Holly stared after her. “I always get in trouble when I lie for you, Cherry. I’m not doing it again.” Coughing on dust, she turned and looked up at the Brimstone Grand. The first thing she saw was Becky standing on the balcony outside her room, waving at her. Holly waved back.
The second thing she saw was Miss Delilah watching her from a fifth floor window almost directly above Becky. She didn’t wave, and she wasn’t smiling.
“Crap.”
“Holly?” Meredith said as the girl walked in, moving slow, looking glum. “What’s wrong? Did you find your mother?”
She nodded.
“And?”
The girl just stood there looking at her hands. Finally, she mumbled something.
“What, honey? I’m sorry, I didn’t understand.”
Holly still didn’t meet Meredith’s eyes. “I said I’m supposed to tell Miss Delilah that Cherry’s gone.” She looked up now, her face pale and pinched. “That she’s got a job interview in Sedona.”
“Does she?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. She said to say it’s a modeling job.”
The switchboard buzzed. “Just a minute.” Meredith answered it then turned back to Holly, feeling bad for the little girl. “That was Miss Delilah. She wants to see you right away.”
Holly nodded. “Okay.”
“What are you going to tell her, sweetheart?”
Emotions crossed the girl’s face; apprehension, anger, doubt. Lots of doubt. But then she straightened up and looked Meredith square in the eye. “The truth.”
“That’s always best.” Meredith came out from behind the lobby counter and hugged her. “Miss Delilah can be tough, but she’s okay. She really is. Don’t be afraid of her.”
Holly finally broke the hug. “I’m not afraid,” she declared, defiance and unshed tears in her eyes. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“I know you’re not. You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks.” Holly mumbled the word and trudged toward the stairs, head down, shoulders slumped.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Meredith rang Holly’s room and told Becky to come downstairs, that she needed her to babysit Todd, and that she and Holly could play tomorrow. Then she wiped away a tear of her own. Poor little thing. Having your own mother ask you to lie had to be something from the seventh circle of Hell.’
Cherry downshifted the Falcon as she passed the Humble Station and took the last steep incline to Main Street. Darkside Johnnie’s was closed. So much for a little hair of the dog. She sighed. Of course, a lot of regular businesses weren’t open - it wasn’t even nine yet. Her head ached and she was out of aspirin. “Damned one-horse towns.”
Finally, she spotted a hole-in-the-wall grocery store among the tall buildings looming along the narrow street. “Brimstone Market,” she read as she pulled to the curb. “Such imagination, but if you have aspirin and beer, I’ll forgive you for being boring.”
She adjusted the little red triangle scarf over her platinum hair and brushed her hands over her white blouse - the low-cut one with little red hearts all over it - and red pencil skirt. She’d chosen the outfit because it not only showed off her legs and boobs, but it made her look younger than her thirty-five years. She got carded whenever she wore the ensemble.
Inside the narrow market, a balding bespeckled man behind the checkout counter stared at her, taking her in from stem to stern as she picked up a handbasket. “Aspirin?” she asked.
She waited while he put his eyes back in their sockets.
“Aisle three.” The look on his face was one of unadulterated lust.
She saw that a lot in backwards places like this. The guy was probably married to a fishwife and cried into his pillow at night. Typical. Cherry gave him a shiteater and headed for the aspirin. Putting it in her basket, she saw the coolers on the back wall and grabbed a couple bottles of Schlitz before heading up to the cash register. Another customer, a stern older woman built like Maggie in Jiggs & Maggie stared at her from above reading glasses.
“You’re a teacher, aren’t ‘cha.” Cherry spoke in an attempt to be friendly.
The woman looked her up and down, her eyes stopping on Cherry’s cleavage. “Why would you say that?”
“You’ve got those teacher’s glasses on a string around your neck,” Cherry said. “And you’re dressed like a teacher. You remind me of my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Tarmack.” She chuckled. “That woman had a stick up her butt, let me tell you-” She grinned under the woman’s withering gaze. “But she was a great teacher. She had a dress just like the one you’re wearing.”
“Is that so.”
Cherry glanced at the items the clerk was ringing up, trying to find something to say that would turn off the woman’s glare. “Those look like great apples. An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” For some reason - probably because the woman looked like Mrs. Tarmack, who was the meanest, ugliest teacher she’d ever had - Cherry felt like a little kid. She couldn’t stop talking. The old bag made her nervous. “And Preparation H. Man, I can relate. I’ve had some nasty ‘rhoids myself. I told my director that I get hazard pay when a job gives me ‘rhoids.”
The woman’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “What is it you do for a living?” she huffed.
“I’m in pictures,” Cherry said. “Movies.”
The register rang and the woman paid without answering, then strutted out of the store. Cherry moved up and set her basket on the counter, adding a pack of Juicy Fruit and Hostess Twinkies to her haul. “Man,” she said to the bald guy whose name tag read ‘Billy.’ “Something crawled up her ass and died.”
He rang up her purchases, goggling at her through Coke-bottle lenses, and waited while she pulled out a couple of crumpled ones. “You’re new around here?”
“Yeah, why?”
“That was Mrs. Stuffenphepper, the mayor’s wife.”
Cherry cackled as Billy handed her change. His hand lingered. She let it. “Really?”
Billy grinned, showing tombstone dentures. “Old Brunhilde is going to be giving him an earful about you tonight!”
Cherry chortled.
“I thought I recognized you when you came in,” Bald Billy said. “You’re in the movies?”
“Sure am, sweetie.”
“Firehose Gals.” You had dark hair, but that was you, wasn’t it?”
“That was a long time ago. And you remembered!”
“I was over to the X-E Lady Theater not two weeks ago. It was a double feature. Florence of Labia and Who’s Afraid of Virginia’s Muff. You’re Cherry Devine!”
“In the flesh.”
“I dream about those babies every night.” He stared at her breasts.
“That’s so sweet.”
Billy glanced around, making sure no customers were near then reached under the counter and brought out a copy of Popular Mechanics. “Can you give me your autograph?”
“Sure, sweetie.” She was eyeing the array of liquor bottles behind him, thinking of offering to give him more than her John Hancock for a bottle of the good stuff, but decided to wait and see if she got the job up in Sedona first.
He opened the magazine, revealing a 1962 copy of Playboy. She’d recognize it anywhere - she hadn’t made centerfold, but she was in it. She waited while he opened to her pictures. “Could you make it out to Brimstone Billy?”
“Sure.” She took his pen and wrote, “To Brimstone Billy, Love and Kisses, Cherry Devine.” She put the magazine to her lips and kissed her signature.
Just then a busty middle-aged woman walked in and Billy, blushing as red as the hearts on her shirt, hid the magazine. “Thanks, Miss Devine. Morning Mrs. Garrett.” He nodded at the red-headed lady who was so freckled that even the sunbaked shelf of a bosom peeking over the top of her sundress, had freckles.
“Morning, Billy,” she said, and disappeared up aisle four.
“Edna’s a nice lady. She has a sense of humor, you know.”
“That’s nice,”
said Cherry. “I’ll see you around, Billy.”
“Miss Devine?”
“Call me Cherry.”
“Are you any relation to Delilah Devine, up there at the Grand?”
“I’m her granddaughter,” she said.
“I like her movies, too,” he said. “But not like I like yours.”
Cherry blew him a kiss and left. She didn’t want to be late for the casting call. She’d rather be in the movies than cleaning toilets any day of the week.
“Do you think you’re in trouble, young lady?”
Holly stared at her grandmother, who once again sat beneath the flattering pink cherub lamp. Delilah Devine intimidated her more than anyone she’d ever met in her life. It was the way she sat, her posture so perfect, her clothes immaculate, as if they wouldn’t dare wrinkle - and the way her face and eyes stayed so calm and still so you couldn’t guess what she was thinking.
“I feel like I’m in trouble, Miss Delilah.”
“Should you be in trouble, Holly?”
“No.” She spoke softly, then looked up at her grandmother and said, “No! I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Then why do you feel as if you have?”
“I don’t. I just feel like you’re mad at me.”
“I am not angry with you. Why would you think that I am?”
Holly, angry at Cherry, furious with her, made her own back ramrod straight, and used her anger to fuel her courage. “Miss Delilah, you know why. You know exactly why.”
Delilah didn’t say a word. Instead she rang the little silver bell and the maid appeared. “Tea, please, Frieda. For two.”
Frieda bustled off, then her grandmother gestured to a chair. “Holly, sit down.” Delilah seated herself. “I suspect your mother has put you in a very awkward position.”
Holly sat and lowered eyes that burned with tears. “You have, too.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry, Holly. Never say you’re sorry if you aren’t. Just speak up. I couldn’t hear you. You mustn’t mumble.”
Screwing up all her courage, Holly peered at Delilah from beneath her brow. “I said you did, too.”
Delilah studied her another excruciating moment, then nodded. Her posture relaxed the tiniest bit as she leaned forward. “Look at me, Holly.”
She did.
“You’re right. I have put you in an awkward position, and I apologize for doing so.”
Holly was stunned. “Thank you.”
Frieda returned with a tea service like in the movies. She set the ornate silver tray on the coffee table between them. It held a fancy silver teapot, matching bowl of sugar cubes, tiny tongs, a pitcher of cream and two china cups and saucers painted with pink roses and ribbons.
“Do you like tea, Holly?” Delilah asked.
“I do.”
“You may have milk if you prefer.”
“Tea, please.”
“Please pour, Frieda.”
She poured and added two sugars and a dollop of cream to one, which she set before Delilah.
“Cream and sugar, Miss Holly?” Frieda asked.
“Yes, please. The same as Miss Delilah.”
Frieda smiled, poured, then took her leave.
They sipped in silence, Holly growing more and more uncomfortable until she blurted, “Your teacups are really pretty.”
“Thank you. They were hand-painted in Japan, especially for me. A gift from a director, a very long time ago. See the initials in the heart?”
Holly set her cup down carefully, afraid of dropping it. It rattled against the saucer. “That’s very nice.”
“Don’t you care for your tea?”
“It’s good. I-”
“What’s bothering you? Spit it out, girl.”
“I don’t want to break it.”
Delilah laughed. “They’re only cups. You don’t need to worry so much.”
“I’ve just never touched anything so nice before. It’s so thin.”
“That’s why I only have three left. The rest broke over the years.”
“I don’t want to break-”
“I rarely need more than two cups, Holly. We’re safe if you break one. Now drink up.”
She did, trying not to make any sipping sounds.
“Holly, how has your life been so far? What do you like to do?”
“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “I mostly just go to school and to the park and the library.”
Frieda returned with a plate of lacy cookies dusted in confectioner’s sugar and placed it on the table.
“Have a cookie. They’re lemon. Frieda makes them herself. She’s very talented.” Holly took a cookie and dipped it in her tea.
“Thank you.” She let the cookie melt on her tongue, trying not to stare at her grandmother. “This is the best cookie I’ve ever tasted.”
“I daresay I know what you do at the library, but what do you do at the park?”
“I like the monkey bars.” She finished the cookie. “Especially horizontal bars. I love to hang upside down by my knees.”
Delilah raised a delicate brow. “Hang upside down?”
“I’m good at it. And I like to twirl around. You know, on one knee.”
“So, you’re something of a gymnast.” Delilah refilled their tea cups and fixed Holly’s cream and sugar just like her own. “Have all the cookies you’d like.” She took another.
Holly considered Delilah’s words. “I never thought of that. That I could be a gymnast.”
“Well, that would be an odd profession. Have you had tap dancing or ballet lessons?”
Holly shook her head. “Some of my friends took tap, and I asked because it looked like fun, but Cherry couldn’t afford it.” She took another cookie. “We have to be careful with money most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“Sometimes we have money, and Cherry takes me to Hamburger Hamlet to celebrate. Last year she got paid right before school started and she even bought me a new dress.”
“A new dress?”
“From J.C. Penney’s. Brand new.”
“Where does she normally get your school clothes?”
“Thrift stores.”
“You’re wearing used clothing?”
Delilah looked horrified and Holly’s face went hot.
“What you’re wearing now - except for those terrible dirty tennis shoes - looks nice. Are your shorts and shirt used?”
“Yes.” Humiliation filled her, making it hard to talk. “But lots of stuff at Goodwill is practically brand new. This shirt still had a price tag on it so it really was new.”
Delilah nodded. “Does your mother buy her clothes at Goodwill, too?”
“She’s an actress, so she needs new clothes.”
“I see. Before school starts, we’re going into town to buy you new clothes.”
“Before school starts? Will I be here that long?” As embarrassed as she was, she hoped so.
“I think it’s possible. Do you understand why you are here?”
“Because my mom is waiting for a call from her manager.”
“I see. Holly, do you know what kind of movies your mother makes?”
“Not exactly. She doesn’t let me watch them.”
“Well, that’s something, at least.” Delilah leaned closer. “Do you know why you can’t watch them?”
“They’re for grown-ups.”
“So are my movies and you’ve seen them, haven’t you?”
“A couple. I got to spend the night at my friend Stacy’s house and Violet Morne was on the Million Dollar Movie so we watched it. It was really good!”
“Thank you, dear. But your mother hasn’t shown you any of my movies?”
“I don’t think so. Are they on TV very much?”
“Yes, fairly regularly.”
“I want to see them all.” Holly looked her in the eye. “You’re so beautiful, Miss Delilah. I wish I looked just like you.”
/> “That’s very kind of you.”
“But you are. You are the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen.”
“Perhaps when I was younger.”
“Cherry says you’re old-”
Delilah’s smile disappeared and her eyes went cold. “Little girls should learn to mind their tongues.”
“I mean, you don’t look old to me at all. You’re beautiful. I’m sorry.”
Delilah didn’t answer, but rang the bell, summoning Frieda.
“Yes, Miss Delilah?”
“I would like you to show Holly where the watering can is and teach her how to water the plants.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Frieda smiled at Holly. “Come with me. We’ll start with the lobby.”
Holly rose and looked back at Delilah. “I’m sorry.” She was close to tears.
“Holly, do you have any other shoes?” Her voice remained chilly.
Holly shook her head. “No.”
“Very well, there’s no time like the present. This afternoon, Max will drive us into town and we’ll get you some. Those are filthy and obviously too small for you. They’ll cripple your feet.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Yes, I do. You are my relation and you must look the part.” She looked Holly up and down. “Do you have a dress?”
“The one from Penney’s.”
“Wear that, and brush your hair and wash your face. If I’m going to be seen with you in public, then you must look nice. Be back here at two o’clock.”
“Thank you, Miss Delilah.”
Delilah nodded. “And Holly? I want you to remember something.”
She waited.
“I will never ask you to lie for me. I promise you that. And in return, I want you to make me a promise.”
Holly waited.
“Never let anyone - including your mother - make you lie for them.”
“I promise.”
Delilah looked harsh, but Holly adored her for what she said. She wasn’t anything like what Cherry had claimed. She was strict and old-fashioned but she was like an M&M - sweet under that hard coating. Holly knew it.
Brimstone Page 11
