by Lynn Steward
Andrew smiled and shook his head. “Nope. Something more festive is in order for your birthday. Now go upstairs and change. That’s an order.”
“Sometimes you’re worse than a mother hen, Andrew Ricci. Even my mother, who is capable of being quite unyielding, wouldn’t ask me to change. Personally, I—”
Andrew held up the palms of both hands to signal that further protest from his colleague and friend was useless.
“I surrender!” Dana said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Would you mind taking Wills for a walk? We were on our way out when you arrived.”
Ten minutes later, Dana was wearing a blue and white Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress.
“That’s more like it!” Andrew said when he returned. “But wait a minute. Let me look at those shoes.”
“Now what?” Dana asked.
“They’re the sexiest slingbacks I’ve ever seen. Are they Chanel? Where did you get them?”
“Lady Continental.”
“They’re no proper lady’s shoe. You’re lookin’ good, kiddo. Thirty suits you.”
“Will you please stop! Let’s get going before I change my mind.”
After a brief taxi ride to La Grillade, Dana and Andrew entered the restaurant. Dana’s hope that the evening would be quiet and mercifully short wasn’t fully formed in her mind when she realized why Andrew had requested a change in wardrobe. She was walking into her surprise party.
“Surprise!” everyone shouted on cue.
“I’ll kill you, Andrew,” Dana mumbled out of the side of her mouth as she smiled at the applauding guests who were gathered in a private corner of the dining room. “Thank you!” Dana said warmly. “It’s a cliché, but I really had no idea.”
La Grillade, located on Eighth Avenue at 51st Street, was a pretty French restaurant decorated with dark wood, lace curtains, contemporary art, and enormous bouquets of flowers. Dana made the rounds, greeting Phoebe, Nina, Jack and Patti, and Max Helm and his wife. Meredith Varga, a friend of Dana’s from Cabrini College, arrived with Johnny.
“I got your last letter,” Dana told Meredith, touching her on the arm, “but we’ll have to catch up later.”
“Absolutely,” Meredith said. “I’m going to stay with the United Way but am considering a transfer to the New York office. I’ll tell you all about it when you have time, but there’s a good chance we might be neighbors soon.”
“That’s wonderful!” Dana exclaimed. “I can’t wait to hear the details.”
Ever the gentleman, Johnny had offered to pick up Meredith at her hotel, and although he didn’t regard her as a date per se, he dutifully guided her into conversation with the other guests to make her feel more relaxed. Meredith had a crush on Johnny when he attended Villanova, Cabrini being its sister school, but Johnny had been dating someone else.
“So, did I do good?” Andrew mischievously asked. “Isn’t this how you should be celebrating your—”
“Stop reminding me! Diana Vreeland told me not to count the candles! But yes, I’m happy to be with my dearest friends, and you’re the dearest of them all,” Dana said as she kissed Andrew and gave him a hug. “Thank you.”
Andrew bowed as he extended his hand towards the dinner party.
Dana was seated at a round table with Andrew and the eight guests he had invited.
Drinks were served and appetizers were ordered as the guests engaged in three different conversations. Andrew carefully avoided glancing at Jack, although he made sure to speak with Patti to avoid arousing suspicion. In turn, Jack joined in discussions with those not directly speaking with Andrew. He held forth about his recent relocation to New York while Patti and Meredith discussed their charitable work. Phoebe and Johnny talked of their father’s pending move to Manhattan, as well as Phoebe’s seminar in London.
“Everyone seems quite content for the moment,” Nina said, “so that leaves the three of us who toil for the glory of B. Altman. We haven’t been together for a powwow since we drove to Bucks County last December to buy Dana’s Christmas tree.”
“Yes, but tell us all about India, Nina,” Andrew said, alluding to the antique buyer’s month on the subcontinent to buy merchandise for the store’s Indian extravaganza.
“If I start in on India, I’ll talk for the next three hours,” Nina said laughing. “At some point it will become inevitable, but before I can’t control myself, I hear Dana has done a little globetrotting of her own. Tell me all about London.”
“Well, actually I had something of an epiphany while I was there, but Helen doesn’t share my artistic vision. I probably shouldn’t bore you with all the drama.”
“An epiphany?” Nina said. “Artistic vision? I’m intrigued! Tell me immediately!” Nina was an outspoken, gregarious woman who brushed away the mundane as others shooed away flies.
“If you insist,” Dana said. “It’s no secret that Helen put the kibosh on the Nantucket boutique the minute Dawn was out the door, so I suggested that instead of scrapping the entire concept, we modify the build-out to a British country boutique that would highlight color coordinated separates and knitwear.”
“Brilliant!” Nina declared. “A boutique inside the store? It’s a wonderful idea!”
“Not according to Helen,” Dana said. “To her, I’m nothing but a dreamer who needs to keep both feet planted on the ground.”
“My feet haven’t been on the ground for twenty years,” Nina proclaimed. “Thank God for dreamers!” Her voice was slightly raised from its previous conversational level.
Max, Phoebe, and Johnny had tuned in to Nina’s remarks.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Nina said. “I like Helen, but sometimes she can be downright—”
“Stubborn,” Andrew said.
“I was going to say rude,” Nina countered.
“She rejected the idea without discussion,” Dana confessed, “but I don’t see that I have any choice. With Dawn and Ira off to Bergdorf’s, I’m alone on this one. Helen said no one would buy into a tony British style, which is not at all what I meant. There’s nothing tony about Jaeger. It’s an understated, tasteful brand, and the look is timeless. That’s the boutique I see for B. Altman.”
“Absolutely!” Nina blurted out. “What’s wrong with her? I can see your vision, and I think it’s a wonderful idea!”
Dana, Andrew, and Nina now had the ear of everyone at the table.
“Dana, I agree,” Johnny said. “It’s a great idea! Or should I say another great idea that Helen shot down. Even our eveningwear is going in that direction. We looked at sketches last week for wool jersey shirtwaist gowns with belts. You’re right on.”
Dana sipped from her glass of Burgundy. “I know, I know! I even told Helen how Grace Mirabella would probably endorse us and that Bloomies will be opening five boutiques before the end of the year.” Dana shrugged, resigned to her superior’s decision. “Coordinating separates as Jaeger does would be hugely successful, but what can I say? Helen’s the gatekeeper.”
“The answer is simple,” Johnny said. “Find another gatekeeper.”
“Huh?” Dana said.
“I think you should join us at the House of Cirone. You can develop new business.”
All eyes on Dana, the table suddenly became quiet.
“I know you want to rescue me, Johnny,” Dana said, “but I have to work through this on my own.”
“Why? You get nothing but tsuris from Helen. She’s an obstructionist at every turn, and I don’t like the way she treats you. Dad would love you to join us.” Johnny took a sip of scotch before adding, “And so would I.”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine leaving B. Altman.”
“At least think about it. Hell, Ira and Dawn went to Bergdorf’s because they saw an opportunity. I think it’s high time you had some clout.”
Dana looked at Andrew, who said, “I can’t help you on this one. Would be a conflict of interest, plus I’m not impartial. I’d hate to see you go.”
Dana looked at Phoebe
next, whose smile and nod indicated that she agreed wholeheartedly with her brother.”
“I guess I’ll have to weigh my options,” Dana said.
Meredith raised her glass and offered a toast. “To old friendships and new opportunities!”
The guests again broke into separate conversations, but Dana was suddenly lost in thought. She knew Johnny’s offer was genuine and that Uncle John would indeed sign off on giving her a great deal of creative latitude. The House of Cirone was a manufacturer, not a store, but she might have enormous input into design, choice of fabrics, and even marketing to the buyers at major retailers throughout the country. Working with Johnny and his father might be the break she was looking for. Who knew how far her influence might one day extend? Perhaps an idea by Dana McGarry might even be embraced by the likes of Grace Mirabella or her contemporaries. This was heady wine, and Dana found it difficult to do anything more than smile and nod as Andrew and Nina talked about the Indian bazaar and other events at B. Altman.
The entrée course was served and conversation grew more animated as wine glasses were refilled. La Grillade’s specialties included poached striped bass, London broil, roast leg of lamb aux flageolets, and paupiettes of sole. Dana spoke and laughed with all of her friends, glad to be in their company. Her thoughts, however, never strayed far from Johnny’s intriguing offer.
It was over dessert—coffee, opera cake, and platters of macaroons—that Andrew turned to Dana. “You’re thinking seriously about Johnny’s suggestion, aren’t you?” he said.
“You know me too well,” Dana said almost dreamily. “And yes, I think I should at least consider it and talk to Johnny and Uncle John. I think I’ve gone as far as I can go at B. Altman. The freedom the House of Cirone would offer me is compelling.”
Andrew smiled wistfully. “I’ll support whatever you decide. And let’s face it. You’re being penalized for your youth, and that wouldn’t be the case with the Cirones.”
“I thought you were going to remain neutral.”
“Too much Burgundy, but I’m behind whatever you decide.”
“Thank you, Andrew, but I must take you to task over something.”
Andrew raised his eyebrows, puzzled.
“You’ve talked Patti’s arm off all evening, hardly speaking with Jack at all.”
“Guilty as charged. I’ll try to make amends, but right now I want to show you the second floor of the restaurant. It has a private dining room that you may want to keep in mind when you start wining and dining buyers.”
“Be right back,” Dana informed the table as she and Andrew stood. “I’m going to take a quick tour.”
“Take your time,” Max said. “Believe me—we’re not going anywhere.”
The table erupted in laughter that Dana attributed to the cocktails and wine served in the course of the evening.
Andrew led Dana to the rear of the main dining room and up a flight of stairs on the left.
“It’s the weekend, Andrew. I don’t want to barge in on anyone’s private party.”
“Not to worry. The manager told me that the room is empty this evening.”
Andrew opened the door and led Dana into a room that was almost completely dark. For the second time that night, Dana heard the shout of “Surprise!” as a glittery disco ball came to life and spun overhead in the middle of what was a very large room. As a disc jockey cranked up the music, lights began to strobe as Dana was welcomed by a new set of birthday revelers: buyers from the store, members of the marketing department, two grant managers from the Altman Foundation, classmates from Cabrini, and volunteers from the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
In happy disbelief, Dana tapped her fist on Andrew’s shoulder. “You got me again, Mr. Ricci.”
“I told you we weren’t going anywhere!” Max said.
Dana pivoted to see the dinner guests from downstairs coming through the doorway behind her.
Mark Senger emerged from the shadows and hugged Dana before kissing her on the cheek. “Room for one more?” he asked with his trademark sense of humor. “Personally, I’d hate to put on my resume that I couldn’t get into a disco party.”
Dana smiled and returned the kiss on the cheek. “Mark, thank you for coming. So nice to see you.”
“The bar is on the right, everyone!” Andrew called out. “Let’s party!”
Dana, of course, thanked the second wave of guests one by one, and when she’d finished the amenities, she approached Andrew at the bar and took a glass of champagne. “This is definitely over the top, Andrew. I can see why you wanted me to change!” She looked at the room, people sliding across the center of the dance floor.
“Well, you won’t be surprised to learn that it was Johnny’s idea to rent the disco. Nobody likes to party like Johnny.”
“I’m lucky to have such good friends, Andrew. I am grateful for so much.”
“Then show Johnny you’re having a good time and let’s start dancing!”
Dana cocked her head quickly from side to side and held out both arms. “I have no choice!” She was feeling better than she had since returning to New York. “I can do this!”
Andrew and Dana took the dance floor as Johnny mingled with women who’d gone to Cabrini. Phoebe, who had refrained from drinking at dinner, said a quick goodbye as the music grew louder since she began a seventy-two hour call rotation the following morning at New York Hospital. Patti and Jack danced next to Dana and Andrew but, after several moves, Jack managed to spin his wife to the far side of the floor, putting distance between himself and Andrew.
After ten minutes, Mark approached with a wide grin. “I don’t know if the term applies to disco, but I’ll have to cut in here, Andrew. I can’t let you have all the fun.”
“She’s all yours,” Andrew said above the music.
Mark put his left hand on his hip while raising his right arm in the air, spinning in a circle as he did so.
“You’re good!” Dana cried.
“It’s not that difficult,” Mark replied.
Dana laughed, and the pair danced to the Bee Gees’ “Jive Talkin’” and “Night Fever.”
“How about a drink?” Mark asked as a new song blared from the speakers.
“Good idea,” Dana said.
At the bar, Mark, who had light brown hair, blue eyes, and an athletic build, looked at the guests and sighed. “At least no one is wearing a green polyester leisure suit.”
Dana laughed, “No, not this crowd. Parochial schools and jobs at B. Altman. Not a chance. But they’ve got the moves.”
“Yep. I’d say they’re having a good time,” Mark said, raising his glass and turning to Dana with a big smile. “Best wishes for an exciting new decade, birthday girl.”
Returning the smile, Dana said, “I’m ready. It’s time for a new chapter.”
Mark, aware that she was referring to her pending divorce, quickly changed the subject.
“I hear you were in London last week. See any plays?”
“I did! I stayed at the Lansdowne Club. They had extra tickets to the opening of The Importance of Being Earnest at the Theatre Royal. It was wonderful! Dame Flora Robson came out of retirement to play Miss Prism. It was one of those special evenings.”
“Did you go with Phoebe?” Mark asked. “Andrew said she was there for a cardiology convention.”
“No, I went alone, but I’m glad Phoebe could join me to see Equus at the Old Vic. Now that it’s won a Tony, it’ll be impossible to get tickets.”
“What did you think of Equus?” Mark asked.
“I’m still reflecting on it,” Dana answered somberly. “That’s why I’m glad Phoebe was with me. We had a late supper and talked about the characters for an hour and a half. She’s so smart and her thoughts about Dr. Dysart led us to explore feelings about our personal goals for a fulfilled life. Have you seen it?”
“Yes. Anthony Hopkins was outstanding as Dysart. I couldn’t go right home either. You need to discuss it.”
“That’s how I feel about foreign films, so many layers to peel away. Do you like foreign films? Do have a favorite foreign director?”
“Gosh, do I have to name just one? Hmmmm. Everyone likes Fellini, of course. I loved the Italian vignettes from Amarcord, but I think my favorite is … “ He paused, as if thinking of film titles, although in reality he had decided not to name Juliet of the Spirits, a mystical film about a woman’s decision to leave her unfaithful husband. “Well, it’s a tie between Sweet Charity—what great choreography by Bob Fosse—and La Dolce Vita.”
Dana rolled her eyes good-naturedly. I think La Dolce is overrated, but there’s no denying that Fellini is a genius.”
“And you?” Mark asked. “Which directors do you like?”
“Truffaut, hands down,” Dana said. “Day for Night was brilliant in its simplicity. A movie about making a movie. Jules et Jim is perhaps my favorite, but what range Truffaut has. He even did Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451.”
“Bradbury is a national treasure. Much more than a science fiction writer, in my estimation. Something Wicked This Way Comes has been heralded as a literary epic rather than mere sci-fi. His prose style is highly inventive.”
“When it comes to literary fiction,” Dana said, “I’m a fan of ——-
“That will be quite enough,” Andrew said as he grabbed Dana by the arm. “We’re here to dance.”
Dana stuck out her lower lip and exhaled, causing her bangs to fly upwards. “No rest for the weary,” she said.
“Happy birthday!” Mark said, raising his glass.
Over the course of the next hour, Dana danced with many of the guests, but her gaze kept returning to Mark as he spoke with Max as well as people from the store. She noticed that he commanded their attention with his mannerisms and facial expressions or had them laughing out loud and wiping tears from their eyes. He occasionally looked in Dana’s direction and winked, thumbs up, as if to say “nice dance move!”
During a much-needed break from the dancing, Dana noticed Mark approaching her again.
“I have to be on my way,” he said, taking her hand in his. “But once again, happy birthday. I’ll let you know if I find out that anything unusual is playing at the Paris or the Plaza. They have some great foreign and independent films. I hear Lina Wertmüller has one coming out called Seven Beauties.”
