by Mary McHugh
We both laughed. That’s another thing I missed with George. We didn’t laugh any more. Everything was so serious and difficult.
My croque madame came, and it was fantastic. I’ve eaten a lot of croques monsieurs in my life in French restaurants because they are so much more satisfying than regular sandwiches, but I haven’t had many croque madames. I didn’t feel I needed that fried egg on top of all those other calories, but this one was especially good. Mike was less enthusiastic, but he saw how much I like it and asked the waitress for the recipe, which she brought just as we were finishing our lunches.
“Do you have to go right back?” he asked. “There’s some place I want to take you.”
I looked at my watch. I still had about forty minutes before I had to be back at the theater.
“If it won’t take too long, Mike,” I said. “What is it?”
“It’s one of my favorite places in the city. Come on, we have to hurry.”
He paid the bill, and the waitress gave me the recipe for my croque madame.
Mike found a cab right away and told the driver to take us to Fifty-Third Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues.
“Stop here, please,” Mike said when we came to the entrance to a little park. A sign said it was called Paley Park, named in honor of the father of William Paley, the television executive.
Mike took my hand and led me into this miniature park with a waterfall on one side. It made a soft noise that muffled the other sounds of the city. If you closed your eyes you wouldn’t know you were in New York. There were honey locust trees all around the park and ivy climbing up the two walls on either side. A few people were seated in the chairs next to the marble tables. They didn’t even look up as we came in. They were reading or eating or just sitting there peacefully enjoying the respite from the noise and fast pace of the city.
Mike took me over to a spot near the waterfall where no one could see us and kissed me.
“I thought this could be our own place when we only had a few minutes to be together,” he said. “I could call you and say, ‘Meet me in the park,’ and we could have a few minutes alone here. It’s only a short walk to the Music Hall from here. What do you think?”
“Oh Mike, I think it’s a lovely idea.” I knew I shouldn’t say yes, but it seemed so right. I wanted to stay with him forever. I loved him. I couldn’t help it. I loved this good, kind, funny man more than my husband.
We sat down at one of the tables and held hands. The waterfall was the perfect background to my thoughts. We didn’t talk, just relaxed into the peace of that moment, our closeness. No matter what happened between us, we would have this to remember later on.
After a while, I looked at my watch and stood up.
“I’ve got to get back, Mike,” I said. “Thank you for this.”
“I’ll walk you back,” he said, and took my hand to lead me out of Paley Park.
When we got back to the theater, he said, “Tomorrow?”
“Probably,” I said. “Let’s see what happens.” I knew I’d see him, no matter what happened.
I ran into the theater, and Pat was the only one on stage. She was struggling to put on her heavy jacket when I joined her.
“These things are impossible,” I said.
“They’re terrible!” she said.
“How did David like the zoo?” I asked.
“He loved it,” she said. “And so did I. I’m so glad he has the week off from school so I can take him places I love. It’s a wonderful zoo. He’s such a great kid. We both loved the seals. They clowned for us, diving off rocks into the water, jumping up to be fed. And David liked the polar bears. They swim around and push their noses against the glass. There were snow monkeys in the trees and leopards. I’d forgotten how much fun it is to go to a zoo. David was worried that it was bad for the animals to be confined like that, but after he saw them in this natural environment, he felt better about them.”
“He sounds like a wonderful boy,” I said. “You and Denise must enjoy him a lot
“We do, Mary Louise,” I said. “One of the best things about loving Denise is having her son David in my life. I really think of him as my own.I’m so lucky.”
I was silent, distracted. She read my mind. Pat always knows when something is wrong.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked.
“Maybe later when we have more time,” I said. “I really need to talk to you, Pat. I’m so confused about Mike.”
“I thought so,” she said. “I know how much he means to you. I saw you with him in Spain.”
“And he means even more now. When we’re together, I—”
“Hey there you two,” Janice said, jumping up on the stage, interrupting me. She couldn’t stop moving. She twirled around the stage, did a couple of cartwheels, hugged me, then sat down next to us, a big smile on her face.
“Okay, Jan,” Pat said. “What’s happening? You just had lunch with Tom, right?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she said. “And guess what? You’ll never guess.”
“You’re going to marry him,” Pat said.
She might as well have punched Janice in the stomach. All the excitement disappeared.
“Oh, Pat, I wanted to tell you,” Janice said.
Pat reached over and touched her arm. “I’m sorry, Jan. Forgive me. Forget I said that. Tell us your news.”
Janice revved up again just as Tina and Gini joined us on stage. They saw the look on Jan’s face, heard Pat ask for her news, and sat down with us.
“Tell us too,” Tina said.
“Yeah, Jan, what?” Gini said.
“Tom and I are getting married!” Jan said, so loudly Danielle came running from her office.
“Who’s gettting married?” she asked.
Tina filled her in quickly about Tom and Janice’s long romance that had lasted through his marriage and a couple of hers and was finally going to end up in their own union.
“Congratulations!” Danielle said. “I hope you’ll be as happy as I’ve been with Phil.”
“Is your husband a dancer too?” I asked her.
“No, he’s an accountant,” she said. She looked around. Then she said, almost in a whisper, “We’re going to have a baby. Don’t tell anyone, though. No one’s supposed to know.”
“Why not?” Janice asked.
“Well,”—and again, Danielle looked around—“see, you’re not supposed to dance with the Rockettes if you’re pregnant. Glenna told me when she hired me that if I got pregnant, I’d be fired. I need this job, so I didn’t tell her. Last week, though, she said something about my gaining weight and that I’d better cut down on calories.”
“So how come you’re still here?” Gini asked. “She was bound to find out pretty soon.”
“I don’t have to worry about that any more,” Danielle said. “Marlowe’s okay with it.” She quickly added, “Not that I’m glad Glenna is dead. I mean . . . I’m sorry she was . . .” She sort of fluttered to a stop.
I couldn’t help but think there were two Rockettes who were glad Glenna was dead—Andrea, who wanted to keep working at her outside job at the Frick and still dance with the Rocketttes in the Christmas show, and Danielle, who also wanted to keep dancing in the show and keep her baby. Maybe . . . no, that was preposterous. They couldn’t be murderers. They were too nice. If I’d said that to George, he would have said, “Nobody’s too nice to be a murderer, Mary Louise.” I thought of all the articles I’d read in the paper about people who took the lives of several victims, and when the neighbors were asked about him, they always said, “He was such a nice young man—so shy and nice to his mother.”
“Tell us more, Janice,” Danielle said, changing the subject. “When are you getting married?”
“When I finish dancing in the Christmas show with you guys,” she said, getting up and twirling around a couple of times. Janice is just irresistible when she’s happy. Beautiful and radiant. We all felt her joy.
“What’s happening when y
ou’re finished dancing with us?” Nevaeh said coming onto the stage. “Must be something sensational. Can I come too?”
“ ’Fraid not, Nevaeh,” Jan said, laughing. “I’m getting married.”
“Wonderful,” she said. “I’m so happy for you.”
Marlowe strode onto the stage, her face as stony as always. “Why aren’t you rehearsing?” she asked, sobering us all up. “You should be practicing in those Santa jackets. There’s no time to sit around chatting.”
“Oh, Marlowe,” Janice said, “I just got engaged. I’m afraid I’m the one who held us up from rehearsing.
“Congratulations,” Marlowe said, still her usual unemotional self. Janice might as well have told her she bought new shoes. “Now, if we can get started with what we’re here for. You five have a long way to go before you’ll be ready to dance with the Rockettes.”
Our ecstatic mood dribbled away. We picked up our dead-weight jackets and struggled into them. Marlowe turned on the music, and “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” blared forth. I was beginning to get sick of that song, sick of these heavy jackets, sick of the whole idea of this show. I could tell by the expressions on my friends’ faces, they felt the same way. We usually have fun when we’re dancing. It’s what we all love best in the world. We’re called the Happy Hoofers, not the Boo-Hoo Dancers. We still had another month of rehearsals before the first show and two more months after that. It was the first time in my life I didn’t want to dance.
But I had to. I put a smile on my face and dragged my fat-stomached body through the song.
Marlowe frowned at us. “I know you’re all used to looking happy when you dance,” she said. “I suppose that’s why you call yourselves the Happy Hoofers. Well, you can forget those smiley faces while you’re dancing here. You’ll be wearing a white Santa Claus beard that covers your entire face, so you can get rid of those phony grins.”
Why was this woman so nasty? What had we ever done to her? I couldn’t figure it out. Gini, of course, came right out and confronted her.
“What’s your problem, Marlowe?” she asked. “You always seem to be mad at us for some reason. Is it something we did, or said, or what?”
Marlowe glared at her. “Well, if you must know,” she said, “I wasn’t in favor of hiring you in the first place. I don’t believe in outsiders dancing with the Rockettes. We’re famous for our perfection, and with all due respect, you’re not exactly perfect. Nowhere near. I have a lot of problems managing eighty dancers for the show, and I just don’t have time to nurse you Hoofers through your performance.”
“We may not be so great right now,” Gini said, her irritation showing, “but we learn fast. We work hard, and we can do anything you ask us to do. This is only our third day, so we could use a little more help from you. And maybe an encouraging word or two, if you can manage that.”
“Sorry about that,” Marlowe said, not looking at all sorry. “I have too much to do to worry about whether I’m coddling you enough. Just follow Danielle’s instructions and you’ll be okay.” She turned away abruptly and went backstage, where we could see Shelli waiting for her.
Danielle took one look at our downcast expressions and tried to boost our spirits. “You’re doing fine, Hoofers,” she said. “Don’t let Marlowe discourage you. She tends to be—what should I say—uh, on the pessimistic side. Come on, let’s try it one more time. Then I’ll let you take off those jackets and do some push-ups.”
Whoopee! I thought. Push-ups! I found it hard to get out of the gloomy spell Marlowe had cast on us.
The music started. We pulled ourselves together, and took our Santas through another time coming to town. I used to love that song.
“Not bad, guys,” Danielle said when we finished. “Take off the jackets, and we’ll work on your muscles so the forty pounds will be easier to dance with.”
She smiled at us and stripped down to her leotard.
She waited until we were all ready and then said, “Okay, one-two- three, push . . . ohhhhhh.” She sat up and grabbed her abdomen. Her face was contorted in pain. “Call my doctor,” she said to Neveah, who was exercising with us.
Neveah picked up Danielle’s phone and speed-dialed her doctor.
“It’s Danielle,” she said. “She’s in trouble. Pains. Yes, doctor, I’ll tell her.”
“He’s sending an ambulance right away, honey,” she said to Danielle when she hung up. “Hang in there.”
Danielle was doubled over in pain. “I can’t lose this baby too,” she said. “I lost my last one in the third month. This one means everything to me.”
“What hospital is she going to?” I asked Neveah.
“New York Hospital,” she said, holding Danielle.
“My friend, Mike Parnell is the head obstetrician there,” I said. “I’ll call him. He might be able to speed things up.”
Danielle nodded. She was in too much pain to speak.
I called Mike, who answered immediately, and told him what was happening.
“I’ll clear things here right away, Mary Louise,” he said. “Her doctor is excellent. I’ll do everything I can to help him.”
I told Danielle what he had said, and she groaned a thank-you.
By this time, some of the other Rockettes had come onto the stage. They were all obviously fond of Danielle, and their faces reflected their concern.
“You’ll be all right, honey,” one of them said to Danielle. “We’ll all say a prayer for you.”
The ambulance made it across town in fifteen minutes. The medics put Danielle on a stretcher. They worked quickly and efficiently and had her in the van in a few minutes.
“I want to come with you,” I said to Danielle. She grabbed my hand and nodded.
“Is that okay with you?” I asked the medics.
“Sure, come on,” they said, and I climbed into the back of the van next to Danielle.
“I just can’t lose this baby,” she said, her voice choked with tears. “. . . ohhhhhh. It hurts.”
“Don’t talk,” I said, holding her hand. “Dr. Parnell is fantastic. He’ll do everything to help your doctor. Between them, they’ll save your baby.”
“Call Phil,” she said when she could talk. She handed me her phone.
I clicked on her husband’s number. He answered immediately. I explained what was happening, and he said, “I’ll be right there. Let me speak to Danielle.”
I handed the phone to her and whatever he said, made her smile in spite of the pain. “Thank you, love,” she said and hung up. “He’s coming to the . . . ohhhh.” She held onto her stomach and moaned.
Please, God, I prayed, save this baby for Danielle.
He’s helped me so many times in my life that I hoped He would come through this time too.
Danielle quieted down for the last few minutes it took to get to the hospital. Mike and Danielle’s doctor were waiting at the emergency room entrance. They led the medics carrying Danielle into the hospital.
“Is it okay if I come in, Mike?” I asked him.
“Of course,” he said, not looking at me, just clearing the way for Danielle to get into the emergency room.
I sat down on a chair outside the room they put her in and prayed again. Mike wouldn’t let anything happen to that baby. If anyone could keep that baby alive, he could. I realized as I sat there that I not only loved this man, I respected his talent as a doctor. He was a life-giving man. A life-saving man. He truly cared for the women who were his patients. He rejoiced with them every time a baby came into this world.
I sat there for an hour, waiting for news.
When Mike came out, he took off his mask. He was smiling.
“The baby decided to stay with his mom,” Mike said.
“Oh, Mike,” I said, trying to talk through my tears, “thank you.”
“I just cleared the way,” he said. “It was her doctor who did the real work. He saved the baby.”
“How’s Danielle?” I asked, dabbing at my eyes with a tissue.
>
“She’s fine,” he said. “She wants to see you.”
I stood up to go into the room with her.
“I’ll take you out of here when you’re finished talking to Danielle,” Mike said. “Take your time.”
I went into the room, and a man with dark hair and kind brown eyes, stood up and held out his hand.
“Are you Mary Louise?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I’m Phil,” he said. I shook his hand.
“I’m so glad to meet you,” I said. “I’ve heard so many good things about you.”
I went over to the bed and took Danielle’s hand.
“Are you okay, Danielle?” I asked.
“Now I am,” she said. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for calling Dr. Parnell. My doctor is wonderful, but Dr. Parnell speeded up the whole process. I still have my baby! Thank you, Mary Louise.” She pulled my face down to hers and kissed my cheek.
“I’m so glad your baby is all right,” I said. “I knew Mike would help.”
“Are you in love with him?” Danielle asked.
“Yes,” I said. It was the first time I had admitted that to anybody outside of the Hoofers.
“Are you going to marry him?”
Good question. Was I going to divorce George and marry him?
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m married to someone else.”
“Not so easy for you,” she said.
“No,” I said. “I’ve been married for thirty years, and we have three children.”
“Oh honey, that’s a real problem.” she said.
“I’ll work it out,” I said. “You’d better get some rest. I’ll see you back at the theater.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “I think I’m going to quit the show. I don’t want to take a chance on losing this baby. I came too close today. I think I’ll just stay home and look after Phil.”
“Fine with me,” he said, leaning over to kiss her.
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” I said. “But I’ll miss you.”
“We can still be friends,” she said. “Especially after today.” She lowered her voice and pulled me closer. “There’s something I need to tell you, Mary Louise. Something about Glenna’s death. I have to tell somebody, and I’d like it to be you.”
