Read Online The Edge of Honor by P. T. Deutermann - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: P. T. Deutermann
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tonight?”
“Oh, Tizzy, don’t be ridiculous. Really. I just meant …”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, look—it’s ten-thirty. Let’s say midnight back here at the car. After midnight, they’re all so drunk, they, uh
…”
It was Maddy’s turn to cock her head to one side.
“Yes, Tizzy? Something you want to tell me?” To remove any implied criticism, she half-smiled when she said it. But she was a bit curious.
Tizzy grinned and looked down, smoothing her dress over her legs. “Well, not exactly,” she said. “Although if something fun came up, er, along—I mean, I might not be opposed to going somewhere to party a little bit.
Just for a while. You know.”
“Tizzy, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” said Maddy, her expression suddenly serious. “We don’t really belong here, and I’ve got to get home at a reasonable hour. So do you—we have jobs, remember?”
Tizzy made a face. “Oh, Maddy, ease up. I just want to go in and have a glass of wine and dance a little—it’s so crowded in there, you can just let yourself go, dance with whomever turns up; everyone’s anonymous.
You’ll see. Pretend for a little while that you’re not some old married hag stuck in an empty apartment for the next half a year. MCRD’s always got a great band. You want to, you can just sit and watch, although I’ll bet you don’t.
Anyway, if we do get split up, I promise I’ll meet you back here at the car around midnight and I promise to get you home. It’s not like your husband’s going to call and check up on you or anything.”
“Okay, but I’m serious about the witching hour.”
Tizzy rolled her eyes. “Yes, dear.”
They left the car and joined the stream at the main entrance, small groups of two or three women and a similar number of young officers, each group trying to eye the action without seeming to do so. The noise from the band and the exuberant crowd within washed over them as Maddy and Tizzy stepped through the front doors. The entrance portico led to a large hallway, rest rooms, and offices to the right and a large combination dance floor and main bar to the left. The hallway was crowded with people milling about or going to and from the rest rooms, and groups of men were standing along the wall, talking, smoking cigarettes, and holding drinks.
Maddy noticed that the standees were not being at all discreet about appraising the women, making comments, whistling, or expressing feigned horror at the talent coming through the front door. The entrance to the bar itself was packed with people looking for tables, partners, or both.
They had to wait in line for several minutes before they could get near the doorway leading to the dance floor. When the standees finally noticed them, they actually drew some cheers as they moved up to the doorway.
Maddy flushed; Tizzy smiled and winked. Two large Marines immediately put down their drinks, detached themselves from the standees, and swooped down, taking Maddy and Tizzy by the hand without a word. They pushed through the crowd at the doorway, which parted according to the unwritten rule that people with partners had priority over those who were still window-shopping.
Maddy lost Tizzy as soon as they reached the dance floor, and after shouting something about Bob in her ear, her Marine launched into a frenetic dance routine that exactly matched the tempo of the bombastic noise coming from the bandstand. Maddy gave it her best shot, but her experience with dancing to rock-and-roll music was limited. Brian liked the soft and slow stuff, but this music, with its overwhelming bass beat, jangling electric guitars, and incomprehensible lyrics, was definitely of the hard-and-fast variety. And it was nonstop; once a set began, the band segued into each new number while the final crashing chords of the last song were still buzzing in the speakers.
The room was larger than she’d thought, but with over two hundred people packed inside, it was hot
“Oh, Tizzy, don’t be ridiculous. Really. I just meant …”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, look—it’s ten-thirty. Let’s say midnight back here at the car. After midnight, they’re all so drunk, they, uh
…”
It was Maddy’s turn to cock her head to one side.
“Yes, Tizzy? Something you want to tell me?” To remove any implied criticism, she half-smiled when she said it. But she was a bit curious.
Tizzy grinned and looked down, smoothing her dress over her legs. “Well, not exactly,” she said. “Although if something fun came up, er, along—I mean, I might not be opposed to going somewhere to party a little bit.
Just for a while. You know.”
“Tizzy, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” said Maddy, her expression suddenly serious. “We don’t really belong here, and I’ve got to get home at a reasonable hour. So do you—we have jobs, remember?”
Tizzy made a face. “Oh, Maddy, ease up. I just want to go in and have a glass of wine and dance a little—it’s so crowded in there, you can just let yourself go, dance with whomever turns up; everyone’s anonymous.
You’ll see. Pretend for a little while that you’re not some old married hag stuck in an empty apartment for the next half a year. MCRD’s always got a great band. You want to, you can just sit and watch, although I’ll bet you don’t.
Anyway, if we do get split up, I promise I’ll meet you back here at the car around midnight and I promise to get you home. It’s not like your husband’s going to call and check up on you or anything.”
“Okay, but I’m serious about the witching hour.”
Tizzy rolled her eyes. “Yes, dear.”
They left the car and joined the stream at the main entrance, small groups of two or three women and a similar number of young officers, each group trying to eye the action without seeming to do so. The noise from the band and the exuberant crowd within washed over them as Maddy and Tizzy stepped through the front doors. The entrance portico led to a large hallway, rest rooms, and offices to the right and a large combination dance floor and main bar to the left. The hallway was crowded with people milling about or going to and from the rest rooms, and groups of men were standing along the wall, talking, smoking cigarettes, and holding drinks.
Maddy noticed that the standees were not being at all discreet about appraising the women, making comments, whistling, or expressing feigned horror at the talent coming through the front door. The entrance to the bar itself was packed with people looking for tables, partners, or both.
They had to wait in line for several minutes before they could get near the doorway leading to the dance floor. When the standees finally noticed them, they actually drew some cheers as they moved up to the doorway.
Maddy flushed; Tizzy smiled and winked. Two large Marines immediately put down their drinks, detached themselves from the standees, and swooped down, taking Maddy and Tizzy by the hand without a word. They pushed through the crowd at the doorway, which parted according to the unwritten rule that people with partners had priority over those who were still window-shopping.
Maddy lost Tizzy as soon as they reached the dance floor, and after shouting something about Bob in her ear, her Marine launched into a frenetic dance routine that exactly matched the tempo of the bombastic noise coming from the bandstand. Maddy gave it her best shot, but her experience with dancing to rock-and-roll music was limited. Brian liked the soft and slow stuff, but this music, with its overwhelming bass beat, jangling electric guitars, and incomprehensible lyrics, was definitely of the hard-and-fast variety. And it was nonstop; once a set began, the band segued into each new number while the final crashing chords of the last song were still buzzing in the speakers.
The room was larger than she’d thought, but with over two hundred people packed inside, it was hot
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