Terms of Endearment

by Larry McMurtry

  “Looked ever’where for it,” he said morosely, hoping Rosie would understand.

  Rosie was plain touched. “That’s all right, Royce, quit worryin’ about that shoe,” she said. “Your ankle’s broke an’ you wouldn’t be able to wear it anyhow. We got to get you to a hospital.”

  Then, to Royce’s great surprise, Rosie put her arm around him. “Little Buster asked about you, hon,” she said softly.

  “Aw, Little Buster,” Royce said, before relief, embarrassment, fatigue, and beer overwhelmed him. Soon, though, he was completely overwhelmed. He put his head on his wife’s familiar slate-hard breastbone and began to sob.

  In that he was not alone for long. Many of the women and even a few of the men who had gathered around forgot that they had come out to tear Royce limb from limb. At the sight of such a fine and fitting reunion the urge for vengeance died out in the crowd’s collective breast. A number of women began to sob too, wishing they could have some kind of reunion. Darrell, the owner of the ill-fated Pontiac, decided to forgive Royce instead of stomping him, and went off with his girl friend to continue the argument they were having over whether “titty” was an okay word. Bobby and John Dave shook their heads and accepted ten of Vernon’s one-hundred-dollar bills as collateral against whatever the damages might total up to be. They realized that, once again, the East-Tex Hoedown had been a big success. The two policemen went back to their bowel movements, Vernon started an unsuccessful search for F.V., and Mitch McDonald, Royce’s best buddy, immediately went to a phone booth to call Shirley and tell her Royce had gone back to his wife. He made it clear that he had nothing but forgiveness in his heart, and hinted rather broadly that his own, very own, old thing was aching to have Shirley come and sit on it again. To which Shirley, who was filling beer pitchers with her free hand at the time, said, “Sit on it yourself, you little tattletale. I got better things to do if you don’t mind.”

  Rosie knelt by her husband, gratefully receiving the warm sentiments of the crowd. Many a woman leaned down to tell her how happy she was that she and her husband had got it all straightened out. Royce had cried himself to sleep against her breast. Soon an ambulance with a siren and a revolving red light screamed up and took Royce and Rosie away, and then two big white wreckers came and got the Pontiac and the potato chip truck. Some of the crowd straggled back through the hole in the wall to talk things over, others drifted off home, and many stayed where they were—all of them happy to have witnessed for once, such passion and compassion. Then, when all was peaceful, a spongy raft of clouds blew in from the Gulf, hiding the high wet Houston moon, and the clouds began to drop a soft, lulling midnight drizzle on the parking lot, the cars, and the happy, placidly milling crowd.

  CHAPTER XIV

  1.

  THE NEXT morning Aurora was downstairs early, merrily making her way toward breakfast. She was not so much making it as compiling it from a number of exotic leftovers and a new omelette recipe she intended to try. She was watching the Today show with one eye and thinking to herself what a good idea it had been to reduce her load of suitors, since it meant she didn’t have to attend to such a confusing battery of morning calls. Without the calls she was able to make much better breakfasts, and she could not remember anything that had been said on any of the calls that could compete with food.

  Just as she was tasting some plum jelly to see if it was holding its flavor the General came through the back door and slammed it resoundingly.

  “Hector, it’s hardly the door of a tank,” Aurora said mildly. “It’s not made of plated steel. How are you this morning?”

  “You’ll find out,” the General said. He immediately poured himself some coffee.

  “Where’s the paper?” Aurora asked, switching off the Today show to watch him a minute.

  “It’s in the goddamn yard, if it’s been delivered,” the General said. “I’m not in the mood for it just now.”

  “No, I can see that you’re in a snit,” Aurora said. “Naturally you would decide to be in a snit on a brilliant morning when I happen to be in a wonderful mood and could be talked into almost anything. There’s not a bit of telling what I could be talked into if only I had a cheerful man for five minutes.”

  “Well, you don’t,” the General said succinctly.

  “Tsk, tsk, what a waste,” Aurora said. “Go back and get the paper then.”

  “I told you once I wasn’t in the mood for it,” the General said, taking his place at the table.

  “I heard you once and your mood is quite irrelevant to the issue at hand,” Aurora said. “It’s my paper and one of your little obligations under the terms of our new arrangement is that you bring it in to me in the morning. I am always in the mood for it, since there seems to be little else to do with you around.”

  “I’m sick of your sexual innuendos,” the General said. “What do you think life is?”

  “It could be very nearly a pure pleasure if men weren’t such spoilsports,” Aurora said. “I refuse to take this bad mood of yours seriously, Hector. Just go get me the paper, please, and I’ll make you a delicious omelette and we’ll start over on the day once we’ve eaten.”

  “I won’t get you the paper,” the General said. “If I get it you’ll sit there and read it for two hours, singing opera. I don’t sing opera when I read the paper and I don’t see why you should. You shouldn’t read and sing at the same time. I particularly don’t want to watch you read and listen to you sing right now, because I’m very annoyed and I want some answers.”

  “My God, what a pill you are,” Aurora said. “I’m beginning to wish I had some of my other suitors back.”

  Without further ado she went out the back door and got the paper. The sun was high and the grass was shining with water from the midnight rain. A gray squirrel was sitting on her lawn, very erect and evidently not at all discomfited by the wet grass. He was often on her lawn in the mornings, and Aurora sometimes said a word or two to him before going back in.

  “Well, you’re a pleasing sight,” she said. “If you were only a little tamer you could come in and have breakfast with me. I have lots of nuts.”

  She picked a few flowers, wet though they were, and went back to the kitchen, hoping the General’s mood had improved in her absence.

  “I was talking to a squirrel, Hector,” she said. “If you took more interest in animal life you might be a jollier man. The only animals you ever see are those spotted dogs you’re so fond of. Frankly, those dogs are not terribly well behaved.”

  “They are perfectly behaved around me,” the General said. “They are wonderful animals, I do not want any others, and I do not want to be a jollier man.”

  “Oh, Hector, what do you want then,” Aurora said, flinging down her paper. His scratchy tone was beginning to irritate her exceedingly.

  “Tell me,” she said. “I must confess it’s more than I can figure out. I’m wearing my new red robe and it’s a wonderful morning and I had a nice breakfast planned. I was quite prepared to go to unusual lengths to please you today, just to see if we could get through one day without you being surly, but now I see it’s hopeless. If you’re going to be surly you might at least tell me what you fancy you have to be surly about.”

  “F.V. never came home,” the General said. “He wasn’t there this morning. I had no one to drive my car, so I couldn’t go on my run. I’ve been waiting for him for two hours. The dogs are frantic. They get very upset when they don’t get their exercise.”

  “My goodness, Hector, you could just turn them loose,” Aurora said. “They could just run around like normal dogs. I wouldn’t think it would hurt you to miss your run now and then. You’re too skinny as it is. Much as I admire you for keeping up your standards, I do think you could lower them a bit now that you have me to entertain you.

  “As for F.V.,” she added, “I don’t see why you should worry. F.V. will turn up.”

  “I don’t think so,” the General said darkly. “F.V.’s always there. He knows what
’s expected of him. He’s worked for me six years and he’s never been late before.”

  “Hector you have two legs,” Aurora said. “If you were so desperate to run why didn’t you just run? You’ve been doing it for years. It seems very unlikely you would choose just this morning in which to have a heart attack.”

  “There are times when I despise the way you speak,” the General said. “You choose your words too well. I could never trust you.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Aurora asked. “You seem to be a churning mass of non sequiturs today, Hector. Obviously you intend to blame me for everything that’s gone wrong in your life, so why don’t you just go on and blame me and then we can have breakfast. I don’t like to eat while I’m being criticized.”

  “All right then, it’s Rosie,” the General said. “I think she’s responsible for the disappearance of my chauffeur. She took F.V. to the dance last night and now he’s not here.”

  Aurora opened the paper to the society page and scanned it hastily to see if any interesting parties had taken place, or if the daughters of any of her friends had gotten engaged.

  “Now I understand,” she said. “You think Rosie’s seduced F.V.—that’s what you’ve decided is my fault. What remarkable gall you have, Hector. Rosie’s never displayed the slightest interest in F.V.”

  “Where is she then?” the General said. “It’s time she was at work, isn’t it? Where is she?”

  Aurora turned to the financial page and peered at it closely to see if any of her stocks had risen or fallen. The fact that the print was so small made it very hard to tell, but she found one that seemed to have risen and she took that as a good sign.

  “You don’t care,” the General said. “You’d rather read the paper. You don’t really love me, do you Aurora?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” Aurora said. “You haven’t even mentioned me so far this morning. I was feeling very attractive for a while and now I hardly know what to make of anything. You men have an unfortunate tendency to muddle me, if you want the truth. I don’t think I particularly want to love anyone who’s only intent on muddling me.”

  “You see, you’ve avoided my question,” the General said.

  Then, abruptly, he noticed again how beautiful she was, and he forgot about his annoyance with F.V. and quickly scooted his chair around to her side of the table. Her color was high and the General decided his run had been well lost. He saw there was no hope of resisting her and buried his face in her hair, since it concealed most of the neck he suddenly felt compelled to kiss.

  “Ah, mon petite,” he said, nuzzling. He had always understood that French was the language of love.

  “It’s amazing how often passion merely tickles,” Aurora said, wrinkling her nose in slight dismay and going on with her reading. She looked down at the top of the General’s bald head and felt life to be more ridiculous than ever. Why was such a head trying to kiss her neck?

  “Also, Hector, you really would do better to address me in English,” she said, hunching one shoulder to relieve the tickling sensation. “Your French is rudimentary at best, and you should remember what a stickler I am for having matters put well. A man with a really elegant command of the French language, or any language for that matter, could no doubt seduce me in an instant, but I am afraid you will have to depend on something other than eloquence. A man who sounds like he’s sawing wood in his voice box does just as well to keep silent.

  “And don’t start talking about time’s winged chariots, either,” she said when the General drew back a moment and opened his mouth to speak. “Just because you read one poem doesn’t mean I have to respond to it, does it? Come to think of it, where is Rosie? She’s so harassed these days, you know. One of her children could have had an accident. I think I ought to call.”

  “Don’t call,” the General said. “I can’t resist you. Think of all those lost years.” He did his best to crowd onto the chair Aurora was sitting on, but it was only a kitchen chair and he ended up half on hers and half on his.

  “What lost years?” Aurora said. “I certainly didn’t lose any. I’ve had a perfectly good time every year of my life. Just because you waited until the age of sixty-seven to learn how to enjoy yourself doesn’t give you the right to accuse me of losing years.”

  “You were so friendly when I first came in,” the General said. “Now I’m not hungry and I can’t wait.”

  Aurora looked him in the eye and laughed heartily. “Pooh,” she said. “I admit I enticed you but now I think I prefer to save you for the evening. I’m not exactly dealing with a stripling, am I?”

  Then, seeing that he was too confused to defend himself properly, she was forced to relent. She laid down her paper and gave him a few nice squeezes. “This will teach you not to be surly with me when I’m feeling flirtatious,” she said. “At this late hour nothing takes precedence over breakfast. Why don’t you go run some cold water over yourself while I cook. Missing your run seems to have overheated you.”

  The phone rang, and the General flinched. “We never get to have breakfast without the phone ringing,” he said. He flinched because the sound of the phone was all it took to remind him of how attractive Aurora was, and how many other men wanted her. Even though she had assured him she was giving them all up now that she had him, the General felt he had good reason to hate the phone.

  “What are you talking about, Hector?” Aurora said. “This is only the second morning we’ve had breakfast together, and thanks to your sulks we haven’t even had it yet. It’s not the phone’s fault.”

  She answered it, watching him closely. Obviously he thought it was a rival calling, when in fact it was only Rosie.

  “Why hello, you old darling,” she said, as if she were speaking to a man. The top of the General’s head grew red, and Rosie grew silent, at which point Aurora laughed merrily again. At least having the General in her life made for a few laughs.

  “Well, now that I’ve had my little joke how are you, Rosie?” she asked.

  “You never called me darlin’ before,” Rosie said.

  “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “Because of Royce,” Rosie said. “Ain’t you read the paper?”

  “No, I’ve not been allowed to,” Aurora said. “Don’t tell me I’ve missed something.”

  “Yep,” Rosie said. “Royce found out about me an F.V. goin’ to the dance. He drove his truck through the wall of the dance floor, trying to get at us. He smashed up the place good and then had a wreck an’ broke his ankle. We was at the hospital half the night. Vernon paid for it all. It’s all on page fourteen, down near the bottom.”

  “Oh, no,” Aurora said. “Poor Vernon. I must have cost him almost a million by now, directly or indirectly. I certainly wasn’t worth it, either.”

  “Ask her what happened to F.V.,” the General said. He didn’t want the conversation to linger on Vernon.

  “You hush,” Aurora said. “Where is Royce now?”

  “He’s in bed, playin’ with Little Buster,” Rosie said. “That child sure favors his daddy.’

  “So you’ve taken him back,” Aurora said.

  “I don’t know if I have or not,” Rosie said. “We ain’t talked about it. Royce just woke up. I thought if you didn’t need me real early I’d maybe try to find out what’s on his mind.”

  “Oh, by all means, take your time,” Aurora said. “Your marriage comes first, and anyway Hector and I have done nothing but fuss at one another all morning. I don’t know when we’ll get around to eating. I’m fainting from starvation now. Where’s Vernon?”

  “Where’s F.V., you mean,” the General said. “I’ve asked you twice to find out about F.V.”

  “What a pest,” Aurora said. “General Scott insists on knowing what you’ve done with his chauffeur. Do you have his chauffeur or don’t you? F.V. seems to be more essential to his life than I am, so it would oblige me very much if you could give us a clue to his whereabouts.”

  “M
y God, what did become of him?” Rosie said. “I guess I just forgot about him.” Then she remembered that her husband was right in the next room, and she became embarrassed.

  “She just forgot him,” Aurora said to the General. “Evidently there was something of a fracas. You can read about it on page fourteen of the paper, near the bottom.”

  “I bet he left town,” Rosie whispered. “I can’t talk, on account of Royce.”

  “Correction—she now believes F.V. has left town. Goodbye, Rosie. Come over and tell me what’s happened when you can. In all likelihood Hector and I will still be sitting here bickering.”

  “I don’t like to hear you mention that man’s name,” the General said when she hung up.

  “I can’t think why you should care,” Aurora said. “After all, I never slept with him.”

  “I know, but he’s still around,” the General said.

  Aurora lowered her paper and looked all around the kitchen, turning her head slowly, like a searchlight. “Where?” she said. “I don’t seem to see him.”

  “I mean he’s still in Houston,” the General said.

  “Yes, it’s his home,” Aurora said. “Do you want me to drive the poor man from his home just to please you?”

  “You never say poor Hector,” the General countered.

  “All right, that’s it,” Aurora said, getting up. “Now I’m going to cook and I’m going to sing, and when I’ve finished we can go on with this, if we must. You sit there and read the paper like a normal male and after breakfast we’ll see if you’re feeling any nicer.”

  “While you cook I’m just going to run back home and see if F.V.’s there,” the General said.

  “Go on, then. It’s amazing what lengths you’ll go to to avoid hearing me sing.”