"Get a grip, Monty!" he told himself. "Quit behaving like a teenager, and act your age!"
It was hard to tell which of them was more ill at ease. Although Roberto was on a first-name basis with Monty, Mercedes retained some ancestral deference to large landowners and could not bring herself to use his first name. She also had little contact with him: she was hired to clean his house, but she always did that while he was out on the ranch. This was one of the first times they had been together alone, and she was clearly nervous about addressing him, too nervous even to be conscious of the scantiness of her clothing. On his part, Monty was still in shock over the sudden revelation of the incredible figure possessed by this woman living here. He decided that he would seem awfully unfriendly if he looked away while she was talking, and he couldn't trust himself to look at any part of that body, so he looked her in the eyes and said, encouragingly, "Yes, Mercedes? Did you want something?".
"I got a letter from my seester in Fresno. She's going to have a baby thees weenter, and they're having a party thees weekend. Do you theenk Roberto and me, we could go?" she asked.
"Oh, sure, yes, Mercedes, you guys go and have fun. I'm going up to San Francisco for a couple of days, but I should be back by Thursday, so tell Roberto to go ahead and leave Thursday, or even Wednesday, if you want. Go and have fun, and I'll see you back here Monday or Tuesday," replied Monty, so relieved to have the conversation over with that he was hardly conscious of what he was saying. Good thing she didn't ask for anything really important, he thought. I probably would have said yes just to get out of here.
"Oh, thank you, Meester Marteen!" she exclaimed, but Monty had already turned and was heading rapidly toward the house.
"You're welcome, Mercedes," he tossed back over his shoulder, afraid to look back. Afraid that like Lot's wife, he'd turn into a pillar of salt - or a pillar of something, he thought. And thank you, Mercedes, he thought also, for a sight I will never forget. I sure hope Roberto knows just what a lucky man he is.
But there was no lust in his heart. Like a car buff who can walk around a Ferrari and devour it with his eyes, yet never touch it, and perhaps not even desire to drive it, Monty could admire the perfection of the girl he'd just seen without wanting to possess her. Of course, if she were unmarried and otherwise unattached, and if she were a also little older or more sophisticated so that she considered them equals, he would have been interested, and certainly strongly attracted physically. But he had always been a reader, and perhaps the old English novels with their outmoded morals had provided some influence. His parents were not Puritans, but they had held strong ideas about right and wrong, and those precepts had been handed down to their son. As a result, Monty had never engaged in the locker-room macho sexual talk of many of his teenage peers, and had always treated women with respect. Mercedes was married, and that put her entirely out of reach, even as far as thinking about her in a sexual way.