When You Dance With The Devil

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When You Dance With The Devil Page 17

by Gwynne Forster


  Judd pulled air through his front teeth and rolled his eyes. “You hope.” He looked toward the door. “Come on over here and eat with us, Jolene. My, but you look nice and fresh this morning.”

  “Thanks. It’s not because I slept well.” She looked at Richard. “Mind if I eat here?” To his amazement, she reached for his hand, took it and held it. “I’d give anything if I could take back that stupid remark, Richard. Do you think you’ll be able to forgive me?”

  His first reaction was to suggest that she let him eat in peace, but when he looked at her, he saw pain reflected in her eyes. He remembered her having once alluded to experiencing more than her share of unhappiness and misery, and he accepted that she didn’t want to cause him to suffer as she had. The thought softened his attitude toward her.

  “I know you didn’t want to make me uncomfortable,” he said. “You weren’t thinking.”

  “No, I definitely wasn’t, and maybe that’s the problem. All my life, I’ve thought only of myself, how to get out of my misery and then, how to get even or how to get what I want. I’m just learning to feel for other people and to care about them.”

  He nearly choked on the pancake, for he, too, was a recent repentant, and he only hoped she didn’t have as much to atone for as he did. Or, at least, that the pill she had to swallow would be less bitter. “We all have to start somewhere, Jolene,” he said. “You’ve made a lot of progress since I’ve known you, and you’re to be commended.”

  “Yes, siree,” Judd said. “You’re doing just fine. By the way, how’d you happen to know Reverend Coles?”

  “He was the pastor of my mother’s church in Hagerstown, Maryland. I didn’t see much of him, though, because I never went anywhere during mama’s illness, which lasted almost seven years, and he came to see her only every three months to bring communion. In fact, in those days, I seldom saw anybody. Reverend Coles suggested that I close up the old house, sell it, move here, and start over.

  “You know, I’ve decided to enroll in that Lifelong Learning Program at Catawba College in Salisbury, and maybe I can volunteer at the library one evening a week.”

  Richard stared at her. When he asked her months earlier to help during the computer classes, she refused. “That would certainly make our work easier. How about Tuesday?”

  “Fine. I’d better hurry, or I’ll miss my bus.”

  “You’re doing the right thing, Jolene,” Judd said. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Yes,” Richard said. “Congratulations. You will always be proud that you did it.”

  “Thanks. See you this evening.”

  “I thought I understood women,” Richard said to Judd after Jolene left, “but she is a colossal enigma.”

  “If you understand women, my friend, you deserve a medal. Jolene likes Gregory Hicks. Enigma solved.”

  Jolene tightened the scarf around her neck as she hurried down Ocean Road to Bay Avenue where she boarded the bus each morning. With the trees totally bare, the wind whipped in from the ocean unrestrained, drawing tears from her eyes. The bus drove up simultaneously with her arrival there and, grateful for the warmth it offered, she jumped in and greeted the driver.

  “Did you ever go to see Masterson?” the driver asked her. She told him that she had visited Harper twice. “Yeah? Well, since you two are friends and nothing else, according to you, suppose you and me take in a movie one night?”

  She hesitated. Here was a good looking, strong man, and she didn’t really have anyone who cared about her. Maybe if . . . She stared down at him, while he gazed up at her expectantly, as if he knew she wouldn’t resist him, that she was available and waiting for him to make a move. His gaze went to her breasts, their outline visible beneath her coat, and her nipples tightened and she could feel a warm flush in her vagina. Why not?

  “Whatever I do, I do it thoroughly,” he said. “No woman has ever complained that I don’t know how to give her the ride of her life. What do you say?”

  No pretense about friendship or even that he liked her. Hadn’t she been down that road before and walked off it empty and ashamed? And hadn’t she promised herself never to do it again? She could feel her bottom lip begin to curl. “No thanks. I’m seeing someone.”

  “I can definitely believe that, babe, cause you really smoking.”

  She didn’t answer but took a seat in the back, proud that she had sense enough not to be a convenience for a man just because he showed an interest in her, proud that hearing a man say she looked nice did not inflate her ego.

  As soon as she walked into the beauty parlor, Vida rushed to her with a frantic expression on her face and grabbed her arm. “Jolene! Jolene, I’m so glad you got here before any customers came in so we can talk. Could you ask to get off an hour early and stay at my place till I get home? The nanny has to leave today at three-thirty.”

  Jolene stared at the woman, hardly able to believe she had heard her correctly. “Why can’t you take an hour off?”

  “Please, Jolene. I want to go to the Bahamas in January, and I’ll need all of my vacation time.”

  Heading for the dressing room to change into her uniform, Jolene threw over her shoulder, “Like I won’t need my vacation time? Take a shorter vacation, and when people befriend you, remember not to abuse them.”

  “What was that about?” her boss asked. “I told you once you’re better off leaving Vida alone. If you stick your hand into a patch of poison ivy and it swells up and starts itching, you gonna keep doing it?”

  She smiled a smile that came from her heart. “No, indeed, sir. I’ve learned a lot since I came here. Vida can’t ring my bell anymore, because I won’t let her.”

  “Way to go. You doing good, and if you continue to do this well, I can maybe take some time off and leave you to manage the shop. Business has picked up a lot since you’ve been answering the phone and making the appointments. What I needed was a good receptionist. You got a head on your shoulders.”

  “Are you serious? You’d leave me in charge of this place while you go off somewhere?”

  “Yeah. You’ll get another fifty bucks in your envelope Saturday.”

  “What? I . . . thank you. Thank you, sir.”

  She walked to the cash register thinking how different her life was now from what it was the day she began working in the beauty parlor. Her mama said she wasn’t worth a cent. Well, mama, that’s one more thing you misled me about. Who knows what I might have become if you hadn’t bathed me in your misery? She dusted the counter, the computer/cash register, and the vase that held the artificial calla lilies.

  I think I would be happy now if only Gregory would call as he promised. But if he doesn’t, I’ll have to live with it. It won’t kill me. At least I have a clear conscience. Well, almost. I ought to try and put things right with Percy Lucas. He acts as if what happened between him and me took all the air out of him.

  When she left work that afternoon, she stopped at a florist shop and ordered some roses for delivery to Harper Masterson. Doing that gave her a good feeling, elevating her mood, and she headed for the bus stop with light, spirited steps. As she hopped on the bus, her cell phone rang.

  “Hello, Jolene. This is Gregory.”

  Chapter Eight

  Richard hunched his shoulders against the wind that howled from the Atlantic and, with Judd walking upright beside him as if unmindful of the cold, headed down M. L. King Jr. Avenue toward Rhone Street. “Too bad we can’t drop these computer classes until spring,” he said to Judd. “I know it sounds chicken, but I do not like this weather.”

  “It only lasts two or three months, and think how good it is living here the rest of the year.”

  “I’m glad the library is close to the boardinghouse.”

  “Everything in this town’s close to the boardinghouse. Trouble with you isn’t the cold weather. You’re in the dumps, and you gotta get yourself out of it. What’s the problem?”

  “I’m not in the dumps, Judd. I’m discovering that life can throw a
hammerlock on you with no warning, and I have to deal with it. I also have to figure out what to do about the boarders’ attitude toward me. When I came here, I didn’t give a damn what any of them thought of me, but I see how they are with each other, almost like brothers and sisters and . . . well—”

  “Everybody wants to be liked, son. Trouble is you thought they should look up to you. They probably did, but you’re getting to know them, and you want them to care.”

  “Judd, do you know that Francine and Jolene are the only people, other than you and Fannie, who said anything to me about the party I gave for you? All the rest acted as if a party like that was their bloody due. Did any of them congratulate you on your birthday?”

  “Joe Tucker did. I guess they figured singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me covered it. Worrying about that hasn’t crossed m’mind, and shouldn’t bother you, either. They’re humble people. You did that for me. Do something for them, and maybe they’ll see you in a different light. Did you invite any of them to come to the adult computer classes?”

  “No, but I will. Good idea.”

  It had been twenty years since his status was a matter of concern to him. Once he had set his sights for a career in international politics, he shot arrow-straight to the top. And now, he had no status that meant anything to his fellow boarders. After supper that night, he created a notice on his computer, printed it out, gave it to Fannie and asked her to put it on the bulletin board.

  “Sure,” she said. “This is wonderful.” She read the notice: FREE INSTRUCTION IN TENNIS, SURFING, DARTS, CROQUET, BRIDGE. “Richard, honey, you’d better do this in groups of three or four. Otherwise you won’t have a scrap of time for yourself. Of course, I doubt any of them have a clue as to what croquet is.”

  “Anybody sixty or sixty-five years old ought to appreciate a game that doesn’t involve using a lot of energy.”

  “Right. I’ll read this out at supper tomorrow evening. Uh . . . Richard. I appreciate what you’re doing. You’re improving the quality of life for my boarders, but you may find that some of them won’t appreciate it. They will appreciate you, but they may not like some of these activities.”

  “As long as some of them enjoy it,” he told her, as a tightness settled in his belly. If no one accepted his offer, it wouldn’t kill him.

  “I want to learn how to play bridge,” Jolene said when Fannie finished reading the notice. “I can’t swim, so it wouldn’t make sense for me to take up surfing.” Titters of laughter followed her admission that she couldn’t swim.

  “What can you teach me that doesn’t involve sitting down?” Joe Tucker asked him. “That’s all I do when I’m not on the construction site.”

  He’d known somehow that Joe Tucker would accept his offer. “Tennis and darts. I have a feeling you’d love darts,” he told the man. “And all of you are welcome to take the adult computer classes we’re running at the library from four-thirty to six-thirty Mondays and Wednesdays.

  “You can teach me how to throw those darts, too,” Judd said. “I played tennis when I was twenty, and it got to my legs even then.”

  “I’ll play tennis with you sometime,” Francine said, but he knew without being told that she didn’t mean it, that she offered because she thought the other boarders expected it of her.

  In the end, it was clear to him that his offer would change nothing. Later as he sipped espresso coffee and played blackjack with Judd, he had an urge to be alone, to relapse into the self-centered behavior that he’d told himself was in the past.

  “I think I’ll turn in, Judd.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me? What ails you’s got nothing to do with the attitude of these people toward you, and you know it. You want her, but you can’t have her on your terms. And you should be thankful for that. Maybe she can bring new meaning to your life. If she proved to be just another notch in your belt, pretty soon you wouldn’t want to be around her, certainly not on the same floor in a house this size. You turned over a new leaf, and you’re not a player any longer. Remember?”

  “Judd, I’ve accepted more lecturing from you than I have or would from my father. What man wouldn’t want Francine? She’s beautiful.”

  “It ain’t her looks that’s got you tied up. It’s her.”

  “Point taken. Now, cut me some slack, will you?”

  “All right. But get used to a little deprivation; it’s good for you.”

  Richard leaned back in his chair and let the laughter roll out of him, and he felt better, cleansed, as it were, because of it. A little deprivation? Hell, he hadn’t had a woman since he left Geneva, Switzerland, eight months earlier. He had missed the sex, but he was proud that he had freed himself of the compulsion to charm and bed every woman who let him know she was available, proud that he had rid himself of the false persona, the automatic chicanery.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He brushed his chin with the fingers of his left hand and looked at the cards in his right hand. “Funny? Not one single thing. Play your hand.”

  “You’re getting so good at blackjack that I think I ought to introduce you to pinochle. Of course, we’d need at least a third person.”

  “Teach Francine. That is, if she doesn’t already know.”

  “Not a bad idea. I may have to show you two how to have a real friendship, one that will withstand the effect of your libidos.”

  Richard knew that Judd meant well, but he didn’t want to think about Francine. It was about all he’d done for the past twenty-four hours. “You just may have to do that. But for now, change the subject, will you?”

  When Judd’s eyelids seemed heavy and he began to play with less enthusiasm, Richard told him good night and started up the stairs. “Uh, you got a minute, Richard?”

  He turned to face Joe Tucker. “It’s a good thing you’re doing for us, but this gang would rather play pinochle, whist, or blackjack or shoot pool than do the things you offered to teach them. These people think croquet is something you fry.”

  He looked at the man who spent three to four days a week as a construction worker and yet volunteered to help Fannie whenever she needed a handyman. “You’re probably right, but I have to teach what I know.”

  “I’m not working this Friday, so if you’re around, I’ll be glad to get a lesson in dart throwing.”

  “Okay. I’ll bring a dart board and some darts home tomorrow. I love the game, and I’ll enjoy having someone to play with. You think we can get Percy interested?”

  Joe flexed his shoulder in a shrug. “I dunno. Percy’s been acting strange ever since summer, as if he doesn’t have any confidence in himself.”

  So he wasn’t the only one who noticed the change in Percy, although he was probably the only one of the boarders other than Percy who had a clue as to why. “If we can get him to play darts with us, that ought to change.”

  “Maybe. I wouldn’t bet on it. Still, I’ll ask him if you want me to. Let’s start this Friday.”

  He agreed and continued up the stairs to his room. He felt better, and he didn’t understand why. The object of his discontent hadn’t said anything to him all day, except to offer to play tennis with him in the presence of the other boarders. Yet, he had a sense of peace, the same feeling that had pervaded him when the computers he’d managed to obtain arrived at the local library. He heard the sound of footsteps made by high-heeled shoes, and his breath lodged in his throat, but when they continued past his door, he let out a long harsh breath and stopped himself seconds before his fist slammed into the wall.

  Jolene made her way up the stairs to her room, glad that at last she could stop smiling. All evening, she had faked joviality and warmth, when she had wanted to crawl into bed, tuck herself in a fetal position and bawl. Gregory had called because he said he would, but he hadn’t said anything that would allow her to believe they would be friends again. Didn’t men want truthfulness and honesty from women? It was just her bad luck that she’d been forced to talk with him while riding the bus and h
er conversation wasn’t private. He didn’t say he would call again, nor did he suggest that she call him.

  It’s my fault. Still, I had to tell him the truth, because I don’t want to live a lie. I want him to like me as I am; if he can’t, I’m glad I know it now. I care for him, but I’ll get over it. I have to. And I’m going to help Richard with the children in that class. I promised, and I’m not going to let Gregory’s attitude get in the way. She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and, in a prayerful tone, asked aloud, “Isn’t there one person anywhere who can love me? Really love me?”

  At breakfast the following morning, she joined Judd and Richard without waiting for an invitation. “I’ll be at the library at five-fifteen, Richard,” she told him. “Believe me, as soon as those kids get used to me, you will not have any disciplinary problems.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. They get rather rowdy sometimes. Once or twice, I’ve wanted to smack them.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Really? I don’t think that’s permitted.”

  “It isn’t, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to do it. If you think you can make them orderly without committing a crime, more power to you.”

  The following afternoon, Jolene walked into the children’s computer class and looked around. She didn’t see how anyone could learn in that atmosphere. She saw a ruler on a table, picked it up, walked to the front of the room and slapped the ruler vigorously against the desk.

  “Be quiet, all of you,” she said. “Sit down, and give me your attention. The first one to speak without permission will go home at once and will not be allowed to come back.” The silence was immediate and complete. “I’m Miss Tilman, and I do not tolerate misbehavior. I am here to maintain order during this class. If you cannot be quiet and pay attention during the class, your parents will have to pay for private lessons, because you are not going to disrupt this class. Misbehave once, and you are out.”

  She glanced toward the door and saw Richard and Gregory standing there with their mouths slightly ajar. “Your teachers are here,” she said, “so show them how well you can behave. I’ll be in the back of the room, and I’ll be looking at every one of you.”

 

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