Dean had no alternative but to force her hands away and flip her from him, onto her back, reversing their positions in a single thrust that caused her to loudly gasp as she landed soundly on her back, Dean now above her.
"Listen," he snarled. "I'm not Joshua Martin! I'm not having sex with you! I have no intention of having sex with you! Your coming down here was cruel and unfair and I think you know it! You're not Annie Quincy-you're Edith Shipton. You may be hurt and feeling helpless and desperate and God knows what and I'm sorry as hell but I have a life too, and I'll not have you ruin it!" The alley light shone through the partially open door, interrupting the darkness just enough to illuminate the frightened look on her face. "Now, please go back upstairs."
"I just want to be with someone." Her voice a child-like whimper. "I need to talk to someone, please."
Dean paused. "If you go back to your room and dress, we'll talk. But in the parlor. With the lights on. And clothes on."
"I have my dress here," she answered meekly. "My white dress."
Before Dean could respond, he heard the sound-the front door opening! Who? Then he remembered Franny and her too frequent cigarettes. He remained motionless, wondering if she could possibly have left hers and Ryland's room nearly next to his without hearing them. A slow smile crept over Edith's face.
"You'll have to let me stay now," she said in a sharp whisper. "I'll be quiet." Before he could answer, the bedside telephone shrilled, its shocking ring penetrating the late night stillness. It rang a second time before Dean released Edith's pinned arms and answered it. It was Cynthia. Dean's heart sank.
"Did I wake you?" she asked. "I can never remember which way the time goes, earlier or later." Then she answered her own question. "Lord, then it's only, what? Four-thirty! I'm sorry."
"It's all right," he answered, his nerves tingling. He then added, "I've been trying to call you all day."
"I guessed you were, but ma doesn't have an answering machine. I've been at the hospital all day. Randy hitch-hiked out from college."
"Has something happened?" Dean assumed if Cynthia's son had traveled to see his grandmother, she had taken a turn for the worse. His heart continued to race as he glanced over at Edith. She smiled and began to hum, ever so quietly.
"No. Mother's better. Much better. She was awake off and on, most of the day. The doctor says long term, it looks good. She's weak and needs time and rest, but she has her old zest. Apparently the attack didn't do too much damage to the heart."