A Small Buffet In Maldita
September, 1967
They got me to Marian Delmore's party, in the end--but only under duress and over my own dead body.In the beginning I thought I'd beaten the rap. It was our first morning in the finca, or country house, that we'd rented in what turned out to be a gringo-riddled Mexican town. Polly, along with our son, Jock, and the cook, had driven off to market to buy staples. I was alone, sitting under an old pepper tree in the patio, at one of those round, hide-topped tables whose design hasn't changed since...
