She sought solace in one of her books, but the magic didn’t work, and it was the old Sara Jolene who trudged down the stairs that night, walked into the dining room and took her assigned seat without looking left or right or saying a word to anyone. She got up to leave the table and saw that Philip Coles had faced her across the room during the entire meal. But if she had looked in his direction, her gaze would have landed on Percy Lucas, and she preferred never to see him again, so she had focused on her plate.
“Join us in the lounge?” Fannie asked her. She shook her head and was the recipient of Fannie’s glare of disapproval.
“Maybe later,” she said, and didn’t stop walking until she was in her room with the door closed. Sitting alone on the side of her bed, she asked herself why she couldn’t chitchat with people the way the other residents in the house did with ease. And what had she wanted from Percy? Would it have been better, as he said, if he’d dressed it up with flowers and a meal at a nice restaurant? And if he had, would his stripping, getting into bed and telling her to “come on” have disgusted her anyway? Was the way men treated the women in her books a fairy tale, lies that made the women who read them miserable? She wished she knew.
She got up and began preparing for bed. “I’m going to find the answer to that if it takes the rest of my life,” she vowed. “I want what’s coming to me.”
“What was that all about?” Judd asked Richard later, as they sat alone in the lounge.
“You mean Miss Tilman? I dunno. You would have thought she’d be happy to see the pastor of her mother’s church.”
“Oh, that? I was talking about the way you were studying her, first during supper and then in the lounge here. You made her cringe. I saw it with m’ own two eyes, and there was no lust in it. Did you catch her at something?”
“I never talk about a thing unless I’m sure of my ground, Judd.”
“Or unless you figure it’s something you should keep your mouth shut about. Well, I respect a man who keeps his own counsel.”
“Sure you don’t want to go with me to the library tomorrow evening?”
“For what? To sit around watching people learn how to use a computer? Anybody who’s not making a contribution is in the way. Besides, I spend enough time watching other people live.”
Richard patted Judd’s shoulder. “You’re a tough one, friend.”
As he scaled the stairs two steps at a time, he realized that he enjoyed the old man’s company, that he had begun to regard him as a friend, and he had never thought that of any man. He didn’t have men friends, as much for the judgment of other men as for his own reasons. He had always preferred the company of women and saw men as competitors, obstacles to be pushed from his path by whatever means he chose.
He entered the dining room at a quarter of seven the following morning, intent upon forcing Jolene Tilman either to ignore him or to talk with him, since he knew they would be the only two eating at that time. He read Cooper’s The Future Has a Past until the kitchen door swung open promptly at seven and the odor of fresh perking coffee wafted into the room, teasing his nostrils with images of the food to come.
Simultaneously, Jolene walked into the dining room. “Good morning,” he said. “We’re the only ones here. Will you join me?”
He’d never seen a deer caught in the glare of headlights, but from her reaction he could imagine what it was like. He had no doubt then that she had fled the lounge the previous evening because she thought he would confront her about something.
“I’m running a seminar on uses of the computer,” he hastened to say, “and I was wondering if you’d be interested.”
She stopped walking toward her assigned seat, turned and came back to him. “I have to use the computer at my job, and so far, I can’t get the hang of it. I can type in the records, but that’s all.” She sat down, and he relaxed, aware that he had thrown her the perfect hook.
“Adult classes are from eight to ten Tuesday and Thursday nights at the library on M. L. King Jr. Avenue next to the Town Hall.”
“I ought to be able to make that, since I can finish supper by a quarter of eight, provided Marilyn will serve me my dessert separately.”
“I’m sure she will.” He intended to skip dessert rather than give the woman an opportunity to resume making passes at him.
“How’re you making out here? Adjusting to a town this size isn’t easy,” he said, fishing for something that would draw her into conversation.
“It’s no worse than Hagerstown,” she said, keeping her gaze on the biscuits that Rodger placed before them. “I know as many people here as I did there.”
“But you grew up there, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t have anything to do with not knowing people. You’ve been here almost as long as “I have, and you don’t know any of the people who live here accept Judd and maybe Fannie. Where’d you grow up?”
So she knew how to turn the screw. “New York City.”
“How are y’all, this morning,” Lila Mae Henry, the fourth grade teacher, said, taking her assigned seat. “I sure don’t welcome this heat today. Friday was the last day of school, and I thank the Lord.”
There went his opportunity to find out what Jolene Tilman was up to. “What are you doing for the summer?” he asked Lila Mae.
“I got a job as a cashier at WalMart, and you don’t know how happy I am that I can keep my room here. If I’d gone home to Virginia, Fannie would put someone else in my room in a minute. And you can’t blame her; she has bills to pay.”
“Did she get any one to take Ronald Barnes’s room?” he asked, his curiosity about it almost nonexistent.
“Somebody said she was negotiating with a woman in Ocean City, or maybe Ocean Pines. I forget which.”
“Have a good day,” he said, mostly to Jolene, as he rose to leave the table. “Hope to see you at the seminar tomorrow night. We have an excellent computer science teacher.”
“Who’s that?” Lila Mae asked. “Could be someone I know.”
“Gregory Hicks. He’s with the telephone company in Ocean Pines.”
When Jolene’s fork clattered to the table and her eyes rounded to double in size, he knew he wouldn’t see her at the computer classes. The fact that Hicks would be teaching the classes gave her a solid jolt. He was certain of it. Who besides Percy, Bob Tucker and, now, Gregory Hicks had she been involved with?
“When did you say you came to Ocean Pines?” he asked, looking directly at Jolene.
“March.”
He nodded. A lot of traffic in three short months. She didn’t look the type, but what you saw wasn’t necessarily what you got. He went to the lounge for the morning edition of The Maryland Journal. He didn’t care what Jolene Tilman did, but he hated the thought of her entrapping an unsuspecting, unsophisticated, and lonely man like Percy Lucas. He had exploited women, many of them, but he could say that, with that one glaring exception, he had always let the woman take the lead. If she wanted a player, he accommodated her. If she got more than she bargained for, he never regarded that as his problem. And from the looks of Percy the previous evening at supper, he’d swear Jolene did a job on him.
Hell! Who am I to accuse her? Remembering how Jolene had folded into herself, he shrugged. They might have messed up each other’s heads.
“There you are, Miss,” he heard Fannie exclaim. “Reverend Coles was extremely disappointed that you didn’t seem pleased to see him, especially when he came mostly to find out how you were getting along after your mother’s death. You hardly spoke to him.” Fannie had her good points, but her sanctimoniousness grated on him. He closed his door.
Jolene’s hands went to her hips. It didn’t take much to exasperate her with Fannie. “He didn’t pay much attention to me all those years when my mama treated me as if I were her personal slave, so how was I to know he’d suddenly started worrying about my well-being? I’m not a mind reader.”
Fannie looked toward the ceiling. “Lord, give me s
trength. He was probably trying to guide your mother.”
“No he wasn’t. For six years, she was bedridden, unable to go out of the house. Except to bring communion every three months, he didn’t go into her house until I sent for him a couple of weeks before she died. I don’t know what he wants from me.”
“Philip is a good man, a man of God, and you be careful how you speak of him.”
“Yes, ma’am. Excuse me, but I have to leave now or I’ll miss my bus to Salisbury.”
She reached the bus stop as the driver was closing the door. “Come on. Get in. You know I don’t wait for anybody. I have to keep my schedule.”
She thanked him, paid her fare, and sat down to read her book. “What are you always reading?” he asked, and she realized that he watched her through the rear view mirror.”
“A book. No point in wasting a good hour when I could be reading.”
“I’d like to know what’s in those books that keeps your nose stuck to them like a fly to flypaper. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m losing my touch.”
Losing his touch? She closed the book and focused on him. A big guy. Over six feet tall, she surmised—although she had only seen him standing once—lean and muscular. And young! He couldn’t be a day older than she. Hmmm, she’d have to pay more attention to him.
Vida Boney, a hairdresser at the shop in which she worked, asked Jolene, “Want to stop by, meet my family, and have a cup of coffee or tea before you go home? It’s walking distance from here.”
Jolene thought for a minute. Vida was always nice to her. If she went, maybe they could become friends, and she would have someone with whom to talk and ask questions about the things she read in her books. Yet she hesitated.
“I take my dinner where I live, and the landlady won’t like it if I’m late.”
“Tell her you were with a friend and forgot the time. At least, stay for a few minutes. I promise to get you back to the bus stop in time.”
Friend? Did Vida regard her as a friend? She didn’t see how that was possible. Still . . . “Okay. I’ll stop by for a few minutes.”
Vida’s three-year-old twin daughters greeted Jolene with laughs and giggles, took her hand, and led her to their private sanctum, where they insisted that she play with their toys and games and read to them from their books. She’d had no experience with small children and was impressed that they seemed captivated with her. When she remembered to look at her watch, she saw that she had less than twenty minutes to get to the bus stop.
“I’ll come back again,” she assured the twins, who were loathe to see her leave. She ran most of the way and reached the bus as the driver was about to close the door.
“What’re you up to?” the bus driver asked her. “Lately, you come close to missing me every evening. You were late this morning, too.”
So he’d been watching her! “You knew I’d be here,” she said and took the front seat across from him. “What’re you up to?” Too bad you couldn’t tell by looking at a man whether he would be affectionate and treat you as if you were the most precious person on earth. She’d had sex with Jim and hadn’t felt anything. She hadn’t wanted to do anything with Bob, because she feared he would tell his brother, Joe, and Percy made her feel like trash. Gregory hadn’t bothered to bring up the subject.
“What’s your name?” she asked the bus driver.
“Harper Masterson. He glanced toward her, a grin displaying his even white teeth. “Any particular reason why you wanted to know?”
“It’s easier to talk to a person if you know his or her name.”
“Don’t you plan to tell me yours, or is this some kind of game?”
She told him her name and added, “And you keep it to yourself.”
His chuckle surprised her, because she had meant that he shouldn’t yell out her name when she boarded or left the bus. “Are you on the lam or something? You sure don’t look the type. People say the river that runs silent runs deep, and I bet that applies to you.” He pulled up to a stop, opened the door and let two women board. “What do you do on Sundays? That’s my day off.”
This time, she was going to let the man worry a little bit. She folded her arms and leaned back, her mind spinning with ways to inveigle him into getting involved with her. “I know what I’ll do,” she said to herself, “and I’ll test it tomorrow morning.” To him, she said, “I go to church in the mornings, but you know the Baptists; mornings last till two in the afternoon.”
“You playing hard to get? You must do something after church, so what about doing it with me?”
“Let me get to know you first. Then we’ll see.”
He brought the bus to a stop at a red light, turned and looked at her. “I’ve got the patience of Job, baby, and when I decide I want something, I get it.”
Remembering her decision moments earlier to let him work for what he got from her, she quelled the excitement that raced through her. “I’m planning to go to school evenings, so I won’t have a lot of free time.”
The light changed, and he drove on. “That’s got nothing to do with how you spend your Sunday afternoons. Don’t try to dangle me, Jolene. I don’t dance to anybody’s tune but my own. If you’re not interested, say so right now. It definitely won’t cause a tidal wave.” He reached Bay Avenue in Pike Hill and brought the bus to a halt. “Last stop,” he called out to the four remaining passengers.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, rushing to get off the bus.
“And be on time, because I’m not allowed to wait one minute. By then you should be ready to answer my question, though I’ve found that when a woman doesn’t come right out and say no, she’s eventually going to say yes. See you in the morning.”
The next morning Jolene stepped on the bus three minutes before the scheduled departure time. “Hi. I see I’m the first one on this morning.” She opened her pocketbook to look for the fare.
“Yeah. Couldn’t wait to see me.” His grin made it impossible for her to know whether he intended it as a joke.
“I . . . uh . . . I think I left my billfold home.” She looked at her watch and allowed an expression of panic to settle on her face. “I haven’t got a penny.”
“All right. Sit right over there.” He pointed to the seat she occupied the previous evening. “And you had definitely better be on time this evening, unless you want to walk from Salisbury to Pike Hill.”
She sat down. That had been much easier than she had imagined. She had the money for her fare, but she needed to know whether he cared about her. “I don’t know how to thank you. My boss is not an understanding person.”
The engine roared into action, and he drove off. “Forget it,” he said. “You’d do the same for me.” She kept a solemn face. This one would be easy. He was already planning to let her ride home free.
“We’re getting a new boarder,” Fannie sang out to Richard and Judd as they left the breakfast table. “Thank the Lord, and she’s an upstanding, churchgoing, law abiding citizen.”
“I hope she’s not sanctimonious,” Richard said under his breath. “One of them in this place is more than enough.”
“Could be worse,” Judd said. “Better that than one of these young floozies.”
Richard stared at Judd. “A what?”
“I guess that’s what you young people call a femme fatale, a woman who’s always drawing attention to her breasts and behind. Heck, if they’re worth looking at, a woman doesn’t have to wave a flag; I’ll see ’em.” They sat facing each other in their favorite chairs in the lounge and, as if summoned by mental telepathy, Rodger appeared with coffee for two.
Richard stretched out his long legs, relaxed and aware of it. “I was hoping the time would come when the sight of high breasts and a well sloped behind wouldn’t start my libido roaring.”
The gurgles in Judd’s throat spilled out of him in the form of laughter. “You’ve got a lot to learn, son. It never stops. Your half-hearted libido tells you to go after something, and then Johnn
y-one-note down there tells you don’t even think it. Be thankful that, incompetent though Johnny may be, he’s still got sense enough to know that and won’t start what he can’t finish.”
“I’m not there yet,” Richard said. He saw Fannie post a note on the bulletin board and went over to read it. “Jellyfish in the bay this morning, so it isn’t a good idea to swim unless you don’t mind those stings.”
“When is the new boarder coming?” he asked Fannie.
“She should be here any minute.” In that case, he would remain in the lounge with Judd and see what she was like.
About twenty minutes later, Rodger walked into the foyer, rested three suitcases by the door and literally strutted into the lounge followed by a woman who Richard assumed to be the new boarder. He stood as the woman approached. She had an infectious smile, and he watched her intently, captivated.
“You must be the new boarder,” he heard Judd say. “M’ name’s Judd Walker and this here is Richard Peterson. We both live here.”
“Happy to meet you,” Richard said, arousing himself from his momentary stupor. He told himself that it wasn’t her looks, but her persona, her commanding presence that reminded him of Estelle.
“I’m glad to meet both of you. I’m Francine Spaldwood, and I just had quite a scare when an eighteen-wheeler nearly ran me off the highway.”
“Let me get you a cold drink,” Judd said. “I don’t drive any longer, but I remember how nervous driving can make you.” He went to the soft drink dispenser and got a bottle of ginger ale. Judd thought colas ruined your teeth and didn’t believe in drinking them.
“Have a seat, Ms. Spaldwood,” Richard heard himself say. He had expected someone like the women who lived in the house, not a fashionable career type who was both good looking and self-confident.
“Thank you.”
She sat down, crossed her knees and leaned back, sipping the cold drink and as comfortable as if she’d lived there for years. This woman knows her way around, he said to himself. I’ll bet she gives all of us a surprise.
When You Dance With The Devil Page 9
