Chapter 8
At first, taking the gifts from men was a kind of a game for Deedee. She realized, of course, that it was wrong. She even sensed where it might lead if she didn't play the game with great care.
She'd managed to get through her first year at Blue Harbour and take care of little Maria, but only by the most arduous scheduling of both time and money. Her entire life had become wrapped in the gray threads of duty. There was, first of all, her duty to her child. Then, her duty to herself, the duty to keep her promise to herself. There was the duty of her obligation to the grown Maria, without whose help the entire situation would have been impossible. Even the plans and dreams for the future were surrounded by this haze of grim duty.
So, when she began her new game, it seemed an almost harmless method of escape from her duty-bound world. As such it held more than a small amount of charm for her. Not only did it ease the desperate financial situation, but it was also fun guessing how far she could push the men. It was fun to meet a new man, to arouse his interest in her, and then to try for the jackpot-gift-wise that was. She began to learn just how far she'd have to go to increase the value of the gift, even one tiny notch. She learned quickly that these tiny notches frequently meant the difference between a gift that was "hockable" and one that was "non-hockable." So, Deedee played the game and enjoyed herself. She'd been playing it for several months, several times each week, and so far she remained the winner. She'd never had to go all the way.
And the tens, twenties and fifties she picked up at the pawnshop bought a lot of books, paid a lot of rent, and put some darling clothes on her daughter's soft back.
It was a soft spring day, when she met the man who was to be her biggest pigeon. He was, as it happened, a friend of a friend of hers. Fortyish, immensely wealthy, and just beginning to realize that his youth had passed him by. From Chicago, he'd come to Los Angeles for a business meeting, and had driven out to Blue Harbour to visit the son of one of his executives. He'd been bored with the idea of the visit but was unable to come up with a suitable excuse for not making it. As the older man and the college student stood beside the rent-a-car Lincoln, Deedee swung up the path on her way to the library. Ralph Colman one of the few male friends she'd made on campus, called out a cheery greeting as his father's friend stared in open-mouthed appreciation of the young coed.
"They certainly didn't look like that when I was in school," Jim Bradley spoke admiringly. "Who is she, Ralph? A friend of yours, I hope."
"Deedee Ryan, Mister Bradley, a swell gal. And if you mean 'buddy' when you say 'friend,' you're right. She's a real gas."
"Well, now. Aren't you going to introduce your dad's boss to the young lady? It's been a long time since I've had a chance to talk with anything that gorgeous."
"You asked for it, Mister B," Ralph replied, half serious, half mocking. "Hey, Irish!" he hollered, knowing she would reply in kind. She did.
Bradley hadn't planned on any extracurricular activities during his business trip, but five minutes of conversation with Deedee Ryan changed all of that. She hit his already oversized ego with all the impact of a wounded rhino on the attack. He realized he might be making a fool of himself in front of Ralph Colman, but was completely unable to refrain from so doing.
"You two kids must be ready for a break in the old grind, no?" he asked by way of leading up to a dinner-invitation. "What do you say you take a night off from all this studying and join me in L. A. for dinner? We'll hit one of the better places. Say, Perino's?" He issued the invitation to both students. Both of them knew he meant it for just the girl.
"I think Deedee should accept, Mr. Bradley. She's the kid that does all the boning up on this campus. Me, I've got a date with my roommate's girl friend's girl friend. You know how it is?"
"Would you care to join me ... Deedee?" the older man asked, his relief at Ralph's obvious excuse quite evident.
This old cat, Deedee was thinking to herself, could be good for half of next year's tuition-if I play it right. She smiled up at the fatuous middle-aged man, and accepted his dinner bid. "It sounds like a ball. And I'd love to get away from the grind for a night." Yes ma'am, she added silently. We'll have a ball, but it's going to cost him plenty! "Pick me up at my place, about sevenish?" She gave him her address and a brief set of instructions as to how to reach the place. Then, waving merrily, and with a glance of promise toward Bradley, she continued up the path toward the library.
Jim rang her bell promptly at seven. Maria answered, invited him in and introduced herself and the baby. Deedee wasn't quite ready. While he waited, Jim was filled in on her background. The oft-told tale of Deedee's widowhood, by now embellished with all sorts of little niceties through its months of development, served to build within him a sense of sympathy and pity for the girls. It had been planned for just that purpose.
Deedee looked like a dream when she came into the living room-red curls pulled back into an impudent little ponytail, tied with an equally impudent green bow; her lithe young body encased in a dinner dress of sea green, which managed to accentuate each curve without being too obvious about it; eyes dancing in anticipation. Jim Bradley soaked in her beauty and said a silent prayer of thanks to the executive who had insisted upon his visit to Blue Harbour.
They dined at Perino's, and Jim was aware of the envious eyes upon him as almost every man in the room drank in the loveliness of his dinner partner. He'd called and ordered their dinner in advance, but even the superb cosmopolitan cuisine couldn't take his thoughts off of Deedee. For all his appreciation of the many subtle tastes, he might as well have ordered chili and beans. Deedee was fully aware of her effect upon him, and delighted in playing her flirtatious game.
Now she leaned forward to accept a light for her cigarette, soft breast brushing casually against his sleeve. Then she withdrew, a warm blush flowing across her face, making it quite obvious to the stunned victim of her attentions that she had realized the small intimacy. By the time their after-dinner brandies were served, Jim Bradley was hooked.
As they left the swank restaurant, Deedee suggested they take a short walk before the attendant delivered the car. The weather, she added, was so lovely, the breeze, almost like a caress. Her words were chosen carefully, and had the intended effect. The area was loaded with expensive shops, and Deedee would stop to gaze into their display windows, wide-eyed at the beauty and cost of their contents. She, seemingly, failed to notice Jim's reaction to the awe she showed at a lovely silver-mink stole, draped carelessly over a marble table in one of the windows. She'd said nothing about it. Poor girl, Jim thought to himself. She's probably never known the touch of fur.
They turned back to Perino's to get the car. As they drove out Wilshire Boulevard, Jim decided to risk the all-important question. It's too soon, I know, he argued with himself, but I can't help myself. All she can do is say "no."
"I'm expecting a rather important long-distance call, Deedee. Would you mind stopping by the hotel with me while I take it?" He glanced sideways at her, amazed at the importance her answer held for him. "We could have a drink in my suite. If, of course, you don't object?" He waited, with bated breath, for her reply.
"But, why should I object, Jim? After all, the days of the spider and the fly bit are long gone." She turned toward him, a teasing smile upon her lips. "I'm quite sure your intentions are-what is the colloquial phrase?-honorable." She reached over and patted his hand as she spoke. He almost side-swiped a parked car.
In the hotel room, Jim poured two fairly stiff glasses of brandy and, handing one of them to Deedee, picked up the phone to tell the operator he was in his room if a long-distance call came in. He was not, he added, to be disturbed for a local call. He hung up the phone and started to sit beside Deedee. Something made him change his mind, and he began to pace the floor instead.
Gradually, he began to talk to her. Without knowing why, he began to tell her about the kind of life he'd known as a child and his growth into manhood. How he'd struck out on his own and almost immediately begun to make more money than he knew what to do with. He told her about the unhappy marriage of his parents-a father who came and went as he pleased and who always had more than enough women on the side; a mother who had steadfastly refused a divorce but became more and more bitter, until there wasn't even any sweetness or love left for her son. He told her of the many women in his life, and he told her of his marriage. How much hope, how many dreams he'd put into it, all in vain. All of a sudden he seemed to wind down as quickly as he'd wound up in the beginning. He finally sat on the couch beside Deedee. Taking her soft hand in his, he looked soberly into her eyes.
"Deedee, I think, perhaps, I'm falling in love with you. I'm not sure, but I think I am. I know that when I asked you to come up here with me, I didn't actually have 'honorable' intentions. But you seem so young, so trusting. I need you desperately, but I can't take advantage of you, darling."
Deedee didn't actually hear all of his words. This was a turn she hadn't expected, and her main thought at the moment was that it was a turn which could cost her an expensive gift if she left it stand.
She moved closer to Jim and opened her arms. He went into them. Nothing could have kept him back. Their first kiss was a short one, but it burned a searing scar across his face. It was, he thought, almost as though they were meant to be part of one another. She raised her face for a second kiss, almost melting against him. They set one another on fire. He drew her closer into his arms, his hands searching restlessly, her fingertips caressing him frantically.
For Deedee, it ceased to be a game. Suddenly she remembered the glory and wild passion she'd known with Pat. Suddenly she realized how long she'd been alone. She'd started out to tease Jim Bradley into buying her a gift. Now, she wanted him. She needed to be possessed, completely and fiercely. Her loins ached with desire. Her needs communicated themselves to Jim, and he picked her up, carrying her blindly toward the large bed.
She helped him disrobe her, hands fumbling at the restraining hooks and zippers. He gasped in agony as her full breasts burst from the bond of the sea green dress, pink nipples swollen in anticipation of his lips. He answered their greedy call, and heard, as though from a great distance, the sobbing moans of passion issuing from Deedee's feverish lips. As she opened to receive him, Jim felt a tidal wave of emotion engulf him. The pent-up frustrations of Deedee flowed outward and covered the man. With no other woman had he known such beauty.
He didn't realize the passion was not for him, that it was compounded as much of hidden fears, unfulfilled desires of long duration, and a kind of play-acting in which he was not Jim Bradley, but a remembered lover. He lost himself with Deedee. He found himself with her. He called upon unknown fountains of strength to give her all she demanded. And when they reached the ultimate goal, he fell back in complete masculine exhaustion. Deedee lay in his arms, fulfilled, replete, yet strangely near tears.
They didn't speak a word for many minutes. Then Jim removed his arms from her precious body, got up and lit a cigarette for each of them. As he handed one to her, he tried to tell her how he felt. Deedee hushed him, taking a long drag on her cigarette and staring blindly at the ceiling. She jammed the still-long cigarette into the ash tray on the end table beside the bed and, without a word, stood up and walked into the bathroom. Jim laid back with deep contentment as he listened to the sounds of the rushing water. If only, he thought, he'd known Deedee earlier. Then he remembered the expression in her eyes as she stared at the mink stole in the window. And he recalled the sad tale of woe Maria had told him earlier as he waited for his beautiful "dinner date."
Getting up quickly from the bed, he went to the chair that held his crumpled trousers. Taking out his wallet, he extracted two fifty-dollar bills. Folding them carefully, he walked across the room to the coffee table, picked up Deedee's purse and tucked the money securely down in the satin-lined compartment meant to hold a mirror.
Deedee didn't find it until the next morning. By then, she'd already received the silver mink and Jim's note. It wasn't, she told herself, that I did it for money. But I can't say I'm sorry I picked on a rich man.
Deedee was on her way.