Gather Together in My Name - Maya Angelou [50]
“Lou!” She backed away from the door and we were right-handed into a dully furnished living room.
L.D. said he had some business to talk over with Clara and excused himself. He offered me a drink but I explained that I didn't drink and received an approving smile for my information.
No sounds reached me from the back of the house. I began wondering: Suppose L.D. was renting a room and instead of coming back himself sent Clara to get me. If she said, “Rita, Lou wants to see you in the back,” I wouldn't know how to answer. I wasn't stupid enough to say, “Please tell him that I never go to bed with a man on the first date.” She'd laugh me out of the place. There was nothing for it but to submit. But submit in such a way that he'd feel badly and I'd feel nothing. That was my plan.
They were laughing as they came back into the room.
“Clara, you're still ace-high in my book,” said L.D. “But we have to get a move-on.”
“Aw, Lou, let's sit down for a while. Let me and Rita get acquainted.” Her smile wrinkled her whole face and she looked like a rubber doll won at playland.
“This lady worked hard all night and I know she'd like to get home and rest.” He looked at me. “I'm sorry. Maybe the next time I'll let you sit around talking women's talk with her. Come on, Rita, we'd better head back to Stockton.”
I shook hands with Clara and said, “Thank you, I'm sure … See you again … I had a very nice time … 'Bye.”
In the car I hastily discarded my unnecessary defense plans and tried to figure what to expect next. He probably wanted to take me to his place. But as soon as we reached the outskirts of Stockton I was going to ask to be taken home because I had a fearful headache. If he was a real gentleman, he would acquiesce.
We were as quiet on the return drive as the black trees outside the windows. The lights of the town flashed faintly and I prepared my spiel.
“Rita, I've sure appreciated you making this ride with me. I have to go to Sacramento twice a week and it's lonely at night by yourself. I knew you were tired when I asked you, but just like the other night, you showed what a big heart you had. I really appreciate it.”
He swung the car into the black area.
“Where do you live?”
Again I had girded myself for no reason. “I have a room at Kathryn's.”
“Cooking privileges?” He knew the place.
“Yes.”
“Well, sometime maybe you'll cook me a meal. If you're not too tired.”
We were in front of my door and he made no attempt to even kiss me good night.
“Good night, L.D.”
“Good night, Rita. I'll see you soon.”
The blue car eased down the street and I wondered if in my ignorance I had lost my chance for a life of tender loving being cared for.
The next evening when I left work he was parked outside. He flashed the lights.
“Rita. Good evening. I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to see you again.”
Glorious day.
I sat back in the already familiar seat and breathed in his perfume.
“You're so young and fresh. And I sure like the way you talk. So young.” He laughed a little. I couldn't remember what I'd talked about the night before, and felt the terrible burden of trying to think up something useful to entertain him.
Young talk to me was silly vacant chatter. I couldn't imagine the drivel of young girls coming out of my head and mouth, but I wanted to amuse, so I decided to tell him one story of my life.
“You know, I love to dance. I've studied since I was fourteen and I've been in show business. I was part of the Poole and Rita dance team.”
We had left Stockton streetlights and were on the highway before I noticed.
“We're going down to Tulare; it's not far. Go on, tell me about your dancing. I knew you weren't all that graceful for nothing.”
I unreeled imaginary stories of the night clubs I had worked in and the steps I learned and my glamorous costumes. As I talked my career sparkled with success and I was a star of the brightest magnitude, bowing and smiling to a vast audience which would never be satisfied.
In Tulare we visited Minnie, whose house was identical