The answer had come when he saw the poster of Uncle Sam pointing a ringer. We want you.
He had enlisted. But not a day had gone by that he hadn’t thought of her. Not a night that he didn’t ache for her.
Johnny pulled his car into the driveway behind Kathleen’s Nash. She should have another car, he thought as he got out and walked up onto the porch. That thing wasn’t going to last much longer.
He rapped on the door, waited, then rapped again. Her car was here. He had not seen her walking to town. Had she seen him and was refusing to come to the door? He opened the screen and tried the doorknob. Locked. Then it occurred to him that she had gone somewhere with Pete. He stomped off the porch, got back in his car, and headed out of town.
Chapter Twenty-one
The weather turned bad two days before Thanksgiving. A cold rain kept Kathleen indoors. It proved to be a good time to work on her book. She forced herself to concentrate on it…then she became interested again, and it became easier to immerse herself in the story.
She had not seen Johnny since the morning Henry Ann left. Pete had come by from time to time. He told her that he, Barker, and Lucas had helped Johnny drive his horses up from Keith McCabe’s ranch.
Theresa called to let Kathleen know what she was taking to Jude’s for the Thanksgiving dinner.
“I wanted to make sure that both of us didn’t make pumpkin pie.”
“Any pie that I made would be tough enough to dance on. I’ll bring the cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, and apple salad.”
“Pete is cooking the turkey. I’ll bring the corn bread dressing and the pie. I’m looking forward to it. I hope we don’t have an emergency at the clinic.”
“I’m wondering how many turkeys Pete has cooked in the past. Maybe I should make a meat loaf.”
Theresa laughed. “He says that he can do it. I hope he remembers to take the insides out.”
Thanksgiving morning Kathleen was up early. After preparing the food she was going to take to the dinner, she took a bath. Looking at herself in the mirror after she got out of the tub, she was surprised that her face was so pale. She examined herself closely.
Her hair was shoulder length now. She picked up the scissors and snipped until she had short curls across her forehead and from the corners of her eyes to her jawbone. Satisfied that her face didn’t look so bald, she applied light makeup.
The dress she had chosen to wear was forest green jersey with a gathered skirt and full sleeves caught at the wrist with a wide cuff. It was a soft dress, the color was good, and it made her feel feminine.
The day was bright and sunny, not at all like the Thanksgivings she remembered in Iowa, where, if snow hadn’t already fallen, there was the promise of it in the air. Telling herself that she hadn’t mashed the sweet potatoes and added butter and cinnamon because that was the way Johnny liked them, but because it was the only way she knew how, she packed the food in a box and set it in the backseat of the Nash.
Only Pete’s car was parked in front of Jude’s house. He saw her drive up and came out to help her with the box.
“Am I the first one here?”
“Theresa is here. Jude had me go get her while he went! to the clinic. Someone over there had a pain or something.” Before they stepped up onto the porch Pete stopped. “Kathleen —Johnny isn’t coming. He went down to Vernon to the McCabes.”
For some reason Kathleen was not surprised and swallowed her disappointment.
“That means all the more turkey for us,” she said brightly.
“I hope it’s fit to eat. I never cooked one before.”
“You …never cooked one?” She held the door open for him.
“No, but if anyone else can do it, I can. I went right by the instructions Dale gave me. I had her write them down.”
“Dale Cole?”
“Yeah.”
“I hope she told you to take off the feathers.”
“She did. Hey, you’ve got to meet Theresa’s boy. He’s a ringed-tail tooter.” He set her box down on the kitchen table. “Let me take your coat.”
Theresa came from the pantry. “Hello, Kathleen. Do you have anything that should go in the refrigerator?”
“The salad and the cranberry sauce. Oh, my, isn’t it a beauty.” Kathleen ran her hand over the door of Jude’s new refrigerator. “I’m going to have one of these one day.”
“The sweet potatoes will stay warm on the back of the stove.”
Pete came back to the kitchen with a small, pixie-faced boy riding on his shoulders.
“Know where I found this little peanut? Hiding in the closet. When he grabbed my leg, I was sure that a Jap was about to cut my toes off.”
The child giggled happily and held on to Pete’s head. “Kathleen, this is my son, Ryan. Say hello to Mrs. Henry, Ryan.”
“How-dee-do, pretty lady,” he said in a deep voice, then giggled uncontrollably.
“Ryan,” his mother said. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
Still giggling, Ryan patted the top of Pete’s head. Pete swung him down off his shoulders and set him on the floor.
“All right,” he said gruffly. “You gonna rat on me ya got to pay.” He grabbed him around the middle and, with him dangling from under one arm, left the kitchen.
“What ya gonna do, Pete? What ya gonna do?”
“I’m going to make me some peanut butter.”
Sounds of laughter and thumps came from the living room. Theresa rolled her eyes.
“I hope they don’t break anything. I don’t know which one is the biggest kid. Honestly. Ryan adores Pete, and Jude, too.”
“Obviously Pete likes him.”
“It’s been wonderful for Ryan. He’s not had men in his life except his grandfather on his father’s side. Believe me, he was nothing like Pete and Jude.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone like Pete.”
Jude returned after stitching a man’s split lips and a bad cut over his eye.
“Too much whiskey and not enough brains. He’ll not be eating turkey for a while.”
It became obvious to Kathleen that Theresa and her son had been frequent visitors to Jude’s house. She wondered if it was at Jude’s invitation or Pete’s. Theresa seemed to know what Jude had in the way of china and silver, bowls and pots.
After he proudly brought a golden brown turkey to the table, Pete handed the carving knife to Jude.
“Have at it, brother. You need the practice,” Pete said, and sat down beside Ryan. “He might need to take off a leg or two in the next few days or do a little slicing here and there,” he explained in a loud whisper.
“Pete, that’s awful!” Kathleen’s hand went to her mouth.
“Mom, what’s awful?” Ryan asked.
“I’ll tell you after dinner.”
Kathleen enjoyed herself even though she didn’t have much of an appetite. Johnny had not been mentioned since Pete’s announcement that he wasn’t coming. It was Kathleen’s fifth Thanksgiving without him, so it wasn’t anything new.
During the meal Kathleen noticed Jude’s eyes straying often to Theresa. She wore a blue dress with tiny darker blue flowers. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining. Before sitting down, she had whipped off a frilly apron.
After the meal Theresa carefully wrapped the leftover food and put it in the refrigerator.
“Now if Pete’s gone tomorrow, the doctor will have a meal.”
“Is Pete going somewhere?”
“I heard him tell the doctor that he was going to the city to see about buying some land.”
“In the city?”
“Here, but whoever it is he has to see is in the city.”
While Ryan napped, the two couples played cards. Pete called the game Pitch; Kathleen called it High, Low, Jack, and the Game. Despite the argument over the name of the game, Kathleen and Pete played well together and skunked Jude and Theresa. After two hours, Jude threw up his hands and protested that they had cheated.
As
Kathleen prepared to leave, she told Pete to tell Dale that the turkey was cooked perfectly.
“The dinner was wonderful, the company outstanding. I enjoyed myself immensely,” she told Jude.
“Come again, Kathleen.”
“Hey, sugar,” Pete called as she went toward her car. She paused and he caught up with her. “Shall we see the movie tonight?”
“Ah, Pete, why don’t you take Theresa?”
“And have Jude serve my head up on a platter? No, sir, my head’s too important to me.”
“Is …he? They?”
“I think he likes her a lot. I’m not sure if she has gotten to that stage. I’m working on it.”
“Why …you matchmaker, you!“
“Pretty smart of me, don’t you think?”
“You want to get out of the house tonight and give them some time to be alone, is that it?”
“You’ve hit the nail on the head, sugar.”
“Come over and we’ll listen to the radio and play two-handed solitaire.”
“You got a date.”
During the week that followed, Kathleen worked with Adelaide on the Christmas carnival to be held on Saturday. They were raising funds to pay for the remodeling of the room at the clinic to accommodate the iron lung that had already arrived and was set up in a storage room in case of need.
Posters were up all over town, and flyers had been sent to surrounding towns. Because it was an affair that would benefit not only Tillison County, but surrounding counties, announcements had been made on the Frederick radio broadcasts.
Adelaide confided to Kathleen that Paul was working on getting a license to operate a radio station in Rawlings.
“It’s something he has always wanted to do. I hope he is able to swing it. He already has a backer.”
“Backer? Oh, and I bet I can guess who that is.”
“You’d be guessing right, of course. Sometimes I think that Johnny Henry is dumb as a doorknob. He has no idea what a remarkable man his father is.”
“Only a few people know what Barker does for this town. The rest of them see him as an Indian and resent what he has. His father made a lot of money, but he taught his children how to use it. Most people, if they had Barker’s money, would be sitting around doing nothing. He works.”
“Well.” Adelaide sniffed. “I didn’t mean for you to get on a soapbox. And, by the way, Barker approached Paul with the idea. Not the other way around as you would expect.”
“It hadn’t occurred to me to expect anything. Paul has a wonderful speaking voice for the radio.”
“Everything about Paul is wonderful.”
“Oh, Lord. I’ve started the ball rolling. She’ll go on for hours.”
“No, I won’t,” Adelaide said pertly. “I’ve got to get down to the schoolhouse.”
On the day of the carnival, Kathleen worked on decorations all day. She tied up balloons the high-school boys had inflated with an air hose at Eddie’s station. She hung strips of crepe paper and made signs on big sheets of butcher paper donated by Miller’s grocery.
She was so busy that she hadn’t had time for a passing thought of Johnny until, on a trip to the Gazette office, she saw his car parked in front of the drugstore. Then, fearing that she would run into him, she grabbed up the newsprint Paul had rolled off. It was to serve as a backdrop on the small stage that had been set up in the gymnasium where the dance would be held. She flung it into the car and hurried back to the school.
The five-member band was not of Bob Wills’s class, but they were up-and-coming local musicians and were donating their services. For the carnival they were calling themselves Willie and the Chicken Pluckers. They showed up in hillbilly costumes: straw hats, ragged overalls, oversized shoes with the toes cut out. Just looking at them put Kathleen in the mood for a good time.
People were beginning to arrive when Kathleen dashed home to change clothes. As she dressed, it occurred to her that she had not had her monthly period. The date had come and gone and she had not noticed because occasionally she would go for as long as five or six days beyond her due date.
With one stocking on and one off she went to find a calendar. It had been over five weeks. Now that she was thinking about it, she had only flowed a part of a day during her last period, which in itself was not unusual; three days was her limit. It would just be her luck to start tonight. For safety’s sake she put a Couple of tampons in her purse.
She was amazed at the number of cars parked around the school when she reached it and had to park half a block away. It was a warm evening for the first week in December, and she didn’t mind the walk.
The booths had opened in the classrooms. People, some in costume, were wandering up and down the hallway. Criers were standing in the doorways enticing them to enter. Kathleen made her way to the gymnasium and through the crowd that milled behind the area roped off for dancing.
Pete had been pressed into service to act as announcer at the dance. The band, playing to liven up the crowd, was putting on a show. The fiddler jigged as he played his violin; one of the guitar players plucked wildly while trying to stomp on the toes of the band members who were not wearing shoes. The drummer, wearing a helmet, kept hitting himself on the head, and the piano player, his overalls on backward, wore an oversize tattered straw hat that covered his ears. The crowd was enjoying their antics.
Kathleen made her way to the stage to join the dime-a-dance girls. Four of the five chairs were filled. She recognized one girl who worked in the Golden Pheasant and another who worked part time at the library. The other two were high-school girls. All four women were pretty. Kathleen was sure they would all have paying partners before she did. As soon as she took her seat, Pete picked up the microphone and began to talk.
“Folks, we are about to get this little shindig under way. It’s only going to cost you ten pennies to dance with your lady love. Willie here tells me they will be long dances, so you’ll get your money’s worth. The band members have donated their time and talent so that every dime that you spend here tonight will go toward that polio room in the clinic.
“For you gents who chained your wives to the washtub so you could come here tonight“—Pete paused for the laughter—”there are five pretty girls sitting up here on the stage who will dance with you, if…a big if…you’ve got a ticket. Kathleen, that pretty redhead on the end, is a knockout, don’t you agree? The little blonde next to her is just as cute as a button. The brunette will dance your legs off as will that one with the pretty brown hair next to her. The little ’un on the other end was made for a slow, cuddlin’ waltz. Sugar, I’m goin’ to dance with you before this night is over.
“Willie’s going to start the evening off with our own Bob Wills’s ’San Antonio Rose.’ If you haven’t got a ticket, gents, go get one, get two or three dozen. You’ll use them before the night’s over. Remember just ten cents. That’s two packs of chewing gum. Wouldn’t you rather dance with your sweetheart or one of these pretty girls than chew gum or smoke a ten-cent cigar?
“One more thing, folks. If you don’t dance, that’s all right. You can drop a donation in the jar right over there on the ticket table. It could be your kids or your neighbor’s kids who come down with polio. They’ll have a better chance if we have that iron lung set up and running.” Pete drew a string of tickets out of his pocket. “I’ll start it off with the beautiful redhead.”
He came to the stage and held his hand out to Kathleen. By the time they got to the middle of the dance floor, men were coming through the gate with a partner or hurrying to choose one of the four girls on the stage.
“You’ve missed your calling.” Kathleen matched her steps to Pete’s. “You should have been a ringmaster at a circus.”
“Think so?” Pete laughed and whirled her around. “Honey, I’m just now gettin’ warmed up.”
Willie had a surprisingly good voice. Following “San Antonio Rose“, the band played “Tumbling Tumble-weeds“, a slow waltz.
“Looks
like a good crowd.”
“Each dance will last a little over ten minutes. Think your feet will hold out?”
“I’ll not dance every dance.”
“Wanna bet? We’ll have to limit the number of consecutive dances or one of these gents will hog you all evening.”
Kathleen laughed. “Wanna bet?”
She would have lost the bet. The five girls never had a chance to sit down. Men stood in line to dance with them. Kathleen danced with men she had never seen before. Some of them danced really well, while others merely swayed back and forth, which was fine with her.
The band was playing “When I Grow Too Old to Dream” when Kathleen stepped into the arms of a well-dressed man with dark hair, graying at the temples. His coat was an expensive tweed.
“Good evening, Kathleen.” The words were said softly in her ear as they moved across the floor.
“Good evening.”
He held her firmly to him, making it easy to follow his steps. She wondered vaguely at the familiarity of his using her first name, then dismissed the thought.
Theodore Nuding was sure that she could feel the pounding of his heart. After seeing her name listed as one of the ladies who would be available for dancing, he had taken great pains with his disguise. He had darkened his hair, put in the false gray, colored his eyebrows, and even darkened the skin on his face. He was better at making himself look old, but tonight he had wanted to look attractive.
He turned his head until his nose touched her hair and breathed in the scent of her. She was so lovely, so graceful. He spread the fingers of the hand on her back in order to feel more of her. They danced slowly. He knew that he danced well. His mother had taught him.
The dance was over all too quickly for Nuding, but he was a patient man. He released her and stepped back. She had not said a word after the initial greeting, but it had not been necessary to hear her voice. He knew it as well as he knew his own.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said, and quickly walked away before she could examine his face too closely. By the time Nuding reached the back of the crowd where he could watch her unobserved, she had another partner and was dancing.
After the Parade Page 24