to live next door, this is Jimmy Cronley, the next thing I have to a little brother.”
“He’s been corrupting my morals since I was in short pants, Colonel,” Cronley said.
Hans-Peter von Wachtstein then put in: “Elsa, this is my best friend, the best man at my wedding, Cletus Frade.”
“And godfather to his child,” Frade added, offering his hand. “Has my little brother been taking good care of you, Frau von Wachtstein?”
“Oh, yes,” Elsa said. “He’s been very kind and thoughtful. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”
“Then thank you, Lieutenant,” Hans-Peter von Wachtstein said. “Thank you very much.”
“My pleasure,” Cronley said, suddenly aware of his choice of words.
“Into the dining room,” Mattingly ordered. “If you plan to take off before noon, Cletus, we’re running a little late.”
“Take off for where?” Cronley asked.