“I’m Vivian.” I put out my hand and shake his daintily. His palm is drenched with sweat.
“Hello, V-v-v-v-vivian.”
Frank starts his announcements in the background. They’re boring and slow, and it’s nothing like the city clubs where the bandleader is as much of the entertainment as the musicians. But even with his monotone and literal reading of the rule book, the crowd listens attentively.
It’s a hot room tonight, and I can’t wait to get in front of it. For now, I’ll settle for a quick dance or two with Winnie before my performance. It’ll help to keep my mind off the stacked-up boxes in my rhetorical closet. I look up at Winnie and bat my eyelashes, hoping he’ll seize this opportunity to heroically ask for a dance instead of waiting for me to drag him onto the dance floor.
Just as he pushes his glasses up and opens his mouth—Private Gary Talbot from the front gate at Camp Atterbury taps me on the shoulder.
“Look who we’ve got here—the famous Vivian Snow.” Gary smells faintly of alcohol, and though he’s not drunk, it’s clear he’s on his way there. He’s not the first soldier to sneak in a beverage, and it’s usually tolerated as long as they keep their hands to themselves and don’t get too sloppy.
“Talbot,” I say coolly.
“You charming this young soldier? That’s not really fair. He’s brand-new here, and you still owe some of us old-timers a dance before you move on to new prey.”
“I think Private Patterson was charming me. Isn’t that right?” I wink. Winnie starts to say something, but his stutter slows him down.
“I’m sure if he’s such a gentleman, he wouldn’t mind if I stepped in for a dance.”
Talbot takes my hand without asking. I want to yank it away, but it’s frowned upon to turn down a soldier unless he’s getting too friendly. And since Winnie hasn’t gotten up the gumption to ask me yet, I have no other choice than to dance with Gary Talbot.
I’m not clear if Winnie says yes or no to the interruption. It doesn’t matter because Talbot guides me onto the dance floor and puts his hand on my waist. My stomach rolls, and I wish I could shake it off.
As the music swells, he spins me out and then back in. I try to let my body follow his lead but find his movements jerky and harsh; it’s as if he were barking orders and I were saying, “Yes, sir!” with every twist and turn. He flicks me inward so his arms come around me from behind. His hot breath is on my neck, heavy with whiskey and tobacco.
“You’re more fun than I thought you’d be,” he says, and twirls me out again like he’s playing with a spinning top.
“Well, you’re exactly what I thought you’d be,” I say when he finds a way to bring me close again.
The dance ends quickly, and I break away, leaving Talbot standing in the middle of the dance floor, alone and out of breath.
I escape to the women’s bathroom and hide for another song, patting my face with water and wishing I’d remembered to slide my compact into my pocket when I checked my purse. I walk out with Brenda and Tracy, seeking safety in numbers. Both girls chirp on and on about the new men. I scan the room.
Talbot is dancing with another girl; Lucy, I think her name is. I feel for her, but I’m glad that I got away when I did. Winnie isn’t leaning against the back wall, and I don’t see him out on the dance floor or by the refreshments.
I wonder where he went . . .
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone far more familiar. It feels like a rock drops into my abdomen. Leaning against one of the painted metal posts, sipping a cup of punch, and talking to little Pearl Benson is—Tom Highward. He’s smiling at her the same way he smiles at me—broad and bright like he’s seen only sunshine his whole life. Pearl giggles and twists her artificially lightened hair. She drives in from Columbus with her roommates. Pearl’s not shy about her quest for a husband, though she denies it whenever Carly and Mrs. Portia confront her.
“Is that Pearl Benson over there with Tom?” Carly asks, coming up beside me. The next song starts, and a refreshed set of dance partners takes the floor. But not Tom and Pearl. They stand talking like they’re the only two in the room.
“I hadn’t noticed,” I lie, which has apparently become second nature.
One thing I can’t lie about—it hurts to see Tom stooped over Pearl Benson like he can’t take his eyes off her, like he wants to kiss her.
“You hadn’t noticed, my eye. Don’t be fibbing at me. You just went to church.” Carly puts her hands on her hips like she does whenever she’s scolding one of us. Usually, her high-pitched voice and spirited attitude have a way of getting me to laugh, but not tonight.
“I went to church and asked God if I should say yes to Tom’s date,” I blurt, wishing Carly were really my mom and could comfort me. She gasps.
“He asked you out?”
“A million times,” I say.
“Doesn’t he know you can’t say yes?”
“I told him. A million and one times. It’s why he’s mad at me.” Her mouth twists up in a sour expression.
“That’s not fair. You don’t make the rules, Viv. He’s cruel to blame you.”
“It’s not cruel to want someone so badly you’d risk everything. People do it all the time,” I say, thinking of Love Affair with Irene Dunne and Charles Boyer who fall in love and then promise to meet in New York, but Irene gets hit by a taxi on the way to the Empire State Building. Love. I think about my father caring for my mother after she took away his only son and lost her mind. Love.
Carly shakes her head and tsks.
“I know what you mean. When I was your age, I’d have given up my job here in a heartbeat if it meant I could have one more night with my Larry. But look where that would’ve left me—husbandless and jobless.” She puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes it empathetically as she watches Tom flirt with Pearl across the room. “It doesn’t seem like Tom is your guy anyway, so I guess it’s better you said no all those millions of times.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I say as the song comes to a close. I tear my eyes away from Tom and Pearl and face Carly. “Time for my first set. Everything look okay?”
She looks me over, smooths my hair again, and pinches my cheeks lightly.
“Everything is perfect, as always.” And though it’s Carly saying it, and Carly isn’t more than fifteen years older than me, I pretend she’s my mom and give her hand a squeeze.
As I take the stage, introduced as Vivian Snow, I greet the room and get a round of exploding applause and whistles. And as my voice fills the room, now distilled by the swaying bodies dampening the echoes of the space, I pretend Tom never existed, that my mom is watching in the wings, and my true love is out there somewhere waiting for me, possibly even on top of the Empire State Building.
CHAPTER 15
Elise
Present Day
Streets of Edinburgh
“Tell her to call me immediately,” I grumble through the phone at the third of my mom’s assistants to give me some lame excuse about why she can’t come to the phone. I hate being aggressive with her employees, but I can’t stand the possibility of Mac getting to her first. Someone needs to look out for our family’s best interest, and it’s becoming clearer every day that that someone is not Mac Dorman.