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Show Kathleen Norris Says: Revenge Is Sweet But Expensive Bell Syndicate. WNU Features. j I When we were married I had known Bob almost a year, but it was year of dancing and dates no serious thought ever bothered us. By KATHLEEN NORRIS " T E WERE married in j October, two years V V ago," writes Betty I Pearson from Oklahoma. "We had four happy months ; in a little place near camp, in Florida, then Bobby went off i to Guadalcanal. Immediate- ly afterward I could write him that there was to be a baby; I was wretchedly sick, but very happy and excited about j it, although I have no parents i or home, and was holding a I defense-plant job. j "Bobby's reception of my news shook the ground under my feet j and for days I was miserable and crying. He hated the idea of a child, he didn't want it; there must be something I could do to get rid of-it. I wasn't awfully smart to have gotten myself into this fix. It meant the end of our dancing and j fun in short, he said everything that could make me mad and break my heart. I "The letter stunned me, but I wrote briefly and coldly that noth-! noth-! ing on earth would persuade me to ! destroy my hopes of rnotherhood and that the first minute he got home he could get a divorce if he wanted one. Then there was a long j silence, but last Christmas he sent , me a shawl, and a tiny red em broidered cap, but no message to Margaret. "I pulled myself together, had my baby in a ward, Joined a woman friend whose husband also is overseas. over-seas. Her mother keeps house for us, minds my baby mornings. I am on a night shift and can take Margaret Mar-garet out in the afternoons and put her to bed. We all adore her, everything every-thing works smoothly, and I never have been so happy in my life. "Now comes a letter from Bob. He has lost all but the thumb from his left hand, and is discharged. He is coming home. His letter says, 'I want you to look out for a little place for us the kid, too, I suppose. Maybe I can get my job back, but it looks as if I'd be doing dishes and washing baby-clothes for awhile. Somehow I never looked forward to my wife's supporting me, but it's only for a while.' "His letter sounds so discouraged and bitter that I simply dread meeting meet-ing him again. More than that the thought of his maimed hand sickens me; I have always had a perfect horror of physical disfigurement. If I break up this present arrangement what other can I make? I've read . your letters to service wives and mothers, asking them to make provision pro-vision for the boys' homecoming, but I have my child to think of, too; what Is best for her? Her Daddy didn't want her and doesn't know her. We have not an inch to spare, even if it would be pleasant to have a man in the house. We have one bedroom; Emily's mother sleeps on the livingroom couch, and Margaret's Marga-ret's crib is moved every night into the kitchen. This arrangement suits us perfectly, but a man's presence is unthinkable. "When we were married I had known Bob almost a year, but it was a year of dancing and dates no serious thought ever bothered us. Ilis letter sounds so discouraged ana bitter that I simply dread meeting him He was just one of the crowd; when j he was drafted he asked me to j marry him and quite naturally I did. Four months later he was gone out of my life again, and that was 18 months ago. Bob's job before be-fore the war was with a farm machinery ma-chinery company; he was a good salesman, popular, good - looking, amusing. But he seems to have changed completely. Please give real thought to my happiness my rights In this matter before you answer an-swer me. Of course I want you to say, 'Have a long talk, agree to a divorce; di-vorce; go your separate ways.' But I will be influenced by what you advise whatever it is." Sees Happy Outcome. It seems to me, Betty, that there is material for a happy outcome here, without the inescapable unpleasantness un-pleasantness of a divorce. You mustn't be too deeply influenced by what Bob wrote you when he knew the baby was coming. Perhaps he was lonely, homesick, mosquito-bitten, weary, longing for the old serene se-rene happiness of his girl and his little Florida bungalow. Perhaps he was worrying about money; wondering won-dering how long it would be before he could get the right job after the war, take the right care of you. Perhaps it stunned him to think of you facing so great a responsibility and he wrote hastily, not phrasing his letter tactfully, not waiting to think things over. The thought of that little red cap somehow touches me. That may have been a peace offering to his little girl. Since you have no room for him, have you some motherly woman friend who could take you, all three, into her home for a week or two? Or perhaps Emily and her mother would move out, and give you and Bob a chance to make each other's acquaintance again. You owe him a real welcome; affection and reassurance re-assurance and a week of home life may work a miracle in him; if once he was "popular, good-looking, amusing," he can be so again. Try to reestablish that happy little Florida Flor-ida home. |