When You Dance With The Devil

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When You Dance With The Devil Page 15

by Gwynne Forster


  “Yep,” she said. “He’s blessed, all right.”

  Jolene put on a yellow crêpe sheath that ended in a flounce at the knee and the first three-inch heeled patent leather shoes she had ever worn, combed down her hair, and ran downstairs to the dining room. She found Judd in conversation with Joe Tucker and joined them.

  “You sure do look pretty in this dress, Jolene,” Joe told her. “If I was twenty years younger, I’d stake a claim. Judd looks pretty snappy in his suit, too.” The more she saw of Joe, the more she liked him as a sturdy, decent and self-respecting man, and she was grateful that in her foolish days, she had not tried any antics with him.

  “I’m the guest of honor,” Judd said to them with a wink, “so I didn’t have the nerve to come in here looking like a box-car bum. I never been so touched in m’ life.”

  Across the room, Richard stood in a corner near the pantry talking with two men who had their backs to Jolene. Rodger circulated among the boarders with a tray containing glasses of wine, soft drinks, beer, and hot hors d’oeuvres. The beer, which Fannie did not ordinarily permit in the house, was her concession to the occasion.

  “This is the first party I ever attended,” Jolene said, mostly to herself. “Lord, I sure have missed a lot.”

  “Supper’s ready,” Fannie said. “Everybody have a seat. My brother, Reverend Coles, is with us, and he’ll say the grace.”

  The minister turned around and, his gaze fell on her, so she rushed over to him, forgetting her behavior during his previous visit. But as she extended her hand to greet Philip Coles, a familiar voice reached her ears.

  “Hello, Jolene.”

  She looked into the face of Gregory Hicks, and nearly lost her balance. “Hello, Gregory. How are you?”

  “I’m surprised that you remember me.”

  She couldn’t believe he’d said that. “Of course I remember you.”

  Both of his eyebrows shot up, and she said, “I’ve wanted to talk with you, but I haven’t been able to get up the courage. A lot of things have happened to me since I last saw you, and I understand myself and people much better than I did.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, obviously unmoved.

  “Because I’m sorry for the way I behaved. I had a lot to learn, and I still do. I’d give anything if I could change your opinion of me, but I know I can’t . . . See you.” Without waiting for his reaction, she left him and walked across the lounge to the dining room to her usual place. Then she realized she hadn’t said one word to Philip Coles.

  She was about to take her usual seat when her gaze captured the table that Fannie had added to accommodate Philip and Gregory and found them both looking at her. She waved at Philip and relaxed when he acknowledged it with a smile.

  After Philip said grace, Richard stood and raised his glass of wine. “Tonight, we’re celebrating Judd Walker’s eighty-fifth birthday. Judd has done what my father tried but didn’t succeed in doing.” He paused, grinned, and said, “You don’t have to know what that is,” and was rewarded with a ripple of laughter.

  “I see Rodger standing at the kitchen door anxious to begin serving the meal, so I won’t test your patience or his. When I decided to give Judd a party, I didn’t have a clue as to what was involved. Jolene came to my rescue. The decorations are her idea and choice, and she and Fannie helped me set them up. I gave Marilyn a menu and she sent me on a shopping trip. All in all, I’ve never enjoyed anything as much as I’ve enjoyed this. Judd, my friend, you deserve the best.”

  Judd stood. “I want to thank m’ family for making this one of the happiest days of m’life. It’s the first birthday party I ever had, and I’m loving it. I thank m’friend Richard for brightening m’ life. Let’s eat.”

  When Rodger set bowls of oyster chowder before them, Joe Tucker rubbed his hands together as if he were washing them. “Jolene, my friend, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. We all know Richard is ‘class,’ but you surprised me. The decorations are great. We could be in a five-star hotel. You have changed a lot, right in front of our eyes.”

  “I’m learning, Joe. This is the first party I’ve ever been to.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to spoil the party for you. Sometime, if you’re interested, I’ll tell you what it’s like to be your mother’s slave.”

  His sharp whistle split the air, and everyone in the dining room looked their way. His silence told her that she had either shocked or scandalized him. After a few minutes, he said, “That fellow over there with Richard is looking at you. You know him?”

  “He’s Gregory Hicks, and he goes to Fannie’s church. I went out with him a few times, but I messed up. Joe, I didn’t know anything about men or anything else when I came here. He’s a very nice man.” She marveled at her ability to discuss personal things with a man she knew only as her seatmate at supper. I have come a long way, she said to herself.

  “He likes you,” Joe said.

  “Maybe, but he won’t do anything about it. Like I said, I ruined things with him.”

  The seven course meal ended with crème Courvoisier and espresso coffee, which Marilyn herself served, to a round of applause.

  Joe turned in his chair and faced Jolene fully. “You say you don’t know much about men. Well, I guess you don’t. I don’t know what you did to him, but that man over there is interested in more than the dress you got on.”

  Jolene smiled and patted Joe’s arm. “Thanks. You’ve done wonders for my ego tonight, Joe.” When she saw Fannie introduce Francine to Gregory, she knew that Gregory still hadn’t settled on a girl. He’ll have to come to me; I’ve made a dunce of myself over a man for the last time.

  She headed toward Judd to congratulate him but, seeing the crowd around him, gave up the idea. Feeling a tap on her arm, she turned to face Philip Coles. “I’ve been trying to get a moment to speak with you. You’re finally blooming,” he said, “and it looks as if you have a talent for decorating. My, my. You look wonderful, too. I can’t tell you how proud of you I am.”

  In that moment of pride, she could feel her shoulders go back, for only Philip Coles knew what she’d overcome, indeed what she was still climbing over. “You think I’ll make it?”

  He nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. Indeed, I don’t see how you can fail. The difference since I was last here is phenomenal.”

  “Well, sir, there’s been a lot of pain to go with it. Mama didn’t give me one positive thing to help me; I’m finding that practically everything she crammed into my head about people was untrue. And especially about men. Why did she hate men so much? Do you know she refused even to tell me who my father is? And that was the least she owed me.”

  Immediately, she wished she hadn’t spoken so candidly, for the blood heated his face and neck, and he stammered his sympathy. “What’s d-d-done is done, Jolene. I’m glad you’ve found a home here.”

  He seemed anxious to leave her, so she did her best to put him at ease. “I’m glad you’re here for the party, Reverend Coles. Having an outside guest makes it special.” Her gaze caught Judd, Gregory, and Richard looking at her and Philip Coles, and she hoped they didn’t think she was involved with the minister in any way.

  To make sure that they didn’t, she excused herself, walked over to Judd and hugged him. “Happy birthday, Judd. Now you know who’s special around here.”

  “I always knowed it. I’m twenty years older than Louvenia over there, and the next most important person is the cook.”

  “For heaven’s sake, don’t let Marilyn know you’re more special here than she is; she might downgrade the meals,” Richard said.

  “Humph,” Judd snorted. “No way. She’s too vain.”

  “Would you like to dance?” Gregory asked Jolene. “That music is too good to waste.”

  “I never learned how,” she said, unwilling to make an excuse or to give him the impression that she didn’t want to dance with him. “I’m just learning how to walk in high heels.” She had intended
to draw a laugh, but the solemn faces before her were proof that they knew she told the truth and empathized with her.

  Evidently not to be outdone, Gregory said, “Even if you knew how, I doubt you’d be able to dance in those shoes. I don’t see how women walk in them. Let’s find a glass of wine.”

  “Something strange going on here,” Judd said to Richard when they were alone, “and I’m not about to say what I’m thinking.”

  “Yeah. I was thinking something like that a minute ago, and I’ve thought it before.” He also feared what he’d start if he articulated his thoughts. “The women are all looking great for you tonight, Judd,” he said, changing the subject. “Strut your stuff, man.”

  “I got a lot to thank you for, Richard.” He fingered the few stubs of beard that had begun to emerge on his chin. “Say, I haven’t seen Francine anywhere around here for the last half hour.”

  “Maybe she went to her room.”

  “It ain’t like her to hide. The gal loves being around people,” Judd said. “Excuse me.” He went to the house telephone, which was, in effect, an intercom, and dialed the number for Francine’s room. No answer. “Where could she be at nine o’clock Saturday night?” he asked Richard minutes later.

  “Maybe she has a date,” Richard said, although he didn’t believe it. It crossed his thoughts that Francine may have received a tip as to the whereabouts of Ronald Barnes, and he worked hard at slowing down his suddenly accelerated breathing.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much, Richard. Francine strikes me as a woman more than able to look after herself.”

  So he hadn’t managed to hide his anxiety from the shrewd old man. “She’ll miss the finale,” Richard said, pretending not to have caught the implications of Judd’s words. He looked around at his fellow boarders, who talked among themselves, and realized that Jolene and Francine were the only ones other than Judd who had spoken to him to thank him for the party.

  A few minutes later, Fannie dimmed the lights, Marilyn and Rodger entered the room with a big chocolate cake lit with eighty-five candles, and Rodger lent his baritone voice to the words and tune of “Happy Birthday to You.” As Judd cut the cake, Richard was certain that he saw Francine’s red dress flash up the stairs, and he knew he’d been right when she returned to the party without the gray fishnet stockings she’d worn earlier and which he had admired on her long shapely legs.

  “Just in time for cake,” he said when she walked up to him wearing an expression of innocence. But he wasn’t fooled, for the heaving of her chest meant either excitement or that she had been running. He suspected both.

  “Thanks. I love chocolate.”

  He maneuvered her into a corner. “Any luck?”

  She shook her head. “He’s slick as a fish right out of water, but I’ll get him.”

  “What happened to those great stockings you were wearing earlier? I liked them.”

  Her left eyebrow shot up. “You don’t think I’d risk snagging my fifteen-dollar stockings, do you? It only took me a second to get them off.”

  He laughed, as much from relief and from the humor of a police officer removing her stockings before going after a criminal. “You’re a perfect example of a feminine woman doing a man’s job and up to the task.”

  “You definitely know how to make a woman feel good.”

  “I can do a hell of a lot better than that.” Seeing that they were alone, he leaned down and kissed the side of her mouth. “But I warn you that if you give me a chance to show you, you won’t soon forget it. I’m a thorough man, and nothing pleases me more than to satisfy a woman.” Her lower lip dropped, her eyes blinked rapidly, and she backed away. He hadn’t meant to discombobulate her; he’d looked down at the alluring, feminine bundle so close to him and said exactly what was on his mind. He was in no mood to apologize.

  She stared up at him, her face flushed. “How did you get from stockings to sex? I remember your telling me that you aren’t ready for a relationship, so why are you—”

  He interrupted her. “You might say my self-control slipped a fraction. Let’s go over there and get some ice cream and cake.”

  They walked to the dining room table where Marilyn held court, savoring the plaudits of the boarders who surrounded her, giving her the admiration she craved.

  “You outdid yourself tonight, Marilyn,” Richard said. “My hat’s off to you.”

  Her half smile and lowered head surprised him. He wouldn’t have thought her capable of diffidence. “I mean it,” he added. “The Waldorf Astoria couldn’t have produced better fare than you created. You’re a master chef.”

  “You don’t know what that means to me coming from you, Richard. I did my level best, and I’m so glad you’re pleased.”

  He resisted patting her on the shoulder, accepted the homemade ice cream, the best he’d ever had, and a slice of chocolate cake, and looked at Francine. “You can eat all that without worrying about gaining weight?”

  “No, but opportunity doesn’t knock often, and this stuff is to die for. I’ll run an extra time around the block. You don’t seem worried about inflating your flat middle.”

  “If anybody had told me a year ago that I’d have this conversation with a woman, I wouldn’t have believed it. I never got on a really personal level with women.” He paused as the knowledge struck him. “Not even with—”

  “And yet, you loved her. I don’t understand that, and I think you’re in for a stunning surprise, Richard.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you finally fall in love, you will know that you have never truly loved before. Loves comes with intimacy. True intimacy.”

  “If it’s more devastating than what I’ve already experienced, I want no part of it.”

  Her wink took him back a bit. “Then resist kissing the side of my mouth. I might take a shine to you and, trust me, friend, I go after what I want.”

  He straightened up from his slouch against the wall and stared down at her. “You and I have the same attitude toward challenges, so let’s pretend this conversation never took place. I don’t gamble and I don’t accept dares. Before I issue a challenge, I know how I am going to deal with the response. I value your friendship, Francine. Let’s stop this one-upmanship.”

  “You’re right, Richard. It’s a substitute for a deeper intimacy, and whether we know it or not, we’re fanning the fire.”

  He couldn’t help grinning. “Oh, I know that, but the idea of treating you like a baby sister boggles my mind.” When he looked around, he saw Gregory and Jolene seemingly in deep conversation in the hallway beside the stairs. “How do those two strike you?” He nodded in the other couple’s direction.

  “I think they’re picking up where they left off last winter. He must be the one she told me about. Claimed she ruined what could have been a good relationship.”

  Francine couldn’t have been closer to the truth. “Could we spend some time together tomorrow afternoon?” Gregory was asking Jolene about that time. “I’ve never been satisfied with the way we split up. You should have been more considerate, and I should have refused to do anything I didn’t want to do. Why did you stand me up?”

  “You were the first man I ever went anywhere with, and I didn’t have the slightest notion how to treat a man. I was loaded down with my mother’s prejudices.”

  “I understand that. Can we be together tomorrow afternoon after church?”

  She had promised herself that she would visit Harper, and she didn’t intend to change her plan; he was in the hospital because of her self-centeredness. “Maybe. I have to visit a friend at the hospital first.”

  “A man or a woman?”

  “A man, but I won’t stay more than ten or fifteen minutes, if that long. He may not want to see me.” When Gregory raised an eyebrow, she added, “You’re not the only person I’ve mistreated.”

  “May I drive you to the hospital and wait while you visit your friend?”

  “Uh . . . all right. I’d like that.”
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  Jolene walked into Harper’s hospital room at three-fifteen Sunday afternoon carrying a basket of grapes, strawberries, apples, dates, and tangerines, fruits she knew the hospital wouldn’t serve. He sat beside the window in a wheelchair, looking out at the gardens now bare of flowers and foliage.

  “Hello, Harper.” He swung the wheelchair around with such energy that she knew he recognized her voice.

  “To what do I owe this . . . this visit?”

  She put the basket of fruit on the table beside his bed and walked over to him. “Regardless of what you think of me, I’m not all bad, Harper.” When he winced, she added quickly, “Please give me ten minutes. That’s all I’m asking. And listen carefully to every word I say. It won’t undo a thing, but you will understand.” He motioned toward the only chair in the room. She closed his door and sat down. Ten minutes later, he knew the story of her life up to that minute with nothing significant omitted. He gazed out of the window, motionless as if hypnotized.

  “Why couldn’t you have told me what your life was like instead of pretending to be sophisticated? Woman, I fell in love with you, and you hurt me. You will never know how I hurt. I made love with you to get even, but you were so loving and so giving. Not even a prostitute gives the way you did. After that, I never wanted to see you again. I was afraid I might make a complete fool of myself over you. I don’t remember taking Beaver Road on the drive home. I’m told they had to cut through the wreckage of my car in order to get me out of it.”

  “I won’t say that I’m sorry, because you know I am. What does the doctor say?”

  “That I’ll be as good as ever, but the therapy is pure hell. Still, I’m blessed to be alive.” He was silent for a moment, and she stood to leave. “Thank you for coming and for bringing the fruit. You think you and Gregory will get back together?”

  “I really don’t know whether he can accept the truth when I finally tell him all that I just told you, including about you.”

  “You don’t have to tell him all that, just the essence of it. Trust me, he won’t want to know.” She offered to shake hands, but he reached up for a hug. She made it brief, for she no longer teased or played with men.

 

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