She still had memories—golden little scraps of them—of Benny smiling his dazzling smile or ordering a hot fudge sundae for her. There were memories of nights with him in her hotel room after everyone was asleep. And there was a newer memory, of a white automobile gleaming in the sunshine at the edge of a park. There was the vision of that automobile driving away—and the tears on her cheeks as she’d watched it go. The confusing part was, even now she wasn’t sure what she would do if someone were to tell her she could have those lovely little scraps back, that she could have the nights again, that she could make the car turn around and drive the other way. That she could have Benny back. Because there was Joe. Her relationship with him was the most confusing thing of all.
For a while she’d stopped thinking about their marriage and whatever Joe might be feeling about it. There simply hadn’t been the time or the energy. After Baby was born and they were booking small-time tours, they were too busy working and traveling to worry about love or relationships or anything but making sure Baby was clean and fed before they fell into bed at night. But then they’d started to reach their goal. That had happened, as many things in show business did, by sheer luck.
About a year after the gig in Shell Point, when she and Joe were two years into their marriage that wasn’t one, Joe was booked as a disappointment act on a big-time circuit. Suddenly, they were touring major cities: Joe played Chicago, Winnipeg, Vancouver, Seattle, Portland, Oakland, San Francisco, Denver, and Detroit, and then the tour doubled back to Chicago again. He was working in plush houses, the act was booked for one or two weeks at a time, and he and Ellie and Baby could afford to stay in nice hotels.
It was easier to work on the monologue when they were staying in the same place for a few days; they didn’t have to write as much new material for every show. And Joe himself was becoming looser and freer onstage as his confidence grew. The young man who had insisted on having every second of his act locked down now liked to wing a few jokes. Once, in Detroit, the audience had kept him onstage after he’d finished his regular routine, and he’d managed to ad lib for another twenty minutes.
It was during this period when things were easier that Ellie started to see Joe in a different light. It was as if she’d finally had time to relax and notice the way other people reacted to him. Other girls. The women on the tour seemed to be realizing that Joe was a comer. Suddenly he’d become attractive to the pretty flash dancers and the beautiful magician’s assistants and cute acrobats who waited for him to come offstage and regularly invited him to come along for the cast’s late-night suppers after the show—suppers Ellie skipped because she had to take her sleeping daughter back to the hotel. “But you go ahead,” she’d say to Joe. “You need to unwind.” And then she’d be angry when he went.
Something else had changed too. Now that they could afford a two-suite room, Ellie often bunked in with Baby. It wasn’t something she and Joe had planned or talked about, it just seemed to happen. Ellie wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Sharing a bed had always been slightly awkward in spite of their best efforts to downplay it. But there had been a warmth and intimacy to it too. Ellie found herself wondering if Joe missed it. She began watching him more closely when they were with the others in the company, and she made an unpleasant discovery. When all those girls flirted with Joe, he was flirting back. And he was going out to those late-night suppers.
Unpleasant as it was, it was to be expected. Joe was a man, and since she was treating him like an older brother, there had to be other women somewhere in his life. Whatever he had done in that way, he was discreet—so far. But eventually he would have to be tired of this bargain they’d made. Maybe he already was. After all, they had agreed in the beginning that this marriage would not last forever. It had been easy to forget that with all the writing and rehearsing and packing and unpacking, but now that they were doing an easier tour, maybe Joe had had time to think as she had. And maybe he was thinking he wanted to move on. If so, Ellie was not going to stand in his way, no matter how it felt.
She waited for a night—one of the increasingly rare ones—when he came back to the hotel room after the show. Ellie watched Joe put Baby to bed and lean over to kiss her good night. Ellie felt herself swallow hard—the child was going to miss him so much. But that couldn’t be helped. A bargain was a bargain. When he turned around, she began the speech she had been preparing for days.
“Joe, when we got married, we said it was just until I was doing okay….” She thought she saw his face tighten. She understood. This was not something she wanted to face either; they had grown accustomed to each other. There was comfort in that. But she wasn’t going to back out. “I’m all right now,” she said bravely. “What I mean is, I can be. I can take care of myself.” She was trying to find the right way to say it to him, which was ridiculous because she was doing it for his own good. “I’ll always be grateful—”
“Who is it?” he shouted at her. The explosion, coming from placid, careful Joe, was shocking. Then he looked at Baby’s crib. “Who is it?” he asked again, more softly.
“What?”
“It’s that son-of-a-bitch Benny. You’ve seen him.”
The white car parked in the sunshine flashed into her mind, but there was no way Joe could have known about that. “What are you talking about?”
“The reason why you’re leaving.”
“Me?” Now it was her turn to explode. “You’re the one who’s been following that girl around like a puppy!”
“What girl?”
“The one who works with the violinist in the novelty act, they’re third on the bill. I don’t even know her name….”
“Marie. She’s married.”
“So are you.” He gave her a look. “But you’re not … we’re not …” She stammered and felt her face flush red. “We don’t …” she tried and failed again.
“No. We don’t,” he said steadily—but his face was getting red too.
“And if you want to … leave me … so you can …” She stopped again. “Joe, you’ve done more for me than anyone I’ve ever known. I want you to be happy. I want you to have everything you want.”
He gave her a strange little smile she couldn’t read. “I was about to say the same about you.” Then he looked away. “So you haven’t heard from Benny?”
The white automobile flashed into her mind again. But there had been no words exchanged. “No.”
“And there hasn’t been anyone else?”
“No.” She had to wait a second. “You?”
He picked his words carefully. “Not in any way that counts.” Then he had taken in a big breath. “So if neither of us … what I mean is, why do we have to change things? I don’t see the reason.”
“No,” she’d said, and relief flooded her. “No, I guess there isn’t any. Not now. But someday—”
“Today isn’t someday. Today is today,” he’d said. “And today, everything is fine. Right?”
“Right.”
But there would be a someday. Because he hadn’t said there had been no one for the past two years. In fact, he’d implied there had been, it just hadn’t counted. But the time would come when he would want to be loved in a way that did count. And when that day came, some smart girl would see what a catch he was. And she—the smart girl—would have a whole heart to give him. She wouldn’t dream sometimes of a man with sky-blue eyes and a mop of bright blond hair who had given her red roses and a daughter who looked so very much like him. The girl would love Joe and only Joe. But in the meantime …
Joe had moved to the window to look out over the city. Being on a high floor above the other buildings was another benefit of making a larger paycheck. Ellie moved to stand behind Joe and slipped her arms around his waist. She felt his body tense as he turned around.
“Ellie, you don’t have to …”
“Yes, I do.”
He wasn’t that much taller than she was, so it was easy to reach up so he could finally kiss her after two yea
rs. And after that one kiss, the rest came all too easily too.
She learned something that night: Any woman who hoped with even the tiniest part of her brain that one man could make her forget another was doomed to disappointment. That would not change. But she also learned that she didn’t have to be madly in love to make love. There could be other feelings, like affection, warmth, and maybe even gratitude and familiarity. And those were good feelings. So from now on, she and Joe would be sleeping in the same bed. Even when they could afford a suite.
The gig as a disappointment act had been a turning point for Joe professionally. From that time on, he’d been booked into better houses and bigger cities. His reputation had built until he’d finally gotten the call to come to New York and play the Jefferson.
• • •
ELLIE HAD REACHED Fifth Avenue and turned uptown; ahead of her were the spires of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. She wasn’t one who prayed in a formal way, but she always felt when she went into a church that she should have her request worked out in a little speech, as a sign of respect for the Almighty. So she stopped now to gather her thoughts and make the best possible case for Joe.
AT PASTOR’S BOARDINGHOUSE, Joe walked to the door of Baby’s room to look in on her while she slept. She’d had a late night; even though Joe wasn’t performing until the following week, he and Ellie never went to bed before midnight, and Baby stayed up with them. If they weren’t careful she’d become a night owl who slept until noon.
Baby didn’t seem to mind that her days and nights were topsy-turvy, although sometimes Joe worried that a youngster needed a more orderly schedule than they were able to give her. And she needed space. Whenever they arrived in a new town, Ellie tried to find a park where the child could run, but when you were doing two shows a day and spending hours writing new material, there wasn’t much time for parks and playing. Baby spent most of her days in hotel rooms and dressing rooms. He and Ellie should talk about that. They should start making plans for the child’s education and her future. But he didn’t want to have that conversation. Because then he and Ellie would have to talk about their own future, and he was too afraid to do that.
Joe shook his head. This was not the time to be thinking about difficult things like his marriage, not while the Jefferson opening was looming. He and Ellie were both nervous enough already, although he hid it better than she did.
Ellie couldn’t sleep when she was wound up about something, which was why she’d gotten up early this morning and left without telling him where she was going. He knew anyway; she was off to light a candle for him at St. Patrick’s. Ellie wasn’t a practicing Catholic. Her pa had not been a churchgoer, and she and Joe usually caught up on their rest on the Sundays when they weren’t traveling. But Ellie’s mother had taken her to mass faithfully and had believed in the power of candle-lighting. So in moments of great need—like now—Ellie turned to her mother’s tried-and-true faith.
Baby was stirring in her crib. Joe was glad she was waking up. She didn’t care that next week he’d be starting the most important engagement of his life. She didn’t know his entire future hung on it. She was going to be hungry and she’d want her breakfast.
ELLIE HAD COME to a stop in front of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. She looked up at the lacy twin spires reaching into the sky like something out of a fairy tale, a magical place where miracles could happen. When Ellie went to church, it was because she needed miracles and magic. Perhaps that was wrong, she was sure churchgoing people would say so. But she was pretty sure God understood. She started up the stone steps to the heavily carved front door. She’d planned what she was going to say when she lit her candle: Please, dear God, let Joe kill at the Jefferson. Nice and simple.
CHAPTER 30
Joe waited while Baby struggled to put on her shoes—at three she was a determined little thing, whose favorite expression was an emphatic “Do it myself!” It could take quite a while before she’d finally turn her blue eyes up to him in a silent appeal for help. So he waited. The truth was, her independent streak gave him a kick. She was so like her mother.
After she was dressed, Joe took her hand, and together they walked to a coffee shop called Neely’s on the corner of Broadway and Forty-fifth. Mrs. Pastor served a full breakfast at the boardinghouse, but this morning he was feeling antsy and wanted to go out.
Neely’s was cheap and good, and it catered to a show-business crowd of managers, bookers, and performers who worked in all areas of the industry: variety, vaudeville, and legit. The place was open from 6 A.M. until after midnight—and Neely could be talked into staying open later if a show had opened and the performers wanted to continue celebrating after the cast party had ended.
Having breakfast at a theatrical watering hole was not what Joe would have chosen to do if he’d known of another place to go. At some point while he was downing his coffee, he knew some well-meaning soul would congratulate him on his upcoming engagement at the Jefferson, and his nerves would tighten even more. However, he ran the same risk at the boardinghouse. Gossip was a favorite pastime in show business.
Joe pushed open the glass door with Neely’s written in gold and black cursive across the middle and walked inside. “Chocolate ice cream?” Baby asked, as they waited to be seated. She’d recognized the place from a previous visit when she’d devoured a double scoop. She was such a bright little thing! And she was growing up so fast soon they’d have to stop calling her Baby and find a new nickname for her. “No ice cream morning,” Joe told her. “How about some flapjacks?”
Suddenly, he was aware that someone was watching them. He turned to encounter the sky-blue eyes that matched those of the little girl whose hand he was holding. Benny was sitting at a table with three of the biggest bookers in the business. Benny was now one of their number; he’d finally climbed to the position of power he’d always wanted.
Now he was staring at Baby. Joe watched Benny’s face go white and his eyes darken as if he was stunned by what he was seeing. It couldn’t have been news to Benny that Joe and Ellie had married and she had had a child; thanks to the show-biz grapevine he’d have heard about that. But the similarity between himself and the little girl must have been a shock—particularly for a man with Benny’s large ego. Sensing a danger he couldn’t articulate, Joe pulled Baby toward the door of the coffee shop.
“No,” she protested. “Flapjacks!”
“We’ll get some from Mrs. Pastor,” Joe urged. “You like her flapjacks.”
She agreed, bless her, and they were able to leave. He felt Benny watch them go.
JOE AND BABY were sitting in the boarding house dining room when Ellie came back. Baby was trying to eat a flapjack and was happily smearing herself with maple syrup, but Joe’s soft-boiled egg had congealed in the shell untouched. Swallowing food was an impossibility.
“You’re back,” he said as Ellie bustled up to the table and sat down.
“I went to St. Patrick’s.” She threw a quick look at him and another at his uneaten breakfast. “I lit three candles for you in the Lady Chapel.”
“You think I need that much help? Thanks a lot.”
“Oh, good,” she said cheerfully. “The candles are already working.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“When you’re grouchy before a performance, you always knock ’em dead.”
Joe didn’t tell her that his bad mood had nothing to do with knocking them dead at the Jefferson. He didn’t mention the near encounter he’d had with Benny at the coffee shop. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to upset her, but he knew that this wasn’t the real reason. Ellie had never gotten the man out of her system; that was why Joe was afraid to talk about their future. Sometimes he thought it was a stubbornness in her makeup—she had given Benny her whole heart, and she refused to accept the fact that it wasn’t enough. But at other times Joe thought maybe there was something in all those songs that said that each of us has only one true love. Maybe Benny was the only one for
Ellie, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. It was the kind of sentimental notion he usually found silly, but there had to be some explanation for the way Ellie clung to her memories.
In the beginning, Joe had hoped that time would do the trick. Once she was away from Benny, she’d realize how deeply selfish he was—and Joe would be right there, working and living with her and helping her to raise her child. Proximity and time would bring her to her senses. And for a moment it had seemed as if that was what had happened. When Ellie put her arms around him and reached up for their first kiss, he’d thought he’d won her. But he’d realized quickly that he hadn’t. Perhaps it was her stubbornness—or perhaps the love songs were right and Benny was the only man for her.
There were times when Joe told himself he was through. He couldn’t go on like this; he didn’t need this woman who was still hanging on to a dream. But then she’d wake up at the crack of dawn to light candles for him at St. Patrick’s, and he’d know he wasn’t through at all. At such moments, he’d have to ask himself if he was the stubborn one.
And there was Baby—his little girl. She was his; to hell with what anyone said. But if people were to see her standing next to Benny—or, worse, if Ellie were to decide that she wanted to end the marriage—how could he live without that child?
Baby was sitting next to him, and as if she could read his thoughts she gave him a smile that was sticky with maple syrup. And he knew that he could go on like this. He could do it forever if he had to.
“Thank you for lighting the candles,” he said to Ellie. He was going to put the near run-in with Benny out of his mind. It had to happen eventually. At least they’d gotten the first encounter out of the way.
CHAPTER 31
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