Bart – Southern Gentleman

"Any sign of him yet?"

My eyes darted back and forth along the hallway, searching in vain for any sign of Pappy. He'd left over two hours ago to talk to Olivia, and we'd seen or heard nothing from him since. Even I was worried by the length of time he'd been gone.

"None," was the only answer I could give Bret.

I pulled my head back inside the stateroom and closed the door, heaving a rather large sigh as I lowered myself onto the settee. "What could they be talkin' about all this time?"

Bret was pacing the length of the room. "He didn't look happy when he left."

"He hasn't looked happy since he had to bail us out of jail."

Bret grimaced. "That's true. You think he believes us about not being drunk yet?"

"He's got to." Nothing had been said about the altercation with Langley since we'd gotten back to the hotel, but it was pretty obvious, to everyone except the officers that had arrested us I guess, that neither of us was or had been drunk. Pappy's outburst earlier was probably nothing more than him being very unhappy about having to spend two thousand dollars to get us out of jail. He was probably pretty unhappy about us just plain being in jail, too.

"I guess you're right," Bret said. He stopped pacing and flopped down in the chair opposite me. The groan that followed that action told me Bret was just as stiff and sore as I was.

We sat in silence for some time before I heard footsteps in the hall. I was about to get up again when the door swung open and a familiar face appeared. Pappy looked subdued when he came in, and I didn't like it. Difficult as he can be, he is my father, and I don't want to see him hurt any more than I do Bret. I may have been the one that started the whole get rid of Olivia thing, but Pappy deserved to be happy. If Olivia was what made him happy, we should be able to accept her. No matter how hard the idea of them together was to swallow.

"How ya doin', Pappy?"

"Just fine, Bartley." I wondered if that was all I was going to get.

"Did you see Olivia?"

"I did."

"And?"

Pappy sat down. "We have an understanding."

"I'm sorry." And I was, for everything. Having been such a pain about Olivia before, all the twists and turns this trip had taken from the start, the fight, getting arrested, his trouble with Olivia now, all of it.

Pappy gave me a look like he didn't quite understand me. "For what?"

"Does that mean . . ."

Bret interrupted. He seemed to be as confused as we were. "What kind of an understanding, Pappy?"

"Olivia knows we're leavin' in the mornin'." Pappy suddenly looked a little less burdened. "She sort of feels responsible for all this." I wanted to say she was right but I didn't think that would help anything.

Bret was nothing if not persistent. "What kind of an understanding?" he asked again. I could hear the strain in the words; would Pappy really offer matrimony to the girl?

There was a sigh, then Pappy delivered the news. "Olivia and Martin have reconciled."

"That's good, isn't it?" Big brother struggled mightily to keep the elation out of his voice. Don't get me wrong; I'm sure Bret wanted Pappy to be happy as much as I did. It's just that we hoped it would be with someone closer to his own . . . age.

A long pause ensued while Pappy pondered the question. Bret had delivered the inquiry, but it was me that he addressed the reply to. "I didn't lose the love of my life, Bartley. I knew she was gettin' ready to forgive him. Still, I can't say I wasn't just a bit disappointed by the way she went about it. I was thinkin' she'd . . . ." He shook his head and he sort of smirked. "Who knows why a woman does anything?"

Bret stood and circled around the back of the settee, where Pappy couldn't see his face and the smile slowly spreading across it. "What made her change her mind? I thought she wasn't speakin' to him?"

Pappy reached inside his coat and pulled out a cigar. He fiddled around for a minute before striking a match and lighting it, then drawing deeply on the stogie. There was just a tinge of melancholy in his voice as he repeated to us what Olivia had imparted to him.

That night we met on the riverboat . . . that wasn't the first time they'd quarreled. Nothing major, just a long string of petty disagreements that seemed to grow with each passin' day. Olivia couldn't even remember what that particular quarrel was about, she just knew she'd had enough to last for a good long while. She turned to walk away from him when he reached out and grabbed her arm – and that's when she saw me. Galant southern gentleman to the rescue, of course, and instead of ending another night in tears she ended it on my arm in laughter.

She'd forgotten what it felt like to enjoy herself, and she was delighted when we ended up staying at the same hotel. I made her laugh and feel gay, with none of the issues of everyday living she and Martin seemed to be at odds over. The longer they stayed apart, the guiltier she felt, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they resolved their differences and reconciled; they really do seem to love each other.

Martin was confused and disturbed; he was convinced that I was just a kindly old gentleman and Bret was the man she was truly involved with. That's why he kept followin' Bret around, tryin' to make some sense of the whole thing. He admitted to bein' drunk last night and startin' the . . . altercation. Olivia finally went to see him at the jail, and both of them feel rather foolish now.

"By the way, Bartley, that blonde you saw Martin with is his cousin. She'd come to meet 'em and finish plannin' the wedding."

I grimaced; his cousin. Well, Olivia and Martin weren't the only ones who felt foolish. I was saved from having to comment when Bret broke in.

"Me?" Bret questioned. "He thought it was me?"

Pappy nodded. "So it seems."

"I guess that makes a little more sense." He hesitated slightly and then posed another question. "And that's all this ever was? Olivia wasn't lookin' for an older gentleman to take care of her? And you weren't lookin' for a sweet young thing to light your fires on a cold winter night?"

The look that crossed Pappy's face was priceless, and if Bret had been any closer, Pappy might have slapped him. As it was, he just turned around and drilled Bret with a look; a look that I've seen many times but one that wasn't often sent in Bret's direction.

Bret was silent for a long moment before he meekly offered a shrug. "You were spendin' an awful lot of time with her."

Any and all fears I had that Pappy was nursing even the smallest of cracks in his heart were laid to rest when he scoffed in disbelief and turned back away from Bret fighting a smile. The smile wasn't entirely hidden from Bret though, and his own smile found its way back to his face. Then he laughed. Before long both he and Pappy had started giggling like schoolgirls. Sure, they could laugh about it. I was the one with the black eye.