When You Dance With The Devil Page 16

  “I’ll be back,” she said. “Thanks for being so kind.”

  When she got back to Gregory’s car, he reached across the passenger’s seat and opened the door for her, locked her seatbelt and started moving away from the curb. “What would you like to do?”

  “I’m leaving that up to you,” she said. “Maybe I’ll get an understanding of what you like. Before, we only did what I suggested.”

  “How was the visit?”

  “Better than I had hoped for. At least we can be friends.”

  “You feel like explaining that?”

  “I will, but I’m going to start at the beginning and tell you everything about myself. He, that is, the friend I visited today, said I shouldn’t do that, but I want a clean slate, and if you can’t handle it, I’ll understand. To begin with, my mother hated men, and she did everything she could to make me as wretched a woman as she was.”

  “You told me some of that.”

  “Right, but a lot has happened since then, and I’m not going to spare myself. Let’s go some place that’s not public.”

  “The only place I can think of that’s not public is my apartment. You want to go there?”

  “Definitely not. How about a place where we can just drink coffee?”

  He stopped at a small roadside coffee house near Ocean Pines. “I hope this is all right.”

  Her hands shook so badly that she put them in her lap, and when she began to talk, the chattering of her teeth made her words barely understandable.

  “If this makes you so nervous, let’s forget it, Jolene.”

  “No. I’ve thought of you every day for weeks, and I want a chance with you. But I want it honestly, because you know who I am and still want me.”

  He ordered coffee for them, and while she spoke, beginning with her mother’s funeral—almost in whispers at first—she sipped her coffee cold without realizing she tasted it. By the time she finished the story of her life, tears streamed down her face, though she was unaware of that until Gregory’s handkerchief wiped them away.

  “You don’t have to comment, Gregory. I’ll know how you feel about this by the way you act.”

  “How do you feel about Harper Masterson?”

  “Sympathy, I think. I know I’m grateful to him that because of what he suffered, I finally took a good look at myself, and I hated what I saw. I know I’m responsible for his accident, and that is very difficult to live with.”

  “But you don’t love him.”

  “That’s the awful part, Gregory; I never once thought I did.”

  “If I had known you were so naïve, not the sophisticate you made yourself out to be, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Come on. I want to show you something.” He glanced down at her feet. “Thank goodness you’re wearing comfortable shoes. I don’t see how anyone could walk in those things you had on last night.”

  She wanted to scream with laughter, to jump and shout. So far, he hadn’t said one censorial word about the awful things she’d told him. She knew he might later, but at least he planned to let them enjoy the afternoon. “Where is this place?” she asked him as he drove down to the water’s edge on the outskirts of Ocean Pines.

  He parked, went around and opened her door. Pointing to a low, one-story building, he said, “That used to be a marina, but it hasn’t been used as one for a couple of years. I bought it three months ago, and I’ve started my business making sails for small ships. I also mend them, and so far, most of my business is in mending, but I recently got a nice order to make sails for a racing boat.”

  “Congratulations, Gregory. I’m so happy for you. I remember your telling me you wanted to do this. So you left the telephone company?”

  “Full time, yes. I have consultant’s status with the company and I give them four or five hours a week, but as my business picks up, I’ll have to drop that. I forgot to ask how your job is working out.”

  “I got a raise, and I didn’t have to ask for it. I’m proud of that.”

  They walked through his sails factory, and she could see his pride in the first venture that he could call his own, as he showed her the sailcloth, ropes, and other materials that he used. By the time they left the building, they walked hand-in-hand, and she felt that if she breathed normally, he would realize it and drop her hand. She knew she wasn’t out of the woods with him, but maybe she had a chance.

  I don’t deserve it, Lord, but if you give me a chance to show my appreciation for what I trampled on and lost, I’ll cherish it and make good use of it. I promise.

  He drove her home, talking amiably as they went, and she forced herself not to ask him how he felt about the things she told him and whether they would see each other again. At the boardinghouse, he kissed her cheek.

  “Thank you for this afternoon, Jolene. I’ll call you.” He started down the steps, turned and walked back to her. “I meant to ask how you happen to know Philip Coles.”

  Flushed with relief that his question demanded nothing more than the simple truth, she said, “He’s pastor of the church my mother attended, and he recommended that I move here. You heard Fannie say he’s her brother.” When his eyebrows lifted sharply, she added. “Fannie said she looks like their father, and he looks like their mother.”

  He studied her for a second, causing her to wonder what he was looking for. His right shoulder flexed in a shrug. “It happens. We’ll speak this week.”

  From inside the door, she watched him stride to his car. At least he’s whistling a lighthearted tune, she thought. Maybe she wouldn’t see him again, and although it would hurt, she could accept it. Neither he nor Harper deserved her treatment of them, and by telling them, she had gained a sense of freedom, of relief from the burden of her past.

  “The way to get along with people is to treat ’em the way you want ’em to treat you,” Judd had said. She would try to do that but, remembering her experience with Vida, she resolved also to watch her back. With half an hour before supper time, she dashed up the stairs to her room to freshen up and met Francine at the landing.

  “You looked super in that red dress last night, Francine,” she said.

  “Thanks. Not one bit better than you did in that yellow flounce and those spike heels. You were turning heads, girl. See you later.”

  Jolene washed her face and hands, repaired her makeup, reached for her comb and stopped. She had just chatted with Francine the way the women in the beauty parlor talked with each other, and they had spoken as equals. She shook her head in wonder. Sophisticated Francine had paid her a compliment. She knew she had changed, that she had grown as a person since coming to Thank the Lord Boarding House, and she recognized in herself a new self-confidence. When and how had it happened?

  At supper, she took her usual place between Joe Tucker and Louvenia Monroe and greeted each of them. A little of Louvenia went a long way with her, but as usual, she smiled and kept the thought to herself. Fannie said grace, and Rodger served them chestnut soup that Marilyn had laced with a goodly amount of sherry.

  “Richard, why don’t you sit over here with us for a change?” Arnetha called to him from her table. “Percy doesn’t get in till tomorrow morning, and we could use another man at this table.” Silence greeted her suggestion, for Fannie had established a rule that boarders should always take their assigned seats.

  “Oh, come on, Richard,” Arnetha, a retired nurse’s aide, insisted. “Ain’t gonna hurt you to bend a little.”

  “Aw, leave him alone, Arnetha,” Louvenia said. “Let the man eat.”

  “Yeah, leave him alone,” Jolene chimed in. “Some lower class might rub off on him, and we don’t want that, do we?”

  “You didn’t have to say that, Jolene,” Joe Tucker said beneath his breath. “After all the nice things he said of you last night. You wouldn’t want him to say anything like that about you, would you?”

  She stopped eating and glanced across the room to find Richard staring at her. “Joe, I didn’t mean to . . . I didn’t think. I w
as just joining in with the talk. I mean—”

  “He’s a good fellow,” Joe said, “even if he does stay pretty much to himself. After what he did for Judd, he’s okay in my book.”

  Oh, dear. I forgot my resolution to treat people like I want to be treated. “Joe, I’m ashamed of myself. Richard’s been nice to me. I . . .” She lost her taste for the meal, although some of the items were her favorites, shoved her plate aside and asked her table mates to excuse her. But how could she leave the dining room without apologizing to Richard? Both Fannie and Richard watched her as she approached their table.

  “Richard, I just realized that what I said a minute ago wasn’t nice. I’m ashamed of myself, and especially when you’ve been so nice to me. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “It’s never good to be clever at another person’s expense,” Fannie said. “I was surprised.”

  “I wanted to feel like I belong, so I talked without thinking, and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut the way I used to. Richard, I . . . you deserved better from me.”

  “It’s all right, Jolene. Don’t sweat it.”

  He didn’t look her in the eye, and that was so unlike him. She had hurt him. “It isn’t all right, Richard, and I’m so sorry. Please excuse me, Fannie. I’m going to my room.”

  Richard didn’t join Judd and Francine in the lounge after supper. Jolene’s comment had enforced what he’d come to realize the night before. He stood at his bedroom window staring out at the blackness of the night, which was accentuated by the vast expanse of the bay and ocean in the distance. The boardinghouse had begun to feel like home; he enjoyed his volunteer work at the library and the high school, and the feeling that he belonged to no one and no place, which had plagued him for years, troubled him less frequently. But perhaps he’d been fooling himself.

  When he heard a knock on his door, he moved away from the window and went to open the door. He hoped Marilyn wouldn’t provoke him into insulting her.

  “Francine! What—?”

  “I know it’s against the rules for me to come here, Richard, but I couldn’t help it. She didn’t mean to hurt you, and she’s in her room crying about it. She just didn’t think.”

  “You came here to fix it up for Jolene?”

  “Yes. No. I couldn’t stand knowing how you’re feeling right now.”

  “Last night, I gave a very elegant party for Judd and everyone here enjoyed it, but the only people in this house who thanked me, other than Judd and Fannie, were you and Jolene. Tonight, Jolene made an unfortunate remark about me, and several people snickered. They don’t care about me.”

  She stepped into the room and gripped his arm. “Don’t say that. They just haven’t figured out how to reach you. How could they not care about you?”

  It seemed that the emptiness inside of him broadened into a deep hole, an aching void. He grabbed her shoulders. “You. What about you, Francine? Do you care about me?”

  “Yes. Of course, I—”

  “I don’t want to hear that. I need you. Do you hear me? I need you.”

  “Oh, Lord.” It slid out of her in the form of a groan and, recognizing it for what it was, he lifted her into his room, kicked the door shut, and plunged his tongue into the warm and welcoming space between her parted lips. Shivers shot through him when her arms went around his neck and tightened as the hard tips of her breasts pressed against his chest, telling him that she also needed him. For the first time in his life, he trembled in a woman’s arms.

  “Francine. Oh, Francine, I want you in my bed. I want to lose myself in you.”

  Clearly shaken, she broke the kiss and stepped away from him, her breath coming in short, rapid pants. “In all my life, I’ve only made love with one man. He loved me, and I loved him. You need me and want me, but you don’t love me. I can’t do it.” When he reached for her, she put a finger to his lips. “I’m not old-fashioned, but I won’t be an item in your collection, Richard, no matter how badly I want you. And let me tell you, I want you.” She reached up, kissed his cheek, strolled from the room and left him gaping in her wake.

  He stood there, rooted to the floor, poleaxed, wondering what had hit him. Footsteps on the stairs brought him back to himself, and he managed to close his door, wiping the sweat that poured from his temples as he did so. What I need, he told himself, is a good run. He put on a sweat suit and sneakers, slipped unnoticed down the stairs and out on to Ocean Road. He welcomed the cold wind bruising his face, and raced into it. At the corner of Ocean Road and Rhone, one block from the boardinghouse, he turned toward the beach.

  The more energy he used, the more he enjoyed the punishment to his body, the body that threatened to enslave him to a woman, something he swore would never happen. Estelle had brought him to his knees, but no other woman would be able to claim that. He was through with using women, but he was not averse to a relationship with a woman who understood that he was taking care of his needs and she was taking care of hers.

  As he neared the water, he became aware of several human figures near the water’s edge, and he slowed down. In the distance, he saw a light. It was dim, but unmistakable. Remembering Francine’s mission, he turned, raced back to the boarding house and found her in the lounge, talking with Judd.

  He greeted Judd as casually as he could. “Francine, I need to talk with you. It’s urgent.”

  “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  “Oh, now,” Judd said. “Go on, Francine. I’m not one to stand in the way of romance.”

  “You’re way off, Judd,” she said, then looked at him. “Can’t it wait?”

  Annoyed that she would put him off in Judd’s presence, he replied. “Of course it can wait, and you will be very sorry if it does.” He spun around and headed for the stairs, but she caught him before he reached the landing.

  “What’s so urgent?”

  “By now, probably nothing. I jogged down to the beach and caught your boys in action.”

  “What? Where?”

  “At the end of Rhone Street. A boat with a faint light stood some distance from shore, and at least three men were waiting for it.”

  “Excuse me.” She dashed toward her room, and he didn’t doubt her intention to call the authorities.

  “You’re probably too late,” he said when she came back to him.

  “I’m sure of it. Those guys move quickly. Still, my men will be there in minutes. You were right, I am sorry I didn’t give you a chance to tell me right away, but I’m carrying a heavy weight and I didn’t have the option of running it off.” She looked up at him. “Thank you for helping me, Richard.”

  “You’d do the same for me.” Richard went into his room and closed the door. The run might have been good for his health, but it did nothing for his emotions. He took a shower and prepared for a long night. He knew he had mistreated a lot of women, had gladly followed wherever his “devil libido” had led him, but that was behind him; he was a changed man, and he wanted to know when the hell he would stop paying for his past.

  Lord, I’m lost, Francine said to herself after she left Richard. Falling for this man is probably the dumbest thing I ever did. She went to her room, closed the door and dialed her captain. Richard was honest, personable and masculine to the core. But he was too handsome and too charming. How was a woman to know when a man had seduced her and when she loved him for his worth as a person, loved him enough to share her body with him?

  I’m too old to be so confused. A forty-seven-year-old woman should be too smart to allow a man to hoodwink her. With a sigh, she sank on to the bed, unmindful of its delicate, tissue-taffeta lavender cover. No point in trying to fool herself, she’d fallen for Richard as much for what she saw in him as a man as for his male magnetism. It’s a good thing that man doesn’t know he affects me the way a torch affects dry grass.

  “Hello? What did you get?”

  “We caught one woman because she’s too old to run away,” her captain said. “We don’t know how many were on that boat. They land
ed and scattered before we got there, and that little boat was a ghost ship. The smugglers had disappeared, too. Damn, Francine. We were so close.”

  “You think we can get any tips from that old woman?”

  “Naah. She doesn’t even know she’s in custody. Stay with it.”

  “Will do.” She hung up. The captain would give her points for that effort, but the praise really belonged to Richard. She couldn’t dwell on how that could be fixed, however, for the more time she spent thinking of Richard Peterson, the more he would mean to her. She vowed to leave Pike Hill as soon as she put Ronald Barnes in handcuffs.

  After a night of wrestling with the sheets, Richard dragged himself out of bed, brushed his teeth, washed his face, dressed, and moseyed down to the dining room, hoping to be able to eat his breakfast alone. It was not to be. Minutes after he sat down, Judd joined him.

  “From the looks of you, I’d say you don’t want company,” Judd said, “so I’ll just sit here. You don’t have to talk. I got used to eating m’ breakfast with you, and I like it that way.”

  In spite of himself, Richard couldn’t help laughing. “Enjoy your breakfast, Judd. I’m aware that I can’t get around you.”

  Rodger brought the coffee and, after cooling it with his breath, Judd took a few sips. “Francine is a nice girl. Intelligent, too. I wish the two of you would work out whatever’s bothering you and accept the fact that you’re going to be lovers.”

  Richard stopped chewing his raspberry pancake, placed his fork on his plate and looked at Judd. “Where’d you get that idea?”

  “From you and Francine. She came in the lounge looking and acting like a hen tripping over hot asphalt, and you go jogging after ten o’clock. I may be old, but I still got sense.”

  Richard sighed in resignation. “All right, but there’s nothing to it.”