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Show •96 "Men," she said. The single syllable flew around the room like an ugly bird. "You just had to have him, did you? There wasn't another one in all of Tucson would do?" She nodded to herself. Both my wife and her aunt had the salesman's habit of answering their own questions. "I suppose not." She sighed; the golden glasses rose and fell. "Well, we'll have to make the best of what we've got here, then." She opened the door and beckoned to one of the maids. "A pot of black coffee and one cup. Pronto." She turned to Mary-Ellen. "How's he doing in school, at least?" "I'm doing as well as can be expected," I said. She looked down at me without affection. "Sam Madrigal says that you ask too many questions. It interferes with the class. The other students don't like you much. What about that?" Mary-Ellen touched my hand. "He's more intelligent than they are, that's why they don't like him." "Hmm " Maybelle eyed me more closely. "Intelligence is no excuse. But I'm happy to see you can work up some loyalty in your wife. She's a good little girl." Her voice got softer and her face became gloomy. Mary-Ellen rearranged her hair, looking at herself across the room in the mirror. I fell back on the bed with my hands behind my head. This Maybelle was a very tough old broad but I could see that |
