Honor Bound (Honor Bound 1)

And now wine, on top of the whiskey, Clete thought.

“This is an occasion. I have the honor to introduce my son, Cletus, late Teniente of the air service of the Marine Corps of the USA.”

And fatherly pride and charm on top of the wine. Mi Coronel, mi Papá, you are a clever sonofabitch, aren’t you? What I would like to do is just walk out of here. But I have a feeling I should stick around. Maybe I can learn something from you.

“A great privilege and honor, mi Teniente,” the headwaiter said. “El Coronel would prefer some of the French?”

“French or Argentine, Cletus?”

“Argentine, please,” Clete said.

“I personally believe our wines are superior—the stock I keep here at the club is from a small vineyard the family has an interest in—but I am of course prejudiced.”

“The Argentine wine I’ve had so far has been great,” Clete said.

“And we are known for our beef, too,” Frade said. “Might I suggest a lomo? With papas fritas?”—a filet mignon and french-fried potatoes. “And a tomato and onion salad?”

“Sounds fine, thank you.”

“One should not eat heavily in the middle of the day,” Frade declared. “It slows the blood, and thus one’s ability to think clearly.”

“Yes, Sir, I agree.”

When a waiter delivered the bourbon, Frade ordered their meal.

“One day,” he said, “I hope you will find the time to tell me about Guadalcanal. As a soldier, I am of course interested.”

I guess that’s Question Number One.

“Yes, Sir. I’d b

e happy to.”

“Will there be time? When will you return to the United States?”

And that’s Question Number Two.

“I don’t know. I’ll be here indefinitely.”

“I did not know that,” Frade said. “Cletus, certainly you cannot take advantage of Señor Mallín’s hospitality indefinitely.”

“No, Sir. I don’t intend to. Señor Mallín has found an apartment for me. I’m to move in tomorrow.”

“Where?”

“Posadas 1354 Piso sexto.”

“That’s absurd,” Frade declared, and belched. “I beg your pardon.”

What the hell does that mean?

“The Guest House is yours,” Frade declared with a grand wave of his hand. “For as long as you’re here.”

“Excuse me?”

“It will be perfect for you,” Frade said. “All it does most of the time is sit there and eat up my money anyway. It’s settled.” He then had a second thought. “Unless, of course, it is not to your liking.”

“Sir, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”