When You Dance With The Devil (Dafina Contemporary Romance) (14 page)

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Authors: Gwynne Forster

BOOK: When You Dance With The Devil (Dafina Contemporary Romance)
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“Don’t make me pregnant,” she pleaded.
“No way, baby.” He slipped on a condom and drove himself into her. Immediately the pumping and squeezing resumed and she raised her body to him with such force that she nearly threw the two-hundred-pound man off her. He gripped her hips and accelerated his pace. It seemed to her that a thousand strange images darted before her, her nerve endings burned, and she thought she’d die if whatever he built inside of her wouldn’t let itself loose. At last, he held her still and rode her mercilessly as her hips ceased to slither over the zebra rug.
“Oh, Lord,” she screamed and sank into a vortex of oblivion. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, pumped hard a few more times, and collapsed into her arms.
Several minutes passed before he raised his head, looked down at her and said, “You came so hard. I never knew a woman to come that hard.”
Shocked by what she believed to be an inadequacy, she apologized. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you. I . . . uh . . . haven’t had much experience.”
He stared at her in what was clearly disbelief. “You sure as hell don’t need any lessons, baby.” He left her, went to the bathroom and returned fully dressed.
Embarrassed because, hoping for more of what she had just experienced, she had remained as he left her. She looked around for her dress, but didn’t see it. “May I please have a towel?” He threw her a towel and left the room while she dressed.
“When am . . . are we going to see each other again?” she asked as he walked with her to the front door of the boarding house.
“We’ll see.”
Oh Lord, she’d made a big mistake. She should have told him to take her home. Fear streaked through her. He couldn’t drop her after making her feel like that. “What do you mean?” she asked him.
He put his hands in his trouser pockets and kicked at the wooden floor of the porch. “I was liking you a whole lot, but you don’t have any real feelings for a man. You’re just after what you can get.”
Cringing, she stepped away from him. “How can you—”
He continued as if she hadn’t attempted to speak. “You were getting to a place deep inside of me, but if I hang out with you, I’ll be broke before I know it. I don’t like women who’re only out for what they can get from a man. I’m a bus driver, and you know it. I spent over two hundred dollars on this date, and that’s twenty percent of what I made last week. On top of that, you wanted a hundred and fifty dollar model ship. Last Sunday, you also wanted to go to museums, a movie and have dinner at the most expensive restaurant you’d heard about. I’m looking for a woman to build my life with. Be seeing you.”
She didn’t bother to wipe the tears that bathed her face, but ran into the house and up the stairs to her room. At last she had found a man who could do the things the men in her books did, and she’d mishandled the relationship. She didn’t know what to do or how to do it. She had never had a girlfriend, never talked with any girl or woman about boys and men and had no idea how you got a man to love you and care for you. All she had were her books, and those women were so perfect, they were educated and knew so much. She wasn’t like them and couldn’t be. She had thought that Harper cared for her, but he hadn’t.
“I’m not going to cry,” she told herself. “Maybe I won’t have anything else to do with men.” She washed her face, put on her pajamas, went to the window and gazed out at the quiet, deserted night. “It must be my fault. All these women I see with men couldn’t be crazy. But what am I doing wrong?” Dispirited, she closed the curtain and, in doing so, banished the night and let her own gloom envelope her. Needing comfort, she reached for her book, but put it aside. Nothing the men in those books did matched what Harper did to her and how he made her feel. For the first time in months, she didn’t take one of her books to bed.
The following morning, Monday, she arrived at the bus stop early, counted out the exact fare and boarded as soon as the bus arrived. She dropped two dollars and fifty cents into the slot and headed toward the back of the bus before she realized that Harper wasn’t sitting in the driver’s seat. Maybe he’d asked for another route. A twinge of pain settled in the region of her heart when she recalled his lecture prior to his parting words: “Be seeing you.”
He didn’t have to quit his route just to get away from me. If he doesn’t want me, I sure don’t want him. Why hadn’t she told him that instead of running away, ashamed?
Fear streaked through her when her boss met her at the door, for she was certain that he intended to fire her or at least give her a tongue lashing, although she couldn’t imagine what for.
“I’m putting fifty dollars more in your pay envelope every week, Jolene. You’re doing okay.”
She was stunned, for he hadn’t complimented her on her work or even suggested that he was satisfied, and her weak expression of appreciation caused him to gape. “If you don’t need the raise, I can put the money in the bank for my kid. Ask any of these operators whether I ever volunteered to give them a raise.”
“Oh, no, sir. I’m so surprised, I didn’t know what to say. I’m grateful for it. I sure am.”
His expression had the air of a man who appreciated himself. “That’s better.”
“Can you help me for an hour after work today?” Vida asked Jolene while they sat in the back of the shop eating their lunch. “I swear I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp. I’m sorry about last time.”
Harper probably wouldn’t be driving the six o’clock bus, and even if he was, it wouldn’t matter. She had nothing planned. “All right, but if you’re not there at five-thirty, I’m leaving.”
Vida’s stare had a hint of hostility, but Jolene didn’t back down. She wanted Vida for a friend, but she didn’t want Fannie to make her leave the boardinghouse. “Last time, I didn’t get home till nine o’clock, and I had to listen to my landlady dress me down for missing supper. The cost of supper’s included in my rent, but I had to buy another supper ’cause you came home later than you said.”
“I’ll be there on time, Jolene. Just please help me out this afternoon.”
“All right. But I’m leaving there at five-thirty.”
She enjoyed Vida’s twins and looked forward to being with them, but she sensed that it would be unwise to let Vida know it. At five twenty-five, she had an attack of anxiety. If she didn’t get to supper on time, she’d have an argument with Fannie and probably have to leave the most peaceful life she had ever known. But did she dare leave the twins alone? The two little brown faces looked up to her with brilliant smiles and sparkling eyes waiting for her to read more of
Puss ‘n Boots.
“I can’t do it,” she said to herself. “I’d die if anything happened to them. From now on, Vida can pay her sitter to stay here until she comes home from wherever she goes after work. She doesn’t bring packages home, so she isn’t shopping, as she said she was.”
At ten minutes to six, she telephoned Fannie and asked her to have Marilyn save her some supper. “I can’t help it,” she said. “If you’re up when I get there, I’ll tell you all about it.”
To her surprise, Fannie agreed. “We don’t usually do that, but you seem distressed, so I’ll put something away for you.”
“Sorry,” Vida said when she rushed in.
Angry beyond words, Jolene walked past her without speaking. Her mood hadn’t changed when she boarded the bus for her trip home, and not until the driver said, “What put that scowl on you face, sistah?” did she look at him. The voice did not belong to Harper Masterson.
“I think you drove me to Salisbury this morning,” she said.
“I did indeed.”
Did that mean Harper didn’t work that day? It wasn’t his day off, she mused. “Where’s the man who usually drives this route?”
He closed the door and headed for Pike Hill. “You mean Harper? He got in an accident last night on one of those back roads between Ocean Pines and Pike Hill. Got banged up pretty bad. I expect he’ll be out for a good while.” She wouldn’t have been more stunned if he’d shot her. She opened her mouth to say she was sorry, but no words came.
The driver glanced up at her. “Was he your old man?”
She didn’t dare tell the truth. “N . . . no. But we talked a lot. I’m . . . uh . . . If you go to see him, tell him I’m sorry.” And she was. About everything. She trudged to the back of the bus and sat down. She hadn’t caused Harper’s accident, but guilt pervaded her. She had the presence of mind to tell the driver good night when she got off the bus. As she turned off Bay Avenue into Ocean Road, looking neither right nor left, she grabbed her chest. “Oh!” she exclaimed, before remembering that the ghostly figure before her could only be her own shadow. She walked faster, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, until she reached the boardinghouse. Once on the porch, she leaned against the house to catch her breath.
Almost immediately, Fannie opened the door. “Come on in. You seem washed out. I hope you don’t mind eating your supper in the kitchen. I don’t want the others to see you and think I make exceptions.”
She wondered what Fannie’s moment of largess would cost her, but she was so glad for it that she smiled her appreciation and told herself not to be cynical. “The kitchen’s fine. Thanks.”
Jolene followed Fannie into Marilyn’s pristine sanctuary, a kitchen furnished with polished stainless steel shelving, refrigerator, freezer, sinks and stoves, hanging copper cookware, all set off with brick walls and floor. She’d never seen such a kitchen.
“This is beautiful.”
“Cost me a fortune, but it’s worth it. If Marilyn can’t have the best working conditions, she won’t stay. Let’s sit over here at this little table,” Fannie said, bringing a tray of food for Jolene and a cup of coffee for herself. “What happened to you?”
She told Fannie about her relationship with Vida and added, “My mother never let me have friends. Never. I was always alone, and I still don’t have any friends. Vida’s the only one at the shop who talked to me. I wanted her to be my friend, but she upset me today. I told her I wouldn’t get my supper if I missed the six o’clock bus, and she walked in the house five minutes before six. If I had left those little children alone in that apartment, I could have been jailed for it, and she knew it. It’s the third time she’s let me down, promising to be home by five-thirty and not getting there till it’s almost six o’clock.”
Jolene stroked the back of her neck, trying to rub away the tension. She thought for a second. “Each time Vida asked me to baby-sit, she said she had to buy something for the children, but each time she came home without a shopping bag. Empty-handed. She’s not shopping. So, what is she doing? Why does she need me to baby-sit every day all of a sudden?”
Fannie sipped coffee and tapped the table with the fingers of her left hand. “She’s using you. You want her for a friend, and she knows it, so she’s taking advantage of you. The woman’s not shopping; she’s probably seeing a man. You should put a stop to this right now. She isn’t behaving as a true friend, and you shouldn’t accept that kind of behavior from anybody.”
“I just wanted to help her.”
“No. You wanted a friend, and you did things for her that you thought would make her like you. You convinced yourself that she needed you. She doesn’t. Jolene, look straight at me. The richest person in the world can’t buy friendship or love. You can buy people’s company, but when the money’s gone, the people go with it.”
“But I—”
“What does she offer you other than a chance to play with her children? You don’t need playmates.”
“I thought . . . I don’t know. I guess I’m not good at making friends with women or men.”
Jolene lowered her gaze to avoid seeing the pity in Fannie’s eyes. “Honey, your mother was an unhappy woman who hated men and distrusted women, and she really did a job on you. Stop letting her attitudes weigh you down, girl.”
Fannie was right in that Emma Tilman was a bitter, hate-filled woman, but she had never associated herself with it, hadn’t realized that she had assimilated her mama’s attitudes.
Burdened by Fannie’s admonishments, Jolene stood to end the conversation. “Yes ma’am. Thanks for saving my supper.”
“Are you going to baby-sit for that woman tomorrow?”
“No, indeed. She can find somebody else. Not me.”
Jolene tried to force herself to tell Fannie good night and go to her room, but her conscience flailed her, and she stood rooted to the spot.
How do you think Harper felt when he realized you used him? Is that why he had the accident? And what about Gregory? Did you treat him right?
In her mind, she denied both, but she didn’t believe in her innocence.
She looked steadily at Fannie. “If a man asks you for a date, does that mean he cares for you?”
Fannie’s lower lip dropped. “It means you interest him. Whether he learns to care for you depends on a lot of things including how you act, what you say and how you say it, what kind of person you are. He doesn’t fall head over heels for you just because you smile at him, wear a size thirty-eight D bra and swing your behind when you walk.”
Jolene trudged up the stairs to her room, perplexed and confused. How different was she from other women?
If I had a real friend, somebody my age, we could talk.
She turned on the faucet, tested the water and stepped under the shower. “I want some friends,” she said aloud, “but not badly enough to let people walk over me. From now on, I’m gonna be careful.”

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