CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
With Freddie by her side, Kathleen waited at the airport for Bob’s plane to arrive. She stood in the scorching sunshine and prayed silently she didn’t look as apprehensive as she felt. But there was no fooling Freddie.
“Don’t you be gettin’ yourself all worked up.” He gave her one of his special smiles. Freddie Conroy could do more with a smile than anyone she’d ever known. “Everything’s gonna to be all right. You’ll see.”
But would it? She’d been in the country only a matter of weeks when Bob had left home without so much as a good-bye kiss. She knew she’d changed during the last twelve months. So much had happened. There was her fear of Otis, Beulah’s death, her affair with Ron. The list went on. The young girl was gone and in her place stood this woman who at times had trouble even recalling her husband’s face. Days, sometimes weeks, went by when she hardly gave him a thought. Even though she never expected to see Ron Velnes ever again, her heart belonged to him. This man coming back into her life was a virtual stranger, someone she didn’t really know. Who wouldn’t be apprehensive?
The plane landed and taxied to a stop right in front of them. Another ten minutes passed while the steps were rolled across the tarmac and pulled up to the door. A dozen passengers emerged before Bob finally appeared in the doorway. Even from that distance, Kathleen could see how pale and drawn he looked. With the help of a pretty stewardess, whose smile showed she was more than willing to let the very handsome soldier lean on her, Bob made his way slowly and painfully down the steps of the plane.
He stood on the asphalt, leaning on a crutch, as Kathleen and Freddie hurried forward to greet him.
“Hello, Baby,” he said almost shyly.
Kathleen held her breath. She couldn’t tell whether he was trembling from weakness or emotion as he held her to him.
She smiled up at him. “Welcome home, Bob.”
He smiled too as he shook Freddie’s hand. Kathleen let the air out of her lungs. Everything was going to be all right after all.
When they reached baggage claim, Freddie pointed to a bench. “Why don’t you two sit down and get reacquainted. I’ll get us a cart and wait over there for the bags to come through.” After Freddie had gone, Bob turned Kathleen’s face to his and gave her a long, lingering kiss. “I missed you, Baby,” he said. “I missed you real bad.”
“I’ve missed you too.” She half believed now it was true. “I’ll bet you can’t wait to get home. You look so tired.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” He grimaced as he shifted his leg. “I’m real sorry about Momma.”
“Yes, I know, I know. She was a good friend to me and I’ll miss her very much. When we get home, we can talk about it.” She fiddled with the strap of her purse. “There’s something else we need to talk about.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s about your daddy and Selma. Two days after your momma’s funeral they moved to a church in Tennessee.”
Bob laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, ain’t Daddy just somethin’ else. He had it made in Uncle Homer’s church, beltin’ out those sermons. Still, he’s always wanted a church of his own and now I guess he’s got one.”
Kathleen stared at him. “How do you know all this? Who told you?”
“Daddy did. He wrote me a letter as soon as him and Selma got to Crystal Springs in Tennessee. I’m gettin’ better at my readin’ but still and all, I couldn’t read everything he said. So the nurse read some of it.”
Kathleen felt a trickle of sweat run down the side of her face.
Bob grinned. “He’s already preachin’ up a storm. He was in the pulpit his very first Sunday in the church. Said he’s lovin’ every minute of it.”
She smiled, trying to look pleased. “What else did he say?”
“Same kinda stuff. You know Daddy and his crazy ways. Did you know he’s doin’ some layin’ on of hands now?”
“No, I didn’t.” She felt no surprise, and anyway didn’t know all that much about such things. “I wondered if he’d talked much about your momma’s illness, and was he sorry he won’t be seeing you. Things like that.”
“Well, yeah, I guess he did say he was sorry as he could be he wouldn’t be in Eddisville when I got home. He couldn’t be leavin’ his church right now, seeing as how he ain’t been there all that long.”
Freddie walked up to them. “The luggage is comin’ through,” he said to Bobby. “Do you feel up to pickin’ out your stuff so we can get goin’? We’ll set your bags by the door and then I’ll go round and get the car. It’s a good distance away and too far for you to walk.”
Bob looked the car over as Freddie pulled up to the sidewalk. “Looks like you’ve been takin’ pretty good care of it, Baby.”
Kathleen smiled. “I haven’t so much as scratched it. Freddie came over yesterday with Mary Mayhew, and we did everything but paint it.” She looked toward Freddie for confirmation but he had his back to her as he took care of Bob’s luggage.
“I’ll drive home if you want me to,” he said to Kathleen as he closed the trunk. He turned to Bob. “She’s turned into a real good driver, this wife of yours.”
Bob frowned as he stared at Freddie. “How would you know? You been goin’ many places with her?”
Kathleen laughed in nervous surprise. “Hey, hold on Bob. Freddie’s my friend, my pal.”
“Yeah,” Freddie said, abrupt and remote. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to be gettin’ jealous about. She needed somebody around while you were gone.”
“I’ve been doing fine.” Kathleen wished Freddie hadn’t spoken so sharply and was suddenly afraid of a confrontation between them. “I’ve been working hard at the Gazette. Lots of nights I went to the Tate house and we played cards. Wednesdays I always spent with your momma. After the Tates gave us the TV, I’d pick her up and she’d watch it with me.”
Freddie had often joined them on these nights, sometimes bringing Mary Mayhew with him. They’d picked up Beulah and taken her home later. Now though, innocent as it had been, Kathleen felt reluctant to mention this. Freddie, obviously sensing Bob’s feeling of insecurity, made no reference to it either.
The tension which had suddenly flared up between the two men lasted all the way home, making conversation difficult and stilted. Kathleen was thankful when at last they pulled into their driveway.
“I’ll fix us a sandwich,” she said as Bob hobbled out to the terrace, leaning heavily on his crutch.
Freddie followed her into the kitchen. “It’s been a long time since you two have seen each other so I guess I’ll be gettin’ on home.”
Kathleen felt he was trying to give her his special smile but somehow couldn’t find it. Did he suddenly think as she did that this deep but innocent friendship they shared might be coming to an end? She rested her hand on his arm.
“I guess Bob and I do need some time alone, Freddie. Thanks for going to the airport with me.”
Already tense from the strained atmosphere in the car, Kathleen felt the need for caution. She walked out to the terrace and put her hands on Bob’s shoulders.
“It’s good to have you home, Bob.”
“Yeah, Baby. It’s good to be here.”
“You look worn out. Why don’t you rest on the bed while I fix us a bite to eat?”
“Yeah, I guess I am awful tired, and my leg’s giving me a fit. Come on in there with me. We can eat later.”
Kathleen helped him off with his clothes.
“Take them all off. I don’t want nothin’ on me.”
She did as she was told until he lay naked on the bed.
“Now it’s your turn.” He was already breathing fast. “Take everythin’ off and do it real slow. I dreamed of this while I was in the hospital and want to make the most of it.”
She’d done this for him before, when they had first moved into this house. But it had been different then. Why did these same eyes, now crackling with desire as they watched, almost devoured her, make her feel sordid and cheap.
The actual act of making love turned out to be a disaster. Kathleen was terrified of hurting Bob’s leg, and after his initial rush of passion, Bob was devastated to discover he was unable to perform.
She tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry about it. You’re exhausted from the flight, and anyway, I’m sure it was my fault. I was so worried about your leg, I was afraid to move.”
He nodded grimly, his eyes avoiding hers. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
He turned away from her without another word and within a couple of minutes was sound asleep.
She sat on the side of the bed, her heart heavy with sympathy for him. The act had accomplished nothing for her either but she shrugged off her disappointment. She took a fast shower and went into the kitchen to prepare the meal. She tried to tell herself she was thrilled because Bob was home at last, that their lovemaking would improve when his leg healed. Her mind, though, was on Ron Velnes and their unforgettable time at the beach, how they’d run laughing through the surf in the daytime and spent the nights in each other’s arms. Even though he’d given her his phone number and address, they’d parted without even knowing when, if ever, they’d see each other again. Ron never told her whether he planned to get back in touch with Yvonne and she’d never asked. In a way, she hoped he had. What did she expect him to do, remain celibate and alone for the rest of his life?
Filled with an almost unbearable sense of loss, she stepped out onto the terrace. Since Ron had gently chided her about smoking, she’d tried hard to stop. But she lit one now as she leaned against the wall, reliving again those few magical days. She watched the daylight moon turn to silver in the deepening twilight and wondered if Ron saw it too, and if he did, was he thinking of her.
* * *
Bob pushed his plate away. “Boy, am I stuffed. I didn’t know you could cook good old Southern food like that.”
She’d cooked his favorite fried chicken, rice and gravy. She never could get used to the Southern way of cooking green beans for hours, until they fell to pieces, swimming in the grease of a huge piece of fatback. But she’d cooked them today for Bob.
“Your momma showed me,” she said. “She taught me so I could get ready for when you came home.”
“Yeah, well, everythin’ was real good.”
He winced as he moved in his chair.
“I know you’re in a lot of pain,” she said. “When you come home for good, you’ll get better faster. I can’t believe you’ll be out of the army soon.”
“Me neither. I go back to Texas one more time so they can check me out. After that I get that good old medical discharge.”
She picked up the plates and carried them to the sink. “Do you feel getting wounded was a blessing in disguise? I mean, I know you’re in a lot of pain now, but the doctors seem to think you’ll make a full recovery. At least you’re out of the whole darn mess.”
“Damn right,” he said. “Damn right. But you’re wrong about one thing, Baby. I ain’t plannin’ on makin’ no full recovery.”
Foreboding rippled somewhere inside her. “Why do you say that?”
Bob touched his thigh, above where the pain was. “If I play my cards right, I’ll be getting a pension on account of this leg.” He laughed. “Daddy always told me Jesus works in mysterious ways and he sure as hell does.”
“But you don’t want to always limp and walk with a cane, do you? I’ll help you get well and strong again.”
He grinned, a crafty look on his face. “I don’t plan on gettin’ too well and strong. I aim to be collectin’ this pension from Uncle Sam for the rest of my life.”
Kathleen didn’t want to think of her handsome young husband, deliberately planning to pick up a disability check from the government. But at least he didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in being a preacher like his daddy.
Eager to change the subject and hating to keep her emerald ring a secret from him, she went into the bedroom and slipped it on her finger.
“How do you like this?” she asked as she came back to the table.
He took her hand to get a closer look, then grinned up at her. “That ain’t real.”
“Yes it is.”
She told him about the night she’d found the ring in New York and how she hadn’t expected to ever see it again. Of course, she couldn’t tell him Ron Velnes had brought it to the beach so she said Georgina had sent it to her.
“Georgina had it appraised. It’s worth six thousand dollars. Not that I would ever sell it because it means an awful lot to me. Still, it’s nice to have something of value. And I think it’s so beautiful.”
Bob’s eyes grew wide as he stared at the ring. “Six thousand dollars. Damn, if we ain’t gonna be sellin’ this. There ain’t no use you keeping somethin’ worth that much money. You won’t be goin’ no place where you’ll be needin’ anythin’ this fancy.”
“Oh no, you don’t, Bob.” She tried to act playful, but hated his serious tone. “There’s no way in the world I’d sell this ring.”
He gave her a long, penetrating look. The kind of look that said he thought she’d lost her mind.
“We’ll see about that,” was all he said. “We’ll see about that.”
After Bob had gone to bed and was fast asleep, she busied herself around her little home, trying not to think of the look on his face when she’d told him how much her ring was worth. Did he honestly think she’d ever sell it? Well, if he did, he could think again. If she ever did sell, it would have to be for a bigger reason than to provide money for her husband who had just told her he had no intentions of ever working again.
* * *
Bob never attempted to make love again. Was he afraid of another failure? Kathleen didn’t know but decided to wait until his leg healed completely before discussing it with him. Most nights he’d retire earlier than she did, but sometimes when she climbed ever so carefully into bed, she sensed he was wide-awake as she lay beside him. He didn’t touch her, didn’t so much as reach for her hand.
A week later, Bob listened intently as Kathleen read out loud the write-up in The Eddisville Gazette. Mr. Tate had written the column himself in his flowery, folksy style, about Bobbie Conroy, one of Eddisville’s own, wounded in Korea while fighting bravely for his country. He made it sound almost as if Bob had won the Congressional Medal of Honor. Lennie Barlow had taken the picture of the hometown soldier and his English wife, holding hands and smiling
Bob preened. “Well, now, ain’t that something serenely into the camera from their elegant little house on Petrie Avenue. Well now, ain’t that something. Don’t it feel great to get your name in the paper like that. Shoot, old man Tate makes me sound like some sort of hero.”
He looked around the immaculate room. “You’d better get this place cleaned up. Ain’t no telling who’ll be droppin’ in now.”
* * *
“I ain’t changed my mind about them,” Bob said when he told Kathleen he had no intention of accepting the dinner invitation from William and Belle Tate. “They still turn their noses up at the likes of us. Just because you work for old man Tate, don’t make no difference to me. That’s between you and him.”
Kathleen stared at her husband, filled with exasperation at his small-mindedness and stubbornness.
He lit a cigarette. “Aw, come on, Kathleen. Can’t you at least be reasonable? Tate’s got that crazy old bat for a wife. How in the hell am I supposed to talk to her? And another thing, you don’t see her runnin’ over here to see us, do you? Come to think of it, you don’t see her nowhere.”
Kathleen fought to keep the anger out of her voice. “Don’t say those things about Belle. You don’t have the slightest idea what you’re saying. She’s been ill.”
“Yeah, well, it’s lastin’ a hell of a long time. I ain’t laid eyes on the woman in years.”
“Please
Bob, don’t talk like that. The Tates have been very good to me. I’ve never known two nicer people. Mr. Tate spent hours writing that article about you, trying to get it exactly right.”
Bob spoke as if trying to explain something to a child. “Ain’t you never gonna learn nothin’? That’s how Tate makes his money, writing stories of interest about people in the town. Do you think he’d do it for nothin’?”
* * *
Even though it was evident after a few days that none of Bob’s own so-called friends would be beating a path to their door, some people did come to call. Lennie Barlow came with his wife, and they brought a bottle of champagne. Bernie came on the same night, almost as if it had been planned. And when Mr. Tate came, arms filled with brownies and cookies baked by Belle and Sarah, Kathleen’s heart filled with gratitude because she knew her boss had done it for her.
Freddie dropped by every other day, sometimes with Mary and sometimes alone. Kathleen knew he got on Bob’s nerves but if Freddie noticed, he didn’t show it and kept right on with his visits.
Physically, Bob became stronger. His leg was mending, and now and then he’d use a cane instead of crutches. But after the first couple of weeks at home, his mood darkened. When he became tight-lipped and morose, Kathleen tried to tell herself this was probably normal behavior for any wounded soldier returning home from a war.
With just one week left of his leave, she came home from work one evening and was immediately struck by the distinct improvement in his disposition.
He pointed to the large envelope on the coffee table. “If you want the surprise of your life, take a look at what’s in there.”
Kathleen pulled out the contents and stared at the large photograph for at least ten seconds before she realized the two people posing so theatrically were Otis and Selma. They stood side by side on a platform arranged a lot like the Holiness Church of Jesus. There were the potted chrysanthemums, and she could see a grand piano in the background.
Selma’s hair was now platinum blond, or white, Kathleen couldn’t tell which from the black and white photograph. It hung in two thick braids on her shoulders. Kathleen didn’t remember Selma’s hair being anywhere near this thick and long. It had always been red, thin, and frizzy. She had to be wearing a wig. Her dress was more like a flowing robe, along Grecian lines, except for the long, loose sleeves. She had a silken cord tied around her waist.
Different Drummers Page 20