Chapter 7
The next morning when Cindy awakened, Flo was up puttering about the kitchen. The sounds of eggs frying and the smell of hot coffee came floating through the apartment.
Cindy got up out of bed and stood for a moment in the window, watching the traffic scurry up the street in front of the building. Warm sunlight gleamed on white buildings and palm trees trembled in a breeze.
"Hello, there," Flo called from the kitchen. "How are you?"
"Fine," Cindy said. Actually her body was stiff and aching from what had happened the previous night.
Flo appeared in the doorway. "I've got to go to work," she said. "I'd take the day off, but it would be pushing my luck."
"That's okay," Cindy said, "I'll be all right."
Flo was dressed in a tight white blouse that showed off her huge breasts and a flaring skirt. She was wearing dark nylons on her curved legs and a pair of white low-heeled shoes. Her hair was arranged in blonde waves and she had a contented smile on her face.
"I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook, but I did fry us some eggs. Want some."
"Yes," Cindy said. "I'm starving."
"Good."
Flo went into the kitchen. Cindy thought of changing her clothing, but the possibility of Flo looking in on her suddenly made her feel ill at ease. She still hadn't thought much of their intimacy of the previous night and didn't want to analyze her feelings just then.
They sat at the kitchen table and ate. The eggs were scrambled hard and the coffee was too strong. Flo glanced at her watch and rose. "Got to run," she said, gulping at her coffee. "You just treat this as your home, Cindy."
"Do you have any idea where Rosalie is?"
"I told you I didn't," Flo said in obvious annoyance. Then her face softened and she bent to kiss Cindy, who averted her face slightly so the girl's lips would touch her cheek rather than her lips. "I'll be back around five o'clock."
"All right," Cindy said.
Flo hesitated, then turned and went out the front door. A moment later a car started outside and roared down the street. Cindy latched the front door and breathed a sigh of relief. It made her feel more secure now to know that she was alone and the door was locked so no one could get in or watch her. She took off her pajamas, went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water faucet in the tub. It was while she was looking around through the linen closet for a clean towel that she came across the objects.
There was a long rubber object with straps on it. Cindy giggled when she first saw it because it looked like alike and then she dropped it quickly, realizing suddenly that's what it was supposed to look like.
The other object was not nearly so exotic. It was an address book. Without hesitation she opened the book, flipped through it to the W's, until she found the entry that read "Rosalie West," followed by a phone number. She found a pencil and a piece of paper and wrote down the number, then looked through the address book for other names she might recognize. Her mother's name was not listed. There was another fact about the book that didn't surprise her. All of the people listed were women!
Excitedly, she went to the phone and dialed a number. Miles away a phone rang, then clicked and a female voice said, "Hello."
"Rosalie?" Cindy said.
"Yes," the female voice admitted, "but ... it can't be...."
"It's Cindy. Cindy Drucker."
"Cindy!" Rosalie said. "How are you. How are things in Hurley? I meant to write to tell you all the news, but...."
"I'm not much at writing letters either," Cindy admitted. "I ran away from home, Rosalie, I arrived in Miami last night."
"Golly, Cindy, this is great. We can get together, just like old times. It's a good thing you left your stepfather, That was a bad scene. Where are you staying?"
"I stayed with Flo Stanley last night, but ... but I think I'd better leave as soon as I can."
"I know what you mean," Rosalie said sympathetically. "As soon as I got there, she had some guy from next door come over and try to rape me, just so she could make up to me afterwards. She didn't try anything like that with you, did she?"
Cindy felt her cheeks burn with sudden embarrassment. "No," she said.
"Look, Cindy, I'd pick you up, but Johnny takes the car to work...."
"Johnny?"
"I'm married now, didn't I tell you? Got one child with another on the way. How's that for being domestic?"
"I'm very happy for you, Rosalie, Cindy said seriously, "We can talk when you get here. Take a taxi and I'll pay for it."
"I only have one suitcase. I could take a bus."
"All right." Rosalie told her how to get to her house. "It's near Biscayne Park. You can't miss it. It'll be good to see you again, Cindy."
"It'll be good to see you again, too, Rosalie." She hesitated. "Do you know where my mother is staying out here?"
It was Rosalie's turn to hesitate. "We can talk when you get here. Okay?"
"Okay," Cindy said.
She hung up, puzzled. Why didn't Rosalie want to talk about Mamie Drucker?
She repacked her suitcase, put on a fresh blouse and skirt and low heels. She left a note for Flo thanking her for everything, then left, making sure the door was locked behind her.
The sun was very warm and bright as Cindy walked down to the main street searching for the bus stop Rosalie had told her about. She found it and sat down to wait.
She tried to lose her thoughts in the traffic that scurried past, but inevitably her thoughts turned to what had hapepned last night. First there was that terrible man who apparently had been put up to what he had done by Flo, and there had been Flo herself, consoling, touching her tenderly, caressing, massaging, becoming more and more intimate-
Cindy thrust the thoughts from her mind and turned her attention to wondering again why Rosalie had been reluctant to discuss Mamie Drucker. Apparently the girl knew something about the woman and was unwilling to talk about it.
The bus came and she got on it. It accelerated swiftly along Miami streets, past tall white buildings and stores and houses. At once point the ocean came into view, then the bus started inland. Fifteen minutes later, Cindy was standing in front of a green stucco whose front lawn needed cutting. She walked up the front steps onto the concrete porch and rang the doorbell. The door opened.
"Cindy Drucker!!" Rosalie cried, delightedly.
Cindy went in and the two girls hugged each other, both talking at the same time. Then they laughed.
"How about some coffee?" Rosalie said. "We can sit down and you can tell me all the gossip."
"Fine," Cindy said. She put her suitcase near the door, while Rosalie went into the kitchen, and sat down on the white plastic couch. "Nice place you have here."
"Thanks," Rosalie said from the kitchen. "Gee, it's good to see you, Cindy. You haven't changed a bit."
"Neither have you," Cindy said, though it wasn't true. Rosalie had gained a lot of weight, a fact accentuated by her pregnancy, and the brightly colored shift didn't make her look any thinner. Also, her hair 'was a bright yellow. "I like your hair," she said, though she really didn't.
"Thanks," Rosalie said, coming back with two cups of coffee. She sat down on the couch with Cindy and put the cups on the coffee table. "I wanted to find out if blondes really have more fun."
"Do they?"
"Well, I'm pregnant," Rosalie said. "By the way, my name is Rosalie Cooper now. Johnny's a real great guy. He's an insurance adjuster. I met him while I was working in the same office. You'll meet him when he comes home from work later."
"I'd like that, but I've got to find a place to stay."
"Not today you don't. You're staying the night with us."
"I couldn't put you to any trouble, Rosalie."
"Don't be silly. Johnny won't mind. We've got a folding bed out in the garage we can bring in."
"That's very nice of you, Rosalie, but I was hoping I could stay with my mother. I haven't seen her for a long time, you know."
Rosalie fell silent and sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "Tell me about Hurley," she said after a while.
"Suppose you tell me about my mother," Cindy said, determinedly.
Rosalie sighed. "When I first came to Florida I didn't have any friends here, you know. I met Flo, but of course we didn't have much in common. Then I remembered your telling me your mother had come out here, so I started looking for her. I finally found her, by accident as it turned out."
"Why didn't you write me about it?" Cindy wanted to know.
"I ... I didn't want you to worry about it."
"About what?"
"Your mother has changed, Cindy. I thought it better you didn't know."
Cindy felt cold. "Changed? In what way?"
Rosalie hesitated. "It might be better if you just remembered her as she was."
"For goodness sakes, Rosalie," Cindy said in growing annoyance, "what's the big mystery. She's my mother, and I want to see her."
Rosalie sighed. "You're right, of course, Cindy. I just hate to see you hurt, that's all."
"Tell me," Cindy insisted.
"I've a better idea. I'll let you see for yourself." She got up, went from the room. A moment later she returned with a piece of paper with an address written on it. "This is where she's living. I'm sorry I held out on you. I was just trying to keep you from being disappointed."
"That's okay, Rosalie, I understand," Cindy said, though she didn't.
"Now, what's been happening back in Hurley since I've been gone?"
Cindy told her about their home town, telling about the various people they knew and what they were doing, but with a small part of her mind she was wondering in what ways Mamie Drucker had changed.
"Does my mother have a phone?" she asked suddenly.
"No," Rosalie said. "Look, I'll drive Johnny to work tomorrow, so we'll have the car. Then I can give you a lift down to see your mother."
Cindy rose. "Thanks, Rosalie, but I think I'd better see her alone."
"You're not going now?"
Cindy nodded. "I have to. I've been waiting a long time to ask my mother some questions."
"Can't it wait one more day?"
"No, not when I'm this close."
"I hope you're not angry with me, Cindy," Rosalie asked.
"No, of course not. I know you meant well."
"Give me a call tomorrow, huh? Maybe we can get together."
"Sure, if mother doesn't have any other plans." She picked up her suitcase and headed for the door. "Thanks, Rosalie."
Cindy walked down the street toward the bus stop, suitcase in hand, wondering whether she liked Rosalie Cooper any more or less than Rosalie West. In any event, Rosalie had changed, and it was more than the blonde hair. She had become a plump housewife far different from the girl she once was.
Back in Hurley, Texas, she'd been a wild one, and the townspeople had predicted she would wind up as one of the girls in the Prairie Flower, or come to some equally sordid, disreputable end. Apparently marriage and pregnancy had taken the spirit out of her. It was a little discouraging to think about it. Cindy always used to be the one who held back, too shy to go out adventuring in the world, and she'd hoped that when she and Rosalie got together they'd have themselves a lot of fun. It seemed out of the question now. Rosalie's idea of a good time now was probably having some coffee and home-made cake and watching the late show on television.
The address Rosalie had given her was very close to the ocean. The bus passed weatherbeaten houses hunched together in the sand. The number turned out to be a trailer court, with trailers of varying sizes bordering a concrete U-shaped drive. There was the sound of babies crying, the rattle of dishes, the sounds of afternoon television programs.
She went up to the dirty screen door of the trailer and tried to look inside without appearing to, but it was too dark. She couldn't find a doorbell, so she knocked on the wood beside the door. A male voice swore, and Cindy felt like turning and running away.
Perhaps her mother had gotten a divorce and remarried, she thought. She knocked again.
"All right!" a male voice said, annoyed.
The screen door opened and a young, muscular man in a crew cut and a towel across his middle looked out at her.
"Yeah?" he said.
"I ... I was looking for Mamie Drucker," Cindy said.
There was a movement in the trailer behind him, and a woman appeared. She was about forty years old, very slim, and she was pulling a halter over her lemon breasts.
"Who is it, Jay?" she wanted to know. Cindy felt her breath catch at the sound of that voice, familiar even after so many years.
"Some chick to see you, Mamie," the young man said.
The woman came closer, squinting out into the sunlight. She smiled. "No. It can't be," she said, in disbelief.
Cindy nodded happily. "I'm your daughter, Cindy," she said.