Free Apple Brown Betty by Phillip Thomas Duck Page B

it in her eyes. I looked in yours and all I could gather was a twinge of regret. Yet, you took her home with you.” Desmond’s gaze shifted to his feet. Karen softened her voice. “I think very highly of you, Desmond. I have no qualms about admitting that my husband is less than perfect and that I sometimes think about…” Her voice dissipated as Desmond looked up again. “Sometimes I think about how different my life would be if I had married someone with a stronger purpose, someone like you. In many ways, me coming to work, flirting with you, makes going home more bearable.”
    â€œI didn’t know your marriage—”
    She shook him off. “I hate to think that the man I think so highly of would cause the kind of harm that I know you’ve caused that Nora woman. You were the typical guy when you took her home that night, and I like to think that you aren’t typical.”
    Desmond eyed her, his expression serious. “I try not to be.”
    â€œHave you ever been in love?” Karen asked him.
    â€œI don’t even like to think about that question,” Desmond said. He shifted his weight from left leg to right, wrung his hands.
    â€œToo many of our men have that same problem,” Karen said sadly. “And too many of our women suffer because of it. It’ll hit you one day, Desmond. When it does, do what feels right in your heart—because I know you have a good heart—and you’ll never go wrong.”
    â€œThe talk shows condemn thinking with just your heart,” Desmond said. “Sometimes you have to use your head.”
    â€œWhat you have to do is make sure your heart and mind are on one accord, that they’re both clear—like they say at the end of church service. In your heart you knew you would never marry Nora, I bet. I also would wager my salary—” she smiled to let him know she meant figuratively “—that you knew it in your mind before you even proposed.”
    Desmond nodded. Karen was alright. Where was she when he was growing up?
    Â 
    â€œTurn left up here,” Cydney said.
    Stephon put on his blinker, made the turn, slowed about halfway up the block. “Goodness!”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œI’d heard horror stories about Asbury Park, but this is incredible. Who would dare open up a business around here? Nothing but junkies, dealers, whores and burnt-out buildings.”
    Cydney said nothing. By condemning the city, Stephon was condemning her. The harshness of his tone, the disgust in his voice made leaving this married man alone a more doable task. She could just picture him with the same upturned nose, the same judgment in his voice, looking at her with disgust. But she’d never give him the opportunity; she’d never let him know that this city of nothing but junkies, dealers, whores and burnt-out buildings had spawned her.
    â€œYou believe this,” he continued as they passed a young girl with red boots up above her knees, a jean skirt with the hemline up above the top of the boots. “She’s peddling her ass in broad daylight.”
    â€œShe’s trying to survive,” Cydney shot back.
    Stephon smiled. “Well, that’s mighty Democratic of you, Cydney. The Republicans will be very upset to have lost you, but they’ll recover. I suppose you’d probably like me to offer that young lady a job, something in…customer service.” He chuckled. Cydney didn’t.
    Republican, was that how he saw her?
    â€œCush is up there on the right” was all Cydney could say.
    Stephon curbed his car, moved the transmission arm to Park, but sat with the engine running. “You think my car will be safe here?”
    Cydney shrugged. “We’ll see when we come back out.” She unbuckled her seat belt and waited for him to open her door. He didn’t seem certain of his next move. “Stephon, I’m waiting.”
    He came