“You’ve had an eventful weekend,” he said.
“It was probably exaggerated by the television boys,” I said.
“I don’t believe there was any camera distortion there. Do you?” The acetylene-blue eyes wrinkled again so that it was impossible to read them. “But, anyway, you know John Williams.”
“Mr. Holland,” Williams said, and raised his glass.
“Hi.”
“I’m enjoying your taste in whiskey.”
“Help yourself to a bucket of it,” I said.
“Thank you. I think I will,” he said, and smiled somewhere behind his sunglasses.
“In fact, take a case with you. I have a crate of limes on the back porch to go with it.”
The room was silent a moment. Bailey looked at the floor, his brown windbreaker dark with rain, then went behind the bar and raked a mint julep glass through the ice bin.
“You want water in it, Hack?” he said.
“Give it to Mr. Williams. I’m changing my taste in whiskey.”
“Maybe I had better wait on the porch,” Williams said.
“There’s no need for that,” the Senator said, and his blue eyes moved onto my face again.
“Hell, no,” I said. “That’s a real storm out there, Mr. Williams. Enough to short out all the electric circuits on an ICBM.”
I despised him and what he represented, and I let him have a good look at the anger I felt toward his presence in my home. He finished his drink and clicked his glass on the bar.
“I think it’s better, Allen,” he said.
“Fix John another drink,” the Senator said to Bailey.
“Get some limes, too, Bailey,” I said.
“For one afternoon would you talk without your histrionics?” Verisa said.
“I haven’t had much of a chance to talk today. Bailey has spent the last two hours giving me the south Texas sonofabitch award.”
“This doesn’t have to be unpleasant, Hack,” the Senator said.
“Talking reasonably is beyond him,” Verisa said. “It violates some confirmed principle he has about offending other people.”
“Give Mr. Williams a drink, Bailey,” I said. “See about the pilot, too. I think he’s getting plowed.”
“Well, we won’t drag it out then, Hack,” the Senator said. “The state committee called last night and asked me if we should drop you and run a boy from Gonzales. I told them that we would still carry the district no matter who runs, and I want you in the House in January.”
“That’s good of you, Senator, but I wonder why we all have this intense commitment to my career,” and I looked right through the wrinkled light in his eyes.
“Because I feel an obligation to your father, who was a good friend to me. I think what you’ve done is irresponsible, but with time you’ll probably make a fine congressman.”
“I’m afraid that I’m through with political fortunes.”
“That’s a lovely attitude at this point,” Verisa said.
“I believe Hack is still a little angry with Rio Grande policemen,” the Senator said. “Actually, we may have picked up more of the union vote, and your arrest won’t hurt you with the Negroes and the Mexicans. The important factor is that we make use of it before the Republican gentleman does.”