As the guests headed to the Madison's party, it was evident that speing had officially arrived in Cole. Many of the legendary flowers and trees that drew so many of the tourists who passed through the tiny town were in full bloom, lining the neat, well planned streets. Sweet, much welcomed sounds of the season prevailed. Older folks who, in the winter, rarely left their warm homes, were beginning to show signs of life again--taking walks, going downtown, getting their "color" back. Winter colds were clearing up. School was nearing an end. The public librarian began planning the summer reading program. The swimming pool and recreational area were being painted and spruced up. Trees and grass were greening. A familiar warmth existed not only in the weather, but in the people, most of whom were more hospitable to each other at this time of the year. And it was in this hospitable spirit that John and Clara had decided to throw this party, which, by eight pm, was in full swing.
Guests were coming and going; some would just briefly drop in, and some would stay for hours.
One brief visitor was Janie Engle, an attractive, fifty year old divorcee who operated the ladies beauty parlor in Cole. Only a few minutes after she walked out the back door, her ex husband, Mark, entered the front door. Dr. Taylor Baker, an aging loudmouth and two timing husband, had to notice the near meeting of the divorced couple.
"Hey, Mark," Taylor shouted, patting Mark's back, "your ex wife just walked out the back door!"
"I don't give a damn!" Mark replied, walking to the bar.
Much chatter followed. People rambled on with such petty remarks as, "Janie is dating some army fellow now," or, "Mark's personality hasn't changed a bit." Mark was distressed by what he knew was nobody's business but his and Janie's, and he wished, for the moment, that he could lift all those whom he overheard gossip about the situation up and throw them out the front door. As he circulated around the house, Mark had memories, good and bad, of his twenty year marriage to the former Janie Rogers, who'd been the most beautiful girl of Cole High School.
During those ever difficult teenage years, they'd dated. On graduation night, they decided they belonged together permanently, and eloped to Alabama. They returned to Cole several days later, much to the relief of their families, and settled. Mark went to work on his family plantation, and Janie opened her small beauty parlor. Times were tough. Janie soon learned that she would not be able to bear children.
They planned to leave Cole, but Janie's mother became ill. Thus, they stayed to care for her. by the time she died, the couple was well settled in Cole, by which time Mark was working for the post office, and Janie had established her beautician business profitably.
For their sixteenth wedding anniversary, they'd planned to spend a weekend on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Mark forgot, Janie cried, and, for the next four years, they fought like "cats and dogs." Janie developed ulcers, and Mark was always coming up with an excuse for her absence at gatherings. Finally, they agreed that both would be happier apart. They decided, although Cole was small, they could avoid each other. They parted without regret.
Then only sad part about the whole divorce was that most of their friends in Cole felt that Mark and Janie were, apart, unhappy. After all, they figured, who could happily, after twenty years of marriage, part? As Mark and Janie knew, they could! However, that fact didn't stop their friends. Thus, whenever there was a party, both were invited. When, by chance, they did meet, it wasn't too painful. The only painful part was the people who made something out of it.
Prominent at the party were a loud, slaphappy acting couple, Jim and Fifi Ballinger. They were the "fuhn" couple of their group, regularly partying, dancing, and drinking. Occasionally, though, they would have a small argument and Jim would usually end up leaving, Fifi getting drunker and sadder all the while. tonight, their afgument had become more than a "spat," and Jim ended up grabbing Fifi by the neck and saying, "Let's go home, dear--we'll settle this later!"
About fifteen minutes after they left, Clara confronted Taylor, addressing him as "Dr. Baker," which Taylor knew probably meant he had a professional call over the telephone. "Dr. Baker," Clara continued, "you have a call."
"I should have known," Taylor said. "I can't go anywhere without having a call!" Calming down, he went to the telephone.
Bob Armstrong was helping at the bar, near the telephone, and couldn't help noticing the weird expression on Taylor's face. After the doctor hung up, he got his coat.
"You're not going!" Clara politely said.
"Afraid I must," Taylor apologized, "but I'll be back. This shouldn't take too long!"
"Well," Clara sighed, "do try and come back."
The call had been from Jim Ballinger. The argument that began at the Madison home had ended in a violent physical encounter in the kitchen of Jim and Fifi.
After more drinks and cursing each other, Fifi, in a fit of anger, grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed Jim. Jim managed to grab the extinguisher from Fifi, and knock her down. Bruises had formed on her arm, and her lip bled.
"Come on in, Taylor," Jim said, at the back door.
"What the hell has been going on here?" Taylor asked, noticing the mess on the floor and Jim's torn shirt.
"I'm afraid Fifi and I went a little too far this time," Jim said, as Taylor followed him back to the bedroom. "Sometimes we aren't the fun couple we seem to be!"
Fifi, laying on the bed, cried, "Just--just stay away from me!"
"Taylor is here to look at you," Jim said. "I don't think you're well, Fifi!"
"You're out of your mind!" Fifi shouted. "Why don't you get the hell out of this house? I don't need a doctor! I need a new husband!"
"Shut up!" Jim said. "Taylor is going to look at you!"
"That lip might require a stitch or two--I'm not sure," Taylor said, as he began his examination.
"Why don't you sew her whole mouth up?" Jim replied. "It would keep her quiet for awhile!"
"I think you better go in the kitchen for awhile, Jim," Taylor replied. "Fifi doesn't need all these snide remarks."
Jim, turning toward Fifi, said, "I'm sorry. I'll be cleaning up in the kitchen." He left the room.
"If oyu put stitches in this lip, how long will I need them?" Fifi asked.
"You won't need them," Taylor replied. After a pregnant pause, he asked, "do you and Jim fight like this very often?"
Fifi said nothing.
"If you do," Taylor continued, "you should stop it before you kill each other."
"I'm so sorry we made you leave the party, Taylor," Fifi apologized. "This type thing has never happened before."
Doubting Fifi's assertion, Taylor said, "I understand," as he closed his medical bag.
They arranged for an appointment for a check up, and Fifi thanked him for his kindness.
On the way back to the party, Taylor became very angry about the Ballinger's misbehavior, and decided to get drunk when he returned to the party, and not be bothered by anything.
"So glad you could come back!" said Clara, greeting Taylor. "Everything settled?"
Taylor laughed, and announced, "Jim just beat up Fifi!"
By ten thirty pm, no one at the party was feeling any pain. Music was playing, and several couples were dancing. The telephone rang again. Bob answered.
"Is Taylor Baker there?" a soft, female voice asked.
"He isn't taking any more calls tonight," Bob replied.
"Oh, I think he'll take this one. Please get him."
Bob approached Taylor.
"You have another phone call, Doc."
"Tell 'em to get another doctor!" Taylor hollered.
"You might want to take this one!" Bob replied.
Suddenly remembering whom it might be, Taylor staggered to the phone.
"Hello," he said, his expression brightening. "Yeah--don't worry about that--my wife is at her mother's--I'll be there in about ten minutes, baby." With that, he hung up. Unbeknownst to him, several at the party knew what was going on.
After Taylor left, he headed for a cottage he owned about ten miles out in the country.
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