“We don’t have to make any big announcements about getting married,” Joe had said. “That way no one can really trace back the date, if …”
“If anyone counts the months before the baby is born.” Ellie had finished his thought.
“You’ll just start using my name and we’ll share a room and people will figure it out.”
That was the way he’d said it—casually, as if it was going to be the easiest thing in the world for them to sleep in the same small room. But he was right. If they wanted to make the marriage look right, they had to live together.
So on the night after the hurry-up ceremony at the courthouse in New Haven, she had taken her suitcase into Joe’s room. And she had tried not to look at the single bed that sat in the middle of it, because she was afraid her teeth would start chattering if she did.
Joe had said calmly, “I can take the bed apart, and one of us can have the mattress and one can have the pillows and the rest of the bedding, if you like—but I don’t think it’ll be comfortable, and we’ll have to put it back together in the morning before the maid comes in. Or we can share the bed and stay on our own sides. I’m pretty good at that. I had three brothers, and there was only one bed for all of us when I was growing up.”
“Florrie, Dot, and I slept together too,” she’d said, and somehow discussing it made her feel less cold and shaky.
“Then we’re old hands at this.” And he’d picked up his night clothes and started for the door. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall,” he’d said. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Will that be long enough for you?”
“Yes,” she’d said. “That will be fine.”
And it had been. She’d gone to sleep and hadn’t bumped into Joe once all night.
The next morning she’d been relieved, and it wasn’t just because sleeping in the same bed with Joe had not turned out to be too much of a problem. Ever since Joe had offered to marry her, she’d lain awake nights, worrying that, in spite of everything he’d said and the unromantic way he behaved, he did have feelings for her. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to think about it, but she couldn’t stop. Because if Joe did have feelings for her, and she didn’t have any for him, marrying him would be the cruelest kind of selfishness. But if she didn’t marry him, what about her baby? Round and round her mind had gone, night after night. And in her heart she was still hoping—and praying—that the baby’s real father would come back, and that would solve everything.
But after that terrible little ceremony, she could stop hoping and doubting. She had to trust Joe when he said that this was what he wanted, and she had to stop torturing herself with questions, because there was no turning back. They were married; it was done. She was grateful for the finality. She’d felt bruised in those days, as if her spirit had been in some kind of violent accident and was trying to recover. Through the pain she’d been aware of only two things—she was going to have a baby, and in spite of everything she was still in love with the baby’s father.
Ellie closed her eyes again and let the sunshine play on her face. She’d let Joe sleep a little longer before she started back toward the hotel.
AT THE HOTEL, Joe woke up and looked around. Once again, Ellie had taken Baby outside so he could get his rest. He leaned back on the pillows. It touched him that Ellie watched out for him like that. He’d never been sure how she felt about him; he still wasn’t. She was grateful to him for getting her out of a bind, that much he knew, but was there anything more? In the beginning he’d known there wasn’t. He remembered the way she’d stood there in front of the courthouse in New Haven after their sad little wedding conducted by the justice of the peace who was hung over. Joe had wanted to tell her then that she deserved better than this. He’d wanted to buy her a bouquet of flowers to hold, and he’d wanted to take her someplace nice for a big lunch. But he’d known this wasn’t a happy day for her. She wasn’t a joyful bride marrying the man she loved, and it seemed to him that he’d be rubbing salt in her wounds if he tried to pretend otherwise. Besides, to do it under the circumstances would make him feel foolish. So they’d gone back to the hotel to work. Because work was something they could always share.
But that night when Ellie had come into his room, he’d almost called off the whole marriage. She’d walked in carrying her suitcase and she’d put it down on the floor and stared at him with eyes full of fear. This beautiful girl with the strawberry-blond hair was looking at him as if he were some kind of monster. And he’d wanted to yell at her, I bet you didn’t look like this when you were getting into Benny’s bed. I bet you were smiling then! But then he remembered the way she’d looked the first night he’d seen her, when her drunken father hit her, and he remembered how she’d looked when she realized Benny had walked out because she wouldn’t abort her baby. At sixteen she’d known very little kindness in her life, and now she was all alone in a bedroom with a man who was in many ways a stranger. And, stupid as it was, she still loved the man who had deserted her. Joe had wanted to put his arms around her and tell her she would be all right. But that would only scare her more. So instead he’d talked some nonsense about sleeping arrangements and asked her how long she’d like him to stay out of the room while she changed into her night clothes. And then he’d spent the whole night wide awake and hanging on to his side of the mattress so he wouldn’t roll over and touch her by accident.
Joe shook his head and leaned back on his pillow. He’d wanted to take care of Ellie that night because she was afraid, and at the same time he’d wanted to shake her for being such a little fool about Benny—and he’d wanted to kiss her. If he lived to be a million years old, he would never understand why he felt the way he did about Ellie.
THE SUNSHINE ON the boardwalk was getting too warm. There was a grove of trees in the park across from the beach where Ellie was sitting with Baby. She stood up and began pushing the carriage. The little girl was still sleeping, which was a blessing. She was tiny, but Ellie could see changes in her already. She was growing up fast—too fast. Sometimes Ellie wished she could turn back the clock to the day the child was born and make it stop there.
ELLIE’S DAUGHTER HAD been born in a small town called Millertown. It sat on the Hudson River, near the railroad line from New York City to Albany, and Joe had seen it for the first time when he and Benny were traveling to a booking upstate. There was an apartment building with a view of the river that had caught his eye from the train window, so the next time Masters and George were between gigs, he’d gone to Millertown to rest for a few days. He’d discovered a first-class diner across the street from the train station, a pretty park, and friendly people, and later he’d remembered the town when he and Ellie were making plans. On top of all its other good points, Millertown had a small but well-equipped hospital where she could have her child.
Ellie had been afraid that Joe might say she should stay with her sister Florrie and her horrid husband and have the child in New York while he continued working on the road. And she couldn’t have done that. Because New York was rapidly becoming Benny George’s town. He was making a name for himself as a booking agent and people were already saying he was going to be one of the men who could make or break a career. Given the incestuous nature of their business, Ellie would have run into him sooner or later, and she knew she couldn’t have taken it—not while she was carrying the child he’d wanted her to get rid of.
But the subject of New York never came up when she and Joe were making their plans. Joe said he couldn’t do the act without her to help him, so they’d both lay off until the child was born. They settled in Millertown, in an apartment in the pretty building overlooking the Hudson River, and Joe had stayed with Ellie as they waited for the birth together.
It had been a strange time, Ellie thought, when she looked back on it; in some ways it had been like a vacation. Their days had taken on a peaceful pattern that she had never before known. They had made friends with the elderly couple who owned the diner and eaten there ev
ery Sunday. Ellie had discovered a library in the center of town, and for the first time in her life she had the leisure to read books. It wasn’t a life she could imagine living forever; eventually she knew she’d want to get back to the hustle and bustle of the road and show business, but for a while there was something soothing about it. She got to know Joe better during those long lazy days. She learned that, in spite of his fast mind, there was a part of him that was delighted by simple things. He liked the local band that played—badly out of tune—in the park gazebo on Saturday nights. He could watch the river for hours on end and always see something new.
During that time, Ellie was almost able to forget that she and Joe weren’t an ordinary married couple—and that the child she was carrying wasn’t his. And if every once in a while she did remember, and wondered once again if Joe was in love with her, she pushed those thoughts aside. Joe seemed content with this bargain he’d made; making herself miserable with doubts and guilt would be a terrible way to thank him. Instead, she’d tried to find little ways to show him how grateful she was—like making his coffee exactly the way he liked it and taking it to him in the morning. And not asking questions. And being content herself.
Then her daughter was born. The nurse put her in Ellie’s arms, and for a second Ellie felt her heart stop, because the infant was so clearly Benny’s. Even her tiny head was covered with a soft yellow down that was going to turn into his golden mop. Without meaning to, Ellie tensed when Joe was brought in to see “his” child. She watched the nurse hand her to him—because of all those brothers and sisters he was far more expert at holding an infant than Ellie had been—and braced herself as he looked at the child’s telltale hair. She told herself she’d understand if Joe turned away or handed her back. She reminded herself that Joe had agreed to give Benny’s child a name, but loving her had never been a part of the arrangement. Ellie told herself she didn’t expect that of him.
Joe had looked into the tiny face, then he’d stroked the little head covered with the golden fuzz that was going to be just like Benny’s. “Like a little bird,” he’d murmured. He’d turned to Ellie. “We can name her Eleanor, after you, or we could name her Joanna, after me.”
Ellie had not cried since the pains had started the night before, because she’d been determined to be strong through this ordeal she’d brought on herself. But that was when she started to sob.
ELLIE HAD REACHED the steps. Pulling the stroller up them had been hard, but getting it back down was going to be even harder. It was too heavy to roll down, and too big to lift. She looked at her watch; the time had flown. Joe would be waking now, and they needed to get to work as soon as he’d had his morning coffee.
• • •
JOE GOT OUT of bed and turned to look at the corner of the room where Baby slept. He liked to see her there when he woke up, and he missed her when she was gone. From the beginning he’d been her willing slave … well, almost from the beginning. There had been one bad moment the first time he’d held her and really looked at her. Even then, tiny as she was, she was unmistakably Benny’s child. Joe had thought about the years ahead when she’d grow to look more and more like his former partner, and he’d wondered how that would feel.
But then he’d seen that Ellie was watching him. She’d turned away fast and tried to look tough, like she didn’t care, which was what she always did when she was afraid of being hurt. At the same moment, the infant in his arms had shifted. She was so small and defenseless. And it was because of him that her mother had been able to keep her. So even if he wasn’t her father, she was his. Somehow Ellie had read his mind, because the tough look had faded from her eyes. It wasn’t until he started suggesting names that she had started to cry.
The next day Ellie had gone back to being tough again. “We’re going back on the road as soon as the doctor says Baby can travel,” she told Joe. He’d tried to argue that there was no hurry and they could wait a little while longer to let Ellie rest. But she wouldn’t hear of it. “This layover cost you, Joe,” she’d said. “You were just starting to get noticed when we stopped working.” She was right about that; by the end of their last tour, Joe’s act had been the one that was regularly singled out, both in reviews by the local newspapers and in the weekly reports that theater managers sent back to the bookers in Manhattan. “You know how the business is,” she said to Joe. “You should have been building on those reviews.”
“We had something else to do,” he’d said.
“You need to get back in front of the public right away.”
So the sixteen-year-old kid he’d married had started trouping with an infant that was still only a few weeks old. She’d worked right along with Joe, reading the newspapers and writing the monologues, and at night when Baby cried, Ellie stumbled out of bed quickly to quiet her. “Go back to sleep, you need your rest,” she’d say to Joe. “You’re the one going onstage.”
That first tour after the layoff hadn’t been a picnic. They booked a small circuit out in the sticks so Joe could get his timing back. It had been three months of one-night stands, five shows a day, and hotels that were clean but that was all you could say for them. When they finally managed to book Shell Point, he was beat. He could only imagine how Ellie felt. But she never complained. Not the tough girl who was his partner.
Joe got out of bed and put on his robe. Ellie and Baby would be back soon. It was time to start the day.
ELLIE HAD MANAGED to maneuver the carriage down the steps by clamping on the brakes and dragging it behind her. Baby was crying now. Ellie reached into the carriage and picked up the child and then as she straightened up she saw it: an automobile parked by the curb at the far end of the park. It was probably a Stutz Bearcat, or maybe it was a Duesenberg—Ellie didn’t know much about cars—but whatever the make it was a dashing vehicle and very expensive-looking. It was painted white, and the man behind the wheel was dressed in white too. He was so far away that Ellie couldn’t make out his features, but she didn’t need to. She hadn’t seen Benny in two years, but she would have known the shape of his head, and the way he held himself, anywhere. The boardwalk behind her and the beach and the bright sunny sky started to spin. She put her crying daughter back in the carriage and watched her own hands cling to the wicker-covered handle for support. It was as if she had no connection to those hands, or the carriage handle, or the sky, or the trees at the end of the park where Benny’s car stood. She wondered if she was going to be sick.
The last time I saw him, I was sick too. But then it was morning sickness. That thought steadied her. She looked up. Even from this far away she could see his bright blond hair gleaming in the sunshine. For a brief, crazy moment she thought about holding up his child so he could see the head of golden curls that were exactly like his. The baby’s eyes were his shade of blue—although he wouldn’t be able to see them from this distance. As these insane thoughts raced through her brain, he must have realized that she’d seen him, because across the park the sleek car roared into life and pulled away from the curb. She thought maybe he was going to drive to her side of the park and stop in front of her, and her heart raced painfully in her chest. But the car turned in the narrow street and went off in the opposite direction. The sound it made lingered in the air after it was out of sight. Then everything was still again—so still it was as if nothing had happened. It was as if the car and the man had been a figment of Ellie’s imagination. As if she’d been daydreaming. Maybe she had. Maybe the whole incident was nothing more than wishful thinking on her part. But she knew better.
He wanted to see us. He wanted to see me. But he left. Again.
Her heart stopped pounding. She leaned over to soothe her crying child. And she felt the tears on her own cheeks. She began pushing the carriage—fast now. She had to get back to the hotel. She would pick up the morning newspaper in the lobby and take it upstairs to Joe so they could work on the day’s monologue. She’d be safe, working with Joe.
• • •
EL
LIE NEVER TOLD anyone about that day in Shell Point when the sporty roadster appeared across the park. There wouldn’t have been any point in telling Joe—at least that was what she told herself. Besides, there were times when she thought she really had imagined the whole thing. Certainly, Benny never did it again. At least, not as far as she knew.
And while it would be a lie to say she didn’t know what Benny was doing—he was rising so fast in the Keith organization that the trade papers were full of stories about him—she and Joe had begun a two-year odyssey of their own. With Baby, they endured milk-train jumps from small town to small town, as they made their way from New York to Canada to Oregon, Colorado, and Illinois. And in every town and in every theater, their one topic of conversation and their one goal was improving the act. It took all of their energy and left time for nothing else. They kept at it for two long years, until Joe finally got his shot at the Big Time.
CHAPTER 29
Pastor’s Boardinghouse,
New York
1923
Ellie ran out the front door of Pastor’s Boardinghouse and headed east. The boardinghouse was on Forty-fifth Street and Broadway and her destination was St. Patrick’s Cathedral. She was going to ask God to help Joe when he opened his act the following week. Because after two years of touring the small-time she and Joe were in New York City, and Joe was booked—for a whole week—in a theater called the Jefferson. All the New York scouts and booking agents went to see the new acts that played the Jefferson, and if Joe went over, he’d work the big-time circuits for the rest of his career. Being a hit at the Jefferson could lead to an engagement at the Palace.
Ellie turned toward Fifth Avenue, moving quickly. When she’d left their rooms at the boardinghouse, Joe was just beginning to wake up. He’d wait until Baby was awake, then he’d dress her and take her downstairs for breakfast. He loved doing things with her—there was a connection between them that Ellie found confusing. Sometimes she thought life in general was confusing.
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