Different Drummers by Jean Houghton-Beatty Page B

and placed it on the table.
    She put her hand on Kathleen’s shoulder. “Pass me your glass and I’ll get you some more tea. You’re lookin’ kinda puny to me.”
    â€œNo, I’ll get it, Beulah.” Kathleen stood, anxious for a chance to move from the table.
    The interruption was enough to stop Otis.
    â€œI don’t think you know this, Daddy,” Bob said, “but Kathleen got that job workin’ for the Gazette .”
    She slowly filled her glass at the counter while she waited for Otis’s reply.
    â€œMaybe one day, William Tate’ll see the light, just like I’m hopin’ this new wife of yours will.”
    Otis selected a toothpick from the small container in the middle of the table and proceeded to work on his teeth.
    â€œYou’re gonna be needin’ a lot of help from Jesus on this one, Bobby. Yes sir, it’s gonna take a heap of prayin’. I was hopin’ you’d do better the second time around.”
    Otis jabbed the toothpick into his back teeth. “I know Francine was no count white trash but one thing I got to say in her favor. She was a Christian. She did wrong by you, Bobby, but she never did wrong by the Lord.”
    Kathleen leaned hard against the counter. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, and the temperature, all in a second, jumped another ten degrees. Bob’s face had turned the color of parchment and his mouth hung open as he stared at his father.
    â€œThanks a lot, Daddy,” he said as he slung his chair away from the table and took hold of Kathleen so she wouldn’t crumple to the floor. “Thanks for screwin’ up everythin’. I ain’t even told Kathleen anything about Francine yet.”
    He put his arm around Kathleen’s waist. “Come on, Baby,” he said in a hoarse voice, “let’s get out of here. We’ll drive over to see your house.”
    As they were going out the door, Beulah handed Kathleen a cold wet towel. “Hold this up against your face,” she said. “It’ll ease the faintness.”
    Leaning hard on Bob, Kathleen somehow made it to the car. Once inside, she wiped her face and neck with the towel, then ran it over her arms. Bob got in beside her and pulled out the driveway.
    â€œDon’t go to the house yet,” she said, her voice cracked and strange. “Drive on out of town. We need to talk.”
    While Bob drove, Kathleen leaned back in her seat, letting the wind hit her full in the face. Eventually Bob pulled off the road and parked the car under some shade trees. He slammed his hand against the dashboard then turned to her, his face stricken.
    â€œYou have to believe me, Baby. I was gonna tell you about Francine. I just ain’t had time is all.”
    â€œThen tell me about it,” Kathleen said, calmer now she was away from the house and Otis.
    â€œI met her in a bar when I was in basic trainin’. She seemed real nice, a pretty little thing. But shoot, what did I know? I was just a kid. Anyways, we got married. A month later, when I was on leave, we came to Eddisville for a couple of weeks. Her and Daddy hit it off right away. She was real hung up on his fancy way of preachin’.”
    Bob’s eyes pleaded for understanding. “We hadn’t been married more than two months before she was makin’ eyes at every guy on the base. When I got my orders for England, somethin’ told me she wouldn’t be there when I got back. And she wasn’t. When I came home on leave after the war, she’d disappeared off the face of the earth. I ain’t laid eyes on her since the day I took off again for England. We’ve been divorced since 1946.”
    He opened the car door wide to let in more air. “A couple of years ago I met up with a guy who was in basic trainin’ with me. He said he’d seen Francine in Honolulu. Seems she married some singin’ bartender out there.”
    It was