Bill and Tippy Ochoa. Friends to Becky before the divorce. He speaks, she nods assent: head, eyes, and mouth all move in union and in approbation. Almost a rehearsal speech it seems. Set phrases. Pauses for emphasis. Brief silence. Etc. The Ochoas are well-known to the listener; Klail City, after all, is Klail City.
I couldn’t believe it; let’s say I didn’t want to believe it. And with all of that education, right. Incredible. Why, I ask you? Why did she do it? To go live with … with him. Not the same social class, not at all … I must say that at one time neither Tippy nor I were in Becky’s class either, but through hard work and dedication one forms friendships, one is invited here, there … One can’t possibly remain where one starts out. A matter of natural progress, that’s all.
Oh, Becky would still be accepted in our circle, no doubt about that, but to marry like that, and to leave Ira? Unwise, wouldn’t you say, Tippy? (Eager assent of the head.)
And to think that a Navarrete married to an Escobar blooded to Leguizamón-Leyvas would divorce him and thus lose hundreds of friends? Hundreds of connections? That’s quite impossible to understand, am I right, Tippy? (T. nods; Bill Ochoa is then rewarded with a smile.)
I have always said, and I’ve given it some thought, too, if there is no structure, there can’t be any form. In brief, society can’t exist, the world as we know it would crumble. Society, respect for institutions, for good manners, the right touch, you understand? That’s how people should live. One’s people, you understand. Am I not right, Tippy? (A wink from T.)
Let’s see. What kind of a married life can Becky and … and? her new husband expect? I happen to know that he has been known to go into one of those cantinas now and then, those neighborhood cantinas. This is not to say he’s a drunkard, by any means … But, why doesn’t he drop in at Chip’s or at Cap’n Easy’s? A lounge is not a cantina; everyone knows that.
I happen to know that Becky’s husband owes a certain loyalty to the Buenrostro family, and that he drinks at those places because his cousin, the policeman, invites him, asks him there. But that doesn’t make it right, either. It looks bad.
Mr. Apolinar Tapia, the Notary Public, is absolutely right when he says that to frequent those places is bad form, is to cause a break in the situation of things. The Notary, that’s one of his official duties, goes in those places to witness depositions and such. It’s part of his job, and it’s through him that we learned that Becky’s husband goes there. Tippy and I happen to believe firmly that a banker of that rank and status shouldn’t be seen in those places. Isn’t that true, Love? (Moue and smile from T.)
It must be painful for doña Elvira Navarrete de Caldwell having to hear, having to learn this at second hand. Thank the Lord she doesn’t have to witness her new son-in-law going to those places …
But then, having to know and making comparisons between Ira and him must be a fate worse than Hell itself.
What vice is that? Why the desire and penchant to return to those places? When he was poor, that was understandable. Is it that he is uncomfortable in nice places? No, that can’t be it, can it? I mean, not if he’s a banker who can go anywhere he likes … If I was in banking, people would sit up and take notice, I’d make sure of that … But who am I to complain? Tippy and I own and operate three gift shops, plus the flower shop and some rentals, right, Dear? (The cutest smile followed by the sunniest grin imaginable; a brunette Doris Day, say.)
The listener is not a censor, by any means or stretch. The conversation was brought short by business and by a delivery boy who needed help in the loading and unloading of stock items bearing the “B and T Enterprises” logo.