She waited in the silent stillness of her apartment, her thoughts drifting in the abyss of the long-distance line. Could wait no longer. “What?”
“If we don’t talk before then, I’ll get in touch with you after Danielle’s killer’s found.”
When she didn’t answer, he said, “I promise.”
“Good luck,” was all she could think of to say, the words choked and heavy.
She was sure he uttered her name once, softly, “Mary,” then the phone clicked and droned in her ear. The conversation had gone so quickly she hadn’t even told him about what Jake had done, and how she’d evicted him from her apartment and her life. Damn! Rene was the one person she desperately wanted to tell. But now she couldn’t. Not yet.
She let the receiver clatter into its cradle and sat staring straight ahead into an uncertain future, afraid.
What’s happening? What am I letting happen?
What really frightened her, what thrilled her, was feeling the tug of a dark and powerful current, strange yet familiar, and not knowing where it would carry her.
In the street below he stood in the shadows and watched her windows, waiting for a glimpse of her as she moved about her apartment.
There!
She’d crossed his line of vision, a figure so fleeting it might have been any woman who vaguely resembled her. Yet he could feel the connection between them, so intimate, the thing that linked their fates to a single profound destiny.
That one brief look at her heightened his resolve, and he stood without moving, staring and seldom blinking, until all her windows went dark.
30
Trying not to think about Rene, Mary concentrated with heightened intensity on her dancing. It was safe and predictable, the reassuring and protective pattern in her life.
Mel was more than pleased by her progress, no doubt assuming it was solely their conversation in the Hungry Hobo that had stoked her fire. When they danced Latin steps requiring the smoldering eye contact that would impress judges, Mary was convinced that occasionally something real and vibrant passed between them. He was learning about her; each time they tangoed he’d remind her that this dance was one of male domination, and she must convey that in her interpretation at the Ohio Star Ball. The tango had been born in Argentina, banned by government and church for its sensuality, popularized in France, and here was Mary working to impress judges in Ohio. In that context, her situation with Rene seemed not so remarkable.
A new Mel was emerging, or at least a dimension of him she hadn’t expected. The fierceness of his dedication and competitiveness surprised and awed her. She wondered what other Mels might live inside his young skin. What else might she not know about him?
It was odd, she thought, that she was the one who’d finally ended her affair with Jake. He was the only man in her life who’d never deserted her. Duke had left her, by drinking and dying. Her high school sweetheart, Wayne, had married his second cousin shortly after graduation. Mel? There was no denying that Mel was being paid for his attention; if she stopped writing checks to Romance Studio, the magic door to the dance floor, and to Mel, would close. Even Rene was now distant from her, though there was good reason. Other men in her life, such as Victor, didn’t count because she couldn’t care about them, sometimes couldn’t stand to be near them.
And her involvement with Jake did seem to be ended, for him as well as for her. There were no roses this time. Not even a phone call.
That was fine. That was the way Mary wanted it. She was sure she was strong enough to turn Jake away if she had to, but she didn’t want to be put to the test.
Except for her dancing, and the fact that Angie seemed better but was seeing more of Fred, Mary’s life stayed on a satisfactory level into early September.
Too satisfactory to last.
She was in the shower when Jake flung aside the plastic curtain so abruptly it tore. Some of the metal rings fixing it to the rod broke and clattered like bouncing coins over the tile floor.
Her heart jumped with fear and she heard the soap thump! on the bottom of the bathtub.
He was smiling at her in a way she recognized, as if she weren’t Mary, but merely an object placed on earth for his amusement, an inflatable doll with deluxe features.
Fear squeezing her words, she said, “I’ll have you arrested for rape, Jake. This isn’t a goddamn movie where the girl always swoons if only she’s pushed around enough.”
He moved closer, the shower spray splashing on his bare arm. “Isn’t it?”
She cowered back into the corner of the shower stall, staring at his hand, noticing it was trembling. Don’t lose control, Jake. God, don’t lose control.
“Turn off the water and get in the bedroom,” he commanded in a strained voice. “It isn’t going to be flowers and sweetness this time. You’ve shown you don’t deserve it.”
And suddenly she was calm when she should have been most frightened. “You might eventually get your way, Jake, but I’m going to fight you. Then I’ll go to the police. Then I’ll go to court. I can do that, and I will, I swear. Rape means prison, Jake. I’ll sell everything I’ve got and borrow more, and I’ll hire the best lawyer in the city and I’ll see to it that rape means prison.”
He backed away a few steps, seeming more puzzled than afraid of her threats. She realized it was her lack of fear that was making him hesitate. She was supposed to be programmed to give in and then forgive. That was how he remembered her. That was Mary.
“Damned if I don’t think you mean it,” he said through a shaky smile. “Did you think I was really gonna rape you, Mary?”
She was aware of the water pounding on her, getting cold. She reached out and twisted the shower handle to Off. “I still think so, Jake.” Goose bumps were breaking out on her shoulders and arms; she hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“Let’s talk about this,” Jake said.
“Our talking days are over. Leave now or I go to the phone and call the police.” She was amazed that, despite her nudity, she’d managed to summon a degree of dignity to lend weight to the threat.
“But I haven’t even done anything.”
“You broke in here.”
“Oh no, I used my key. That’s perfectly legal. And I never even touched you.”
“Leave the key on the table on your way out.”
He stood poised for a moment, mentally and physically off balance. He’d encountered a new and unexpected strength in her and didn’t know how to react. Emotions pulled at his features. His lower lip twitched and for a terrible moment she thought he might begin to sob, beg her to take him back, but he’d merely been trying to find words to speak.
Whatever words he’d found, he couldn’t utter them intelligibly.
He backed from the bathroom, looking at her with an odd and decisive detachment, and he was gone almost as suddenly as he’d arrived.
She heard the front door slam.
She stepped from the tub and wrapped her robe around her without bothering to dry herself. Her teeth chattered until she clenched her jaw. She was shaking and cold inside the robe.
In the living room she saw Jake’s key lying next to the lamp on the end table by the sofa. She picked it up and squeezed it until its edges hurt her palm. The threat of the police had turned Jake away because he knew she’d meant it. She remembered what he’d told her about Edward G. Robinson being tough because he knew he was tough. Well, she and Jake had both known this time she was tough enough to follow through on her threat.
She wished she could talk to Rene and tell him the police were good for something after all.
Instead she went to the door and fastened the chain lock.
