more time at home than he does. But maybe I don’t remember exactly.”
Claudia was disappointed. She had wanted to be assured that, yes, that’s how all boys—all young men—were. She had hoped, too, that Cliff and Ted would form a bond; pictures of them going off together with fishing rods and a box lunch went floating through her imagination. But nothing of the sort had happened. It certainly wasn’t Cliff’s fault. In his quiet way he was the friendliest, the most approachable, of men.
Abruptly, she thought of something else and, frowning a little, wondered aloud: “It’s strange that Charlotte hasn’t come here lately. It must be three weeks now. I’ve asked her, but she always has an excuse. And I thought we were getting along just fine.”
“The poor kid’s all upset. Bill’s sick over it. It has nothing to do with you.”
Claudia shook her head. “People make so much trouble for themselves. That Elena—”
Someone was coming up the gravel walk. At the foot of the steps he stopped and, in a polite voice, introduced himself.
“Hugh Bowman. I don’t like to intrude, butthere’s a personal matter I need to talk about. It’s quite serious.”
“Come in. Sit down,” Cliff said at once.
“Thank you.” Mr. Bowman sat erectly, a rather formal, proper man whose words were therefore all the more astonishing. “It’s about your son, Ted.” And as Claudia started, “No, there’s been no accident, he’s not hurt. But he ought to be hurt. A good many other men in my position would take care of that.”
Claudia gasped. “What is it? What has he done?”
“He has behaved disgracefully to my daughter. Insultingly. It happened on the way back from the movies last night. I don’t care to go into details. She arrived home with her dress torn.” Bowman’s voice was quiet, but his face was flushed. “Fortunately, Joan’s all right. She had a handbag with metal trim. It cut his cheek.”
This morning at breakfast Ted had told them, making a joke of it, that he had walked right into a screen door.
Humiliated, as if she herself had been caught shoplifting or breaking china in a store, Claudia appealed with frightened eyes from one man to the other.
“I don’t understand.… Ted never …” Her voice broke.
Cliff got up immediately to stand beside her with his hand on her shoulder. “This is a terrible shock to my wife,” he began, when Bowman interrupted.
“I understand. Believe me, I didn’t come here to start any trouble, to go to the school authorities ordo anything. We, my wife and I, don’t want anything like that. This is awful for you. We only want to tell you so that you can take control of your son before something worse happens. That’s all.” He paused, not looking at Cliff and Claudia, but out into the trees. “I’m sure you’ll know what to do, Mr. Dawes. I’m just sorry about the whole thing.”
“Ted’s my son,” Claudia said, “not Cliff’s.”
“I know. The Daweses are well known in Kingsley.” Bowman stepped down from the porch, repeating, “I’m sorry to have upset you like this. But I’m sure you understand that I had to.”
“Of course,” Cliff said. He had both hands on Claudia’s trembling shoulders. “I’ll send him to your house to apologize first thing in the morning, or even tonight.”
“No, please don’t. I wouldn’t want Joan to go through that. The only thing you can do is teach him.…”
“Oh, I assure you I’ll teach him,” Cliff said grimly.
They watched Bowman go down the walk. They were both speechless. Then Cliff said, “He was remarkably decent about it. Not everyone would be that reasonable.”
She felt so ashamed before her husband. They were hardly married a year, and Cliff’s face had turned red in front of a stranger because of her son. What in God’s name had come over Ted?
“I don’t know what to say,” she murmured, beginning to cry. In ten minutes or less a world totters.
“Don’t,” Cliff said
Claudia was disappointed. She had wanted to be assured that, yes, that’s how all boys—all young men—were. She had hoped, too, that Cliff and Ted would form a bond; pictures of them going off together with fishing rods and a box lunch went floating through her imagination. But nothing of the sort had happened. It certainly wasn’t Cliff’s fault. In his quiet way he was the friendliest, the most approachable, of men.
Abruptly, she thought of something else and, frowning a little, wondered aloud: “It’s strange that Charlotte hasn’t come here lately. It must be three weeks now. I’ve asked her, but she always has an excuse. And I thought we were getting along just fine.”
“The poor kid’s all upset. Bill’s sick over it. It has nothing to do with you.”
Claudia shook her head. “People make so much trouble for themselves. That Elena—”
Someone was coming up the gravel walk. At the foot of the steps he stopped and, in a polite voice, introduced himself.
“Hugh Bowman. I don’t like to intrude, butthere’s a personal matter I need to talk about. It’s quite serious.”
“Come in. Sit down,” Cliff said at once.
“Thank you.” Mr. Bowman sat erectly, a rather formal, proper man whose words were therefore all the more astonishing. “It’s about your son, Ted.” And as Claudia started, “No, there’s been no accident, he’s not hurt. But he ought to be hurt. A good many other men in my position would take care of that.”
Claudia gasped. “What is it? What has he done?”
“He has behaved disgracefully to my daughter. Insultingly. It happened on the way back from the movies last night. I don’t care to go into details. She arrived home with her dress torn.” Bowman’s voice was quiet, but his face was flushed. “Fortunately, Joan’s all right. She had a handbag with metal trim. It cut his cheek.”
This morning at breakfast Ted had told them, making a joke of it, that he had walked right into a screen door.
Humiliated, as if she herself had been caught shoplifting or breaking china in a store, Claudia appealed with frightened eyes from one man to the other.
“I don’t understand.… Ted never …” Her voice broke.
Cliff got up immediately to stand beside her with his hand on her shoulder. “This is a terrible shock to my wife,” he began, when Bowman interrupted.
“I understand. Believe me, I didn’t come here to start any trouble, to go to the school authorities ordo anything. We, my wife and I, don’t want anything like that. This is awful for you. We only want to tell you so that you can take control of your son before something worse happens. That’s all.” He paused, not looking at Cliff and Claudia, but out into the trees. “I’m sure you’ll know what to do, Mr. Dawes. I’m just sorry about the whole thing.”
“Ted’s my son,” Claudia said, “not Cliff’s.”
“I know. The Daweses are well known in Kingsley.” Bowman stepped down from the porch, repeating, “I’m sorry to have upset you like this. But I’m sure you understand that I had to.”
“Of course,” Cliff said. He had both hands on Claudia’s trembling shoulders. “I’ll send him to your house to apologize first thing in the morning, or even tonight.”
“No, please don’t. I wouldn’t want Joan to go through that. The only thing you can do is teach him.…”
“Oh, I assure you I’ll teach him,” Cliff said grimly.
They watched Bowman go down the walk. They were both speechless. Then Cliff said, “He was remarkably decent about it. Not everyone would be that reasonable.”
She felt so ashamed before her husband. They were hardly married a year, and Cliff’s face had turned red in front of a stranger because of her son. What in God’s name had come over Ted?
“I don’t know what to say,” she murmured, beginning to cry. In ten minutes or less a world totters.
“Don’t,” Cliff said
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