Different Drummers (18 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

All through January, every time the phone rang, Kathleen hoped it would be Ron. But it never was. Then again, why would he call? It would be a miracle if she ever heard from him again. Had he met somebody else while he was in Atlanta? Oh, he'd told her he'd love her forever, but New Year's Eve was a romantic time and Atlanta a very glamorous city. Anything could have happened. In a way, she hoped he had. God knows he deserved it.

There were days though, when she forgot all about her pledge to herself that she would try to forget him. Sometimes she longed to pick up the phone and talk to him, or even write a letter. But Ron had left no phone number, no address, and Montreal was a big city. How could she ever find him there? In a desperate effort to locate him, she wrote a letter to Dorothy. She got as far as the post office and was about to drop it in the box when she yanked her hand back. Was she out of her mind? There was no way she could let Dorothy know she wanted to get in touch with Ron Velnes.

The weekly letters still came from home, sometimes with snapshots enclosed. Kathleen tried to ignore the lurch in her heart as she looked at the pictures of Kevin and Dorothy. They'd changed so much since she'd been gone. Kevin was going to be a heartbreaker, she was sure of it, and little Dorothy was already turning into a beauty. Her dad wrote that four little tables had been placed in the corner of the bakery and afternoon tea was now being served. But here was the best part, Nina had written. She now had her very own shop. What used to be one-half the bakery's overlarge storeroom had been refurbished into an ultra-modern hairdressing salon. It was good for the bakery business too of course because after the women had their hair done, it was only natural they'd pop in the bakery for a cup of tea and a cake.

Kathleen also kept up a regular correspondence with Georgina Nightingale, telling her only the good things of course. But as time passed, she opened up more and more to Georgina, writing in a sort of off-hand way about Otis's fiery brand of religion. Because of the all-important outfit she'd bought to impress her supposedly snobbish in-laws, Kathleen hadn't told Georgina of the shock she'd received when she first laid eyes on Beulah. But later, she wrote of her affection for her mother-in-law, and when Beulah became ill, Georgina was one of the first to know.

There was no way of course she'd ever tell Georgina the real reason Bob had gone back into the army. Instead she told the same old lie, that he'd reenlisted with the hope he'd be posted to England. But the ever-alert Georgina seemed able to read through Kathleen's lines, and Bob's name was hardly mentioned in her own letters.

Unable to resist the temptation, Kathleen had told Georgina about the phone call from Ron Velnes, and how she'd planned to meet him in Atlanta for New Year's Eve, until Beulah's illness changed her plans. Afraid Georgina would get the wrong idea, Kathleen was careful to stress Ron had gone to Atlanta on business. The temptation to meet someone from home was strong, she'd stressed, and as their relationship had developed into one of friendship anyway, she didn't see anything wrong with it.

Georgina had obviously missed any article that might have been printed in a Chicago paper regarding the woman who'd died in Otis's church. Or if she did, she didn't mention it.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

In March, Kathleen received a call from the army. She sat in a chair close by the phone and leaned her head against the wall when they told her Bob had been wounded in his leg. It was too early to give a prognosis, they said, but every effort was being made to avoid amputation. He was in a hospital in Korea, and yes, they'd be back in touch with her as soon as they had further news.

Kathleen hung up the phone and stared at the floor for a long time. She finally slipped a jacket over her shoulders and crossed the yard to the Tate house.

Mr. Tate surprised her by sounding matter-of-fact. “It could have been a lot worse,” he said. “Bobby's still alive and it looks as if now he'll be out of the whole rotten mess.”

“Yes, I know,” Kathleen muttered. “But what if they have to amputate? I don't know if he could handle that.”

She took a cup of coffee from the ever-faithful Sarah.

“You'll need to get in touch with his family,” Belle said.

Kathleen nodded. “I suppose it'll be all right to tell Beulah. She seems to be getting stronger every day. I'll tell her what you said, Mr. Tate, that it's better than staying on the battlefield.”

She tried to keep her voice steady. “I think a lot of this is my fault. I mean Bob reenlisted because he got fired from his job. It made him terribly insecure. And now he's been wounded and may even lose his leg.”

She picked at a rough spot on her fingernail. “None of this would have happened if he hadn't married me.”

Belle reached for her hand. “You're wrong, Kathleen. None of this is your fault. It's ridiculous to blame yourself. Ever since I've known you, I've admired your strong outlook. Don't lose it now, right when you need it.”

Kathleen clenched her fists tight at her sides. She tried to smile and knew she wasn't quite making it.

“I'm not as tough as I make out. Deep down I've always been a big phony. Every time I go two paces forward I seem to fall three paces back.”

She felt breathless, as if she'd just run a mile. “These last few weeks I've had an awful case of the jitters. I hardly sleep at all and I'm on edge all the time.”

She pulled at her wedding ring. “I have this strange feeling I'm losing control.”

To her horror, the deep breath she tried to take turned into a sob and in a second she was in Belle Tate's arms, crying harder than she'd ever cried in her life.

Eventually she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror over the fireplace. “I can't go to Bennington Street looking like this. What's Beulah going to think? My eyes are swollen and I look as if I've been crying for a week. I need to look cheerful so Beulah won't worry.”

“Nonsense,” Belle said. “You look fine. Tell Beulah you have a cold. Besides, you're entitled to cry. You've just found out your husband's been wounded.”

Mr. Tate nodded. “Belle's right, Kathleen. You don't have to keep that British stiff upper lip for our benefit. That's probably part of your problem. Scream if you want to. God knows, you have a right.”

“Thanks, Mr. Tate. It's just that…”

Belle finished the sentence for her. “It's just that you don't want people feeling sorry for you, isn't it?”

Feeling more tears at the back of her eyes, Kathleen could only nod. Miserable as she felt, she couldn't help but see the improvement in Belle since she'd first gotten to know her. There was an openness, an assertiveness that wasn't there before.

“Get your coat and I'll drive you over to Bennington Street,” Mr. Tate said. “You don't need to be driving over there by yourself, upset as you are.”

Otis Conroy answered their knock, a toothpick protruding from the side of his mouth. He stared at them as if they were strangers, his eyes distant and unwelcoming.

“If you've come to see Beulah, you're wastin' your time. She's asleep.”

Kathleen shivered in the cold air and dug her hands deep into her pockets. “We haven't come especially to see Beulah. Not today. We've…I've had some news about Bob.”

Otis's hostile expression didn't change as he waited to hear what she had to say. “Well, ain't you gonna tell me what it is?”

“Can we come in for a minute?” Kathleen asked, her teeth chattering. “It's freezing out here.”

“You can't stay long.” He opened the door just wide enough to let them pass. “Selma and me are about to leave for church.”

“We don't plan on staying one second longer than we have to,” Mr. Tate said, matching Otis's cold tone.

“What's happened to Bobby? He ain't been busted has he, or gone AWOL?”

Every time Kathleen saw Otis he said or did something that made her hate him more. Why hadn't his first thought been Bob might have been wounded or even killed? Mr. Tate's only son had been killed at another time, in another war, and yet he still grieved for him. How could two men be so very different?

“Well, has he been busted or gone AWOL?” Otis repeated.

Kathleen shook her head. “He's been wounded in his leg. There's a chance they may have to amputate. The man on the phone said they'd be back in touch.”

Like lightning Otis changed his tack. He stared out the window for a full minute, as if digesting what Kathleen had just told him, then turned back to look at them.

“Bobby Conroy's gonna be OK.” His strange eyes smoldered. “I've been wonderin' and wonderin' what Jesus had in mind for Bobby, and now I know. I hear Him tellin' me right this minute, even as I'm lookin' at you, that He wants my son up there in the pulpit, side by side with me. Yes sir and hallelujah, if we ain't gonna be preachin' together. And all in the name of the Lord.”

Kathleen turned away. She was used to Otis and his bizarre ways by now, and most of the time, nothing he said or did surprised her. But if he thought Bob would want to preach in the Holiness Church of Jesus, he could think again. Bob had never shown the slightest interest in his father's type of religion. Hadn't he even married her in a Catholic church without thinking twice? He'd probably laugh right in Otis's face for even suggesting such a thing. If there was one thing she could be sure about Bob, it was this.

Selma came into the room. “Did I hear y'all say something about Bobby being wounded?”

Otis, always cautious now in front of Kathleen about how he spoke to his daughter, never called her “Selma honey” anymore.

“Kathleen says Bobby took some flak in his knee. He's going to be fine though. There ain't no doubt in my mind about that.”

“The army telephoned me,” Kathleen said to Selma. “They…”

“We ain't got no time to be discussin' that now,” Otis said. “Selma and me need to be gettin' on over to the church. I'll tell her on the way.”

He looked at his watch. “We don't want to be late. Get your coat, Selma.”

After three days of agonizing doubts, Kathleen said a prayer of thanks when the military called to say Bob wouldn't lose his leg after all. He was being transferred to a hospital in Hawaii for extensive physical therapy.

She thought often of Otis's wild talk of Bob preaching with him in the Holiness Church of Jesus. Even though she'd scoffed at the idea when Otis said it, a small seed of doubt was creeping into her mind, and the more she thought about it, the bigger the seed grew. She'd seen with her own eyes how Otis's hypnotic style could sway a whole congregation to fever pitch. Was it possible he could do this to Bob? She couldn't help but see the irony of it. If Otis had been an everyday preacher or minister, taking care of his flock, and doing all the things expected of a man of the cloth, she couldn't have been more proud. But Otis wasn't any of these things. He was a sexual pervert. He was also mad as a hatter but crafty enough to hide it. Was it possible Bob would believe his father's wild talk about having a one-on-one chat with Jesus, the topic of conversation being Bob preaching alongside his daddy?

* * *

In April she received a letter from Dorothy who wrote Ron's mother had come into the bakery to ask if Dad would do the catering for a big homecoming party she planned for her son. It seemed he'd met a French-Canadian girl and planned to take her to England so she could meet his family. Ron's mother had gone on to say the most romantic thing had happened. Even though the girl lived in Montreal, Ron had actually met her in Atlanta on New Year's Eve, and how strange life was. It was a whirlwind romance if there ever was one.

Dorothy had written the word beautiful to describe Ron's girlfriend but crossed it out, probably thinking Kathleen would be hurt or jealous. But Dorothy hadn't scratched hard enough and Kathleen could see the offensive word.

Kathleen picked at her nails. Why should any of this that matter to her, she had to ask herself. She had a husband lying in a hospital, wounded while fighting for his country, and here she was, agonizing over Ron Velnes falling in love with somebody else. What did she expect him to do? Moon over her for the rest of his life? That was a joke. Wasn't he, after all, doing exactly what she herself had done?

How would it be when Bob came home? Would there be a chance for them to have a normal life? His mother was ill, and she hated his father and sister. It worried her more and more that Otis would talk Bob into being a preacher just like he was. And the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became Bob would go for it. She reached for a cigarette with unsteady hands. Staring at nothing in particular she took deep drags as she felt the stiff band of anxiety tighten itself around her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

At the insistence of the Tates, Kathleen paid a visit to Dr. Parker.

“Do you think I need to see a psychiatrist?” She tried to sound matter-of-fact but didn't look directly into Dr. Parker's eyes lest she give herself away.

“Maybe, maybe not.” The doctor fiddled with his watchband as he assessed her from the other side of his huge mahogany desk.

Kathleen stared down at her wrinkled skirt, which she hadn't taken the trouble to iron. She'd looked in the mirror that morning, and seen the dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't even bothered to comb her hair or put on lipstick. Tasks that had once been simple or even routine had now taken on monumental proportions.

“You know, guilt is a terrible thing, Kathleen,” Dr. Parker said. “It can destroy you if you let it.”

She gave a little nervous laugh. “Do you think that's what's the matter with me, guilt?”

“Yes, I do. That and a number of other things including change of lifestyle, homesickness, and disappointment.”

“Yes, but…”

“But what? We've given you a thorough examination and can't find one thing physically wrong with you. Outside of these emotional problems you're having, you're as healthy as a young filly. But you won't be for long if we don't do something about it.”

Kathleen slumped deeper into the brown leather chair and chewed on her lower lip. The fears and dark moods had been with her for months, but always before she had broken free. She buried herself in her work at
The Eddisville Gazette
, a job she truly loved. She visited the Tates, went to see Beulah whenever she could, or laughed over nothing at all with Freddie. Now though, the tricks didn't work and she felt herself sinking ever deeper into a quagmire of anxiety.

She didn't think Dr. Parker had some miracle cure up his sleeve to mend her shattered nerves. The only reason she'd come to see him at all was to stop Freddie Conroy and everybody else asking her was she feeling OK because she certainly didn't look it. And also, because the Tates had insisted, even going so far as to make the appointment for her.

She twisted her handkerchief around her fingers and avoided the doctor's probing eyes. “You're right about the guilt, I suppose. I just can't shake the feeling Bob wouldn't have reenlisted if it hadn't been for me, and now he's lying wounded in some hospital half a world away.”

“How long are you going to blame yourself for all this?” the doctor said sternly. “Have you ever considered the possibility that even if your husband hadn't lost his job, he might have reenlisted and ended up in Korea anyway?”

His voice softened. “You're being too hard on yourself. Who do you think you are, Superwoman?”

“Not now I don't. But I used to.”

“Yes, and I think that's where the trouble lies. You've tried very hard but things have gone wrong anyway. Suddenly your nerves are screaming at you that they've had enough. This is your body's warning system sounding its bell. You should pay attention. If you don't, you could fall into a pit so deep it may take years to get you out.”

Dr. Parker pulled the last cigarette from the crumpled pack on his desk, slowly lit it, and leaned back in his chair. “William told me he's offered to give you time off to get yourself straightened out but that you felt better at work.”

Kathleen nodded. “He's been kindness itself. He's even asked Patsy Ashcraft to come in and help out until I feel better. I don't know how he puts up with me.”

“He does it because he cares. He's told me all about the improvement he's seen in Belle since she found a friend in you.”

The doctor scribbled something on his prescription pad, tore off the page, and handed it to her. “I want you to take this to the drugstore. It's for a new medicine that's only recently come on the market. It may or may not work but let's give it a try. Don't expect miracles right away. It'll probably be at least three weeks before they take effect.”

Kathleen was leery as she stared down at Dr. Parker's illegible handwriting. She'd never bothered much with pills of any kind.

“They won't turn me into a sleepwalker, will they?”

“No. They won't take away your problems either but should make it easier for you to cope.”

The doctor stubbed out his cigarette and moved the ashtray to the credenza behind him.

“William said Nate Simpson's offered you the use of his beach place.”

Kathleen nodded. “I'm not sure it'll do me any good. Won't I just be taking all my troubles with me?”

The doctor shrugged. “Perhaps. Let's wait and see if these pills work. If they do, I'd recommend you drive on down there. It can't hurt. Nate's place is a little bit of heaven, let me tell you. He's generous with it and we've all used it from time to time.”

“It sounds nice,” she said faking a grin, aware at the same time of the hint of hysteria in her voice. Her mind was racing, loaded with questions for which she had no answer. What would it be like when Bob came home? Would Otis talk him into preaching at the Holiness Church of Jesus? Would she have to spend the rest of her life avoiding her father-in-law?

Dr. Parker closed the cover of her file, indicating the visit was at an end.

“Take two pills a day, one in the morning and the other at night, and I want to see you back here in a month's time.”

* * *

Kathleen was convinced of the power of Dr. Parker's pills just three weeks after taking the first one. Already she was sleeping better and her appetite was coming back. Now the idea of a trip to the beach became enticing. She remembered once again the letters she'd received from Bob's phantom letter-writer, filled with vivid descriptions of the beautiful Carolina coast. But the real Bob hated the beach and if she didn't go before he came home, it might be a long time before she got the chance again.

She pulled out the scrap of paper on which Georgina Nightingale had written her phone number more than a year ago while they waited for a taxi outside the Hillshire Hotel in New York. She gave the number to the long distance operator and listened to the phone ringing.

“Good morning. This is the Nightingale residence.”

“May I speak to Georgina please?”

“Kathleen? My God, is it really you?”

“Georgina? Yes, it's me all right. But how did you know?”

She thrilled as she heard Georgina's happy laugh after all this time.

“Are you kidding? I would have recognized that voice anywhere. There's nobody I know with an accent like that and you haven't picked up even the slightest trace of a Southern drawl.”

Kathleen giggled, unprepared for the therapeutic effect of her friend's voice. “I know. I tried it but it all came out wrong.”

“Gosh, but it's good to hear your voice. Everything's OK down there isn't it?”

“Yes, everything's fine. I just got to thinking about you, and well, here I am.”

She heard her friend's sigh of relief.

“I had to make sure before we talked. You said in your letter Bob had been wounded, and well, you know…Beulah's OK isn't she?”

“Yes, yes,” Kathleen said quickly, anxious to calm Georgina's fears. “Beulah seems to be getting stronger every day, in spite of what the doctors told us. And Bob's so much better. It shouldn't be long before he's home. Isn't it wonderful? I can't wait to see him.”

“He's been gone a long time,” Georgina said, her tone letting Kathleen know she'd never thought much of Bob in the first place.

“Yes, more than a year,” Kathleen said, her voice beginning to tremble. “We'll probably be like strangers when he gets back.”

“You sound uneasy about this, but you shouldn't be. It won't take you long to get back on track.”

“No, you're right. It won't take any time.”

There was a pause.

“Kathleen, are you OK? You sound, well, sort of edgy.”

“I don't mean to, but yes I am a bit jittery. I wasn't going to tell you but I don't see how I can avoid it. I've been ill, Georgina, and I'm not well yet. Oh, it's nothing serious,” she said, trying not to give herself away, but unable to stop the trembling in her voice. “Just a bad case of nerves.”

There was no mistaking the concern in Georgina's voice. “I've thought about you so much, Kathleen, and wished we'd lived closer to each other. It hasn't been easy has it? Even though I know you tried to hide it when you wrote, I could read between the lines.”

Kathleen twisted the phone cord in her hand. Georgina didn't know the half of it.

“I've managed to keep on working through most of this,” Kathleen said, “although I think sometimes Mr. Tate wanted to boot me out the door. My doctor said it's too many changes in my life in too short a time.”

“That sounds about right,” Georgina said. “Your body's telling you to be nice to it, or else. You have to listen to your body talk.”

Kathleen laughed her first proper laugh in ages and felt the tightness in her shoulders ease. “You haven't been having a word with Dr. Parker have you? He more or less said the same thing. So, my body's telling me to go to the beach for a few days and finish pulling myself together.”

She hesitated. “This is the real reason I'm calling, Georgina. You don't suppose there's a chance in a million you could get away and join me there, do you? It would be wonderful if we could get together and hash over our time on the ship and the fun we had in New York.”

“Oh God, Kathleen, I wish I could. But there's no way I can leave right now. I'm up to my eyes at work. I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be,” Kathleen said. “It's not your fault and let's hope there'll be other times.”

“Ah, what the hell,” Georgina said in that way Kathleen remembered. “Maybe I can make it, even if it's just for a couple of days. Hang on while I grab a sheet of paper and a pencil.”

Within a few seconds she was back. “You never know what may happen. If I could get away at the last minute and didn't have directions, I'd kick myself for evermore. Do you know which airport I should fly into?”

Kathleen smiled into the phone. Georgina was really going to try to make it. “Myrtle Beach Airport is no more than thirty minutes away by car. If you can come, I can pick you up at the airport. But you'll have to let me know before I leave here, because there's no phone at the beach house.”

“I'll try, but you'd better give me directions, just in case. You don't know the hectic sort of job I have. If I can get away at the last minute, I'll rent a car at the airport.”

“OK,” Kathleen said. “It's called Carey's Beach. It's a small, secluded place a few miles south of Myrtle. Just keep going south on Highway 17. You can't miss it. The house is right on the ocean, three houses down from the pier.”

“When are you going?”

“Next Saturday morning. That'll give me a week to get ready. I'll come back to Eddisville sometime the following week.”

As she talked to Georgina of her plans, Kathleen realized her friend had responded exactly as she'd hoped. No questions were asked as to why she'd practically gone to pieces. After all, shouldn't she really be on cloud nine because her husband would soon be home from Korea?

“I'll try my best to get there,” Georgina said. “You're right, we'll have a ball.”

Kathleen laughed. “Wouldn't we though. You'd be better than any pills, Georgina. Even talking to you on the phone is like a shot in the arm. If it didn't cost so much, we could talk on the phone every week.”

“Thanks, Kathleen,” said the caring voice. “Just quickly before you go. Did you ever hear any more from Ron Velnes?”

“No, I never heard another thing.”

She looked through the window and saw Freddie Conroy pull into her driveway.

“Georgina, it looks like I've got company, so I'd better go. If you don't get to the beach, take care of yourself.”

“You too. I'll call you in a few days if I know something for sure.”