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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1940-12-19, Page 16PAGE EIGHT WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES contract with Tony Stefano had been Canceled, and her place on the radio had-been taken by another singer who was making quite a success of it. The broadcasting chain was eager to have Sue back as soon as possible. Dusty said there was no hurry about it, es­ pecially since Sue seemed so relaxed and unworried. The main thing was io get her strong and well. Gran certainly was an amazing per­ son. After Sue had passed the crisis and was definitely recovering, the "old lady put away her knitting and said •that now she could do her Christmas ■ Shopping. She hadn’t been to any of the big shops in ten years. Then, ra­ ther hesitalnly, she asked Joel if he would take her to a night club. She had been hankering to hear some of this swing music and see some of the goings-on. Joel mustn’t think that be­ cause she was such an old lady she was trying to be astonishing, like the old folks who went airplane riding on their ninetieth birthdays. c $ * * * In her living room at White Creek Gran bent over two chairs, their backs together, winding a skein of yarn into a ball. “Now, ain’t that just Providence?”- she asked, her eves bright and beady under the crimped bangs, as Joel came in. "Sit down, Joey, and hold .this for me like a good boy. When we finished we’ll have some of Lucy’s chocolate cake out in the butt’ry.” The dark blue yarn was destined to be a hug-me-tight for Sue to wear un­ der her fur coat. It was Gran’s opin­ ion that young girls didn’t wear half enough clothes. She was perfectly certain that a return to the short red flannel, petticoat would do much to re­ duce the number of pneumonia cases. “My stars!” said Gran, “if one of them fancy doctors didn’t agree with me. He told me he had prescribed that very treatment for one-of his patients. The evening was well on when Joel reached the point he had come to dis­ cuss. Gran knew Jinny Ransom, of course. Yes, Gran did. Her mother was a Halsey. She peered at Joel with shrewd old eyes. Joel had been going, with Jinny Ransom for quite a while. About a year. He had intended to ask her to marry him. That is, until he went to. New York. “Only, Gran—” and there was a world of dark tragedy in Joel’s voice, “there’s Sue.” “It seems to me—” and the words hung in the air while Gran counted her stitches, “—it seems to me that somebody told me — mebbe it was you — that Sue was a-goin’ to marry your’brother.”“Yes,” said Joel limply. “Yes. She is.” .' .Gran waited. “What is it you arc askin’ me, Joey? I can’t rightly an­ swer until I know what’s in your mind.” .Joel paced the room. Lhere iSn t, I suppose, any question or any an­ swer, Gran. I just had the faint hope that you might — well, say that all is fair in love and war.” “It sounds; to me as if you were askin’ my permission to court Sue. And, Joey, you may have it. I haven’t any objections to you or Dusty, eith- er. It’s up to Sue. Too bad she wasn t twins.” ' , , .* “Oh, Gran.” said Joel, his face twisted, “you know that isn’t it. Its Dusty. He doesn’t know how I feel.” “Now you’re askin’ me if it’s right for you to cut in on your brother. That I can’t tell you. That is some­ thing only you can decide. I do know that things like this can’t be hurried. I don’t s’pose this makes sense to you, but the best blooms in my garden take the longest time to blossom. And it takes lots of sun and waterin’ and a deal df patience to make ’em grow.’ • “But, Gran—” . After a row of knitting Gran said, “I’ve always liked Jinny.” ............. “Yes,” said Joel, “Jinny’s all right. Jinny was all right, too, he thought, as he walked home in the chill De­ cember air. The Ransom brick house on the corner was dark, except for a light upstairs in Jinny’s room. He d call her tomorrow. He’d make a date. He’d, take a look at the Peterson house which belonged to the estate and see about remodeling. , Only — only — Sue liked him. He could tell. It wasn’t ‘fair. .He was al­ most certain that Sue had liked him in just the same way he had liked her. They had known at that first moment that there was something mevtiable about their meeting. What he hadn t known then was that circumstances would contrive to make her as unat­ tainable as the farthest distant star. “Sue,” he said into the night, wond­ ering if any vibrant Wave could carry such a thought to her, “I came back to forget you. And I’ve got to try. Because outside of you, my brother is to me the most important person in the world.” CHAPTER XIII Jinny Ransom's eyes were large and dark; he hair was black and curly. Melting softness lingered around her soft red mouth. When she walked, Joel imaginediher leaning against the wind as it blew her green tweed skirt back and billowed ■under her Scotch plaid coat. They sat in the Coffee Shop and Jinny smiled, which was, in a sense, her way of talking. As she bent ov­ er her sandwich, Joel noticed that her cheeks were faintly pink jn her smooth, creamy skin and that her lashes, unbelievably long, were shad­ owed by the overhead light into a long thick fringe. Joel had been explaining his plans for opening the mills and Jinny was a good listener. Now she said, “Joel, dear, I hope it works out. It would mean such a lot to White Creek if it did. I’ve talked to Father about it and he will do everything he can to help you. He’s for you, Joel.” She looked up at him with warm, dark, loving eyes. It would be swell to have a girl like Jinny beside you, helping and caring about your work, Joel thought. “There ought to be something I could do on your project, Joel.” Jinny spread out her white hands and look­ ed at them. “I’m really not useless— although sometimes I think I am. It hurts when I realize how hard I’ve tried and that I still haven’t a job. Every now and then I get frightened and think: What if I should grow in­ to the sort of dependent soul Aunt Sally is? If you don’t make use of your strength, you don’t "have any. Joel. I am strong and willing — there must be a place for’ me.” “There is, too,” Joel asserted stout­ ly. “You just haven’t found it — the right place. You will. I know you will; Jinny.” “All I can do now,” Jinny said dis­ piritedly, “is»housework. I’m learning to cook, and I’m compiling a recipe book.” She smiled wryly. “Mother has fifteen recipes for lemon chiffon pie, cut from newspapers and maga­ zines. I practice, and once in a while I work down at'the office. I could do more, but Mary Jones, who .has been there practically .since she was born, resents me. Of course she is good and Father couldn’t get along without her. They, don’t want me unless they are in a jam. I wish that school job had materialized. I’d love to teach his­ tory and economics and the principles of government. But they wanted a person with experience. Tell me, Joel, how can .you get experience if no one will give you a chance to try out?” Joel said comfortingly, “For my ' sake, anyway, I’m glad it didn’t. I wouldn’t have wanted you to go so far away.” But Joel offered her no job on his project. -His mind wasn’t on Jinny’s problems so much as it was on his own. “If it isn’t too late, let’s go over the house plans. I have the blueprints of, the prefabricated houses which are inexpensive to put up. And that land of ours beyond the Guidepost is just growing up to scrub oak. Good land, too. — good enough for home gardens. It isn’t crazy, is it? I know we have to be very sure so that some unfore­ seen difficulty doesn’t trip up. Al­ though — oh, Jinny, I haven’t told you — Dusty won’t put up any mon­ ey.” “Oh!” said Jinny. "Oh! But pome­ body will. Somebody will,. I’m sure. Joel, how much would it cost to ex- tend the water main? Flow much would it take to get the light poles up to the Guidepost? I wonder. Could you work it on a co-operative basis With the town?” “I’d thought of that, too,” Joel said eagerly. “If you’ve finished, let’s take a look at the plans and work out the costs.” Jinny’s house on the corner was built of brick. It was old and mellow­ ed; the shrubbery was thick and tall. Inside, it was quiet, comfortable and a little shabby, but it was, Joel ob­ served as he had many times before, a real home. A fire flickered on the hearth, casting orange lights on the 'brass and irons. A blue bowi on the living room table was filled with pol­ ished fed apples; a pan of freshly popped corn was balanced on top of the radiator. Jinny brought out the card table, snapped open the legs while Joel pull­ ed the rubber band from the roll of blueprints. While they sat opposite each other Joel thought, “I’ve known Jinny Ran- some ever since I was big enough to toddle. Right now I remember a soap bubble party she gave when she was seven. There .were clay pipes for dll of Us asd a bowl of warm soapsuds with rainbow lights in them out in the yard. And I don’t know how or why, but we all went down the garden path and climbed a ladder to the freshly tarred roof of the hen house. I was an Indian with a chicken feath­ er in my hair and Jinny screamed be­ cause I was intending to scalp her and she thought I meant it, And of course we were discovered and order­ ed into the house, but all of us had tar on our legs for weeks afterwards. “And again, we were coasting on Dakin Hill. Jinny wore a Roman striped cap with a long tassel on the end of it and cried a little because her hands were cold, and I told her to take her mittens off and I would warm them on my bosom. I must’ve read something about warming hands on one’s bosom- “Jinny was the first girl I ever kiss­ ed. We were playing Post Office at a party and the room was dark and I had to feel her shoulders and find her mouth. It was surprising — that first contact ran through both of us like an electric current. I think I’ve always known I’d ask Jinny to marry me some day.” The old clock in the hall struck twelve slow notes. Joel looked up in amazement, “Jinny, can it be that late?” He stacked up the sheets of paper covered with figures. “I’ve stayed very late.” “Oh, Joel—” her eyes were dark and bright with the vision of a workers’ farm village created out of purely waste land “—if - it would work out!” She stood with her back to the fire which had burned to white ashes, with here and there a, glowing ember. Joel noticed that the red sweater caressed her small high bosom, that the green skirt flared from her hips like a bell.- pie stepped over and gathered her to him. Jinny’s soft arms stole around his neck as he buried his face in the frag­ rant cloud of her hair. “Oh, Jinny, Jinny, darling, I do love you,” Jinny whispered, “I love you,. Joel. I’ve always loved you, I think. I’ve never really cared for anyone else.” That was how it would be, Joel sud­ denly saw very clearly. Jinny would be his own, his dear one. Jinny would listen to him always, and help him with.-, his plans, Jinny belonged, to White Creek, too. They belonged to­ gether. But even as he kissed her it came over him,, with a bit of a shock, that in less than two weeks he had told two different girls that’he loved them. He had vowed to each that he .really meant it—and he had. Sue Garland was the forbidden, the unattainable, the bright star, the drcam, the glory girl,, who would un­ doubtedly marry his brother, Dusty. Had Dusty ever failed to "get what he really wanted? If he wanted Sue, no­ thing on earth could drag her out of his arms. Under the most unusual circum­ stances. the last time, Joel had told Sue that he loved her. When a girl lay at the brink of the dark, valley, anything one could say to bring her back was permissable and ..could be discounted afterwards. I't was quite likely that Sue never even heard the words and if she had, she most cer­ tainly had forgotten them. If Gran had heard them, she discounted them, too. He had, tried her out the other night and she had given no sign. In fact, it was very doubtful if anything he had said had been of the slightest importance in Sue’s recovery. Would anyone ever know? Might it not have been the work of the doctor, or Gran telling her it was time to get up? Did it matter, so long as Sue had recover­ ed, and with amazing rapidity after that critical moment? < Did the vague gloriousness of Sue matter at all? Dit it matter that When he. was kissing Jinny he could not quite forget that when he had kissed Sue it had been in the midst of a snow storm; that something had swept ov­ er them as swift and fierce and un­ controlled as a December gate? Did Sue matter to him when he held Jinny in his arms—Jinny, loving him wholeheartedly, with a sweetness un­ surpassed? Holding her, his face hot, his blood running high, he rained kisses on her soft lips, on het closed eyes with the black lashes Sweeping her soft, rounded cheeks* “Jinny,” he whispered over and ov­ er. “Jinny—darling!” CHAPTER XIV “Sue,” Dusty said With enthusiasm, “I’ve never seen you looking better I” It was true. The tenseness which had been part of Sue’s eager enjoyment of life had disappeared, and in. it§ plate was a becoming serenity which Dusty often found puzzling. Since her ill­ ness Sue seemed no longer the heed­ less girl he had met at the boat, but someone more mature. He wondered if she knew how sick she had been. They had all nearly, broken under the strain, To have her alive and well and the fact that she was was here at all seemed to him little short of a miracle. They had had dinner in a near-by restaurant and now Sue sat in front of Dot’s modern fireplace with its glass key-shaped andirons, and sipped a cordial. The small fire consumed a miniature birch log at which Sue looked thoughtfully. She said, “Dusty — you know a lot about money, don’t you?” “Oh,” said Dusty, relieved, “so that’s it. You’re worrying about mon­ ey. Well, don’t. It will come rolling in fast enough when we get you back on your feet.” “It’s awfully expensive being ill, isn’t it? The bills keep coming in. Ew ery day there is something I had for­ gotten about. Dustyi I must have spent a lot of money! I’ve charged things and now I haven’t money to pay for them. Another thing — I don’t know why I didn’t tliink of it before, but it’s hardly fair for me to park on Dot like this, is it? I mean, I’ve been here an awfully long time. Of course she hasn’t said anything and won’t. Dot’s that kind of a person. But I should be sharing her rent or something, shouldn’t I?” • ‘ “Look here,” Dusty said, “you have post-hospital blues, or something. Forget- it all. Let’s have a little mus­ ic.” How he could ever have made such a blunder Dusty afterwards couldn’t imagine, but he happened to tune in on Sue’s old hour, just, in time for the announcer’s fulsome introduction of Gloria, her successor. There Wash’t • any mention of Sue, of course, btit .just that the other girl’s voice was something to listen to. “Oh,” he said, and snapped it off. “Wait.” Sue put out her hand. "I’d like to hear her. She did get her chance. But I never thought she’d get it because I failed.” As they listened they could not es­ cape picturing themselves in the studio. Sue wondered when the queer huskiness in her voice would be cured so that she could get back to work. Dusty kept thinking what an idiot he was, and that this was the most inane thing he could have done.. After* a little Sue said, “She is good.” “Have a little more cordial?” Dusty asked. “No, thanks. I’ve been wondering what to do for money. Christmas is coming, you know. I’ve worked the entire day on my checking account, and it is quite hopeless. It’s like tuck­ ing in a blanket that’s too small. You turn it in at the bottom and then it doesn’t come up far enough. When you pull it up, your feet are cold. Somehow, I must earn some money soon. The next time I’m on a pay roll I’ll have to work out a budget and stick to it, although budgets and I aren’t really compatible.” “Tony Stefano,” said Dusty, "calls up nearly every day to inquire about your health. As soon as you’re ready you can begin. As a matter of fact, wouldn’t two weeks’ salary from Tony straighten out yoUr finances?” “I haven’t told you, Dusty, but the last time the throat specialist examin­ ed me there was the queerest look on his face. Do you suppose .there is anything incurably wrong?” "Of course not. But if you like I’ll call him up.” . “I wish you would,” Sue said sober­ ly. “I think it’s odd that I can’t get my high notes back. My register is much lower than it’s ever been before. Tell me, Dusty, do. you 'think being so ill could have injured the vocal cords?” “No,” said Dusty promptly, “I don’t.. You’re just staying consistent­ ly in the dumps. I do wish you’d give me the bills and let me advance the money to pay them.. I really want to, my dear,” “Oh, no, Dusty. Thank you. I made this mess for myself and I’m afraid I’ll have to get myself out of it. I don’t understand how I could have been so foolish.” “See here. Sue. I can eVen charge you interest if you’d feel better about it. Like a bank. Anything for your peace of mind, It’s-part of my job to keep you free from Worry?’ “You’re kinder than I deserve; Will yott listen to a song and give me an honest opinion? I ran over some things this morning and they sounded