Galveston (38 page)

“You're very lovely, you know.”

“Oh, I … it's nice of you to say so.”

“There are some things I never say out of nicety. Come back here and kiss me again. Why should you be so anxious to go?”

I went and sat on the edge of the bed. He kissed me once, then pulled away. “No guilt feelings or anything?”

“No, not right now. Only a fear I'll get caught.”

“The light of day …” he said, smiling. “Just a piece of information for you, Serena dear. Don't ever feel guilty about what happens between us. It's all a hoax, this demand put on people by society, that nice girls mustn't ever enjoy themselves.

“And also, you were wonderful today, so much better than I could have imagined, but you'll be better in time, just as I will be for you. You needn't pretend it was perfect.

“You may be a little uncomfortable for a day or so, but it won't last beyond that, and—”

Why did he have to analyze it, bringing it all down to simple facts, indisputable things that could prey on my mind? “Oh, Roman,” I said, and buried my head on his chest. He didn't reply, just stroked my hair and let me stay there until I was ready to get up.

At the door, I turned and told him, “It's going to be a long time till Monday, and how I shall loathe Sunday.”

“Will you have to see that self-righteous prig, the organist?”

“I'm afraid so, unless I break it off with him, which perhaps I may—”

“Watch out, darling. Don't be overly daring yet. Best to go along with your routine, to act as though nothing unusual is going on. If you think you can trust the boy, bring him along to the Fischer place every day. I'll meet you there, and if the coast is clear we'll come back here. No one ever enters this room except me. I have the only key.”

“Not even the manager, or the professor have—?”

“Only me.”

“You must be quite important to have such a privilege.”

“King has no choice but to put up with me. I'm the only star he has.”

“You sound as though he doesn't like it much.”

“He doesn't. But not every good musician is willing to put up with a traveling show, either.”

“I suppose not. Roman, have you had this room every summer since—?”

“Yes, indeed. This is where I bring all my beautiful captives and torture them, didn't you guess? Now I'd better walk you down and see if anyone's outside.”

We went stealthily down the stairs, and once outside he looked around and announced it was safe for me to come out. “Go on, darling,” he said, holding my hands. “Be careful, and don't ditch me now you've got me all tied around your finger.”

“Roman, you don't think me … easy, do you? I mean, that I just … with anyone … that I was just putting up a front?”

“There's no question,” he said. “I would have known up there, if there was.”

Strangely, though there were bound to be obstacles confronting us and although what I was doing was contrary to everything I'd ever been taught, I didn't worry over these problems as I walked back from the beach. I had an exhilarating sense of freedom that not even the sea had ever given me. It was as though all the frustrations awaiting me at home no longer existed.

I should no longer mind all the hours of being pent up with Mother, if I had the following morning with Roman to look forward to. I could even endure Nick a little easier, now that Roman had made himself a definite part of my life, secure in the knowledge that, no matter what Nick let himself believe, we would never be anything more than friends. For I was now certain I would never marry Nick Weaver. If Roman left and never came back, and I must spend the rest of my life looking after Mother and attending church bazaars, an aging spinster having only the memory of love to sustain me, I would never marry Nick. He would not snatch my happiness from me. No one could take the morning from me, even if it were never to be repeated.

In the afternoon I sat in front of my vanity and studied my face in the mirror. As a rule, I didn't spend much time doing this, not like Marybeth, whose dresser was lined with exotic creams and powders, and French perfumes, but that day I felt as though I must somehow look differently. Surely my cheeks had more color, there was more light in my eyes. Was I really beautiful, just as he had said? I'd never thought of myself as beautiful, had even taken James's notions of my being so as childish prattle. But to be told by a man one is beautiful, a man like Roman Cruz …

Yet another disturbing thought occurred to me as I sat there. Suppose I should become in the family way? Marybeth had told me long ago it took only once, and had said something vague about “certain precautions,” yet I hadn't paid much attention, never imagining I might be faced with such a problem. Now I wished I'd listened more attentively to her, asked questions …

Of course I couldn't discuss the matter with Roman. He'd given me a chance to back out. Now that I had chosen not to, he would expect me to be intelligent enough to know—or at least to find out—how to avoid this problem. If I even brought up the subject with him, he'd probably be put off, bored with my ignorance. And even if not, I'd be far too bashful to tell him what was on my mind. Oh, it was silly, I knew, but I just couldn't …

There was one saving grace, which dawned on me then. Often I'd heard women say that if a woman has trouble becoming pregnant, most of the time her daughters will be so afflicted. My mother and father were married almost seven years before I was born, and another six before Donnie came. So it followed, didn't it, that I could not conceive a child any more easily than Mother had?

That thought put my fears at rest. Assuming Roman Cruz were to go on wanting me (oh, please, God, don't let him tire of me!), I could perhaps try to find out what Marybeth meant by “certain precautions.” Yet it all seemed so foolish when I thought of Mother …

Later, after I'd finished cleaning my room, which I had done out of an urgent need to be busy, Dad knocked lightly on my door. “Yes, come in.”

“Hello, dear Nan, how are you?”

“Fine, and you? How're things down at the church? Did Claire work on the garden today?”

“No, I haven't seen her all day till just now. She called from the fence to invite us to dinner, so you needn't bother fixing anything. I said we'd be there around seven.”

“Oh? Would you mind going without me? I don't think I feel up to it tonight.”

“Are you ill, Nan, anything wrong?”

“No, I'm fine, just don't feel like going.”

“You're not angry, or disappointed, about last night?”

“Of course not. As you said, how serious could things have gotten between Roman Cruz and me at this point? What you said made good sense. Don't worry.”

“Good. I knew you'd see it once you had thought about it. But Claire will be disappointed about your not coming. It wouldn't hurt to leave Mother alone for just a little while, I don't suppose.”

“I know. Really, I just don't want to go.”

“All right. I'll stop by and tell her on my way down to Schott's, to pick up Mother's medicine. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks,” I said, and he left, shutting the door again. I looked in the mirror to be sure nothing showed in my face. It was something I would often do, over the remainder of the summer.

James knocked on the door at five o'clock, while Dad was sitting in his chair reading the
News
. “I'll get it,” I said, anxious to get alone with James before he'd gotten in the house.

“Well, how did it go?” I asked him as we sat on the steps.

“As a matter of fact, it went well. I met a new friend—Tommy Driscoll. He lives down the street on the corner. His father's an undertaker.”

“I know.”

“Anyway, he asked me to go crabbing with him early tomorrow morning. Gets twenty-five cents a dozen for the catch. He explained to me all about how he does it, letting down the line and so forth. Of course I'll be back early enough to go down to Marybeth's with you, that is, if you want me to.…”

“James, that's something I've got to talk to you about. How are you at keeping secrets?”

“Foolproof. Even Mother used to trust me with secrets from Dad. You know, like surprises for his birthday, and that kind of thing.”

“I see … that's good. As you know, my father forbade me to see Roman again.”

“Yes, although I don't see why.”

“Trouble is, I'm afraid I've fallen in love with him—that probably sounds silly to you, but remember, you're my closest friend and I have to confide in someone.”

“No, I don't think it's silly. People are supposed to fall in love. Mother always said so.”

“It isn't a bit fair, what I'm going to ask you, but I've thought it over and there's no other choice.”

“You're not going to let me go to the beach with you anymore, is that it?”

“On the contrary. I do want you to go with me every time you can. You see, it's my only hope of seeing Roman. I know it isn't right, seeing him without Dad's permission … but someday I hope to make him understand about us, and in the meantime … Well, anyway, Roman will come round to Marybeth's to get me, and I'll go with him so we can be together for a while. Do you understand?”

“It might look funny if you don't take me along, is that it?”

“Yes, that's part of it; if we're to be honest with each other as we promised, then I must be honest now. Sometimes a girl needs to ask a favor of her best friend. But there's more. I want you to go because Marybeth's place is such a wonderful spot for bathing—whether or not I'm around—and you couldn't get in there without me.”

“Where will you and Roman go?”

I hesitated for a moment, then answered, “I'll be able to watch him rehearse sometimes. And there's a little room in one of the towers of the Pavilion where we can … talk in privacy sometimes. Or we can walk on the beach together. You see, we may have no more time than this summer together, so it has to be this way. Don't think I'd condone lying to my father about anything else, James. I don't believe in sneaking. Only this once …”

“I understand. Parents don't always see what's best, even if they should.”

“Oh, I feel awful about this, James, but what else can I do?”

“Don't feel that way. I won't let you down. But you wouldn't run away, would you?”

“Of course not. Why do you ask?”

“I don't know. I was thinking of something that happened in Grady last year. It isn't important.”

“No, tell me.”

“There was this girl, Lucille Carlson. She was pretty. She even had a natural beauty mark on her right temple. She lived down the street from us, and was always sneaking out when her parents weren't looking. I would often see her, at nighttime.

“Anyway, she met up with a handsome gambler named Alexander Polk, who drifted into town one day like a lot of gamblers do in Grady. I'd shined his shoes one morning outside my father's store, and he'd told me his name—seemed to be proud of it. Then later I overheard Dad telling Mother that Lucille had taken up with him.

“One day Lucille disappeared. Her mother found a note saying she'd gone off to marry Alexander Polk, and not to look for her for they'd never find her.”

“She found the man of her dreams, then?”

“Not exactly, because they did find her. A few days later some hunters found her body lying face down in a ravine outside of town. She'd been beaten, then drowned.”

“Oh …”

“So you can see what I thought of today when you said what you did about you and Roman. It's silly, I know, because if Roman Cruz would rescue me from those creatures, he certainly couldn't be the sort who would do anything to harm anyone. But then, we did say we'd be honest.”

“Yes, I see.”

I chatted on with him, but the story of Lucille Carlson hung in my mind. It wasn't that I connected it at all with Roman, only that it seemed so hopeless for a girl ever to find real happiness without taking a risk. Even Marybeth found her happiness in risk. Her mother and father must have tried to marry her off to six different wealthy bachelors from time to time, but she'd have none of it. She would rather meet someone on the sly for a few stolen moments, and run the risk of never marrying, rather than to compromise.

I was only half listening to James, when something he said about Helga caught my full attention.

What about Helga?”

“Today at lunch. Cousin Claire suggested she ought to go for a visit with her brother in San Antonio, maybe stay a couple of weeks.”

“Oh. What a nice gesture.”

“Well, it's funny, but Helga didn't like the idea. I could tell that. It was odd to see her looking kind of sad, you know, when Claire mentioned it, because she never laughs or smiles or anything. But she did look sad.”

“Didn't she and her brother have an argument when she came back here to Galveston with Claire? It seems I heard Dad mention it once.”

“I don't know. If they did, that would explain her refusing the paid vacation Cousin Claire offered her. But you know Claire, she just keeps pressing on, not worrying she might be interfering with someone else's wishes. I heard Mother telling Dad once that she was bad about that.”

“Yes, she is. Did she give up the idea though?”

“No. She made Helga promise to think it over, and kept telling her it was really what she ought to do.”

“Hm … let me know what happens, will you? Sometimes Claire's acts of kindness are a little misguided, though I'm sure she means well.”

“Yes, that's what Mother always told Dad. Well, I've got to go now. Can't you come to dinner? Helga's made spice cake with nuts and raisins. I bought them on special at Cook's earlier today.”

“Sounds tempting, but I can't make it tonight.”