Midnight, 11/12 April 1943
Dear Grandfather:
I hope you're sitting down when you open this.
In about two weeks, I'm getting married. To Henry Mallin's daughter, Dorot‚a.
That's the bottom line. It's not open for discussion. I'm doing what I think is the right thing, and that's it.
I don't expect you to understand. And I don't want you calling Henry and threatening him. He's about as unhappy about this as you will be when you get this letter, and there's nothing he can do about it either.
I'm telling you because I love you, and figure you have a right to know.
If you haven't already figured this out, you're going to be a great--grandfather.
Somebody told me yesterday that a newborn melts stone hearts. I really hope he's right.
Love,
Clete
"It came special delivery," the Old Man said. "Mrs. Stevens apparently read it, and then laid it on my desk. Cletus has apparently lost his mind. A genetic defect, I suppose, dormant all these years."
"I suppose I should have known you would say something like that."
"What did you expect me to say?"
"I told myself when I put in the call that I wasn't going to get into a fight with you, and I won't. I called because I need something."
"What do you need?
"I called Pan American Airlines and they told me there's a waiting list with three hundred names on it of people who want to fly to Buenos Aires and don't qualify for a government priority."
"Martha, do you think you can talk some sense to him if you go down there?"
"I need three tickets, Marcus, and I don't want to wait my turn on the wait-ing list."
"Who's going with you?"
"Who would you guess?"
"You're not taking the girls down there? Whatever for?"
"So they can see Clete getting married."
"Did he tell you why he feels he has to marry this Argentine female?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"He didn't tell you, then. He was too ashamed to tell you." "He told you that she's... in the family way?"
"The way he put it was that I am about to be a great-grandfather," the Old Man said. "I can't believe you would want to humiliate the girls, my grand-daughters, by forcing them to-"
"Not one more goddamned word, Marcus!" Martha flared. "Are you going to get me three tickets or not?"
"And if I don't?"
"Then it will be a cold goddamned day in hell before me, or my daughters, ever talk to you again."