"Yah," Jesse said, grinning and drooling.
"We'll have a little discussion about toilets and how to use 'em."
Jesse nodded, his expression suddenly grave.
"And then we'll talk about how independent you're gonna feel once you learn to dress yourself."
Prudence left them, crossing the upstairs hall to her own room, where she showered and got ready for church. As she pulled her hair back and put on a gray skirt and white sweater, she realized she didn't have a single qualm about leaving Jesse alone with his father.
Three days ago, when Billy had first appeared on her doorstep, she wouldn't have trusted him to take out the garbage. Now, she found she was willing to leave Jesse in his care. Was that progress – or delusion?
* * *
"Oh, my dear. Are you out of your mind?" Nellie Anderson asked.
They were standing on the steps of the church right after the service. Nellie had just inquired where that sweet little Jesse was. Prudence had made the mistake of answering honestly.
Nellie huffed in outrage. "Did anyone tell you what that man did the other night?"
"Yes, Nellie. I heard about it."
"It took ten years off my life, I was so terrified."
"I am sorry. And so is Billy."
"I don't believe that for a minute. Men like him are never sorry."
Prudence had sense enough not to belabor the issue of Billy's remorsefulness. She said, "Well, it was kind of you not to press charges."
Nellie sniffed. "I must be honest. It was an option I did consider. But this is a small town. And it's full of Joneses. My grandchildren's stepmother is a Jones – you know Evie Riggins? And I do love her. And then there's Delilah, born a Jones just like Evie. Delilah is one of my dearest friends. But then, Evie and Delilah are women. The women of the Jones family tend to be quite decent human beings. The men, however, are possessed of the devil."
"Well now, Nellie, I don't think they're that bad."
"Oh, but they are. Why, just look at Ogden Elijah himself. He married Bathsheba Riley, bless her sweet soul, over forty years ago now. And even I am willing to admit that he has probably remained true to his vows. I can almost admire him for his fidelity, especially taking into account the fact that, for the past twenty-eight years, his devotion has been to a memory.
"But faithfulness aside, Oggie Jones is still trouble. Capital T. He drinks whiskey and smokes cigars and gambles at the drop of a hat. He is loud and uncouth and when he wants something, he will go to just about any lengths to get it."
Right then, Prudence somehow managed to interject, "I love Uncle Oggie."
Nellie waved that remark away. "Yes, I'm sure. Ogden can be charming when it suits his aims. But for the most part, he's like his sons and that nephew of his – a trial, pure and simple. Trouble waiting to happen. A walking slap in the face to good Christian folk. Don't try to convince me otherwise. I do my best to get along with them, because I have to live in the same town with them." She paused, but only to gulp in a breath. "And that one, that Billy. He's the worst of a bad lot. Which is why it was extremely unwise of you to leave that child with him."
Prudence felt she had to say something in Billy's defense. "Honestly, Nellie. Billy is trying hard to learn to be a father. I believe he deserves support and encouragement. And a little trust, as well."
Nellie's small eyes seemed to get smaller. And then, out of nowhere, she gasped. "Oh, my dear!"
Prudence jumped back. "What? What's the matter?"
"Now I see what's happening here."
"What are you talking about?"
Nellie leaned in closer. "Don't let him … take advantage of you. That's all I'm going to say. Be careful. Keep your head."
"Excuse me?"
"The Jones men are … notorious with women. I could tell you stories. And I'd bet my mother's second-best china that that one, that Billy, is no different from the rest. He may even be worse, from a few things I've heard."
Prudence could hardly argue with Nellie on that point; bad Billy Jones had a real reputation when it came to women. But Billy was no danger to Prudence personally. And she told Nellie so. "There's nothing like that between Billy and me."
"He's staying alone in that house with you, isn't he?"
"With me and Jesse, yes he is."
"Well, you just be careful, dear. That's all I'm saying. He's a Jones and you're a woman. A very nice woman. There's something about those Jones men and nice women…"
"What do you mean?"
"Those Jones men can't resist nice women. Haven't you noticed? To a man, they've all taken absolutely lovely wives."
Prudence was becoming a little confused. "Is that bad?"
Nellie looked down her rather beaky nose. "Well. What do you think?"
Prudence thought it was time to end the conversation.
Nellie said, "Never mind. Don't answer. Just be careful around that man. I warn you. He will toy with you, if you let him."
"Honestly," Prudence said again. "There is nothing like that going on between Jesse's father and me."
* * *
"Let's talk," Billy said.
Prudence looked up from her copy of Forbes. Billy was standing in the arch to the dining room, a set of headphones dangling from his hand. She glanced at the mantel clock. "It's only ten after eight."
He braced a hand against the frame of the arch and leaned there, managing to look both cheerful and insolent at the same time. "Impressed?"
"What did you do, tie him to the bed?"
He cast a glance toward the ceiling, as if seeking heavenly intervention. "Oh, ye of little faith…" Then he pulled himself away from the arch and sauntered toward her. She watched him coming, feeling uneasy all of a sudden – even more uneasy than she usually felt around him.
When he was just a few feet from where she sat on the sofa, he stopped and dropped the headphones on the coffee table between them. "So. What do you say?"
"About what?"
"Put that magazine away."
She frowned. "I don't understand what you're up to."
"I told you. I want to talk."
"About what?"
He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and looked at her in a way she couldn't quite define. "About you."
"What about me?"
He let out a long breath. "It's too quiet."
"What?"
He turned for the stereo rack, which he'd set up on the far wall, between a pair of bookcases. He punched a few buttons and a moment later, music filled the room. Soft, seductive music. And a throaty, sexy woman's voice.
"Sarah Vaughan," he said.
She listened for a moment, charmed. "I thought you were strictly a country and rock 'n' roll kind of guy."
He came toward her again. "Don't try to pigeonhole me."
She put up both hands. "Sorry."
He dropped to the sofa beside her. She scooted down to the other end, putting a little bit of distance between them. In the process, her magazine fell off her lap.
He picked it up and tossed it on the table beside his headphones. "You scared of me, Prue?"
As if that was news. "You make me nervous."
"Why?"
"I never know what you're going to do next."
He laid his arm along the sofa back and his fingers brushed her shoulder. A shiver skittered across her collarbone. She couldn't decide if the touch had been intentional or purely by accident.
"So. How was church today?"
She couldn't help scoffing at that one. "As if you care."
"I care."
She frowned at him. "What are you up to?"
"Getting to know you."
"You know me. As much as you need to know me."
"Tell me about church."
She shrugged. "The sermon concerned abundance. My Cup Runneth Over, it was called. Somebody mentioned that the Reverend Johnson has a thing for the twenty-third psalm."
"I'm with the reverend."
"Sure, you are."
"I
mean it. At least concerning abundance. I'm a big believer in abundance. It means plenty for me, and that's good."
"Only you could make abundance sound reprehensible."
"Tell me more – about your morning."
"After church, I spoke with Nellie."
"How sad for you."
"She warned me about you."
"I'll bet."
"She said all the Jones men are possessed of the devil and that you're even worse than the rest of them."
He leaned a little closer to her. "Well, enough about Nellie. I want to hear about you."
She craned backward to get some distance. "What about me?"
"How did you start working for your sister?"
"Could you move down just a little? You've got more than half the sofa."
"You bet." He actually backed off an inch or two. "Now, tell me."
"What?"
He repeated, with great patience, "How you started working for your sister."
"She asked me."
"When?"
"About eight years ago. I was fresh out of college, slaving away at my first job."
"Doing what?"
"Working for a big accounting firm. Randi was still on 'Eden Beach' then." "Eden Beach" was the television series that had made Randi a star. "She was bringing in a huge amount of money. And throwing it all away. She asked me to manage her finances. I agreed."
"She said you did a great job with her money."
Prudence smiled a little, remembering. "It worked out fine for both of us."
"You went to college?"
"UCLA, yes."
"Randi told me she never went to college."
"Randi always knew what she wanted to do with her life. And for what she wanted, she didn't need college. I did."
"Randi told me you two grew up poor."
"That's right."
"So how did you afford UCLA?"
"I earned a few scholarships. And I worked."
"Prue. You are so admirable. What was your mother like?"
She said the first word that popped into her head. "Hungry."
"For what?"
"Love. Attention. Someone to take care of her. She had a lot of lovers." Now, why had she told him that?
"And what about your father?"
"What about him? He left shortly after Randi was born. He just went to work one day – and never came back. I was three then, so I hardly remember him at all."
"And after that, for your mother, the men came and went, is that it?"
"Is this information going to be useful to you in some way?"
"You bet. So the deal is, you and your sister reacted in opposite ways to the same situation. Randi became a sex goddess. And you became—"
"Look, Billy. I really hate it when people call Randi a sex goddess."
"I know you do." His tone was gentle. "But that doesn't change the truth. Randi was a sex goddess."
Prudence stood. "I don't know what you're up to tonight."
"Don't go." He looked at her hopefully, his expression open and boyish. And vulnerable.
Which she shouldn't buy for a moment. After all, a man who had seduced as many women as Billy had would need a whole repertoire of appealing expressions.
"Come on. Stay." He tipped his head at the empty space beside him on the sofa.
She remained standing. "I'm going to bed now. If you're bored, why don't you go on over to the Hole in the Wall and have yourself a drink."
His face went blank. And then his eyes grew hard. She realized how rotten that must have sounded. Shame flooded through her, making her palms sweat and her face feel too warm. "Look. I didn't mean that."
"The hell you didn't. You want me to blow it."
"No, of course I don't."
"You want me to go get blasted, so you can tell me to get the hell out."
"No. No, I don't want that."
"You're lying. But get this. I'm not going to blow it. You're not going to get rid of me. We have an agreement. And I'm sticking by it – no matter how many times you point me toward the bar."
"I did not point you toward the bar." It was an outright lie. Her shame increased as it passed her lips.
He made a low, disgusted sound. Then he picked up the remote and pointed it at the stereo. The nostalgic, seductive music stopped. He punched another button and ominous drums began playing. A man started to sing in a low, rough voice.
Billy smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile. "This is the soundtrack from Natural Born Killers. Stick around. You'll love it."
She longed to leave him there, to simply turn and walk away. But she knew she had been in the wrong, and she wouldn't be able to live with herself until she had truly apologized. "Billy. Please."
"What?"
"I won't do that again."
"You won't do what?"
"Try to get rid of you by sending you over to the bar."
He gave her a long, assessing look before muttering, "Okay." Then he picked up his headphones and settled them over his ears. He pointed the remote at the stereo and the speakers went quiet. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Prudence watched him for a few seconds, feeling edgy, wanting to shake him, make him look at her so that she could tell him – what?
She had nothing to tell him.
She turned and left him there.
* * *
Chapter 9
« ^ »
The next morning, Prudence felt apprehensive about facing Billy at breakfast.
However, when he joined her and Jesse in the kitchen, he seemed friendly enough. He greeted her in a pleasant tone and then immediately took over the supervision of Jesse's meal, followed by a visit, just the two of them, to the bathroom, where Billy showed his son how to use a toilet.
As soon as that was over, Billy went to his room and shut the door, which was just fine with Prudence. She and Jesse had a very pleasant and uneventful morning. Jesse played with his toys and Prudence put in some work on her stock portfolio. Now and then, she heard guitar music coming from behind Billy's closed door. She guessed he might be writing a song in there. It rather pleased her to imagine him writing a song in her guest room that famous singers would perform for years to come.
Billy emerged at a little before noon. They ate lunch. Jesse covered himself, his high chair and a good section of the kitchen floor with his meal. Next, while Prudence cleaned up the mess, Billy took Jesse into the bathroom and put him on the toilet again. Prudence tried not to think about the possibility of Jesse falling in. Instead, she reminded herself that Billy was in there with him, and would surely either hold him in place or catch him if a dunking looked imminent. She told herself to look on the bright side: at least Billy hadn't demanded his son stop wearing diapers.
Not so far, anyway.
Not long after the bathroom ritual was completed, it was time for Jesse's nap. Billy, of course, went with him – to stand guard. The two of them came downstairs at a little after two, looking rumpled and still sleepy, but otherwise content.
Prudence felt a certain tightness in her chest at the sight of them. They really did look a lot alike. And then, occasionally in Jesse, she could see Randi – in the tilt of his head or the flash of his smile.
At a little before three, Billy decided to take Jesse out for a walk. It was a gray day, and windy. Prudence started to advise against subjecting the toddler to the cold and damp. But one look at the set of Billy's jaw and she knew any protest would be futile.
She settled for insisting that Billy dress Jesse warmly. She even got the stroller out for them. Billy looked at it with disdain.
"This is a walk, Prue. A walk."
Prudence experienced a distinct and quite powerful urge to pick up the lamp from the side table nearby and bop him over the head with it. "Billy, be reasonable. He's hardly more than a baby."
"He can walk."
"You'll just end up carrying him."
"That's my problem, isn't it?"
They went out the do
or a few minutes later. Prudence stood in the living room, watching through the picture window as they set off side by side, with Billy holding Jesse's mittened hand. By the time they made it through the gate, Jesse was already starting to balk a little.
Resolutely Prudence turned from the window. By the end of the block, Billy would be forced to carry Jesse. They would be home much sooner than they would have been had Billy agreed to use the stroller.
"Which is good," Prudence muttered out loud. It was cold out there and the clouds threatened rain any minute now. The sooner they came back the better.
* * *
Jesse sat down at the intersection of Prospect and Rambling Lane
.
"Get up, Jess," Billy said sternly, tugging on the small hand.
"Nawp," Jesse said.
Billy tugged harder. He ended up lifting the kid clear off the sidewalk, but Jesse only hung there, refusing to put his weight on his legs.
The wind was up pretty good, reddening Jesse's button of a nose and making Billy shiver a little, even in his warm leather jacket. He wanted to turn around right then and head back for the house.
But at the house there'd be Prue to deal with. He'd get one of her smug little I-told-you-so looks when he walked back in the door not five minutes after having walked out of it. He could do without that.
And he was a little bugged at Prue anyway. She'd cut him off cold last night. Getting so upright and injured just because he'd called Randi exactly what Randi had been. And then as good as inviting him to go get drunk and blow what he was trying to accomplish here.
"Da?" Jesse said, using the name he'd started calling Billy just yesterday. He hugged his arms around himself. "Brrrrrr."
"I know," Billy said. "It's colder than a tax collector's smile out here. Come on." He knelt. Jesse reached out his arms.
Billy stood and walked on toward Main Street
, carrying his son against his chest. Jesse was a pretty good-size kid, but he wasn't that much of a burden. And his little arms felt good, holding on tight.
"We're just going to walk on over to Lily's Café, what do you say?"
"Yeah, me."
"We'll have ourselves some fruit juice or something."
"Foojoo."
"Yeah, something healthy, so when Prue asks later, we can tell her we looked out for your nutritional needs just fine."
The Taming of Billy Jones Page 10