Slow Dancing (16 page)

Vigorously scrubbing his hands like he was preparing to perform surgery, Alan doubted he was capable of pulling off any intrigue, emotions after meeting Ellen too close to the surface. His nature was to take advantage of people, not pretend to have meaningful relationships, but if he was going to reform, he had to address the betrayal of confidence with Mary. She handed him a towel to dry off his hands. “What happened?” she repeated.

“Let’s go in there,” he said, pointing to the living room. She walked ahead of him and that was when he noticed she’d changed out of her uniform. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. Now what’s going on? You’re making me nervous.” Alan was pacing, wanting to word this just right.

“It was my understanding you wanted to keep your
private life private
. Those were your exact words. Correct?”

“Correct.” But she knew what he was getting at, and he could tell he struck a nerve because she flushed, her tan complexion turning ruddy.

“I was taken by surprise to hear you’d told Frank we were having a date
and
that I needed a job.”

“Yes, well I am sorry about that. I see now that I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said anything to him. I guess I thought it would be helpful.” She was sitting on the edge of the couch, looking fetching in a strapless sundress, her knees uncovered, just a hint of cleavage. Looking at her defused his anger, causing him to lose his train of thought.

“Oh well, it’s over with.”

“What just happened? You looked like you were ready to explode.”

“Yeah, I think I have you to thank. Evidently, the only job in town is at the auto parts store. What’s with Paul Sherman? Now I’ve gotta
work
with the man. He touches me once and I’m outta there.” Just thinking about the encounter agitated Alan again, and he started to pace. Mary put her hand up at her face as unobtrusively as she could and burst out laughing.

“Poopy Paul? There’s nothing wrong with him that a good scrub down wouldn’t cure.”

“And what about that uniform? He’s as polished as an admiral.”

“Air Force habits die hard, I guess. Listen, I’m sorry about everything. So you got the job? That’s good news, isn’t it?” Alan turned from her and started to pace again. The urge to get in his car and flee, maybe even return to Noelle, was strong. Noelle. He’d never called her. If he was going to turn over a new leaf, he should call her and end it, not leave her hanging.

“I guess it is if you don’t have to work with him. Mary, I have to make a call. Will you excuse me? I’ll run over to the grocery store. There’s a phone there.”

“You can call from my phone.” She pointed to the kitchen.

“It’s personal,” he explained. “I’d rather not go into it now.”

“Well, I’ll sit outside then. You don’t have to go back uptown.” She left the room before he could protest. What he was about to do was so foreign to him he hardly knew where to begin. Dialing the number, he felt sick to his stomach.

She answered on the first ring. “Alan, I’ve been so worried. I thought you’d get in touch before this.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I’m very sorry,” he replied. “But I’m not coming back. I found a job and as soon as I get paid I’ll send you a money order to cover whatever I owe you.” There was silence for a moment.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t want your goddamned money! I thought we had something going. You said you love me!” He didn’t know how to respond to her. They could go on and on. So he decided to end the call.

“Thank you for your help,” he said. “I’m saying goodbye; so goodbye.” And with that he hung up. He didn’t feel great about it, but it was better than thinking about her waiting for him all the time. Now he could start fresh with… whomever.

Walking to the front door, he looked out at Mary sitting on the porch. She had nice hair, stylishly cut one length. At the café, she had it pulled into a ponytail but this afternoon, it was down around her shoulders. “Come back in. Thanks for the use of the phone.” She got up from the porch and held onto the door he was holding for her.

“Is everything okay?”

“Well, yes and no. But I’m not ready to discuss it with you or anyone else yet. Is that okay? I mean, if it’s not we can break our date and I won’t bother you again. I just need time to take care of something, nothing sneaky, just private. Are you up for that?”

Mary wasn’t used to men talking to her like this, caring what her opinion was, or asking her for something. They usually wanted only one thing and they took it and ran. This man might be interested enough that she’d have to sacrifice something. He was asking her to trust him and she had no idea with what.

“I think so. I’m not sure what you expect of me, but I guess I’m up for it. I mean, I hope you’re worth it. I hope you think
I’m
worth it. We’re just going dancing, right? For some reason, I’m getting pulled into your life and I wonder if that’s what you want.”

“Well, you helped me land a job, humble though it may be. If I have to be seen in a blue uniform I might not survive.”

“Pretend you’re a cop,” she said, laughing. “Or in the Air Force. There’s a base in Mobile.” It made him laugh along with her, embarrassed.

“I think I’m going to insist I wear my own clothes.”

“You can do that,” she said. “By the way, I brought leftover beef roast home from the café so we can eat here. No need to go out and spend money neither of us has. I don’t know why but being around you is making me think with a level head.”

Alan frowned. “That, my dear is a new one. I don’t believe I’ve ever had that effect on a woman before.” But he laughed. “Maybe you’ll change my luck.”

“Maybe you’ll change
my
luck!” she said.

“I appreciate the meal, too,” he said. “But we can go out, now that I’m making the big bucks over at Paul’s Auto Supply.”

“I’ve got the food, so we should stay in and save your money until it starts to roll in again. What did you say you did in a former life? Something with cars, correct?”

“I sold them,” he answered. “That’s right. I’m a car salesman, or at least I used to be. I made an okay living at it until the market crashed. It’s been a struggle these past months, years. Yep, it’s been almost a year. They won’t go on extending unemployment forever.”

Mary waved him to follow her into the kitchen so she could start dinner. “So you came here to find a job?” He debated telling her the truth, but decided it was much too early.

“Yes, among other things. I had no idea I’d find one so soon. And not in Seymour.”

She turned to him with a foil wrapped pack of beef. “How far in advance did you pay for your room?” It was a nervy thing to ask.

“Just a week. I can take the bus in with Miss Logan tomorrow.” Mary laughed out loud.

“Lovely. Fill her in on your latest dating escapade.”

“Is that all you’re worried about?” he asked, his voice husky, pulling her into an embrace. “You don’t
know
me. Why are you bothering?”

He’d taken her by surprise, no palpable chemistry between them until that very second. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “You’re handsome and funny, and I’m lonely. Is that enough fuel to start up a relationship?” Stroking her hair, he thought about what she’d said.

“In a romance novel, I’d be a scoundrel. I use women and don’t have a job. What more do you want to know? Wait, today I did make one change. I called a woman; I owe you for a long distance call by the way; I told her I wasn’t coming back. It hurt her, but at least now she can move on and not wait for my eventual return.”

“So are you saying you have women all over the country?”

“Well, no, not exactly. There was the one in Florida. I think the women in Texas know by now I’m not coming back there anytime soon. No point in opening up old wounds to apologize.” She laughed. He was waving his own red flag and she was ignoring it.

“Are you going to leave here in the night, too? Break my heart someday?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean I might break your heart, but I won’t be leaving here. I’ve got reason to stay.”

“And you’re not ready to share it with me yet, right?”

“Right. You learn fast.”

“Oh golly, I really don’t,” she said, sighing. “Let’s eat.”

Sitting in her cramped apartment with the phone in her hand, Noelle wasn’t sure what had just happened. Sadness that he’d rudely ended their relationship so soon after leaving to find his daughter welled up in her chest and she started to weep. “Why? We were so good together!” All of the drivel he whispered while he made love to her came back; sweet words that melted her heart, made her feel alive and loved for the first time in her life. He did things to her body that no man had ever taken the time to do before, and her passion scared her, yodeling screams of pleasure. When she’d finish, he’d be smiling at her.

“Good, huh?” he’d whisper in her ear. Shuddering now, her hands over her face she burst into tears.

Because of it, her love for him was unlike anything she’d had before. She hadn’t cared that he was unemployed, that he ate her food and slept in her bed, used up all her gas and never offered to fill the tank while his own car sat idle. Lying in bed alone, the heat of a Florida night scorched her sore throat, the result of screaming. It would sink in after midnight; a man had taken advantage of her, again.

Instead of placing her anger on Alan right away, visions of her little son’s tiny face, stolen from her when he was just a few months old, materialized, shimmering like an apparition. She shook her head to get it to go away, the pain overwhelming, but it persisted, and left growing rage in its wake.

Fury that would fester until it was overpowering, offered itself up like a sacrifice. The next day it would fuel her; make it possible for her to go to work so she could fulfill her financial obligations. It would also nourish her creative mind, envisioning fantasies about how she’d get even with Alan, making him a scapegoat for the loss of her son years before. The ideas flowed like honey, cloying and slow moving. Becoming obsessed with Alan, the pain of his betrayal unbearable, a new goal was to find out where he was. But first, needs she’d buried while he was available to her came to the surface.

Work was torture. As soon as she got home, taking a sharp knife out of the kitchen silverware drawer, she sat at the table, pulling her navy scrub shirt up and very carefully whittled the letter A in the soft flesh of her belly. Warm blood flowing down into her waistband and between her legs diluted the pain, temporarily transferring the fantasies of what she’d do to Alan, to herself.

Chapter 14

Cate and Miss Logan tried to keep it light during dinner, but it was obvious to them both that they’d looked forward to seeing Alan again all day and when he didn’t show up, they were not only angry with him, they were disappointed. “Can my life be so friggin empty that a stranger has that strong of an effect on me?” Miss Logan admitted. “I better do something about that.”

“Me, too,” Cate said. “I even put my eyebrows on.” Miss Logan burst out laughing.

“Look at me! I haven’t had this thing on in twenty years,” she said, pulling the fabric of her palazzo pants out at the sides. “It’s almost back in style. Oh what the hell.

The next morning at breakfast, the women were back to normal. And there was no Alan again. “So, Prince Charming didn’t come home last night.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Cate said, lying. “He could come down the stairs any minute.”

“Well, don’t hold your breath,” Miss Logan said. “I hope he’s not laying dead somewhere.”

“I’m alive and well,” Mr. Rosen said, walking into the dining room.

“We weren’t talking about you,” Miss Logan said. “Although my next question was going to be where in God’s name
is
that old man this mornin’?”

“You’re new obsession didn’t show up after all,” he said, unfolding the paper. “I heard Sally run to the window every time a car passed by.”

“You’re an ass Rosen; I never did any such thing,” Miss Logan replied. Cate was in the corner, drinking coffee and had to swallow a mouth full before she spewed it all over the dining room.

“Cate, with all due respect I heard
you
up all night, too. Now I can’t wait to meet this man to see what charms he embodies.”

“Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him,” Miss Logan said, high-fiving with Cate.

“I’m not sure your man can teach someone of my repute much,” he said, but laughed. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Cold cereal and toast,” Emil said forlorn, wrinkling his nose. “I’m used to a hot breakfast.”

“Then move to a house that has a sous chef in the kitchen,” Cate snapped.

“Cold cereal’s fine,” Mr. Rosen replied quickly.

The sounds of cutlery clinking against china and coffee poured echoed through the hallway as Alan tiptoed up to his room. He wanted to shower and shave before he started his new job.

“Listen. I hear water running. There’s someone else in the house,” Emil said. Everyone paused, coffee cups to lips and spoons in the air.

“It’s the savior,” Mr. Rosen said. “Hallelujah! We can get back to normal now.” Fifteen minutes later, Emil Magda off to work and Miss Logan, unusually quiet that morning about to leave for her salon, Alan came down the stairs, bothered when he saw the door to the dining room open. There was no way he could avoid a confrontation.

“Well, good morning,” he said, jovially.

“You missed Emil,” Miss Logan said, smirking. “He just left for work.”

“Pity,” Alan said, relieved.

“Alan Johnson,” he said, offering his hand to the only man in the room.

“Meet Mr. Rosen,” Miss Logan said.

“Ben Rosen. Pleased to meet you. Cold cereal for breakfast today.” Cate gave him the evil eye.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” he said, pulling out the chair next to Miss Logan.

“So! We missed you at dinner last night,” she said. “Roast chicken. One of our favorites here at Towering Pines.”

“I am sorry about that. Got a job in Seymour and ended up coming back down here to dance with Miss Cook.” He purposely let that last bit out, without Mary’s approval.