by Jill G. Hall
“Well, what?”
“Don’t you have a question?” She smiled at him.
He swallowed hard. Usually so self-assured, his hands shook. For someone who knew what the answer would be, he sure looked nervous. “Big Foot, will you marry me?”
“Of course!” She laughed and kissed him.
He slid the ring onto her finger. “It fits perfectly!”
“Of course it does!” She laughed again.
He pulled her up into his arms, twirled her around, and kissed her. “I love you!”
“I love you, too. And I love this.” She held out her hand, studying the diamond’s marquise shape.
“I hope you adore it, because you’ll be wearing it for the rest of your life.”
“I do, it’s magnificent.”
“It was Nonna’s. The shape represents a seed, symbolic of a fruitful life together. She had twelve children.”
“Twelve! I doubt we’ll have that many. And I’m not ready to start a family yet.” Anne smiled at him, but for some reason she felt uneasy.
“You will be when the time is right. You’ll be a wonderful mother. I hope our children have your smile, your wild hair, and even your big feet. I’m glad you want to move to New York and settle down with me.”
She couldn’t wait to tell her family and friends the amazing news.
49
Where are you going?” Clair’s father asked for the hundredth time.
“I told you, to my job at the Grimmons Shirt Factory.” Clair hated to lie, but she had no choice.
“Isn’t that dress a little fancy for work?” he asked.
She wore the same frock every day. “Not at all. We’ve been told by the management to always look our best.” Clair got her coat, hat, and gloves and went to the door.
“When Farley comes back, you won’t need to work. He’ll take care of us.”
Oh, for goodness’ sake! It had been months since they’d seen Farley. If he’d planned to show up, he would have done so by now. Besides, she loved her job and was providing for them just fine. Her father would not be able to force her to accept Farley in their lives ever again.
Aunt June came out of the kitchen and kissed her on the cheek. “Have a good evening, dear.”
Stepping out into the late afternoon, Clair pulled her coat close around her. Spring had almost arrived, but the leaves hadn’t begun to sprout yet, and a chilly pall still hung over the once-glamorous city.
At St. Peter’s Mission, the breadline wrapped around the corner. A woman held a baby, and two other children clung to her skirt. A brunette in a fancy hat and fur coat stood in line next to her. At least Clair had been able to help keep her family sustained through her meager pay.
Folks needed a diversion, and Broadway theaters were still packing them in. Rudy’s Rollicking Review had done well at first, despite the steep competition. But two months ago Rudy’s ticket sales began to dwindle, and the houses were only half-full for most shows. It seemed as if they were destined to close down, but Rudy mysteriously came up with the cash to stage a brand spanking new production.
“Something that will really wow them this time!” he’d said. Encouraged by audience applause during Winnie’s number and Andre’s pleading, Rudy had loosened up on his decency rule.
Opening night was tomorrow, and Clair had been sewing costumes for the new acts like mad. She only had twenty-four more hours to finish. Every chance she got, Clair watched the rehearsals and silently followed along, feeling the keys under her fingers as Mordecai played. She practiced the dance steps and knew every word to every song, too.
Everyone had at least two jobs except her. Even Nook had been trained to take over another task. To keep him busy and out of mischief, Rudy had dubbed him Chief Curtain Curator in addition to his role as Acrobat Extraordinaire.
She stopped out front and studied the marquee. Rudy’s Rollicking Review had been changed to Rudy’s Ritzy Review, and Rudy’s Cuties were now called the Sophisticated Sallies.
Clair slipped into the dressing room through the alley door. Even though she’d swept the night before, the floor was covered in debris as if someone had dumped and spread trash all around. The cacophony of noise hummed with energy. The Sallies vocalized “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” Nook coached Ping and Pang on the hopping stick, and Winnie sat in a corner with her eyes closed, breathing deeply.
“Seen Varinska? Clair asked Winnie. “I’ve got to do a final fitting on her gown.”
Winnie shook her head and continued breathing.
Clair ran up the stairs and stepped onstage, a spotlight hitting her. Mordecai struck a chord and played an introduction as if she was a real star. She laughed, twirled her long willowy body in a circle, and curtsied as if to a crowd.
“What’ll it be?” Mordecai asked.
“How about ‘The Man on the Flying Trapeze’?”
As his fingers began, she floated across the stage, singing louder than she ever had before. Her voice reverberated all the way to the back of the theater: “With the greatest of ease.”
Dancing across the stage, she followed Rudy’s rhythmic cues in her mind. Strut, strut, strut it! This strutting felt so great.
Mordecai clapped his small hands. “Clair, your voice is clear as moonlight.”
“Thank you, kind sir!” She curtsied. Hearing someone else clapping, she looked up and spotted Andre high above her on a ladder, adding finishing touches to the new backdrop.
“Lovely—you can really project! You’re full of surprises.” Andre drew out the last three words.
She could never tell when he was teasing her. “So are you.” She pointed at the backdrop, black-and-white piano keys flying every which way. It looked pretty good.
“Merci.” Andre swirled his arm and almost lost his balance, but caught himself.
The house lights went up to full. Rudy stood in the back row. “Andre, are the new shoes here yet?”
“No, sir. When I called yesterday they promised they were on their way.”
“Call them again.” Rudy walked down the aisle and climbed the stairs in front of Clair. “I need to talk to you.”
She hoped he wasn’t angry with her for taking up precious time.
He frowned. “The new show is almost up, the costumes are done, and I’m dead broke.” His eyes softened. “I’m sorry, but I’ll need to let you go after tomorrow.”
Her hands flew to her face, and she held back tears. “What about the costumes?”
“The cast can mend their own darn outfits, and hang them up, too.”
“I’ve got other skills, Rudy. I’m good at math and can help with the accounts,” Clair begged.
“Sorry.” He looked down. “I wish it could be any other way.”
The next afternoon, Clair dragged her feet as she walked to the theater, a shawl of gloom surrounding her body. It would be next to impossible to find another job, especially one she felt so fully a part of.
At the theater, a deliveryman stood under the marquee holding a big box.
“Think it’s any good?” the deliveryman asked Clair.
“Don’t miss it!” She smiled at him. “Shall I take that box?”
He shook his head. “Mr. LeRue needs to sign for it himself.”
“Come on.” Since the front entrance was still locked, she took him through the alley to the propped open door. “Andre!” she called.
He rushed over, signed for the box, and opened it. “Sallies! They’re here.”
Olga, Henrietta, Bea, and Dominique squealed and ran over. Varinska glanced over and shook her head.
Andre checked for sizes and handed out the shoeboxes. Ping, Pang, Nook, and Winnie wandered over to watch. As the Sallies pulled the shoes out, they sparkled in the light, and everyone gasped.
“Ooh,” Nook said.
The dancers hurriedly slipped them on, clasped the T-straps, and tested them with the time step.
Clair stared. The shoes were the rhinestone-covered ones from the shop window! How
she wished she could try on a pair, too.
Rudy came down the stairs. “The shoes! What a relief.”
“Yes!” Andre check-marked the air with his finger.
“They cost me an arm and a leg. Gather ’round, folks!”
The entire cast and crew huddled together. Clair thought to herself that this would be the last time she would get to be part of this group. She would sure miss it. Winnie hadn’t said anything to her about it. Perhaps she hadn’t heard yet.
“This is what we’ve all been working toward.” Rudy studied his clipboard. “Sallies, slow down and milk it! Finish your solo steps, pose, and wait for the audience to consider what they’ve viewed. They’ll clap louder each time, even if the trick wasn’t better than the one before. Now get dressed, get up there, and give it all you’ve got!”
One last time, Clair handed out the costumes from the rack. The Sallies donned their shiny outfits and ran up the stairs sounding like a herd of ponies. Clack, clack, clack went their new taps. The opening song had been nixed, and the Sallies were up first.
Andre followed them up, and a few minutes later he poked his head in the dressing room, hands aflutter. “Where’s Mordecai?”
Varinska shrugged.
“Don’t know.” Winnie turned so Clair could tie the sash.
Andre flew back up the stairs as Mordecai staggered in from the alley reeking of booze. “Yes sir, she’s my baby,” he sang.
He started to keel over onto the costume rack, but Clair caught him by the arm. “Winnie, help!”
Winnie rushed over and took his other arm.
Varinska frowned. “Vell, he’s done it. Vhy got shooed from midget show. Must toppled off vagon.”
“What made him do it? Too much pressure with the new show?” Winnie asked.
They heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
“Kvick, put under table.” Varinska pulled out the bench. Winnie dragged him under, and Clair covered him up with her coat from the rack. Then they slid the bench back in place and sat down on it. Nonchalantly, Varinska touched up her lipstick.
Rudy stood in the doorway. “It’s a full house, Win! How’s my kewpie doll? Can I escort you up?”
“I’m fine, Rudy. Fine.”
From under the table, Mordecai started to sing again. “Yes sir . . .”
Winnie sang over him as loud as she could. “He’s my baby. No sir, I don’t mean maybe.” She got up, slipped her arm through Rudy’s, and walked him toward the stairs.
Andre dashed in. “Rudy, we’ve got a problem.”
“Now what?” Rudy threw his hands up.
“I can’t find Mordecai.”
“But he was here earlier.”
“I’ve looked everywhere.” Andre shook his head.
“We’ll be ruined. It’s too late to get another piano player,” Rudy grumbled.
“I can do it.” The words came out of Clair’s mouth before she even realized it.
Winnie looked at her friend. “You can? You never told me you played piano.”
“I used to occasionally tickle the ivories.” Clair smiled. Her heart beat fast, hoping she’d be up to the task.
Rudy shook his head. “Gal pal. You are full of surprises.”
Andre laughed. “Sure are.”
“Clair, get up there!” Rudy yelled.
“Yes, sir.” She stood.
Rudy cringed. “Wait! Find something a little more theatrical to wear. Andre, you go up and tell the cast Clair is taking over, and we’ll start in five minutes.”
Mordecai began to sing again. “Yes sir . . .”
Varinska kicked him under the table.
“That’s my baby,” Winnie sang to drown him out again, guiding Rudy up the stairs.
Clair found a black sequined gown in the back room, threw it on, and rushed up the stairs. At the piano, she slipped off Mordecai’s foot-pedal blocks and nodded at the band members, who were gaping at her. She reached for the sheet music, but it wasn’t there. She searched the floor and shuffled through the piano bench, but to no avail.
In tux and tails, Rudy stood before the curtains in the spotlight. “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to our brand-new show, Rudy’s Ritzy Review. It’s going to really knock your socks off. First up, I give you the Sophisticated Sallies.”
Clair’s heart beat as fast as the hi-hat drum cymbals beside her. Without the music she wouldn’t be able to play and they would be ruined, all because of her. She just couldn’t let her friends down.
“The Sophisticated Sallies!” Rudy glared down at her and gestured toward the orchestra pit.
Clair placed her hands on the keyboard, took a breath, and closed her eyes. She hit a few bad notes with a cringe, but then her fingers took over and automatically knew the right ones to touch. Her maestro had once told her she didn’t need sheet music at all, and to her surprise, she realized he had been right. Her heart knew the right notes to play.
She opened her eyes as the Sallies tip-tapped onto the stage. It was hard to tell them apart. In identical blonde bob wigs with silver half-moon caps, each still wore a white blouse but now with sequined shorts. Clair’s fingers had no problem keeping up with the dancers, especially when they started to sing “Puttin’ on the Ritz.” Their voices harmonized beautifully.
The new shoes dazzled Clair’s eyes! The routine used the same steps, but this time hoops were added. The Sallies twirled them in their arms and on their legs, then posed in synchronized fashion. By the second chorus, she relaxed into the melody and enjoyed the rhythm of the music.
The show flew by. To tighten the show, Ping and Pang and Nook’s acts had been combined. The twins did their contortions sweetly in their new lime-green leotards. Nook, in a matching leotard and black sequined bow tie, hopped around the girls on the stick. Due to invisible elastic, the top hat actually stayed on his head as he did his flips.
Winnie made everyone laugh as usual in her even more giant hat and kelly-green dress. If she grew any stouter, Clair would need to let it out soon. Rudy never seemed to mind. All he’d say was, “That’s more of her to love.”
With this new show, Bea and Dominique each had a solo act, too.
Bea sis-boom-bahed onstage in a Cleopatra costume, complete with a gold asp headband over a veil—her made-up eyes peeking out, wide and mysterious. She danced as if a hieroglyphic goddess, moving her head side to side, over to a basket on center stage. Doing a rumba, she pulled a taxidermy snake out, draped it across her shoulders, and flirted, as if she might kiss it. At first Rudy had brought in a real snake to use, but the girls and Andre screamed for him to take it away. Varinska had only laughed.
With Dominique’s entrance, Clair began to play Saint-Saëns’ Le cygne. Turns out Dominique had been a ballet dancer with the Paris Opera. She tiptoed onstage wearing a tutu and pointe shoes, fluttering her arms as if she were a dying swan. She batted her eyelashes, convincing the audience of her regal sadness.
Clair changed the tempo. Dominique ripped off her costume, leaned back, and spun the pasties on her bosoms. Then she turned and twirled the tassels on her bum faster and faster in a hypnotizing fashion. The audience’s eyes—men and women alike—nearly popped out of their heads. Clair chuckled. Even though she’d watched Dominique do this a dozen times, it still made her laugh.
The theater grew dark once more, and Rudy’s voice reverberated behind the curtain to a drumroll. “From the far-off reaches of Europe. In darkest of nights, I give you Varinska the Vamp.”
Clair’s fingers quickly splayed the introductory glissade as the curtains opened and a spotlight hit Varinska center stage. Andre had convinced Rudy to lose the gypsy costume. Now a stunning vision, Varinska’s silk shawl had been draped, like a turban, over her long hair. She wore a slinky midnight-blue gown and a sapphire necklace at her throat.
Clair waited for the applause to die down. She focused. This would be a challenge. Every time Varinska rehearsed it, she changed her number slightly. Clair began to play Varinska’s signature Hung
arian tune at a slow tempo. Varinska sang close to the microphone, her sultry voice alluring. She raised a questioning eyebrow to a man in the front row and swayed back and forth in rhythm. At the end she held her last note as long as possible, and Clair played two alternating keys quietly in the background.
The stage went dark. The clapping and hooting were so loud Clair could barely hear the piano, but she kept playing anyway. Varinska did three curtain calls, the spotlight blinking on and off each time, and at last the applause died down. Clair dreamed that someday she could have just one person feel that way about her, let alone a whole audience.
During the curtain call, when the entire cast opened their arms toward the band, Clair took a bow, feeling as if she’d died and gone to heaven.
Clair quickly changed into her street clothes. No way could she face saying goodbye to the cast. She started to slip out the back door, but Rudy caught her by the arm. “Thank you for saving us. You did a fine job.”
“May I return tomorrow, in case Mordecai doesn’t come?”
“That’s a good idea. But I won’t be able to pay you.”
50
The next afternoon, Clair entered through the lobby and sat in the back of the theater.
“Sallies, did you see this?” From the stage, Rudy picked up a newspaper, waved it in the air, and read, “While the Sophisticated Sallies looked dazzling in their shimmery costumes, they didn’t live up to their name.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bea squeaked.
“It means you stink!” Winnie hollered. She swatted Nook’s shoulder in front of her to stop him from pulling Ping’s pigtails.
Clair had read the review that morning. It had said Winnie was wonderful, Nook and the twins darling, Varkinska certainly a vamp, and of course, Bea and Dominique titillating.
Bea crossed her eyes at Winnie.
Dominique stood up. “We’ll do better tonight.”
“You’d better! Let’s get a run-through in before we open the house. I’m changing the sequence of the show. Varinksa, you go on right after the Sallies.” He put his hand over his forehead. “Varinska!”
“Haven’t seen her,” Henrietta called.
