Word of Honor by Nelson DeMille Page A
Authors: Nelson DeMille
Tags: Fiction, General, LEGAL, Suspense, Mystery Fiction, War stories, Vietnam War; 1961-1975, Vietnamese Conflict; 1961-1975
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is all pussy food. Yogurt, lettuce, strawberries.
He closed the door.
Marcy spoke. "Two incidents. Hue and Griffith Park, occurring about the same time. What did the New York Post say? Something about the irony of Marcy making love while
82 * NELSON DEMILLE
Ben made war. Christ, give me a break. " She smiled. "You know you've arrived when the papers start calling you by your first name. And as a journalism major and a public relations lady, I can tell you, Mr. Tyson, you ain't seen nothin' yet." She finished her second Grand Marnier, and Tyson noticed her eyes had taken on a glazed duck A Forange look.
Tyson sat on his stool at the breakfast counter. "Funny, I haven't had that nightmare since this began."
"Why should you? You're living it. 'Life is a dream in the night, a fear among fears, a naked runner lost in a storm of spears.' Arthur Symons. "
She filled his half-empty coffee cup with Grand Marnier.
"Thanks," Tyson said to his wife. "We have got to get David out of here as soon as the school term is finished. The kid must be going through hell, but he hasn't said a word. "
Marcy nodded.
Tyson sipped on his coffee, laced with orange liqueur. David, he knew, had been aware of the infamous photograph long before this. In fact, about a year before, Tyson had found David sitting on the floor of the den with the original Life magazine spread out on his lap, staring at the picture of his mother.
Tyson had chosen not to let the incident pass without comment. Some days later, he'd sat David down and given him a brief sociological lecture on the Age of Aquarius. It was odd, he'd thought, that a middle-aged man had to defend his generation's looser morality to a teenager. But morality, like war and peace, was cyclical. Victorians did not approve of the morality, clothing, or literature of the Georgian age that preceded theirs.
David's gener-ation, while certainly not prigs, were nevertheless not quite as loose as their parents once were.
David had listened, nodded understanding, but something told Tyson that the boy did not approve, not only of the nude picture but of his parents'
life-style.
Tyson realized that he himself affected a certain sophistication regarding the photograph, Marcy's past in general, and the marital relationship.
Marcy had once observed to friends, "Ben has become more liberal and less inhibited,
WORD OF HONOR e 83
and I've become more conservative in my middle age. That's the story of the nineteen eighties." ,
Tyson understood, too, that he was titillated by Marcy's past, as well as by her present job, which brought her into close contact with successful men. There were the business trips, the breakfasts, lunches, late dinners, late office nights, and the publicity events. There were ample grounds for jealousy, and in fact there had been some rather intense discussions on occasions when Marcy had staggered home in the small hours of the morning.
The one thing this marriage did not suffer from was boredom. He said to her, "You're handling this well. And you're right. You don't need this."
She poured a third drink. Her voice was slightly slurred. "For better or for worse. That's what the hell it's all about. " She thought a moment, then added, "You're handling it quite well, too. I . . . I always respected you . . . but there were times . . . you know, when I felt you were wishy-washy. I guess I promoted that . . . I never wanted to emasculate you . .
. never. . . . And I'm glad to see you show real balls . . . I mean, adversity builds character, right? We all need a little stress to feel alive . . . it can strengthen us and our marriage . . . but too much stress and strain . . . " She tipped the glass back, drank, and suppressed a belch. "I don't know."
Tyson nodded. Marcy, he knew, was a self-assured woman. And she was alive, and where there was life there were problems.
He looked at her. "I just remembered that time I brought Kimura, Saito, and their wives here for dinner. And you
He closed the door.
Marcy spoke. "Two incidents. Hue and Griffith Park, occurring about the same time. What did the New York Post say? Something about the irony of Marcy making love while
82 * NELSON DEMILLE
Ben made war. Christ, give me a break. " She smiled. "You know you've arrived when the papers start calling you by your first name. And as a journalism major and a public relations lady, I can tell you, Mr. Tyson, you ain't seen nothin' yet." She finished her second Grand Marnier, and Tyson noticed her eyes had taken on a glazed duck A Forange look.
Tyson sat on his stool at the breakfast counter. "Funny, I haven't had that nightmare since this began."
"Why should you? You're living it. 'Life is a dream in the night, a fear among fears, a naked runner lost in a storm of spears.' Arthur Symons. "
She filled his half-empty coffee cup with Grand Marnier.
"Thanks," Tyson said to his wife. "We have got to get David out of here as soon as the school term is finished. The kid must be going through hell, but he hasn't said a word. "
Marcy nodded.
Tyson sipped on his coffee, laced with orange liqueur. David, he knew, had been aware of the infamous photograph long before this. In fact, about a year before, Tyson had found David sitting on the floor of the den with the original Life magazine spread out on his lap, staring at the picture of his mother.
Tyson had chosen not to let the incident pass without comment. Some days later, he'd sat David down and given him a brief sociological lecture on the Age of Aquarius. It was odd, he'd thought, that a middle-aged man had to defend his generation's looser morality to a teenager. But morality, like war and peace, was cyclical. Victorians did not approve of the morality, clothing, or literature of the Georgian age that preceded theirs.
David's gener-ation, while certainly not prigs, were nevertheless not quite as loose as their parents once were.
David had listened, nodded understanding, but something told Tyson that the boy did not approve, not only of the nude picture but of his parents'
life-style.
Tyson realized that he himself affected a certain sophistication regarding the photograph, Marcy's past in general, and the marital relationship.
Marcy had once observed to friends, "Ben has become more liberal and less inhibited,
WORD OF HONOR e 83
and I've become more conservative in my middle age. That's the story of the nineteen eighties." ,
Tyson understood, too, that he was titillated by Marcy's past, as well as by her present job, which brought her into close contact with successful men. There were the business trips, the breakfasts, lunches, late dinners, late office nights, and the publicity events. There were ample grounds for jealousy, and in fact there had been some rather intense discussions on occasions when Marcy had staggered home in the small hours of the morning.
The one thing this marriage did not suffer from was boredom. He said to her, "You're handling this well. And you're right. You don't need this."
She poured a third drink. Her voice was slightly slurred. "For better or for worse. That's what the hell it's all about. " She thought a moment, then added, "You're handling it quite well, too. I . . . I always respected you . . . but there were times . . . you know, when I felt you were wishy-washy. I guess I promoted that . . . I never wanted to emasculate you . .
. never. . . . And I'm glad to see you show real balls . . . I mean, adversity builds character, right? We all need a little stress to feel alive . . . it can strengthen us and our marriage . . . but too much stress and strain . . . " She tipped the glass back, drank, and suppressed a belch. "I don't know."
Tyson nodded. Marcy, he knew, was a self-assured woman. And she was alive, and where there was life there were problems.
He looked at her. "I just remembered that time I brought Kimura, Saito, and their wives here for dinner. And you
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