Truth or Dare (16 page)

     “Can you call the Bergmans?  You said they wanted to come see you and were going to bring you something."  

     Deirdre brightened a little.  “I could, couldn’t I?”

     “And then why don’t you come downstairs and sit with us?  You’ll feel better.  The doctor didn’t say you had to stay in bed.”

     “Okay,” Deirdre sniffed.  “I am getting tired of being up here all by myself.”

     Rivka was relieved.  She wouldn’t have to be alone in the kitchen with Pamela. 

     Pamela was scaring her. 

     Mike's Z4 convertible was parked at the curb.  They walked toward it, Mike’s hand on the small of Mary's back.  "You do like seafood don't you?"

     Mary nodded, and Mike opened the car door.  Mary surreptitiously ran her hand over the glossy green paint on the car's hood.  She'd never have anything like this now.  She'd blown it big time.  She could feel the pressure of tears against her eyelids.  

     The top was down, and the breeze ruffled Mary’s hair as they sped down Long Beach Island Boulevard.  Once, at a light, Mike took his hand off the gear shaft and put it on Mary’s knee.

     Mary stared at it.  He was wearing a school ring with a red stone.  Dark hairs curled up around the gold band.  She sat very still until the light changed, and he moved his hand back to the gear knob.

     The restaurant wasn’t on the water as Mary had expected but rather several blocks inland in a square building with small windows.

     Inside it was dark and what she supposed would be called “intimate”.  A hostess wearing red lipstick and a low-cut black dress led them to a table toward the back of the room.

     Mary slid into the wine colored velvet banquette, and Mike slipped in after her.  The waitress made a point of bending forward to hand Mike his menu, and Mary noticed the way he looked at her.  She supposed he was an attractive man even if he was at least forty.   

     “How about a drink?”  Mike turned to her when the waitress left.  “Some champagne, maybe?”
     “Sure.”  Mary pretended to be engrossed in the menu.  It was hard to see.  The lighting was dim, and the miniature lamps on each table cast very little light.

     Mike slid the menu from Mary’s hands.

     “But I don’t know what I want yet.”

     “Lobster.  You’re having lobster.”  Mike made a mock horrified face.  “You do like lobster don’t you?”

     “I don’t know.  I’ve never had it.”

     “You’ll love it.” 

     Mary took a sip of her water.  "When is my court date?"  She'd been thinking about it obsessively since Mike mentioned it earlier in the evening.

     Mike put a finger to her lips.  "Let's eat first and then we can talk business.  But I don't want you worrying about it.  Everything is going to be fine."

     Mary really wanted to believe him.  "Thanks for helping me with…everything, Mr. Ruffelo."

     "Please.  Call me Mike."  He ran his finger slowly down the inside of Mary's bare arm.  "I could never leave a beautiful girl like you in distress."     

Fortunately the waitress arrived with their drinks.  Mary inched as far away as she could under the guise of straightening her skirt.

     The waitress put a flute of champagne in front of Mary, and a glass with ice in it in front of Mike.  She poured a measure of scotch into Mike's glass from a miniature beaker and then added a splash of water from a pitcher.  Mike was quiet until she left.

     "What plans do you have for the future, Mary?"  He swished his drink around in his glass.  "College?"

     It was weird, but somehow or other, adults always got around to asking about school, Mary thought as she took a sip of her champagne. 

     "I wanted to go to college." 

     "Wanted?  You've changed your mind?"  He fiddled with the swizzle stick in his drink.  "Deirdre tells me you're smart.  It would be a shame not to get an education.  It's the only way to get ahead these days.  I went to law school at night while I sold vacuum cleaners during the day.  It was a struggle, but it was worth it."  He waved a hand around. "Now, I can do pretty much whatever I want."

     "How am I going to get into college now that I have a..a..record."

     Mike laughed.  "I don’t think it's going to come to that!  It was a youthful prank."

     "You don't?"

     He shook his head. "I know Judge Lemmen. I'm sure we can work something out."

     The waitress reappeared with a giant tray loaded with plates, balanced on her shoulder.  She selected one.

     "Blue cheese dressing?"

     "That's mine."  Mike moved his drink to one side.

     Mary moved her champagne glass out of the way, too.  She'd drunk almost all of it already.  She hadn't meant to drink anything at all. 

     "Have you given any thought to scholarships?"  Mike ground some pepper over his salad.

     "That's pretty much all I've thought about."

     "My fraternity, Psi Epsilon, offers one every other year.  This year is the year.  Sometimes we go begging for applicants."  He took a bite of his salad.  "You should apply.  I'm on the selection committee. I can pretty much guarantee you'll get it."

     "How…how much is it?"  Mary asked. Her heart was beating hard.  The dream she had given up on was coming back to life in front of her eyes.

     "Five thousand."  He laughed.  "Oh, I know it's not much compared to the cost of tuition these days, but it's a start."

     It was more than Mary had dared to hope.  And if she were still in the running for the Miller Foundation scholarship, she might be able to pull it off.  She could work almost fulltime if she arranged her classes right.  She felt her hopes lift a little.

     The waitress placed a plate with a lobster sprawled on it in front of Mary.  She looked at it in dismay.

     Mike burst out laughing.  "Don't worry," he tied the bib the waitress had given them around his neck. "I'll show you how to eat it."

     The lobster was delicious.  Mary knew she had melted butter on her chin, but she didn't care.  

     Mike ordered a bottle of white wine to go with the lobster.  Mary was still warm from the sun, and the wine was cold.  She drank a lot more than she intended.

     Even the coffee Mike ordered with dessert didn't dampen her giddy mood.  She leaned against Mike slightly as they left the restaurant and walked toward the parking lot.

     They got into Mike's car, and Mike put the key in the ignition.  He didn't turn it on but turned toward Mary instead. 

Drunk from the wine and thoughts of the five thousand dollar scholarship, Mary didn't stop him when he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Chapter 16

     The wind was picking up.  Rivka could hear the metal forks and tongs hanging from the barbecue grill on the deck clanging together.  The sound was getting on her nerves which were already stretched nearly to the breaking point.  Pamela was banging around in the kitchen, and she and Deirdre were huddled together in the family room.  Pamela wouldn’t let them turn on the television, and the only things to read were some glossy issues of Architectural Digest that didn’t interest her at all although Deirdre was gamely thumbing through one of them.

     The barbecue implements clanged again, and Rivka jumped to her feet.  She’d bring them in and then at least they wouldn’t have to listen to that annoying noise.

     She slid the door to the deck open.  The wind immediately pressed against her face, suffocating her.  She yanked the hair out of her eyes and closed the door in back of her.  Lightening zigzagged across the sky, and she jumped.  Fat blobs of rain splattered on the deck leaving spots that looked like stains.  Rivka grabbed the tongs from the side of the grill then stopped.  She thought she heard something over the roar of the wind.  A whistle, maybe.

     A bolt of lightening momentarily lit the horizon, and Rivka quickly grabbed the other implements.  She was about to open the door when she heard the sound again. Definitely a whistle.

     She peered over the side of the deck.  Lance was half-hidden by the tall, waving grasses growing alongside.

     “Hey.”  He grinned.  "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry, but you didn't answer your cell phone so here I am.  I was going to tap on the window to try to get your attention when you opened the door.  I couldn't believe my luck!" 

     Rivka grinned back.  "I left my phone upstairs.  Sorry."

     She put the tongs and forks down on the umbrella table and slid off the side of the deck into Lance’s waiting arms.

     He kissed her hungrily.  “I acted like a jerk.  Are you mad at me?”

     Rivka didn’t answer.  She was pretty sure her kiss was answer enough.  Rain was falling more steadily, but she hardly noticed.

     Lance’s kisses felt so good and so right.  She moaned softly, then twisted her lips away from his.  “Next time, I won’t be such a baby.”

     Lance groaned.  “Maybe I can sneak inside?  We could go upstairs.  Who cares if Pamela sees us."

     Rivka put a finger over his lips.  “Not now.  Pamela is in a very strange mood.  I’m scared.”

     Lance shook his head.  “Don’t pay any attention to Pammy.  She acts like such a jerk sometimes.”

     “When we get home, then we’ll—“

     “Promise?”  Lance lowered his lips to hers again. Rain was falling more steadily, and Rivka felt warm rivulets running down her back.

     “I’ve got to go back in.  They’re going to wonder what happened to me.”

     Lance held her tighter.  “I wish we could go somewhere…”  He nuzzled her neck.

     Rivka wriggled free.  “Soon.  We will. I promise.”

     She kissed her finger then pressed her finger to Lance’s lips.  She hoisted herself back onto the deck and stood looking down at him for a moment.  His upraised face was streaming with rain, and his hair clung to his head.

     She turned away, but he grabbed her ankle. 

     “Becky?”

     “Yes?”

     “I love you.”

     Rivka’s heart stopped mid-beat then started again with a series of fluttery throbs.  “I love you, too,” she whispered. 

     Mary ran up the stairs and into the bathroom before anyone could stop her.  She turned on the hot water, flung off her clothes and jumped into the shower.  She stood there shivering, hugging her arms to her chest, as the water pelted her.  Finally, she picked up the soap and scrubbed and scrubbed as if she wanted to wash away her own skin.

     She couldn’t believe she had let Mike touch her like that.  She couldn’t believe anything about herself anymore.  She was a thief.  She’d stolen money—something she had known was wrong since before she started kindergarten.  And this thing with Mike.  She shivered even though the water was turned to hot.  She’d only done it because of the scholarship he had dangled in front of her greedy face.  But he was Deirdre’s
father
.

     She was disgusting. She didn’t deserve to go to college.  She didn’t deserve to get ahead.  She was going to rot behind the counter at Sobeleski’s news stand.  She’d be there when everyone came back after graduating from college.  She’d be there for their tenth high school reunion. She’d probably still be there for their twenty-fifth!

     The water washed her tears down the drain almost as quickly as they fell.

     Rivka heard Mary come in and run up the stairs.  She wanted to ask her if everything was okay, but Mary slammed the bathroom door shut.

     Rivka stood outside the bathroom and looked at the closed door.  She didn’t want to go back to the living room.  She wanted to be alone where she could think about Lance and hear him say those magic words over and over.   She knew she was grinning—she could feel her lips being pulled into a stupid smile.  Pamela would guess something was up, and she wouldn’t let go until she found out what it was.

     Suddenly Rivka didn’t care anymore.  Screw Pamela and all her bullshit!  Lance loved her and she loved him, and that was all that mattered.  Rivka felt a rush of heat to her cheeks.  She’d put up with Pamela long enough. She didn’t care if she fit in—not anymore.  She hated Pamela!  Besides, Lance liked her just the way she was.   Correction.  Lance
loved
her just the way she was!

     Rivka stuck her chin in the air.  Just let Pamela try and mess with her tonight.

     She’d tell them all what she knew!  The thought stopped Rivka midway down the steps. 

     But she couldn’t.  She’d promised her mother. She couldn’t let her mother down.  And Aunt Ruth and Bubbeh and Zayde.

     Not unless Pamela made her do it.

     Mary looked like she'd been crying, Pamela noticed as they all took seats in the living room.  Thunder grumbled in the distance and flashes of lightening zigzagged across the windows. 

     And Rivka had a funny look on her face.  Pamela couldn’t quite decipher it, but it made her nervous.  Rivka looked almost…defiant. 

     Pamela felt her insides knot, and suddenly she felt like puking.  She stared into her cup.  She wanted to wipe that smug expression off Rivka's face.  The little bitch!  Who did she think she was?