When You Dance With The Devil Read online

  He sipped his ginger ale and rocked back and forth in the Shaker rocking chair. “Hmm. I take it your mother didn’t have many friends around.”

  “She didn’t have any. She didn’t like men, women or children, and she told me more than once that she wished she’d never seen my father. She died like she lived . . . with nobody near but me.”

  “Well, I see you’re planning a better life for yourself, and that’s good. The way to have friends is to be a friend, but that doesn’t mean being a footstool for anybody. Friendship is a mutual relationship, and it takes a long time to develop. Treat people the way you want ’em to treat you, and that goes for men as well as women.”

  Did he know about her and Gregory or her and Harper? “It’s hard to know how to act with people.”

  “No, it isn’t. Always do what’s right, and you don’t have to figure it out.”

  In spite of the air conditioning, her body began to perspire and she had to resist fanning herself. “I have a few things to do before lunch, so if you’ll excuse me . . . I enjoyed talking with you. Maybe we can talk again sometime.”

  “Sure. That’s the great advantage of living in a place like this. We support each other.”

  Inside her room, she closed the blinds to shut out the sunlight that seemed as blistering as if it were mid-July. “Why did I tell him all that? Maybe he knows I made a play for Percy and then turned him down. Lord, I hope not.” She walked to the window, turned and retraced her steps. I wish I had been nicer to Gregory, but I didn’t know. Mama always said women shouldn’t trust men, that they were only after what they could get, and that we should do to them before they did to us. Maybe she was wrong. I just don’t know.

  Around five that afternoon when the sun had become less intense, she went out of the house and stood by the front steps looking across the park. “If I had a car, I’d get in it and just drive and drive,” she said to herself. Without thinking of a destination, she set out down Ocean Road, and when she reached Bay Avenue, she turned toward the beach and continued walking. As she neared the water, she sensed the peacefulness of her surroundings, the quiet broken only by the lapping and sloshing of the distant waves. She sat on a boulder that looked as if it had spent centuries in that spot and wished she’d brought something to read.

  The ocean breeze began to cool her skin, the sunrays had disappeared, and she realized that she’d sat there for over an hour.

  “It isn’t a good idea to be out here alone late in the day and, in any case, I don’t suppose you want Fannie to lecture you about being late for supper.”

  She looked up to see Richard Peterson standing a few feet away. “You’re right. The time just slipped away from me. It’s so peaceful here that I hate to leave.”

  “Tourists don’t usually come over here, so we have it to ourselves. It’s what makes living here worthwhile.” He seemed thoughtful. “Look, Miss Tilman. If you’re not busy Tuesdays and Thursdays from four-thirty to six-thirty, we could use you at the library. We hold children’s computer classes then, and—”

  She didn’t let him finish it. “I don’t know much about computers, Mr. Peterson, only enough for what I have to do at work.”

  “We have a man to teach the children, but we need someone to help me discipline them.”

  She could do it, she knew, because her success with Vida’s twins was proof of it, but she couldn’t face Gregory Hicks again. “I’m so beat from standing on my feet all day that I won’t have the energy,” she told him. “And besides, I was just thinking that if I stay here much longer, I’ll grow old with no purpose in life just like my mother. A bitter, unpleasant old woman. I need to leave Pike Hill.”

  “Look,” he said, falling into step with her as they headed home, “you have to pull yourself out of this.”

  “If you’d been where I’ve been, you’d think I’m doing great.”

  He slowed his steps. “What do you mean?”

  “Mr. Peterson, the story of my life is long and dreary. I’m working my way out of it as best I can. Something tells me I’m going to have to reinvent myself, and maybe I should begin that somewhere else.”

  “I’m anything but an expert on running one’s life, but I can tell you that no matter where you go, your misery goes with you. Best thing is to deal with it right here.”

  She stopped and looked at the man with new eyes and a different level of understanding. “Is that what you’re doing?”

  He kicked at the sand beneath his feet. “You could say that.”

  Encouraged, she said, “I hope you at least had a mother who cared about you.”

  He seemed startled before he said, “She dotes on me. What about your father? Didn’t he look out for you?”

  She pulled air through her front teeth. “My father? I don’t have the slightest idea who he is.”

  “Good Lord. I am terribly sorry.” He stopped, evidently disconcerted for having asked her a question that he thought embarrassed her, and she watched, horrified, as his fingers punished his scalp and a frown clouded his face.

  All she could think of then was a means of escape. “I’d better hurry, since I have to dress before supper,” she said and scampered off, humiliated for having exposed her shortcomings to a man obviously of high status.

  For long minutes, Richard remained where she’d left him, bewildered by his own reaction to the disadvantages and what must have been suffering of another human being. He had felt for the woman, had for a moment put himself in her place and wondered how he would have fared if he’d suffered as she obviously had.

  “This is terrible,” he said to himself. “She believes I think badly of her.” He walked on to the boardinghouse, more slowly than was his wont, and reached it with barely enough time to wash up and get to his seat in the dining room by seven o’clock.

  At supper, he did his best not to let Jolene catch him watching her, but she had become an enigma to him, a puzzle that bothered him. His ability at problem solving was the primary reason why he reached the top in the diplomatic field, and he meant to solve the problem of Jolene. For a start, he wanted to know why she had toyed with Percy Lucas.

  “That one’s easy,” Judd said when Richard broached the matter while they played blackjack later that evening. “Nobody dishes out pain with more skill than those who’ve been its victims.”

  “In other words, nobody uses like one who’s been used? Right?”

  “That’s about it,” Judd said, “but there’s hope for that one, because she’ll listen.”

  Richard glanced to his left to see a small table beside his chair, and looked around as Marilyn approached him with a pot of coffee and a tray of noel cookies.

  “You’re not about to turn these down,” she said. “Judd will tell you how good they are. He loves them.”

  He stared at her. “Thanks, but in that case, I suggest you put this table beside Judd’s chair. I don’t care for any cookies.”

  She fastened her knuckles to her hips and smiled at him. “Richard, nobody turns down my cookies.”

  He tossed out a joker and smiled triumphantly at his card partner. “I wouldn’t either if they didn’t come with a price.”

  She sidled up to him. “Now, Richard, that’s not true. I just want to be friendly. That’s all.”

  He looked at Judd. “Friendly, eh? I’m supposed to believe that? Next, she’ll pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining.”

  Marilyn stomped off, and Judd leaned back in the rocker and released a guffaw. “Ain’t heard nothing that funny in years. You can put that little table over here. Nothing on it will go to waste.” He winked at Richard. “I got you to thank for these. They’re m’ favorites, and she knows it, but you see who she gave them to. The old girl ain’t dead yet.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead and buried. Pass me a couple of those cookies.” He went to the water cooler and got a paper cup. “You use that cup and saucer she brought, Judd. I don’t want her to see me with it. You’d have thought she’d bring y
ou a cup and saucer.”

  Judd savored a cookie and sipped the coffee. “You don’t know Marilyn. I told you she’s like poverty; you can’t get rid of it, and you can’t get rid of her.”

  “I look at her as payment for my sins. But if she doesn’t back off, I’ll change tactics and take everything she offers except what she most wants me to have. And if she acts out, I’ll charge her with sexual harassment.”

  “D . . . don’t do that,” Judd sputtered. “This is the best kitchen in Pike Hill, and if she went to jail, I’d miss all these good meals. I’d have to testify against you.”

  Richard laughed in spite of his effort to appear serious. “Now I know that your real friend is your belly.” He sobered at once. “Can you believe Jolene Tilman’s sitting over there in an animated conversation with Lila Mae Henry. First time I’ve seen her talk with a woman.”

  “Same here,” Judd said. “Jolene’s lonely. Maybe she and Lila Mae can become friends. It would be a blessing.”

  Chapter Six

  Jolene pulled her chair closer to Lila Mae Henry, a short woman who fit perfectly into a size twenty dress. “I wanted to go to college, but my mama said college would be wasted on me. Did you finish?”

  “Sure thing, and I got my masters degree, too,” Lila Mae said, her eyes sparkling in her attractive, animated face. “You can still go in the evenings. Course, you’d miss the campus fun that full-time students have.” Her gaze shifted to the ceiling. “I guess you’ve passed the age for that kind of foolishness anyway.”

  Maybe, but she would still like to experience it. She leaned forward, eager to learn about college. “What kind of fun did you have? I thought you just studied in college.”

  Lila Mae slapped the side of her jaw and rolled her eyes, suggesting that the thought was ludicrous. “Girl, go way from here. You kidding? Me and my roommate used to kill a half pint of booze every Saturday night. My dad’s a preacher, and he wouldn’t even let my sister and me wear lipstick and perfume. Soon as I got to college, I went wild.

  “I was popular because I was the drummer in the jazz band.” She held both hands up, palms out. “If daddy had known that, he would have jerked me out of Hampton faster than a tornado shoots through flat land. Anyhow, I was slim in those days, and what with playing in the band and being on the speed skating and fencing teams, I had a ball. I quit boozing in my junior year when the dean caught us and I nearly got expelled.”

  “Gee. I don’t drink. My mama didn’t allow any alcoholic drinks in the house. She said that only loose women drank.”

  Lila Mae sucked air through her teeth. “She must have been related to my dad. He was so restrictive that he made every sinful thing appear enticing. Soon as I left home, I did practically everything he told me not to do.”

  “Didn’t you feel guilty?”

  “About what? I was young.”

  Maybe that was the difference, because she was certainly ashamed of the bad things she’d done. “What about boys? Did you . . . uh . . . you know?”

  Lila Mae buffed her nails on the sleeve of her blouse. “Yes, indeedy. That, too. And here I am stuck in this place with four men—five if you count Rodger, three of whom don’t inspire me to walk in my sleep—and one who wouldn’t open his door if I did.”

  “If Richard opened his door, what would you do?”

  Lila Mae’s face took on the expression of a purring feline. “I’d crawl in, girl. He can walk around with his head high like he’s the president of the United States, but he can’t fool me. That man’s a stud.”

  “Richard? He’s a gentleman.”

  Lila Mae’s laugh rang throughout the lounge. “Grace and charm are part of being a stud, girl. Don’t you know that? I’ll bet he can’t count the women he’s had.”

  “Francine’s his type.”

  “Women are his type. I’m waiting to see what he’s going to do with Marilyn. She’s after him like a cat after a mouse.”

  “He won’t go for her.”

  “If you set food in front of a hungry man, he’s not likely to push it aside. Trust me.”

  Jolene put her hand over her mouth to cut off a yawn. “Don’t you like him? He’s handsome.”

  Lila Mae flexed her left shoulder in a quick shrug. “I learned long ago to like who likes me and not to want what I can’t get. He wouldn’t look twice at me.”

  Eager for her first lesson in the ways of men, Jolene sought to prolong the conversation. “Why not? You’re nice looking.”

  “Girl, wake up. That man’s never been inside of a size twenty and never will, no matter what kind of face is on top of it.”

  “My mama always said men are only after what they can get.”

  “I hate to tell you, honey, but your mama had it all wrong. Some guys are wonderful. You have to know how to pick them and what to do with ’em after you get ’em.”

  “You ever been married?”

  Lila Mae frowned, and an expression of sadness swept over her face. “Yeah. And to a great guy, but I messed up, and that was that. I have to do some lesson plans for tomorrow. Nice talking with you.”

  For a while, Jolene remained as Lila Mae left her, trying to digest the woman’s words and to understand her attitudes. Finally, nonplussed, she headed for her room. “I’m not happy with who I am, but I’m not sure I want to be like her.”

  Up in her room, she stood at the window gazing out past the darkness to the stars that blanketed the night sky and shudders crept threw her body. She folded her arms beneath her breasts for comfort. I wish I hadn’t ruined everything with Gregory. I could help Richard for an hour with the children in the computer classes, and I could go to church with Fannie sometime. I could even walk to the library tomorrow evening with Judd. She sniffed to avoid crying, If I was just coming to Pike Hill and knew what I know now, I’d do everything differently.

  Jolene overslept the next morning, had to leave the boarding house without breakfast, and hopped on the bus a minute before the driver closed the door. She paid her fare and, unable to force herself to take a seat, lingered at the front of the bus. When the driver’s radio emitted the haunting strains of “Where Was I?” she turned to go.

  “Anything I can do for you, sis?” the driver asked.

  She walked back to him. “Have you heard anything from Harper Masterson?”

  “I hear he’s still slipping in and out of a coma. You sure there’s nothing between the two of you?”

  “I rode his bus twice a day for three months. Isn’t that enough to care about a person?” she said. But did it explain the guilt she felt when she thought of him? Nobody had to tell her that he’d been thinking of her when he wrecked his car.

  The driver stopped at a railroad crossing for the approaching train and looked at her. “Hey. Don’t bark at me. Go see him for yourself. This bus stops three blocks from Mercy Hospital.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  The morning passed and, at the beauty parlor, Vida ignored Jolene as if she weren’t there. “What’s with you two?” her boss asked. “I don’t want my workers mad at each other. The customers can sense it.” She told him the truth. “You should have caught on the first time,” he said. “Every gal in this shop is on to Vida. Leave her alone.”

  “I have, sir, but I feel sorry for her children.”

  “We all do, but that’s no reason to stick your head in the fire.”

  She remembered Judd’s advice and nodded. “I have a lot to learn. I’m thinking about taking some evening classes.”

  “Yeah? Education is a good thing: Go for it! But textbooks don’t teach you how to deal with people. Experience teaches you that.” He patted her shoulder. “You’ll do all right.”

  She didn’t know why, but she felt better about herself. Saturday, I’m going to see Harper and tell him how sorry I am. If I hadn’t upset him, maybe he wouldn’t have had that accident.

  “Harper, this is Jolene,” she whispered, looking down at the man’s bandaged head, arms and shoulders that gave him the
appearance of a mummy. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes. I hear you.”

  “I’m sorry about your accident. That . . . and everything else. I didn’t act right. Do you need anything?”

  “Like what?”

  She thought for a minute. What did men use that he might need or enjoy? “I could read to you, bring you some toilet articles, or maybe some food.”

  A groan escaped him, and she leaned closer. “Something must be wrong with my head,” he said. “You don’t do things for people. Remember? You have people doing things for you.”

  She hadn’t expected animosity. Indeed, she hadn’t anticipated any kind of reaction from him. “I told you I am sorry. I’m sorry about a lot of things, and I’m trying to make amends.”

  “Well, don’t have a guilt trip on my account. The doctor told me this morning that I’ll be as good as new. It’ll take a couple of months, but I’ll get there. Pull that shade down before you go. The sun’s shining right in my eyes.”

  She pulled the shade. “I hope you’ll be better soon.” He didn’t respond. “Bye,” she said, but she wasn’t sure that he heard her, for he didn’t answer.

  She met a doctor in the corridor. “Doctor, when did Harper Masterson come out of the coma?”

  “A couple of days ago. Surprised all of us. He’s out of danger, and from now on he ought to make good progress.”

  She had to be certain. “So his thinking is clear?”

  “Clear as a blue sky.”

  She thanked him and hurried out of the hospital. It hadn’t been pleasant. Harper didn’t appreciate her visit, but she was glad she’d gone to see him for she felt less guilty. On the way home, she stopped at a flower stall and bought a bunch of chrysanthemums. She loved flowers, and those yellow and white blooms complemented her room.