by Linda Ellen
“That’s quite alright, Louise dear. You have your part down pat, we’ll just continue without you – Fleet can be your stand-in. You run along and obey your mother,” she added warmly.
“Yes, Ma’am. See ya later, guys,” Louise mumbled to her cast mates as she turned and made her way quickly down the stage steps.
“Come on, Billy,” she ordered with a sigh of resignation, grasping his arm to tug him along.
“Aw shucks, I wanna stay and watch,” he mumbled.
“If I can’t stay, neither can you,” Louise growled, exercising her ‘older sister’ authority.
Reaching the door, Louise draped her coat over her head and dashed with her brother out into the still pouring rain. They ran the two and a half blocks home to the cramped apartment shared by the six family members – their mother and father, Mary Lilly and Willis, along with four siblings, a pair each of boys and girls.
Five minutes later, and soaking wet, brother and sister quickly clomped up the steps and scurried inside the large two-story duplex near the corner of Second and Chestnut. The family’s diminutive apartment was on the first floor toward the back of the building.
Mouth watering aromas filled the abode. “Louise, help me get supper on,” her mother, Lilly, instructed as soon as the girl stepped foot inside.
Lilly Hoskins, a short, stout, hard-working woman, had lived through many a tough time in her fifty-five years. She wore her long, straight, light brown hair in a bun, and her roundish face and creamy skin accentuated the shine of her sapphire blue eyes. If picturing their mother, all four siblings would have undoubtedly seen the same image in their minds – dark blue sheath dress, its white buttons done up to the rounded white collar, black sensible shoes, and the inevitable apron tied around her waist as she labored at keeping their two-room apartment orderly and spotless. Like most people during the lean years from twenty-nine until the War began, they didn’t have much, but what they did have she made sure she kept neat as a new pin.
A proud woman, Lilly sometimes let that pride get in the way. An example of that was her unusual penchant for refusing to stand with everyone else in the neighborhood ‘soup’ lines. Insisting that one of her children ask for an extra helping for their homebound parent – when she was anything but – Lilly just couldn’t stand the thought that others might realize they were as ‘needy’ as the majority of the population.
“Where’s Edna?” Louise asked curiously as she removed her coat.
“In bed with cramps,” her mother replied in a tone that brooked no more questions.
Louise sighed wearily, but made no fuss, knowing that her sister did have extremely miserable cramping during the first day of her monthly. Moving toward the kitchen area, she bent to press a kiss to her Daddy’s cheek as he sat reading the newspaper in his worn, but comfortable, easy chair.
Willis was a tired looking, lanky man with thinning salt and pepper hair and faded blue eyes. He smiled lovingly up at Louise, reaching up to give her cheek an affectionate pat, as he mused how proud – and blessed – he was to have such a beautiful, obedient daughter.
“I’m so glad you’re home, Daddy,” Louise murmured softly, grinning as she was rewarded with one of his cheery winks, visible behind his wire rim glasses.
“I’m glad to be home, Sweet Pea,” he murmured affectionately. “It was a long, wet trip this time.”
Billy kicked his wet boots off and dropped his jacket on the floor before flopping down on a chair near his father. Willis gave his son a glance and with a tiny grin, separated the comics from his paper and handed it over to the youngster. This had become a ritual between father and son, looked forward to by the boy more than the father would have imagined. Billy grinned back and flipped the paper open, intending to immediately immerse himself in the world of Popeye, Buck Rogers, and Tarzan, while arrayed on his chair in the exact pose of his parent – one leg crossed over the other, face set in concentration.
Lilly, without looking up from her task, instructed her youngest to pick up the discarded article of clothing and hang it on the hook by the door.
“Billy, don’t you have homework?” the mother astutely added, casting a knowing glance at him as she stood preparing supper at the old Magic Chef stove in the corner.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Billy muttered as he turned from obeying her order about the jacket and chanced a peek at his father, whom he hoped had become thoroughly engrossed once again in his paper. No such luck. Willis Hoskins, ever alert and nearly impossible for any of his children to fool, cast The Eye at his youngest over the top of both his spectacles and his newspaper. No words were needed – Billy grudgingly folded the paper and reached for his schoolbooks.
Louise grinned at Billy’s antics before glancing over at her other brother, Joseph “Sonny Boy” Hoskins, a tall, handsome young man of sixteen with an unruly shock of blond ‘sunshine’ hair and cornflower blue eyes. Ambitious and hard working like his parents, he was busy placing a stack of newspapers into his shoulder bag in preparation for his shift of hawking the evening edition of the Louisville Times at the ‘magic corner’ of Fourth and Broadway. Sonny’s small job played a large part in keeping food on the table for the family of six. He was an excellent salesman, and his father often affectionately joked that his son could sell an icebox to an Eskimo.
“Sonny, how you gonna sell papers in this rain?” Louise asked her brother pointedly as she reached up on the shelf over the sink to retrieve the plates and glasses for the meal.
He shrugged and leaned over to pick up his hand-me-down jacket and quickly slipped his arms into the somewhat tight sleeves. From one of the bunched flapped pockets, he withdrew his traditional newsboy’s flat cap, and placed it firmly on his head. “It’ll stop soon. But I can always stand in the big entrance of the Heyburn and wait for some of them top floor executives to come out. They’re always good for a sale.”
“Sonny, now you take those things right back off,” Lilly fussed. “You’re not going till you eat a hot meal. It’s wet and cold out there and you need your strength.”
“It ain’t been cold all week, Mama, and today it got up to sixty-five. That’s what the paper says,” Sonny refuted, pointing to the top story on the front page.
“Sure is crazy weather,” Billy agreed, looking up from his history book.
Just then, Edna emerged from the bedroom and eased into a chair at the table. “It sure is crazy. I don’t remember ever seein’ January so warm like this…and what’s with all this rain? I hate it! It’s makin’ my hair frizz,” she griped, curling her lip in a characteristic pout as she impatiently pushed back a lock of her hair that she had dyed red the day before.
“Well, warm or cold, it doesn’t matter Joseph Robert – you still need to eat to keep up your strength. Hauling newspapers around is heavy work,” Lilly insisted.
“Aw Mama…” he muttered, but Willis cast him the ‘mind your mother’ look. It was enough. Sonny sighed and removed his cap.
“Alright, but I gotta get goin’ soon. I gotta beat Jim and Harold,” he added, referring to two other newsboys who had, as of late, been vying for first dibs on Sonny’s lucrative spot if he happened to be running late. They knew he had it down to a science, catching patrons in their mink coats or top hats coming and going at the luxurious Brown Hotel, and late toiling office workers from the Heyburn Building directly across the street. Providing he got there before rush hour was over, he never failed to sell out.
After several minutes, the family sat down to a hot, delicious meal of fried potatoes and onions sprinkled with bits of hot dog, and served with creamed peas. Lilly was a good cook and had a knack for fashioning a filling meal out of whatever was on hand.
Settling in, they continued talking about the events of their day and the subject that was on everyone’s mind – the aggravation caused by the seemingly unending rain.
After a few minutes, the soft music playing on their Westinghouse cabinet-style radio was interrupted by yet another report predicting
more of the same – and possible flooding. The family took little notice.
At the conclusion of the weather report, the announcer calmly intoned in his smooth baritone ‘radio’ voice, “And now, back to our program of Dance Band favorites.”
‡
CHAPTER 3
The Meeting
True to Earl’s word, Ford had indeed allowed a group of men to work all day, both Thursday and Friday, and paid cash at the end of each day. Earl, Vic, and Alec had managed to be the first three in line on both days. For Vic, it sure felt good to have money in his pocket again – and he had enjoyed placing five whole dollars in Liz’s hand at the end of the second day. That even earned him a grudging half smile from his sister-in-law.
Later that evening, Vic pulled up to a two-story brick duplex on Chestnut Street in a large, black, ‘33 Studebaker, and quickly checked the address on the small slip of paper.
Rain was coming down steadily, with no end in sight, and it made Vic grateful that Earl’s father had allowed him to borrow his car for his date. Turning off the motor, he glanced around at the black and chrome interior of the vehicle, with its extended back end, long side windows, and low roof. Hope Edna’s got a sense of humor…and don’t mind ridin’ in an old hearse… he mused with a grin as he turned in the seat and laid a hand on the backrest of the worn and faded horsehair seat cover. Spying the torn places in the headliner and knowing the damage had occurred from the sharp edges of wooden coffins sliding in and out, he emitted a tiny chuckle. I think this car’s nifty, with its big round headlights, old-fashioned running boards and spare tire on the side. He remembered Earl’s father acquiring the vehicle for a ‘song’ when the Coots Funeral Home in Jeffersonville had purchased a new one. The big old car, now a familiar site in their neighborhood, had come in handy for many things, such as taking kids to school on rainy and snowy days, or transporting injured neighbors to the hospital.
Reaching up to tilt the small, mottled rear view mirror to the left to check his appearance one more time, Vic attempted to quell the butterflies flapping their wings in his stomach. Cursing the incessant rain and mumbling of his aversion to blind dates, Vic flipped up the collar of his worn leather aviator jacket and slipped out of the vehicle. Sprinting to the door of the building, he quickly ducked inside the main entrance. There, in the dim light from a single bare bulb high up in the ceiling, he checked the paper again to make sure it was apartment number two, before making his way down the shadowy hall to the large door.
Through its scratched, dark walnut surface, he could hear music and people talking, though he couldn’t determine how many were inside. The thought made him, for a moment, somewhat uneasy, as it was always a little unnerving to approach the unknown. At his knock, he heard scuffling noises and what sounded like urgent whispered instructions. When no one immediately came, his brow furrowed as he cocked his head to one side, trying to decide whether he should knock again.
Man I hate blind dates…who knows who’s gonna open this door… If Alec has fixed me up with another dog…I’ll have his hide, he smirked, shaking his head at his own thoughts. Mentally, he prepared himself to maintain a neutral expression no matter what the girl’s appearance might be, not wishing to hurt the poor thing’s feelings…
Just as he raised his fist to give the door another rap, he heard the lock being turned and the entry opened about a foot.
The delicious aroma of fried potatoes and onions, still permeating the warm abode, came floating out to tickle his senses. His mouth instantly watered, reminding him he’d only downed a quick bologna sandwich when he returned home from work, since Liz had not saved him any supper.
Then his eyes widened and a slow smile made his handsome face beam with charm.
There in the opening stood a lovely young woman in a tea length dress of embroidered netting over champagne satin. Rich sable hair softly floated around her shoulders…creamy smooth skin on a heart shaped face made it seem as if an ever-present light shone in her countenance, like the flame of a candle…lips like the wispy curve of a butterfly’s wings stretched slightly over a perfect line of pearly white teeth…and beautiful hazel eyes twinkled behind gently curling black lashes as she stared up at him enraptured. Vic’s breath caught as he stared back, momentarily stunned. He felt his pulse speed up as he took in the girl’s radiance.
Finally, he cleared his throat and unconsciously ran a hand back through his hair, which had been made slightly wavier by the rain and the damp evening air.
“Umm…Edna?” he murmured, the damp weather making his warm baritone sound husky. The words served to break the spell into which the two had been plunged.
The young woman blinked several times as if trying to gather her thoughts. Then one delicate hand unconsciously moved to the neck of her dress as she slowly shook her head.
“No…I’m Louise…Edna’s my sister. Are you Vic?” she managed. Unconsciously, she moistened her suddenly dry lips; slightly afraid he could hear the thunderous thumping of her heart.
Vic nodded and chuckled self-consciously, feeling like a fool for not introducing himself at once.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m Vic Matthews…I’m here to pick up Edna…she ready?” he added, silently hoping the sister was as much a looker as this one.
Glancing back over her shoulder at someone Vic couldn’t see from the doorway, Louise turned back to him apologetically, “Oh…I’m sorry. She’s…not feeling good tonight,” she murmured. She seemed to be hedging, as if scrambling for a reason other than the truth. “She won’t be able to go on the date with you. She’s sorry you made the trip for nothing…she didn’t have a way to reach you.” Her voice was kind and gentle, and seemed to glide into his ears and take up residence in the center of his chest.
Vic digested this for a moment. He was being stood up by a blind date. Great, he silently fumed, wondering if she truly ‘didn’t feel good.’ He thought for a moment that maybe the lovely Louise might want to go in her sister’s place, but negated that idea, figuring she already had a date for the evening – since she appeared to be dressed for it.
Vic had no way of knowing that Edna had borrowed the dress for their date; however, now that she couldn’t go, Louise had tried it on… and it fit her perfectly. Just before Vic had arrived, Louise had been modeling the lovely dress for her father and brother, the elder commenting that it made her seem much more mature.
The two at the door heard a muffled voice from the other room and Louise nodded in answer, relaying to him, “She asked if she could take a rain-check.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized the unintended pun. Biting her lip, she attempted to stop herself from chuckling. Vic caught the joke and nodded, his lips pulling into a half grin. His eyes dropped to her mouth as her lips rounded into a smile that seemed somehow, in his unconscious opinion, to fend off the gloom of the rainy night.
Glancing back up to meet her eyes again, he murmured with a shrug. “Yeah, sure.” He waited a few beats more, staring at the girl as she returned his gaze. “Well…goodnight then,” he finally added, nodding to her as he turned to retrace his steps back down the hall. So much for a hot date to ‘keep me warm on a rainy night,’ he mused wryly.
Louise watched him until he disappeared out the front door and into the rain, then slowly stepped back into the cozy apartment and shut the door. Leaning her forehead against the cool hard wood, she could still smell the heady scent of Old Spice aftershave that had emanated from him…could still see the twinkle in his eyes, and hear his smooth voice intoning, “Goodnight.” Her knees felt weak.
My gosh! That has got to be the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life! She reflected as she turned to rest her back against the hard surface of the door. Staring straight ahead as though in an enchanted stupor, she allowed every second of the encounter to replay in her mind. Pressing a hand unconsciously to her chest, she felt her heart still pounding fast.
Those eyes…that wavy hair…those dimples…his voice was so smooth and deep…i
t was like living a scene from a movie…she dreamily contemplated, totally immersed in his enchanting memory.
“Louise, is he gone?” Edna’s edgy voice interrupted her reverie.
Distracted, Louise called back, “Yeah.”
“Well…what was he like?” her sister impatiently inquired as she came to the bedroom doorway. “Was he cute?”
Louise glanced at her sister, her gaze taking in the habitual sour expression, the brassy red hair, the cold blue eyes and the stubborn set to her chin. It occurred to her that Edna always seemed to get everything she wanted, while Louise ‘performed’ like Cinderella. Edna snuck around, drank beer, and did all kinds of things she never seemed to get in trouble for, while Louise was called on the carpet for ‘looking’ at someone wrong.
Louise’s eyes narrowed slightly as she made up her mind right then and there. If any Hoskins girl snags handsome Mr. Vic Matthews, its gonna be me.
Fibbing to her sister for the first time in her life, Louise shrugged nonchalantly and moved away from the door. Purposely, turning her back to her sister’s shrewd stare, she murmured, “He was…just okay.”
“Just okay, huh?” Edna snorted, decidedly unladylike. “Well good, then I’m glad I couldn’t go with him,” she added as she turned back into the room to recline on the bed with the hot water bottle and a well-worn copy of Hollywood magazine.
“Louise, come help me,” their mother instructed just then, beckoning the girl to come and assist with drying the dishes. “And you better take off that borrowed dress before you get something on it.”
Louise automatically obeyed, her mind only half on the task…the other half was firmly occupied with a pair of warm brown eyes and dark wavy hair.
Somehow she knew something significant had just happened…and she would never be the same.
*
Back at the car, Vic dived in through the driver’s door and shut it quickly against the deluge, muttering an expletive or two and taking out a worn handkerchief to wipe his hands dry. Won’t this beastly rain ever stop?
