Slow Dancing (3 page)

“Let’s take a look,” he said. Just then, Ellen looked up at him and with her free hand, grabbed his.

“Dada,” she said. Margaret burst out laughing. Frank stopped in his tracks and looked down at the little girl, clearly moved.

“Oh, sorry! Pay no attention. She’s at the age where every man is daddy,” Margaret said, chuckling. And then under her breath, “I’m not married to her father.” A raise of her eyebrows and a grin said it all. She wasn’t
married to
anyone
. Frank, not used to being flirted with and ignorant of the ways of women, took the little girl’s hand, sure his face was red.

“This yers?” he said, nodding his head toward the car and she said
yes
. “Better stay up on the sidewalk now.” Gently withdrawing his hand from Ellen’s and giving it to Margaret, he reached over and popped the hood. He looked it over, but couldn’t see anything obvious.

“Why not go get something to drink at the café and I’ll pull it into the shop to take a closer look.” She agreed and walked away from him after giving her car keys over. She made sure she walked with just a hint of wiggle, and turned slightly to see if he was watching her. But he was already on the phone, calling Paul’s Auto Supply asking for help to push the Buick into the shop. Margaret wasn’t used to being ignored; she got plenty of attention from men, so his disinterest fired something within her that would help keep her in the small town for longer than she expected, Galveston put on hold. She would call Alan and let him know there had been a delay. She was going to be stuck in Seymour for a day or two.

She still wasn’t sure how she happened to get there; it was far off the path she was taking, a wrong turn in Mobile probably. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get some breakfast,” she said to Ellen, who was tired and ready for a nap. Picking her up, Ellen put her head down on her mother’s shoulder and fell asleep quickly. No doubt tired from the previous night after pulling over to the side of the road when she’d realized she was lost, they slept in the car with doors locked. In the morning, she drove to a gas station to use the ladies room and get a wash up. Now she had no idea where she was, exhausted with a broken down car. But Margaret never got disheartened. It was her nature to look to at the bright side of everything. When she sat down, the sleeping Ellen slid down to her lap, Margaret cradling her with an arm while she drank coffee and ate eggs and toast. She’d ordered an egg sandwich for Ellen to eat when she woke up. The waitress, a young woman named Mary, was a talker.

“You just get into town?” she asked. When Margaret explained what happened with the car, the woman launched into Frank’s history, he was a bachelor all the single women in town had eyes for, but he wasn’t interested. No one said out loud that he might be a homosexual, although some of the women wondered secretly. “In high school, he dated the same girl till he left for college.” Margaret frowned, where she came from it was inappropriate to guess about someone’s sexuality. Either you were, or you weren’t. Maybe, hopefully, he wasn’t.

“He’s got his own little place down by the river, a real gem of a piece of property, and he owns that building the garage is in. You see how he looks; we women around these parts wait all summer for Frank to take his shirt off and work in his t-shirt. It raises the temperature a few degrees, let me tell you.” Margaret looked out the window, across the street to the garage. The door opened to the bay and she could see the back of her car but not the activity.

“How old is he?” Margaret asked Mary, now more than curious.

“He graduated high school the year I started. So he must be about thirty,” she said, sideling up to Margaret. “Don’t you think he’s dreamy?”

“I haven’t given it much thought,” Margaret said, thinking about nothing else but the handsome business owner with his own house on the river. “What’s the rent like in town?” She finished breakfast just as Ellen stirred.

“Not bad. You lookin’ to stay?” Mary said, interested. Margaret shrugged her shoulders, not willing to reveal anything about her history or motives to a stranger, not even knowing herself what the next hour would bring.

“Let’s find a ladies room, okay sweetheart?” Mary pointed to the back of the café. Margaret and Ellen walked between the tables, diners curious about her, the men glancing up at her face after taking in her figure and she didn’t miss their interest.

While in the bathroom, she dug out her wallet from her purse and counted cash. She had exactly fifteen hundred dollars. It was her savings from her secretary job, enough to get her and Ellen to Galveston and have a little nest egg in case it didn’t work out with Alan, or if he didn’t have money for her after all and she needed to move on or get back to Saint Augustine. Now this darn car thing; hopefully it wouldn’t cost too much to fix. She looked in the mirror and reapplied her lipstick, then washed up Ellen’s hands and face.

“Let’s go sweetheart. Let’s see if that car of ours is going to get us out of town today.” They left the restaurant waving to a disappointed Mary, and crossed the street. She walked through the bay door of the garage and saw Frank standing over the engine compartment with a tool in his hand.

“Hi,” he said. “It’s gonna to take me longer than today to fix this. You gotta place to stay tonight?” She shook her head.

“No. I don’t even know where I am. We got lost back at the river.” He nodded his head. People were known to take a wrong turn in Mobile, ending up in town as a result.

“Mary over at the café rents out rooms in her house. You want I call her for you?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll go back and ask her myself. We were just talking, her and me,” Margaret said.

“Come back in an hour. I should have a better idea how long it’s gonna take by then.” She nodded at him, finally catching his eye. He’d looked at her beautiful face and huge blue eyes, auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. She saw the admiration in his eyes and smiled back, giving him the approval he needed to keep looking.

“Okay, bye for now,” she said.

Ellen waved. “Bye bye, dada.”

Frank chuckled and waved to her. “Good bye.”

Margaret walked back across the street to the café. It was past breakfast and the space had cleared out. Mary was wiping down a table when she looked up as Margaret came back, and couldn’t help but smile.

“Frank tells me you might rent a room for the night. Looks like my old car is going to take longer than we thought to repair.”

“Yes! I’m the only place to lay your head in Seymour. I have a crib, too,” she said, suppressing her excitement that Margaret and Ellen were going to stay. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a key and a card with an address on it. “That’s my only key, so hold tight to it. Go on over now if you want. You both look tired. Your room is right off the living room. The one with the crib. You can freshen up and have a rest. It’s right down that street, to the left.” She pointed to the street next to the beauty parlor. Five oh five First.”

“Thank you so much,” Margaret said. The thought of a cool place to sit with her child was heavenly. Taking the card, they left the café again and proceeded down the street. It occurred to her that Mary was pretty dumb to hand a house key over to a stranger. What if she was a burglar? The lock was stubborn, but she got it open, and the cool air inside rushed out at them. When they went inside the house, she understood why she’d hand over a key; it really
was
a rooming house with no personal objects around or anything of value that could be stolen. It made Margaret feel better for some reason. It appeared Mary didn’t have much more than she did.

“House?” Ellen asked, and Margaret confirmed it. “
House.”

“Let’s walk back to the garage and get our suitcase,” Margaret said. Frank was standing in front of the auto parts store talking to the owner Paul, when he saw her walking towards him and the sight of her rendered him speechless for a moment.

“I need my suitcase,” she said demurely, looking up into his eyes.

“Suitcase,” Ellen repeated. They laughed, walking back to the garage. Frank opened the trunk of her car so she could get a bag out, and feeling its weight, offer to carry it back to Mary’s for her.

They didn’t talk as they walked side by side, Margaret carrying Ellen on her hip. But if they had admitted what they were thinking they’d have been surprised that it was similar thoughts. Margaret imagined the kind of couple they made; people would take notice. Frank thought of the empty cottage he’d recently moved to, filled with a ready-made family. They arrived at Mary’s but he didn’t linger explaining he had to get back because he’d left the shop open. It was that kind of town; you could leave your business wide open and it would be safe.

The rest of the day Margaret and Ellen spent dozing, playing and chatting. At three, Mary came home with a bag of sandwiches for their dinner. A door at the back of the living room lead to her personal apartment, and Margaret was happy to see that Mary’s space wasn’t quite so Spartan after all.

“I’ll charge you seven dollars a day. No food allowed in the rooms because of bugs, but you can have space in the kitchen. You can use my washer and dryer ‘cause of the little one. Does that sound like a deal?” She was willing to let them stay with her free of charge if it would mean having Margaret close by. Margaret nodded and smiled; it was more than fair.

“What do I owe you for dinner?” Margaret asked.

“It’s on the house,” Mary said. “I can bring home food from the café from time to time if there are leftovers that won’t keep for the next day. If you’re going to be here for a few days, I’ll bring something home each afternoon if you want me to, should save you on your food bill.”

“Okay, thank you.” She didn’t think it would take longer than the next day to fix her car, but it was better to have something lined up, just in case. A knock at the door brought Mary to her feet; she rarely had guests but when it rained, it poured. Surprisingly, it was Frank.

“Hey there, Frankie,” Mary said. Frank grimaced at the use of the name, but good naturedly, as Mary stepped aside to let him pass by.

“Can I talk to Margaret?” Mary waved him on.

“Follow me; we’re back in the kitchen.” His eyes visibly brightened up when he saw Margaret and Ellen. Ellen was standing at a chair running the bowl of a spoon back and forth, like it was a car. He chuckled, the sight of the little girl making him happy for some reason.

“She likes cars, eh?” he asked.

“I didn’t bring enough toys for her, obviously,” Margaret said.

“Your car should be ready tomorrow afternoon. Sorry it’s takin’ me so long to get a part. I have to wait for delivery tomorrow.”

“I get it,” she said. “It’s no problem at all.”

“Have a seat, Frankie,” Mary said. “Have dinner with us. Just leftovers from the café.”

“Okay, it sounds better than what I was gonna have, that’s for sure.” The women waited for him to tell them what it was. “A can of Pork and Beans.”

“Ew!” They cried in unison, laughing. “You better eat with us.” They chatted until the sun came around to the other side of the house, taking turns holding Ellen, sharing stories. Margaret asked questions, getting the others to talk about themselves.

“It’s about time for this young lady to go to bed,” Margaret said, reaching for Ellen who was rubbing her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me?” Frank stood up and nodded at her. Mary was excited that she had Frank McPherson in her house, but it looked like he was going to go now that Margaret was going to her room.

“I better get back to the garage and lock up,” he said. “If there’s anything left to protect.” He was teasing, of course, the whole town in the habit of leaving things open, trusting, helping. It was just the nature of things. “Thanks for the coffee and sandwich, Mary.” She followed him to the door.

“You don’t need to leave,” she whispered, giving a last effort to engage him. But he wasn’t interested. She thought for a moment that there was a glimmer of something, but it must have been for Margaret’s benefit. He smiled down at her.

“I better get goin’, Mary, but thanks. And thanks for taking her in for the night.” He was a nice guy, just not interested in
her
. She locked the door after him. It was early; she’d fix her hair and go out for the evening, hopeful she’d find someone who
was
interested.

Chapter 3

The next day, the part needed to repair Margaret’s car didn’t arrive at Paul’s as expected. It was coming from Dallas, so he couldn’t hop in his car and fetch it as he could if it were coming from Mobile. Frank walked over to Mary’s house and knocked on the door. This time, Margaret answered. She was still in her nightgown, and without meaning to, against his will, looking at her aroused him. The gown was of a soft, gauzy fabric, virginal and feminine. The way the fabric swirled around her curves, his imagination took flight. He looked away.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “The part I need didn’t arrive as we expected it would. Won’t be here now until Monday. Don’t blame you none if you’re angry.” She looked down at her hands. A weekend here in this village with kind Mary and handsome Frank wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Have coffee with me,” she said. “I’ll be fine right here at Mary’s place.” He looked at his watch.

“I’m supposed to open up at nine. I’ll make a call.” He went to Mary’s phone, a yellow Princess model with a rotary dial hanging from the wall. He dialed the number of the post office.

“Jessie,” he said when she answered. “Can you do me a favor and put a note on my door that the garage will open today at nine-thirty?” She agreed to do it, so Frank could have coffee with his new friend.

“So yesterday I talked all afternoon about myself. Now you tell me about you,” he said, smiling.

Margaret was a good storyteller. “There’s not much to tell,” she lied. “I work in an office back in Florida. But I needed a break, so we’re headed to Texas to see a friend. It won’t kill me if I alter my plans a little.”

“We’re you born in Florida?”

“Yes, Saint Augustine. The only family I have is an aunt and my brother Peter who is in an asylum there.”