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The hell it is.

She laughed. Yes, it is.

I wasn’t even getting used to that other kind yet. I don’t know a thing about waltzes. Maybe I better take my seat.

No you don’t. You just have to count it out. Like before. I’ll teach you if you let me.

I suppose I can’t do no worse than I already done.

Put your arm around me again, please.

Like before?

Yes. Exactly like before.

He encircled her waist with his arm and she began to count it out for him. They moved slowly, one step, two steps, sliding around the floor, part of the crowd. Rose kept them moving.

LATER THEY WERE SITTING IN THE BOOTH AGAIN WITH Maggie Jones and Guthrie and they had each taken a second drink and were talking, and then a tall heavy man in a string tie and a brown western suit came up and asked Rose if she would care to dance. Raymond looked at her. All right, she said. He stood up and she slid out of the booth and the man led her onto the floor. Raymond watched them. The man knew how to dance, and was light on his feet despite his weight, and he twirled her around and they disappeared among the crowd of dancers.

I guess I’ll go on home now, Raymond said.

Why ever would you do that? Maggie said.

Because I know how this comes out.

No, you don’t. She’s only dancing with him. She’ll be back.

I don’t know that.

He turned toward the floor again as Rose and the man came swinging past.

Just wait, Maggie said. You’ll see.

Then the music ended and the man brought Rose back to the booth and thanked her. Raymond stood as she slid past him onto the seat and then sat back down beside her. There were little drops of sweat at her temples and her hair was damp at the edges of her face, her cheeks bright red. Would you get me another drink, please? she said.

I believe I can do that, Raymond said. He caught the eye of the barmaid and ordered them each another drink and they all began talking where they’d left off. After a while the big man in the string tie came back again to ask if Rose cared to dance, but she said she would sit this one out, that she was happy where she was.

Then Maggie and Guthrie went over to the bar to see some people they knew. Raymond waited until he saw they were talking with the other people, then turned back to Rose. Can I ask you something?

If you want to, Rose said.

I don’t even know how to ask it.

What do you want to know?

Well. I just want you to tell me right now if I got any chance of seeing you again. If you got somebody else hiding in the bushes I wish you’d tell me, so I don’t make a fool of myself.

She smiled. Hiding in the bushes? What bushes?

Any bushes.

There’s nobody hiding in the bushes.

There ain’t.

No. So does that mean you might call me?

Yes ma’am. That’s pretty much what it does mean.

When?

How about some night this coming week? Maybe you’d let me take you out for supper.

I’d look forward to it.

Would you?

Yes, I would.

Then I guess I’ll call you.

Then I guess I’ll be waiting.

Ma’am, I’ll be waiting myself, Raymond said.

THE DANCE ENDED AT MIDNIGHT AND THE LIGHTS CAME on in the dance hall, and the people in attendance at the firemen’s ball got up and moved up the stairs to the parking lot. Raymond walked Rose Tyler to her car and wished her good night, then turned toward home. Out in the country the wind had stopped and the entire vault of the moonless sky was crowded with stars. When he stepped out of the pickup, the house was dark and Victoria and Katie and Del Gutierrez were all in their beds. In the kitchen he turned the light on and got down a glass and drank some water, standing at the window looking out where the yardlight was shining across the outbuildings and over the horse barn and corrals.

Then Victoria came out to the kitchen in her nightgown and robe. She looked sleepy and dark-eyed.

Did I wake you? he said.

I heard you out here.

I thought I was being quiet.

How was it? she said. Did you have a good time?

I did.

What did you do?

Well, I spent most of the night with Tom and Maggie and a woman named Rose Tyler. Are you acquainted with her?

I don’t think so.

She’s a pretty nice woman.

What did she look like?

What did she look like? Well, she had dark hair. And she was about the same size as you, only not so thin.

What was she wearing?

I believe she had on a green dress. Kind of silky to the feel. She looked nice in it too.

And did you dance with her?

Yes ma’am. I was a dancing fool. She got me out there.

What kind of dancing?

Well, for one thing we did the waltz.

I don’t even know how to do that.

All you got to do is count it out. It’s three-four time Rose said.

Show me.

Now?

Yes.

Okay then. He took her hand and she set her other hand on his shoulder.

Go ahead. What’s wrong?

I’m trying to remember. Then he began to count and they danced twice around the kitchen table in a slow swaying movement, the old man with his stiff iron-gray hair and wool shirt and dark slacks, and the black-haired girl just risen from bed, come out to the room in her blue robe.

Thank you, she said when they had stopped.

I had me a good time tonight, he said.

I’m so glad.

And I know one other thing too. There’s a young girl that had her finger mixed up in this.

I might have had something to do with it, Victoria said. But not the dancing. I didn’t know about you and Rose Tyler.

He kissed her forehead. But don’t you do nothing else. I want to think I can manage the next step by myself.

38

ON AN EVENING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WEEK RAYMOND drove into Holt in his pickup. He had shaved and showered and put on cologne, and again was wearing his dark trousers and blue wool shirt and the silver-belly Bailey hat. After Rose invited him inside, he looked around the front rooms of her house, at the good furniture and the lamps and the good pictures on the walls. Raymond, how are you tonight? she said.

I’m doing okay, he said.

Shall we go?

Yes ma’am. Whenever you’re ready.

I’m ready now.

Where would you like to eat?

You decide, Rose said.

Well. Would the Wagon Wheel Café suit you?

That’d be fine, she said.

He walked her out to the pickup and opened the door and she slid onto the seat holding the skirt of her dress in place. In the warm spring night she was wearing a light cotton dress the color of peaches and a thin pale-green sweater.

You look awful nice, Raymond said when he came around and got into the cab. That’s a real pretty dress you’re wearing. It’s a different one from last time.

Yes, she said. Thank you. You look nice too, Raymond.

Oh, I wouldn’t say that.

Why wouldn’t you?

Ma’am. Look at me.

I am looking at you, Rose said.

AT THE WAGON WHEEL CAFé OUT EAST ON THE HIGHWAY there were a great many cars and pickups in the parking lot, and when they got inside the front door of the café people were standing about in groups, waiting to be seated. The hostess wrote Raymond’s name on her list and said it would be about twenty minutes.

Would you rather wait outside? Rose said.

Will she find us out there?

I’m sure she will.

Outside, Rose sat down on the brick ledge of the café’s flower bed. More people were coming in from the parking lot.

I should of made us a reservation, Raymond said. I never thought so many people came out in the middle of the week.