Never Too Rich (33 page)

“
All
of them?” asked the
florist, who was ready to lock up and couldn’t believe his good
fortune.

“
All
of them,” R.L.
repeated.

“
It’s your money!” The florist
laughed.

R.L. stuffed the back of the cab with the mountain
of flowers and got in beside the driver. Already he was feeling his
spirits lift a little. So she might scratch his eyeballs out. So
what? He’d wear her down with kindness until, sooner or later, she
couldn’t resist him any longer. And then she would be his
again.

Thus, laden with yet another extravagant peace
offering, R.L. headed to the San Remo, a sheepish but determined
smile fixed on his face.

Try as she might, Billie Dawn just couldn’t get the
unbidden tune out of her mind. It had begun forming the moment
they’d passed Forty-second Street, and now, as they approached the
Thirty-fourth Street exit of the FDR Drive, her head was literally
pounding
with the half-forgotten lyrics of “Downtown.”

For Petula Clark going downtown might have meant
forgetting troubles and cares, but for Bille Dawn it meant other
things entirely. For her, downtown meant:

Bikes.

Brutes.

Violence.

Fear.

Drugs.

Fights.

Rape.

Downtown did not harbor good memories for Billie
Dawn.

Never would. Never could.

She finally spoke up as the vertical glitter of the
Waterside complex slipped past on their left. “Where are we
headed?” Her voice was low and tremulous, and she moved as close to
Duncan as the bucket seat would allow.

“
Oh, to a special place,” he
replied evasively. “I think you’ll like it. Why?”

Billie’s face was pinched. “Is ... is it much
further?”

“
Not much,” he said. Having caught
the undercurrent in her voice, he flicked a sideways glance at her.
“We’re almost there.”

She nodded and turned back to the windshield,
staring in petrified panic at the curving necklace of bobbing
ruby-red taillights up ahead.

She felt his penetrating eyes upon her again. She
kept staring straight ahead, her taut face lighting up and
darkening in the come-and-go glare of oncoming headlights.

“
Hey,” he said with a worried
little laugh. “Did I lose you?”

“
No,” she said quietly, “you didn’t
lose me, Doc.” She looked out at the traffic a moment longer, then
turned her head and looked at him. “Could we not go much further
downtown, Doc? I’d really rather we didn’t.”

He frowned and glanced sideways at her in the
semidarkness. His voice was gentle and understanding. “Sure, baby,”
he said, switching on the turn signals and twisting around to look
before he changed lanes. He eased the car to the right, and at
Fourteenth Street swung onto the exit. After they crossed First
Avenue, he abruptly pulled over to the curb and let the engine
idle.

He turned to her and looked at her steadily in the
pallid glow of a streetlight. “Billie?” he asked softly. “Are you
all right?”

For a long moment she sat there tense and rigid, the
damn song threatening to burst her eardrums. But to Duncan the only
audible sounds were the throaty throbs coming from under the hood;
that and the whoosh of traffic passing, as drivers, anticipating
the changing light up ahead, made a run to get through before it
went red.

Slowly she turned her face to his and swallowed
bravely. “I . . . I’m okay, Doc.”

“
Something’s wrong . . . very
wrong. Why can’t you share it with me?” When she didn’t reply, he
reached out and took her face in his hands. “My shoulders are big
enough, Billie,” he added softly. “You can tell me anything. It
won’t change the way I feel about you.”

Her eyes didn’t leave his. “You must think me an
emotional mess. And you know what?” She laughed with bitter
softness. “I am.”

“
You’re wrong. I don’t think you’re
a mess.”

She stared at him. “Then why did you pull over? So
we could play Monopoly?” She twisted her head out of his hands and
faced front again, staring out the curved windshield. “You pulled
over because you know something is wrong. And you’re right.” Her
eyes suddenly filled with tears. “There is.”

His voice was gentle. “Do you want to talk about
it?”

She kept staring out the windshield. “Yes, but . . .
but I can’t. I
want
to, Doc. I want to desperately! But I
just
can’t!”
She turned to him, her lips quivering, and her
voice dropped to a husky whisper. “You . . . you’d be a lot better
off not getting involved with me, Doc.”

“
Says who?” he
challenged.

“
Says me,” she
whispered.

“
Why don’t you let me decide what’s
good for me?”

“
Because I don’t want you to get
hurt.”

“
Why should I get hurt? There’s
nothing wrong with you.”

“
Nothing wrong! Only nearly
everything, that’s all.”

The look in his eyes glowed with intentions so
gentle and sure and good that it hurt her to see it.

“
Doc, do you have any idea what
you’d be letting yourself in for?”

“
I don’t care,” he said
staunchly.

“
You don’t care now,” she said.
“But there’ll come a time when you do.”

“
I think you’re wrong,” he said.
“Just because you’ve been hurt and can’t talk about it yet doesn’t
mean you’ll be like that forever. Maybe you even believe that if
you unload what’s on your mind, nothing will come of it. But that’s
not true. Sharing one’s hurt— that’s the first real step toward
healing the wounds.”

“
Nightmares can’t be healed,” she
said in a strained whisper.

“
Hey, we all have nightmares.
Sleeping nightmares and waking nightmares. Sure, most of us haven’t
been through the hell you have, but everyone is haunted by
something.” His voice grew very quiet. “You can’t just hide your
scars, Billie. Don’t you see? If you do, they’re liable to eat you
up inside.”

“
But what happened—”

“
What happened,” he said harshly,
“is not your fault! You’ve got to get that kind of thinking out of
your head once and for all!”

“
I . . . I’m not a good person,
Doc. You saw what happened to me last winter. Things like that
don’t happen to nice girls.”

He felt a roaring anger seize hold of him. “You were
a victim, dammit! Nobody asks for what was done to you!”

“
But don’t you see? I knew them. I
lived with them!”

“
So? That doesn’t lessen the
violence any, nor does it put the blame on you.”

“
Please,” she begged. “Just drop
it? Let’s get off this subject?”

“
Let it out, Billie!” he urged.
“Share it. At least that way I can see to it that whatever
triggered it tonight won’t ever happen again.”

She touched his arm. “You’re so sweet, Doc,” she
said huskily. “You really do deserve better than me.”

“
Bullshit!” he retorted. “You’ve
got to stop putting yourself down!”

“
Doc . . .”

Suddenly he understood. “It happened down here
somewhere, didn’t it? That’s what’s brought it all flooding back.
That’s why you asked me not to go further downtown?”

“
Yes. It was . . . just above
Houston Street.”

“
Jesus. I wish I’d known. Then I
wouldn’t have brought you down here. But for the love of God,
Billie, you can’t keep things like this bottled up inside you. If
you don’t let off some steam, you’ll explode. Once that happens,
everybody gets hurt. The secret is to let the steam out a little at
a time. That way, the pressure doesn’t keep building.”

“
And there’s no explosion.” She
raised her head and smiled a little.

“
Atta girl. Now you’re
talking.”

“
You make it sound so
easy.”

He shook his head. “It’s not easy, Billie. In fact,
it’s probably the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do. But you
can’t let the past ruin the rest of your life,” he said gently.
“The world is full of monsters, but by the same token, it’s full of
gentle, loving people too. Don’t let what happened back in December
make you lose sight of that.”

“
Do you think . . .” she began
haltingly. She bowed her head for a moment, took a deep breath, and
then raised her face to his. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to . .
. you know . . .” Her voice trailed off and there was a wild kind
of desperation in her eyes.

“
I’m afraid you’ll have to be a
little more specific than that, Billie.” He gave her a little smile
to soften the words. “I’m not psychic, you know.”

She pulled away from him. “Make love,” she said in a
weary whisper. “I haven’t wanted to . . . not since last December.
What if I can’t ever—”

He interrupted her sharply. “Don’t even
think
it! Billie, love had nothing to do with what was done to you! It
wasn’t even sex. It was ugly, monstrous violence, the most vicious
kind of violation a human being can suffer.” He clenched his fists
on the steering wheel and glared angrily out the windshield. “There
doesn’t exist punishment enough for that kind of crime!”

“
I’m not seeking revenge, Doc. I
just want to feel normal and whole again. Is that too much to ask
for?”

She said it so longingly that he instinctively moved
closer to her. “I promise you, you will feel normal again, Billie.
But it will take time.”

She gave a discordant laugh. “I guess I’m young.
I’ve got all the time in the world. Right?”

He didn’t reply.

“
I’ll sure make some man very
happy, I can tell you that. I can just see it now. The frigid
wife.”

“
Billie,” he pleaded.

“
Don’t say anything, Doc!” The
tears were rolling faster down her cheeks now. “It doesn’t matter
anyway, does it? I mean, no man will ever want me. Not after the
way I’ve been . . . soiled.” Her voice cracked on the
word.

“
I will want you,” he said softly.
“I already do.”

She jerked, as though an invisible fist had blurred
out at her from under the dashboard. “Don’t tease me, Doc!” she
whispered.
“Please
don’t tease me!”

“
I’m not teasing you, Billie. I
love you. I don’t care how long it takes, or how much patience is
required to help you get over this. In time, you will. Besides,” he
added, striving for a little comic relief, “sex isn’t
everything.”

“
Oh, Doc!” she moaned, shaking her
head at his folly. “You poor luckless bastard. You’ve got no idea
what you’d be letting yourself in for!”

He flashed her a brilliant grin. “Oh, but you’re
wrong. You see, I
do
know what I’m letting myself in for.
And I’m in for the long haul—for richer or for poorer, in sickness
and in health and all of that.”

“
What are you saying, Doc?” she
breathed, her eyes suddenly wide.

“
Exactly what my words imply,” he
said blissfully. “Now, be a good girl and wipe away those tears.
Then what do you say we get our asses in gear and head straight
back uptown?”

“
I . . . I’d say that was just
fine,” she murmured tremulously, his sudden delight and unexpected
confession of love nourishing her with much-needed strength, yet
creating a maelstrom of new emotions.

“
Good. Then here goes!” He shifted
into first, looked back over his shoulder, spied an opening in the
traffic, and pulled smoothly out into it.

Beside him, Billie Dawn was wiping away the last
vestiges of her tears. Her confidence was building, slowly but most
surely. “Downtown” had become a diminishing background noise.

Chapter 35

R .L. waited as the San Remo’s porters piled the
jungle of floral bouquets outside the door of Edwina’s apartment.
When they turned to him and asked if there would be anything else,
he shook his head. “That’s it, gentlemen.” With a flourish, he
handed each man a crisp new greenback and smiled.

The men stared at the money in their hands. “Hey!
These are C-notes!” one of them exclaimed, adding reluctantly,
“Sure you didn’t make a mistake?”

“
Positive.”

“
Thanks!” Their grateful chorus was
accompanied by smiles of relief as they made a speedy getaway, lest
he change his mind.

Now that he was alone, R.L. eyed Edwina’s door with
more than a modicum of trepidation. He couldn’t blame her if she
refused to see him. But he had to see her, and apologize, and
explain.

“
Well, R.L., old boy,” he told
himself softly, rubbing his hands together, “here goes. If any
occasion ever called for your Irish gift of gab, this is it.” And
with that he shoved aside tall, waxy stalks of birds of paradise,
leaned over a mountain of tulips, and fought his way past scratchy
branches of flowering quince, barely managing to reach the
buzzer.

Ruby flung the door open. “Now, see here—” she began
hotly as she caught sight of the hedge of flowers. Then she saw
R.L. and squared herself, hand on a hip. “You!” she accused, her
big brown eyes narrowing.

“
That’s right, me,” he said as
suavely as Cary Grant. “Hello, Ruby.”

“
Humph. Hello yourself.” She eyed
the latest floral delivery with malevolence. “Are you crazy or
something?”

“
Never felt saner in my entire
life!” R.L. gave her a chipper smile and did a double-take. All
around Ruby, the inside of the foyer looked like the hall outside.
It was a sea of floral arrangements. Sally had taken him at his
word.