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They'd no sooner reached their place than the United Daughters of the Confederacy float rolled by, with Lottie and her pantaloons evoking comment.

Harry heard Roger O'Bannon yell to a bystander, “Give me twenty bucks and I'll dump them all on the road.”

Laughter greeted this offer. Lottie ignored it, of course.

Spurred on by the laughter Roger stuck his head farther out of the truck, artfully concealed by the float. “Hey, Lottie, why don't you ditch the hoop?”

“Shut up, Roger.”

“You'd better be good to me. I'm driving this boat.” He laughed loudly. She ignored him again so he catcalled, “Lottie, oh, Lottie Pearson.”

“Roger, for God's sake, watch where you're going.”

They were cruising close to the side of the road.

“Just trying to get you girls a nice cold drink.”

Danny Tucker, Susan's son, rushed up, two drinks in each hand. The ladies eagerly reached down.

“How did women wear these things?” one young lady grumbled, for the finery was heavier than anything she had ever worn before.

“They didn't wear them every day,” Lottie snapped, then remembered her attention should focus on the crowd. She smiled big and waved, then she saw, really saw, Diego Aybar. Her smile froze. She recovered and continued to ignore Roger, whose suggestions grew ever more risqué.

By the end of the parade the mood of the participants and the crowd was even more elevated than at the beginning. The reason for this was that the Veterans of Foreign Wars had a small brass band with two snares and they peeled out of the parade as it ended, marching and playing all the while. They marched straight into a small bar where they continued to hold forth.

BoomBoom was taking a Polaroid of Don Clatterbuck and Roger at the float. The “belles” had all fled. The minute she clicked the picture both men made a beeline for the bar.

“Is it always like this?” Diego asked.

“More or less, which means either they're more drunk or less.” Harry smiled.

“Ah yes.” He smiled back at her and it was obvious he liked her. There weren't a lot of women like Harry hovering about the embassy. She intrigued him. “You know for us the seasons are opposite. Spring fever comes in late October and early November.”

“I imagine it's beautiful in South America.”

“Yes—not every centimeter but—yes.”

“Did BoomBoom give you today's schedule?”

“We are to go to a tea party. BoomBoom wanted me to meet you in the garden. She suggested I see the parade and meet you afterward but I wanted to meet you as soon as possible and I'm glad I did.”

“Me, too. I guess BoomBoom wanted us to meet in the garden because I'd have a dress on. I rarely do.” Harry blushed for a moment. “The truth is I'm 'most always in jeans.”

“Señorita, you are beautiful no matter what you wear.” He bowed his head slightly.

“Oh, this is good.” Tucker happily drooled.

Harry burst out laughing. “Mr. Aybar—”

“Diego.”

“Diego, you are very kind.” She took a deep breath. “We have a few hours before dressing for the party. If you'd like I could drive you around, show you a bit of the county. I don't think there's any way we could get to Monticello and back on time, though.”

He held up his hand. “I have seen it. Mr. Jefferson has my full admiration.”

“Cruise?”

“Cruise.” He echoed her word. Diego was a quick study.

And cruise they did, chatting all the while. She drove by estates, apple orchards, cattle farms. To her delight she learned that the Aybars maintained a residence in Montevideo but the family had an estancia where they bred cattle.

Diego, educated at Duke, studied law at Yale and then studied back home in Uruguay. His father propelled him toward diplomacy but his heart was in farming.

“I'm at a crossroads.”

“And your father will be upset?”

“Ballistic.” Diego smiled wanly. “Family is, oh, I can't say more important in my country but tighter, a deeper sense of obligation, perhaps. Here the job comes first—or so it seems to me. Home, it's family. And like everything, that's both good and bad. You see, we have ruling families and they ask not what is best for Uruguay but what is best for the family.”

“I think I understand. And you come from such a family.”

“My father and grandfather would like to think so.”

“Perhaps the weekend can take your mind off your crossroads.”

“Or help me make a decision. One hates to disappoint one's family, no?—but one hates to violate one's self.”

“Entire novels have been written about that.” Harry turned back toward the mountains. “Where is Thomas Steinmetz?”

Diego replied, “He had some business to attend to but will be at the tea. You must know that your county is overflowing with retired ambassadors, diplomats, senior officials, and senior officers of the military.”

By the time Harry dropped Diego back at the guest house at BoomBoom's place, they had learned a lot about one another. Perhaps the most important thing was that they both had a sense of humor.

The phone rang as Harry struggled with her panty hose.

“How do you like Diego?” BoomBoom asked.

“He's handsome and charming.”

“I thought you'd like him. His passion is farming.”

“Yes, we discovered that. Are you calling me just to find out if I like him?” Harry remained suspicious of Boom.

“Well, no. I need your help. Roger O'Bannon insulted Lottie Pearson and she's mad at me anyway—all the more so since she laid eyes on Diego. I asked Aunt Tally if she might disinvite Roger and she wouldn't hear of it, but you know how Aunt Tally likes a scene. I thought you might speak to her. She likes you better than she likes me.”

“BoomBoom, since when are you solicitous of Lottie Pearson? There's more than you're telling me.”

“No, really there isn't. I was hoping to spare Aunt Tally a scene.”

“For God's sake, BoomBoom, as you said, Aunt Tally lives for a scene.” Harry started to laugh.

“You're right. I contradicted myself.” BoomBoom sighed deeply. “I was hoping to spare myself.”

Aunt Tally was about to get her scene all right but it wasn't the one BoomBoom anticipated.

9

In order for a Virginia party to be a success certain things must occur. First, someone has to leave in tears. Second, someone has to pass out due to overindulgence. Third, there has to be a fistfight, and last, someone has to fall in love.

If pressed on these qualities most Virginians would decry the fistfight, the tears, and the drunkenness, but not Aunt Tally. Forthright about life being theater, or at least her parties being theater, she mixed her guests like water and sulfuric acid, then waited for the explosion.

Her advancing years only whetted her appetite for drama. Her beloved yet criticized niece, Big Mim, said it was because Aunt Tally had no sex life. She stirred up other people's hormones.

Upon hearing this, Tally snapped, “Of course I have no sex life. There are no men over ninety and those under ninety won't look at me. You find me a beau and I'll wear him out. I'm still hell in bed, Marilyn, and don't you forget it!”

“Dear God, spare me,” Big Mim murmured through her frosted-bronze lipstick.

This was said in front of Reverend Jones, Miranda, Susan and Ned Tucker, as well as Lottie Pearson, who arrived early so as to mix with the older crowd, ever trolling for major donors to the university. There was no way Big Mim could be spared.

“Well, what are you all staring at with your mouths hanging open? Catch flies that way.” Tally flicked out her silver hound's-head cane at the assembled. Before she could further berate the small gathering, the doors were flung open and everyone else seemed to arrive at once. The O'Bannons, extremely merry, roared in. Roger wore a sprig of mint in his sports coat for reasons known only to himself and Jim Beam. Sean kissed Aunt Tally repeatedly. She was loath to let him go.