ability at one time to start a lot of engines to humming," she said in a thoughtful voice as she resumed her seat. Chewing the skin around her pinky fingernail, her eyes met Emma's. "I'd forgotten all about that."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I forgot how handsome he was as a kid. Back when he was in high school." She shrugged. "I mean, I was already married and pregnant with Billy 'n' everything, but this town is small, and he was always a reliable source of entertainment. Fact is, with the face he had back then and that build and being so bad and all ... well, let's face it, Emma, that's a combination that's damn near irresistible to your average high-school girl. I bet most of 'em dreamed nightly of dropping their bloomers for that boy, and a high percentage of 'em probably would have, too, at the first encouraging word from him."
Emma grinned. "I'll bet he encouraged like mad." And good for you, kid, she thought, recalling the isolation that was imposed on him as an adult. I hope you got to screw your brains out.
"No, that's the funny thing. I think it was a rare event when he took anyone up on her offer."
"A high-school boy who willingly passes up the opportunity for sex?" Emma scoffed. "Get outta here."
"He was loaded with pride, even then," Ruby said. "That damn-your-eyes attitude I was talking about?" Her shoulders bunched and fell. "I think the so-called good girls were willing enough to have him roll 'em around under the covers. I imagine what they weren't willing was for him to come knocking at the door and tell daddy he was there to pick up Father's little Princess or Kitten or whoever-the-hell for that night's date."
"And so ... he denied himself?" Emma shivered. "Man. If he had that kind of control as a teenager, can you imagine what he'd be like in bed now?"
"Emma!"
"Well, I'm sorry, Ruby, but as I said, there's just somethin' about that man!"
"To each her own, I guess." Ruby shook her head. "Personally, I just don't see it."
Chapter 5
She should burn these damn tapes. Emma hit the eject button on the VCR, pulled the tape out, and put it back with the others in the bag on the shelf. Night after night, compulsive as any alcoholic presented with a full bottle, she found herself viewing the cursed things, and it wasn't healthy.
She knew it wasn't healthy. Yet, she couldn't seem to prevent the compulsion that drove her to watch them over and over and over again. She kept thinking if only she viewed them often enough, carefully enough, if only she could dissect them frame by frame if necessary, she would finally understand how she had failed to see that a man she had considered to be all that was gentle and good was in actuality a monster of depravity.
Then she could forgive herself for her blind and unquestioning faith in such a man.
Dear God, what a coil.
She could feel the walls closing in on her and looked around wildly. She desperately needed to breathe some fresh air. Going to the window she threw it open, and bracing her hands on the wide sill leaned out and inhaled, dragging the evening air deep into her lungs.
It wasn't enough. Bon Dieu, it simply wasn't enough. She had to get out of here, if only for a few minutes. Except— she glanced over at Gracie who slept, with her knees tucked under her and her bottom thrust up, in the middle of the bed—she couldn't leave her daughter unattended.
Minutes later she was knocking on the door of room G across the hall and down a couple from her own. When Elvis opened it and looked down at her inquiringly, she immediately reached out and grasped his bare forearm in both hands.
"Elvis, I'm jumpin' out of my skin," she told him with breathless earnestness, "and I think only you can help me out here."
He felt her nails digging into his skin, looked down and saw her—all flushed skin, imploring eyes, mussed hair, and gorgeous breasts rising and falling in agitation beneath a sapphire ballet top—and went very still beneath her hands.
"I know it's a
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I forgot how handsome he was as a kid. Back when he was in high school." She shrugged. "I mean, I was already married and pregnant with Billy 'n' everything, but this town is small, and he was always a reliable source of entertainment. Fact is, with the face he had back then and that build and being so bad and all ... well, let's face it, Emma, that's a combination that's damn near irresistible to your average high-school girl. I bet most of 'em dreamed nightly of dropping their bloomers for that boy, and a high percentage of 'em probably would have, too, at the first encouraging word from him."
Emma grinned. "I'll bet he encouraged like mad." And good for you, kid, she thought, recalling the isolation that was imposed on him as an adult. I hope you got to screw your brains out.
"No, that's the funny thing. I think it was a rare event when he took anyone up on her offer."
"A high-school boy who willingly passes up the opportunity for sex?" Emma scoffed. "Get outta here."
"He was loaded with pride, even then," Ruby said. "That damn-your-eyes attitude I was talking about?" Her shoulders bunched and fell. "I think the so-called good girls were willing enough to have him roll 'em around under the covers. I imagine what they weren't willing was for him to come knocking at the door and tell daddy he was there to pick up Father's little Princess or Kitten or whoever-the-hell for that night's date."
"And so ... he denied himself?" Emma shivered. "Man. If he had that kind of control as a teenager, can you imagine what he'd be like in bed now?"
"Emma!"
"Well, I'm sorry, Ruby, but as I said, there's just somethin' about that man!"
"To each her own, I guess." Ruby shook her head. "Personally, I just don't see it."
Chapter 5
She should burn these damn tapes. Emma hit the eject button on the VCR, pulled the tape out, and put it back with the others in the bag on the shelf. Night after night, compulsive as any alcoholic presented with a full bottle, she found herself viewing the cursed things, and it wasn't healthy.
She knew it wasn't healthy. Yet, she couldn't seem to prevent the compulsion that drove her to watch them over and over and over again. She kept thinking if only she viewed them often enough, carefully enough, if only she could dissect them frame by frame if necessary, she would finally understand how she had failed to see that a man she had considered to be all that was gentle and good was in actuality a monster of depravity.
Then she could forgive herself for her blind and unquestioning faith in such a man.
Dear God, what a coil.
She could feel the walls closing in on her and looked around wildly. She desperately needed to breathe some fresh air. Going to the window she threw it open, and bracing her hands on the wide sill leaned out and inhaled, dragging the evening air deep into her lungs.
It wasn't enough. Bon Dieu, it simply wasn't enough. She had to get out of here, if only for a few minutes. Except— she glanced over at Gracie who slept, with her knees tucked under her and her bottom thrust up, in the middle of the bed—she couldn't leave her daughter unattended.
Minutes later she was knocking on the door of room G across the hall and down a couple from her own. When Elvis opened it and looked down at her inquiringly, she immediately reached out and grasped his bare forearm in both hands.
"Elvis, I'm jumpin' out of my skin," she told him with breathless earnestness, "and I think only you can help me out here."
He felt her nails digging into his skin, looked down and saw her—all flushed skin, imploring eyes, mussed hair, and gorgeous breasts rising and falling in agitation beneath a sapphire ballet top—and went very still beneath her hands.
"I know it's a
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