“She’s coming,” Marie said.
“I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m … here!” Janna dashed into the room, smoothing her hair back with wet palms. She was as tall as Marie, but much thinner. She was an outdoor girl and was happiest when she was astride her horse, riding for pleasure or helping the hands with the cattle. “Hi, Kathleen. I didn’t know you were here.”
Kathleen loved every member of this family. She had felt at home with them as soon as she met them, which was before she and Johnny were married. Johnny had felt nothing but anger when he learned seven years ago that Barker was his father. Having endured taunts since childhood that his father had been a drunken Indian, Johnny could not accept Barker’s explanation of why he had been left all those years with a mother who was a whore. The pain was too deep.
While he and Kathleen were together, he had warmed to the family a little; but when the strain in his marriage occurred, he had begun avoiding being with them.
Johnny, Johnny, you’re missing so much. You could be a part of this family, if only you’d forget how you were conceived and let them love you.
Chapter Three
The truck is at Johnny’s. Marie and I left it before he could come out and make a fuss.” Barker took a heavy box from Kathleen. “Where do you want this?”
“In the backseat:”
“What do you have left to bring down?”
“The only heavy thing is my typewriter.”
“I’ll get it.”
Kathleen had carried suitcases and boxes down to the Nash, swearing that never again would she live in a place where she had to carry anything up or down a steep, rickety stairway.
“This is everything,” she said later, as Barker placed her typewriter on the front seat of the car. “I’ll be glad to see the last of this place. I’ll go tell Adelaide I’m moving.”
The three of them walked down the alley and went into the back of the Gazette building. In the pressroom, Paul and Judy were looking at the pictures she had taken at the depot and during the parade. Kathleen’s eyes feasted on the two pictures of Johnny: one as he stepped off the train and the other a close-up of him smiling down at Judy.
“These are good, Judy. You’ve turned out to be quite a good photographer.”
“What did you expect?” Paul said with a smirk. “She had a darn good teacher.”
“There’s nothing modest about this guy.” Judy winked at Kathleen. “I’ll make copies of the pictures of Johnny for you. Would you like copies, Mr. Fleming?”
“I sure would. Could you make them about … so big?” He held his hands about eight inches apart.
“They should blow up to eight-by-tens and still be clear. If they are grainy, I’ll make five by sevens.”
“Listen up, you-all. I’ve got news.” Adelaide came from the front office. Her Oklahoma drawl was always pronounced when she was excited. “I just heard that a new doctor is coming to take over the clinic.”
“It’s about time. Rawlings has been without a doctor for almost three years.” Paul continued to trim the photos. “The old man who replaced Dr. Herman died on us.”
“This one is a veteran who was injured in Italy. He’s fully recovered and is ready to practice. Claude came by and told me.”
“Did Claude say why he chose Rawlings?” Barker asked. “Every town around is begging for a doctor.”
“All I know is that Claude was contacted by Mr. Gif-ford, the attorney general. He asked Claude what he planned, as mayor, to do about the clinic and told him about a crackerjack of a young doctor who wanted to start a practice. Claude said that we were eager for the clinic to be reopened and that if Mr. Gifford recommended him, the doctor was bound to be all right.”
“Gifford isn’t one to make a recommendation lightly.”
Barker’s remark went unheard by Kathleen as her mind wandered back to when she first arrived to work at the Gazette. She remembered Dr. Herman, who had been mayor, a cold-hearted monster with such a hold on the town that no one dared to do anything without his permission.
“Has anyone heard anything about Louise Munday?” Kathleen wondered what had happened to the big blond woman who had been Dr. Herman’s nurse.
“She must still be serving her ten-year sentence for helping Dr. Herman with his little scheme. Want me to ask Daddy about her?”
“Don’t bother. I really don’t care as long as she stays away from me. Adelaide, I came by to tell you I’m moving to one of the houses owned by the tannery. It’s the last house on the road going west.”
“A small white house with the porch on two sides?”
“That’s the one. I’ve got the Nash loaded. Barker said he’d stop here and get my trunk in a day or two.”
“I’m glad you found a better place, although it was nice having you so close. Do you have everything you need?”
“Before I leave, I’ll go to the five-and-dime and get a couple of plates, a cup or two, a pan and a skillet. That’s about all I need.”
“You’ll not go to the five-and-dime. Paul and I will be down this evening. I have plenty of extras.”
Tears sprang to Kathleen’s eyes. Her heart had been pounded to a pulp and her emotions so mangled that tears were always near the surface these days. Her only escape was to force her numb mind to come up with a sassy retort.
“Feed Paul before you bring him. My cupboards are bare.”
“I’ll pick up a block of ice and follow you down to the house.”
“I don’t have anything to put in the icebox, Barker.”
“It’ll be cold when you do.”
“But, Barker, you don’t have to—”
“You might as well give up and let him have his way.” Marie laughed and grasped Kathleen’s arm. “Once Daddy gets the bit in his teeth there’s no stopping him.”
“I’m beginning to find that out.”
Barker headed for the door. “Marie and I will help you unload, then I’ve got to get out to the tannery. See you later, folks.”
Before she got into her car, Kathleen said, “I don’t want to like that little house too much. I may be moving on.”
“Oh, I hope you stay, even if you and Johnny … don’t work things out.” Marie’s expressive face creased in a worried frown.
“I’ve no hope of that, Marie. No hope at all.”
Above the drugstore the man watched both cars leave the alley.
She’s moving into the house the Indian took her to last night. Having her down the hall has been wonderful for me, but she’s too bright and lovely to have to spend time in that dingy place.
I knew the minute I saw her that she was the one. Since that time she’s been all that has made my life worth living. I live only to be near her. Someday she will really look at me, see that I love and cherish her, and will love me back … I know it.
By noon, Kathleen had put her things away and made her bed. Her mind returned constantly to Johnny. She was unable to get used to the thought that he was so near, yet so far away. He looked like the same flesh-and-blood Johnny she had married, but older, somehow different.
She herself was not the same, she thought, as she drove to the store. She hadn’t realized how much until she looked at the wedding picture. She had wanted to take it from the ranch house, wanted badly to take it, but remembered that Johnny had paid the photographer with silver dollars he had won at the rodeo. After the divorce she would ask him to let her have it.
Her mind was so busy that she sat in her car in front of the grocery for a long moment. They had been so in love. At least she had been. Her mind had been his, her heart his, her body his, just as his had been hers. She had been sure that they would be together always. How could the feelings they’d had for each other vanish because the child they had together had been less than perfect? The love he professed to have for her had not been lasting. She just must face that fact and go on. People didn’t die of broken hearts … or did they?
Suddenly the thought that Johnny could be in town today occurred to her. Anxiety
cut through her. She scanned the street for Barker’s track, then dashed into the store. She needed to be calm when she came face-to-face with him, and she certainly didn’t want to be wearing this grubby old dress and dirty white sandals.
Fifteen minutes later she carried two sacks of groceries to the car and hurried back to the sanctuary of the little house. Kicking off her shoes, she put the milk, eggs, and butter in the icebox and the rest of her supplies in the cupboard above the sink.
A sudden rap on the door startled her. Barker was back. He had promised to come turn on the gas and light the water heater. Kathleen raked her fingers through her hair, looked around for her shoes and didn’t see them. Oh, well, he had seen her barefoot before.
She didn’t see the tall figure in the cowboy hat until she reached the door. He was standing on the edge of the porch with his back to the house. She gaped, unable to utter a sound, incapable of accepting that Johnny was just a few feet away. Panic struck fresh and sharp. Her heart I began to pump like a piston. Her first thought was to turn and ran out the back door. She feared it would take more courage than she possessed to face him and hear him say that he wanted to be rid of her. Shaken to the core, she was unaware that a small sound had come from her throat.
Hearing it, he turned. His face seemed frozen. His dark, intense eyes beneath the brim of his old hat were fixed on her face. From somewhere the realization came to her that he was wearing a shirt that she had ironed two days before.
Oh, God! Oh, God! A strange sensation began seeping rapidly through Kathleen’s mind, a fuzziness, a distant humming noise sounded in her ears. She sucked in her breath.
“Hello, Kathleen.” The pounding in her ears made the words seem to come from far away.
“Hello.” Her throat was tight, and she just barely managed the word.
They stared at each other through the screen door. It seemed an eternity before he said, “May I come in?”
Unable to speak for the chaos raging in her brain, she pushed on the door. He pulled it open and stepped into the small room and took off his hat. Kathleen backed up and turned away. Suddenly it was too much for her. She felt the tears and couldn’t bear for him to see them.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
She stepped into the bedroom then darted into the bathroom, closed the door, and leaned against it. She had mentally rehearsed the meeting with him a thousand times during the past four years, and never had she imagined it would be as devastating as this. She wet her face with her hands and dried it. Not wanting to see how terrible she looked, she avoided the mirror, picked up a brush, and smoothed her hair.
Going back through the bedroom, she paused in the doorway. He was sitting on the edge of the couch. Her eyes clung to him as he flicked a match and put it to the cigarette he held between his lips. The light shone for an instant on his dark face. He drew deeply on the cigarette, and the end flared briefly. Before he blew out the match he raised his lids, and she had a glimpse of steady dark eyes.
“Looking for your shoes?” he asked quietly.
She nodded, came into the room, and sat down on the edge of the chair across from him. She had regained control. Her mouth was taut, and there was an air of unconscious dignity about her poised head. She clasped her hands in her lap and pulled her bare feet back close to the chair as if to hide them.
“You always liked to go barefoot.”
“I was raised on a farm. Remember?”
“I remember a lot of things.” His eyes held hers while he drew deeply on the cigarette.
“I’m sorry. It was rude to run out. I didn’t mean to behave like that. It was the strain of … moving … the uncertainty of … things and seeing you so suddenly.”
“How did you plan to behave?”
She lifted her shoulders, trying to encompass a world of explanation with the silent gesture.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I went by the Gazette. Adelaide told me.”
“I couldn’t stand that room above the drugstore. Barker told me about this house being for rent and I grabbed it. I bought the furniture … for a song.”
“Does Barker own the house?”
“The tannery does.”
“Same thing.”
“I pay my way. I don’t expect you, Barker, or anyone else to feel obligated to help me.” Her eyes were wide and dry. She was startled by her own tone of voice and her bluntness.
“You haven’t changed. You still don’t need anyone.”
“I needed you … once.” The words burst from her. She hadn’t meant to say them and tried to soften them, by saying, “You look good. Maybe a little thinner.”
“You should have seen me after Guadalcanal. 1 sweated off so many pounds that I looked like a walking bag of bones.”
“I watched the paper for news of your battalion. The only time I saw it mentioned was when you covered the Japs with the bulldozer. I have the clipping if you’d like to see it.”
“Hell. That was overblown. The newsboys needed something to stir up the folks back home so they’d buy War Bonds.” He looked around for a place to put the ashes from his cigarette. Kathleen hurried to the kitchen and returned with a cracked saucer she had found beneath the sink.
“I don’t have an ashtray or dishes yet. Adelaide is going to lend me some.”
“Still don’t smoke?”
“I never acquired the taste for it.”
“Why didn’t you take the dishes out at the ranch? They’re just as much yours as mine.”
“Your friends gave them to us. You should have them.”
A long, silent minute went by before he spoke. “How did you like working at Douglas Aircraft?”
“How did you know that?”
“Was it a secret?”
“No. I just didn’t think you knew where I was. Adelaide said you didn’t ask her, and she didn’t tell you.”
“She didn’t. Were you Rosie the Riveter?”
“I worked in the payroll department. We paid twenty thousand people every Friday. I could work as much overtime as I wanted, so I usually worked ten or twelve hours a day.”
“I heard that the defense workers made a pile of money.”
“I wanted to do my part to help end the war.”
“Commendable of you,” he said dryly.
He seemed to be studying her, seldom took his eyes from her face. It made her nervous.
“Did you see your name on the sign on the courthouse lawn? Over four hundred went to the service from this area.”
“Some of them didn’t come back.”
“Thank God, you did. I said a prayer for you every night and hung a banner with a star on it in the window.”
“Thanks,” he said, and looked away from her.
“I wanted to write.”
“No stamps?”
“I didn’t know where to send it.”
“Henry Ann would have given you my address.”
“Would you have read it?”
“A man away from home gets pretty desperate for mail.”
I wrote you a thousand letters in my mind. I would have mailed them, but couldn’t bear the thought that you might return them unopened.
“I just came from the bank.” Johnny’s voice broke into her thoughts. “From the size of the account, you didn’t use any of the family allotment money the government sent you.”
“I didn’t need it.”
“Didn’t want even that from me, huh?”
“That wasn’t it at all. I was getting along on what I was making and saving a little. I knew you’d need money to get started again.”
“Why didn’t you send me the divorce papers?”
“I didn’t think it was right to divorce you while you were over there fighting for our country.”
“Several of the men in my battalion got Dear John letters from wives who wanted a divorce.”
“I’m sorry if you were disappointed that you didn’t get one.”
Her words penetrated h
is cool armor. He was getting angry. Lines around his mouth became deeply etched, and his nostrils flared. She knew the signs.
“Did you find someone else?” The words seemed to be snatched out of him.
She saw that he was waiting for an answer to his question. Her mind was too confused to tell him anything but the truth.
“No. I didn’t have time for anything but work.”
“You wouldn’t have had to do much looking. There must have been plenty of 4F’s and draft dodgers working at the plant.”
“They did their jobs, too. They built the planes that helped end the war.”
There was a silence while he lit another cigarette. He was still wearing his wedding ring! She could feel her heart beating through her fingertips and spoke before she thought.
“You’re wearing your wedding ring.”
“I’m still married. Where’s yours?” He looked pointedly at her hand.
“I … didn’t think you’d want me to wear it.”
“Horse hockey!” he snorted. “Do you have a lawyer?”
“I’m not filing. You’ll have to file to get rid of me.”
“Kathleen,” he said her name menacingly. “You’re trying my patience.”
“That’s too bad. I don’t mean to be contrary. How would it look if I divorced a hero as soon as he came home from the war?”
“You’re concerned about what folks in this town will think?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Then you plan to stay here?”
“I haven’t decided. I’ve been selling more and more of my Western stories. My editor is urging me to write a book. One thing about being a writer, you can do it anywhere. I should take that back. I couldn’t write a line in that dark apartment above the drugstore.”
“I read some of your stories while I was overseas.”
Kathleen’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You … did? I didn’t think that you liked to read.”
“We had little breaks between campaigns. When you have nothing else to do, you can learn to like most anything. The Salvation Army brought in boxes of magazines and books. I picked out the ones with stories written by K.K. Doyle.”
Was there pride in his voice? Kathleen smiled for the first time since he had come into the house. Their eyes caught and held. It was so wonderful to look at him. It was hard for her to believe that it was Johnny sitting across from her.
After the Parade Page 4