A Dress to Die For

by Christine Demaio-Rice

  “You can call it,” Ruby mumbled when she saw Dionne. “C-grade celebrity suits you.”

  “Okay, Prince,” Laura said. “That’s the lady. Make sure she sees you, and give her a second to tweet about it.”

  The prince put his hand on Laura’s back, which made her want to throttle him because someone’s camera-phone had invariably caught it. Jeremy was going to have either a good laugh or a good joke about it, but the rest of the garment center would whisper and cackle. She’d go from minor opportunist to major slut in fifteen minutes. She reminded herself that she had it easy with Jeremy and his teasing. There were men who would behave worse about less.

  They were seated at the bar immediately, with the promise of an emergency table in mere seconds. Salvadore’s face had been all over the television, and his presence at Lanai was going to get the restaurant in more than a few celebrity blogs in minutes. It would be a shame if the prince wasn’t seated before TMZ put it up.

  Ruby sat next to Laura and ordered drinks as if she didn’t care about the bill, which would be adequate to pay off a student loan, if one were to exaggerate. The bottles were hidden behind a screen made of some kind of fiber optic mesh that displayed beautiful nature scenes. When the bartender touched the screen, a box popped up, and when he asked for a type of liquor, the screen opened to exactly the spot. That couldn’t have been any easier or faster than working in a dive bar where you could grab the seventeen-year-old bottle of Cynar without having to open a screen or knowing how to spell it, but the futuristic screens coupled with the old growth woods and navy damask made the place look so expensive, the bartenders could make up for the difference in time with their extra tips.

  Laura was two gins in half an hour later, sitting in a window booth that they’d invariably cheated someone out of, probably someone who had gotten their reservations a month ago like a good girl or boy. Salvadore sat on one side of her and Hector on the other. There was food and the wine that Soso brought to be drank with the milk delivered from behind the bar. Portuguese was being flung around with English, and Ruby and Laura made a real pretend effort to learn a few words. But the person they were putting on the show for was on her way across the room in her matte-black bomber jacket.

  Laura yanked on the Prince’s lapel. “Did you tell the rest of the entourage why we’re out?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Salvadore just smirked. Bastard. Laura didn’t have an extra second to hate him because Dionne Frescan arrived, big plastic smile under big plastic glasses. “Oh my God!” she cried. “How are you, darlings?”

  Perfect. Laura pushed Hector, and he shifted over so she could get out of the booth. Ruby was already on the far side, and the seating arrangement went to hell as two of Dionne’s friends started chattering with whichever entourage member seemed closest. Air kisses were flung, big smiles were flashed. She reminded herself what Jeremy had taught her. She smiled through it, trying not to look as though she was deducing what they wanted from her, putting nothing on her face but attention and pleasure.

  She suddenly felt sober. Appearing happy to see Dionne took too much concentration for tipsiness.

  “You came with the crown prince of Brunico?” Dionne asked. “Moving up in the world.”

  “High prince,” Laura said. “And we’re just out for drinks, silly.”

  As if she could sense the lie on her sister’s lips, Ruby jumped in. “Oh my God, Dionne. I saw your piece on us. I owe you a drink.”

  The thing in W must have come out. Laura had missed it in the fray and was glad of it. Soso looked over at her and tipped his drink in her direction. She smiled stiffly. Looking back at Salvadore, he nodded at one of Dionne’s friends who was talking a mile a minute. He looked miserable and uncomfortable, eyes darting around, probably looking for Dad. Laura decided the best way to piss him off was to have a conversation he couldn’t hear.

  She squeezed past Dionne, who was tap-tapping into her phone as she and Ruby giggled about something, and went to Soso Oseigh.

  “What’s his plan?” she said into Soso’s ear.

  “To have a good time.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “Someplace with more air.”

  “Anything in mind?”

  “Actually, I believe there’s a roof?”

  “Fantastic.”

  Soso’s concerned face despite the fact that he didn’t know what the Prince was up to had told Laura that he wasn’t a bit player in the drama. Laura was interested in shaking up whatever Salvadore had planned, because throwing him off course would give her a minute to think about what needed to be done to save the dress and possibly the negligent, absent, jerk of a father she had yet to meet.

  Soso made excuses, and they headed out.

  Ruby caught up to them at the stairwell. “Where are you going?”

  “It’s getting crowded in there, and being near Dionne gives me a rash.”

  “Please, no one takes the stairs but tourists.” She guided Soso and Laura back through the restaurant, where they picked up the rest of the entourage like lint. It wasn’t what Laura had hoped for, but she’d gotten tired of that table.

  Apparently, anyone who was anyone got up to the roof of the four-story building the illegal way, via the fire escape. Salvadore did seem thrown for half a second as they exited into the street, went down the little driveway thing between buildings, and took the fire escape up to the roof. It was a long journey, with partiers coming down as they were going up, carrying the Lanai-style glasses that looked chipped from a block of ice and smoking cigarettes like criminals. Four stories later, Laura curved her body around the metal ladder and stepped onto the roof patio. It was a barely legal enterprise with a wooden awning on one side with grape leaves twisted in the lattice like a woman’s untrimmed bangs and a half-floor with a bar and bathrooms. A DJ spun with the New Jersey waterfront behind him, his fingertips exposed through slit tops of leather gloves. It was a breath of fresh air, with hors d'oeuvres served by part-time actors wearing full-time smiles. The entourage came behind her: Salvadore, Ruby, Soso, Hector, and Arturo. They seemed to have shaken Dionne for the moment, and Laura needed that moment to talk to Ruby.

  “Bathroom.”

  Ruby came willingly, but Laura still had to drag her a little.

  The bathroom on the roof was only slightly less nice than the one downstairs. There was no bathroom attendant keeping perfumes, makeup, and clean towels available, just a little marble and mirrors on every vertical surface, in case you couldn’t see yourself at any point.

  “Jesus,” Ruby said. “What the hell are we waiting for? I have never been so bored in my life.”

  “Boredom’s not going to kill you. Have you seen Dad? Anyone who looked like him?”

  “How fast do you think he can get here? I mean, he might have been in Queens. Give him time.”

  “Soso told him, I have a gut feeling.”

  A toilet flushed behind them, and a woman exited the stall and sidled to the sink.

  Laura recognized her immediately. “Jobeth?”

  Jobeth looked up at Laura and did a double-take. “Oh, hello!”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Eating dinner. We just decided to try the roof.”

  Laura’s shoes suddenly felt extremely heavy on her feet. “I went to the apartment to see you again. And I… well I made a little leap of logic, which at the time seemed really sound. But right now if I explained it to you, it really seems more like stealing.”

  Laura looked down at her feet, and Jobeth’s eyes followed.

  “Oh,” Jobeth said. “The shoes!”

  “I’m perfectly willing to go home barefoot.” Laura regarded Jobeth in the mirror.

  “I had a feeling you’d be back,” Jobeth said. She smiled at Laura through the mirror, Ruby right next to her, pretty as a picture. Jobeth made no move to explain why she’d left the shoes, nor did she try to explain her presence at Lanai or her disappearance from the
Brunican condo at the Iroquois. Maybe she was waiting for a direct question, or maybe she felt she didn’t have to explain her movements to someone she’d met once.

  Laura had too many questions and maybe ten seconds to ask them, but her mind wouldn’t allow her to verbalize anything because, as the woman stood next to Ruby, Laura caught out of the corner of her eye the shape of cheek and chin, the curve of the eyelid, and gasped. She could never unsee in Jobeth’s face what was so clear at that moment.

  “Dad?”

  CHAPTER 20

  The seconds of silence that filled the bathroom after Laura recognized Jobeth as her father weighed about as much as a Chevy. He cleared his throat, and she heard the mannishness in it.

  “Oh, you—” Ruby cut herself off from what could only have been a litany of expletives. Laura recognized that expression the same as she’d recognize a look of endearment or fatigue, and it was the face Ruby made right after someone called Laura Crapcrotch.

  “Ruby, don’t—”

  But Ruby had already pulled back her arm, and there was no stopping the lightning-fast reflexes of the most beautiful girl in any room. The girl who could have been a model if she had cared to. The girl who looked airbrushed in real life. She belted Dad so hard he was thrown back into Laura, who fell into a towel dispenser, breaking it and sending the spool of expensively soft paper rolling to Ruby’s platform boots.

  “Ow,” was all Dad got out before Ruby lunged onto him, straddling him so he couldn’t move. She socked him two more times before Laura untangled herself and pulled Ruby back.

  “Let go of me!” Ruby shouted. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “For Chrissakes, Ruby! We’re going to get thrown out.”

  “I don’t care!”

  “Yes, you do, because then the prince is going to kill him for you.” She turned to her father, who was a joke in drag, once she could see it. Ruby had punched half the makeup right off him, exposing nighttime shadow on his cheeks and smudging his lipstick. “And you.”

  “Hello, Lala.” He wiped off some makeup. His voice was disconcertingly mannish.

  “You better keep that crap on your face if you want to get out of here in one piece. I don’t know what the hell you think you were doing.”

  “I had to see you. I had to apologize. I just…” He sat up straight and got his breasts in order. “I’m leaving tonight. I’ll be gone for good. I wanted to tell you I always loved both of you.”

  “Bullshit,” Laura said. “Why the drag? Why the stupid notes with no postmark or return? Why the saffron gown? Speak, or I’m turning Ruby loose.”

  He didn’t have a chance to answer. The door to the bathroom opened, and the sounds of the DJ blasted in. Two girls stood in the doorway, mid-giggle. Laura realized what they were seeing: a woman in her sixties on the floor, being hovered over by two much younger women, one of whom had her fist pulled back and ready to strike. Behind the newcomers stood Poly Print, who had probably been sent to look for the Carnegie sisters.

  “Who knows?” Laura asked Dad.

  “Nobody. No. One person. You don’t know her.”

  The giggling girls slipped in with uncomfortable sideways strides.

  Laura held out her hand to help Dad. “We have to get you out of here. Salvadore is trying to flush you out because he thinks you have the saffron gown and you were screwing his wife for twenty years.” Laura held up her hand. “Don’t start. I know half the story. The other half makes no sense.”

  Laura’s mind was a blank. She was holding her father’s hand. It would have been foolish to say she thought the day would never come, because that implied she thought the day actually would come but dared not hope for it. Being in the same room as him was like sharing space with a dead person. “Ruby, think of something.”

  “She’s having heart palpitations, and we’re going to the street level to get a better signal,” Ruby said.

  “The signal would be better on the roof.”

  “She has dementia, and we’re getting her a cab?” Ruby seemed as flummoxed by the presence of the dead man as Laura was.

  “If she had dementia, we’d call the cops or an ambulance.”

  Dad held up his perfectly manicured hand and said in his Jobeth voice, “I’m your fourth grade teacher. I’m buying you a drink, but my table is downstairs.”

  “You would know how to lie,” Laura said. “Let’s see that smile.”

  Dad put on his Jobeth expression, checked himself in the mirror, then smiled.

  Dad was trying to soothe Laura, but all she wanted to do was punch the other side of his face.

  In the ten minutes they’d been in the bathroom, the roof had acquired a crowd. Laura thought she might try to introduce Jobeth to Salvadore but decided against it. The lie was only there for emergency use. She had no way of knowing what kind of memory Salvadore had of Joseph, especially considering Laura had recognized him from twenty-year-old photographs she’d seen once.

  Hector was still outside the door, waiting for them. The three of them smiled at him. Laura indicated she was going to the bar, then once the Brunican was on his way, yanked Dad’s hand in the other direction. Ruby had on her game face, which meant she looked as though she had her eyes open for the right person coming up the fire escapes or a Brunican prince with a tiny violence problem. All smiles and pleasantness, comfort and warmth… that was Ruby, until you pissed her off.

  Ruby, who had a way of detecting traffic flow, found the actual stairs. She led the way, hugging the banister and pissing off everyone they bumped on the way, Dad between them like a prisoner they didn’t want escaping. The crowd was fire-hazard thick, and the flow of people was like a tide in the wide stairwell. Dad clung to the banister, facing the wall when he could, but as they went from third floor to second, taking the turn at a landing, he stopped.

  “He’s here,” Dad said, forgetting his Jobeth voice. “I can smell him.”

  Laura and Ruby looked at each other, not knowing what to make of anyone smelling anything in the waterfall of humanity. There was nowhere to go but down. They went as quickly as possible, keeping their heads down so their faces wouldn’t be easy to see. Laura pulled off her pink hat, and Ruby pinned up her hair in a single swoosh of her hand. Looking at the floor meant that if anyone was following, they couldn’t see them, so when they were thrust out onto Riverside Drive, they didn’t know if they’d been successful in getting Dad away from Salvadore or not.

  “So what are we doing now?” Ruby asked.

  Laura had no answer for her. It was as if being in Dad’s presence shut off her mind, crowding out any rational thought in the face of anger, love, confusion, and hurt. She looked at him, the man she thought she’d never meet, who had been dead to her; the man in a silly old lady haircut and faded makeup as he glanced up the fire escape. Laura followed his glance. Soso and Salvadore leaned against a railing on the second floor, looking at the three of them.

  “This way,” Dad said in his Dad voice, which she’d never get used to.

  Ruby looked at Laura and shrugged. “How far you going in those heels?”

  “At a grand a shoe,” Laura said, “they better get me to Jersey.”

  Dad was already halfway across Riverside, and the girls had to hurry to catch him.

  “Where the hell is he going?” Ruby asked.

  He couldn’t be going anywhere far. The water was a block away. Unless he intended to just fall over and swim to safety, he had a block and a half of weaving roads, streets, and overpasses through a mesh of parks and trees to tread before they hit the docks.

  “The yacht club,” Laura said when they caught up to him on the other side of Riverside. “You’re going to the yacht club. What’s there?”

  Dad got in the shadow of an oak tree with a trunk as wide as a house and stood behind it, panting. It was dark, and the grass under their feet grew in a soft loam that sucked on her heels. Though the street was yards away and the highway was above them and a few paces west, she heard crickets and
birds in that little patch of nature.

  “Just go back,” Dad said. “I have it from here. I’m sorry I couldn’t see you longer.”

  “Where’s the dress?” Laura asked. “I know you have it. You sent it to the Met, and you stole it and switched it with that Brunican piece of crap they have up there now. It was all you the whole time. Did you steal that dress and then steal it again for the insurance money? Did you kill the princess?”

  “No!”

  “Then who killed her?” Laura demanded.

  Ruby, who had been keeping a good lookout, put her hand up for silence. “They’re coming.”

  Laura and Dad looked around the tree. Salvadore and Soso were indeed on their way across the street and coming fast.

  “I’m sorry, Lala,” Dad said. “I had no idea you’d be involved. When we donated that dress, you weren’t in the picture.”

  “We?”

  “He’s going to find us if we don’t move.”

  Ruby cut in. “He’s right. We should stay in the trees.”

  Laura looked into the darkness. Old-growth oaks clustered in patches of grass cut by asphalt strips. None of that offered much cover, and they’d have to cross the Henry Hudson Parkway at some point. That meant either going up a hill and over the highway, which would get them killed, or going under the highly populated and well-lit overpass, where they’d be seen and potentially sliced open like Christmas hams.

  She could, of course, still go south on Riverside and be done with all of it, but she wasn’t going to leave him the way he’d left her, even if the pattern of her loyalty was colored with shades of spite.

  She realized Ruby and Dad were both waiting for her to decide what to do.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’m not running into traffic two times in twenty-four hours.” She darted to the next tree while Salvadore and Soso were too far away to see, a situation that wouldn’t last more than another minute, then she put her hands on her hips and asked Dad, “Where’s the dress?”

  “I’m sorry, Laura. You’re going to have to eat it.”