Different Drummers

by Jean Houghton-Beatty

  * * *

  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 Georgin
a’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.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Kathleen kept within the speed limit as she drove south on Highway 17. Her eyes darted from side to side as she took in the sights and at the same time watched for the highway sign that would indicate her turn-off. And suddenly there it was. A sign at the side of the road indicated she should take the next left. It said, “Carey’s Beach 2 Miles.”

  Georgina had called last night to say there was no way she could come to the beach after all. She was literally swamped with work. Kathleen had practically convinced herself it didn’t matter after all that her friend was unable to make it. Each day now she felt better than the day before. She didn’t need anyone. Still, as other cars passed her, filled with people, laughing and talking to each other, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness. She glanced at the letter on the seat beside her. It was from Bob and even though it was only four lines long, he’d written it himself. She’d been touched when she read it. He said he couldn’t wait to see her and the next few weeks couldn’t go fast enough for him. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly as she stared at the road ahead. Maybe things really would be better when he came home. She’d soon find out. The day loomed ever nearer.

  A sort of whoop escaped from her lips when she drove over the last little rise and there was the wide, wonderful sea straight ahead. She took a deep breath as that special scent of wet sand and everything that went with it rushed to meet her.

  Mr. Simpson’s place was easy to find and she maneuvered the car carefully into the small driveway. She found the door key under the fifth pot of geraniums, right where Mr. Simpson said it would be. She carried her suitcase into the house and placed it in the front bedroom overlooking the water.

  Within ten minutes, she’d placed her few groceries in the fridge, and changed into shorts and a halter-top. Unable to wait another minute, she opened the French doors and walked onto the deck. Then with beach bag over her shoulder, she practically danced down the wooden steps that led directly from the house to the shore. The tide was out and the almost empty beach stretched for miles on either side of her. Never had the South Carolina sun felt so wonderful. She yanked off her sandals and ran with them in her hand across the sand to the water’s edge. She shaded her eyes against the glare and looked out across the shimmering sea. Six or seven pelicans
, flying single file, passed right in front of her.

  She thought of her family on the other side of that vast water. The bakery would have been closed for hours by now. What were they doing right this minute? Were they all sitting around the table the way she remembered? And were they, maybe, talking about her?

  Her thoughts drifted to Ron Velnes. Was he already in England with his French-Canadian girlfriend or were they at this very moment walking hand in hand along the streets of Montreal? And did he once in a while think of Kathleen McCreadie, the girl he used to know.

  “A penny for them, Kath,” said the voice behind her.

  She stood absolutely still, even afraid to breathe. She could have sworn…

  “You can turn around. I’m not a ghost.”

  She whirled to face him, and the sand shifted beneath her feet as she gazed into the grave, loving eyes of Ron Velnes. She raised a hand as if to touch his face then slowly lowered it.

  “Ron, I…”

  “I had to come to you.” His voice was ragged with emotion as he reached for her. And, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she walked into his arms.

  He murmured her name over and over into her hair.

  She lifted her face to his, unable to stop the tearing sobs of joy. All she could do was let him hold her, knowing if he let her go, she’d crumble to the ground. They went down on their knees still clinging to each other, while the gentle tide licked their toes. All that mattered was this moment, this place. This safe, safe place. Kathleen had almost forgotten how it felt, the most wonderful feeling of all, the sheer unadulterated thrill of being in the arms of a man she knew loved her more than anything in the world.