“Flo can keep looking! I will not work for a company that abuses women.”
Any strength drained out of Jonathon’s stature. “Abuses women? What are you talking about?” He dropped her arm.
Marie snorted and stepped back from Jonathon. “As if you don’t know. You know everything that happens with the company. Please, don’t play dumb.”
“I really don’t know what you are referring to.” Jonathon looked over his shoulder at Jada, who shook her head in confusion.
Marie sniffed. “Next time you decide a girl isn’t part of the group anymore, tell her. I’ve had enough harassment and fear for one year. It was cruel. Just plain cruel. Now, leave me alone.”
“Marie, please!” Jonathon reached forward again and caught her sleeve in his grasp. “We never—”
A group of gentlemen stepped forward. “Is he bothering you, miss?” one asked. They were larger than Jonathon, who stepped back from them.
Once again free of Jonathon’s grasp, Marie took a few steps away. “No, we are done here.”
The men glanced at Jonathon, who stepped toward the car. Jada slid over as he opened the door.
“Take care of yourself,” he called after Marie, but she was already walking down the block. He settled next to Jada and nodded to Quincy to start driving.
After a long moment he said, “Sorry about that.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“I hope she is well,” Jada offered.
“Something strange is happening,” Jonathon said aloud to himself. “Yes, she graced our stage last year. Then after lunch one day she declared she was leaving. She returned from her dressing room and told Leon she was done and walked off the stage. No warning, no explanation. Some of us, Flo included, thought it was a publicity stunt, but when she didn’t return we knew it wasn’t. Until today, we haven’t seen her. We have money we owe her waiting at the office. She’s never come to collect.”
“Who would leave behind money?” Jada wondered.
Jonathon blinked as if he didn’t realize he’d been talking out loud. “If it was only Marie, it might be explained as a fluke. But since then we’ve had half a dozen other girls leave. Some of our most promising talent gone in a fit of fear and anger.”
“Sometimes fear breeds anger.” Jada adjusted her seat as they went over a bump.
“True. You know, Mr. Ziegfeld has plans for Suzanne.”
The hairs on Jada’s arm stood up. Calmly she said, “He has been very generous.”
“I hope you will let me know if she begins to have . . . doubts.” Jonathon glanced out the window as the car stopped outside Miss Mitzi’s. “She deserves to be a star.”
“She does.” Jada gathered her packages. When Jonathon didn’t elaborate, she added, “Suzanne is a very hard worker. We—I mean, she rehearses every night.”
“Of course she does.” Jonathon smiled. “As her friend, please alert us if anything strange starts happening. We don’t want to lose her.”
Jada’s spine straightened with pride. “I assure you, Mr. Franks. Suzanne is not going to let a little fear get in the way of her career.”
“If there are any issues, please have her come see me.” He opened the car door for her.
Jada took his hand while getting out. “Thank you for the ride.”
With that she collected her packages and rushed inside. Suzanne would want to hear all that Jonathon said about her. She set the packages on the entry table and took off her hat.
“Jada!” Suzanne exclaimed. “What do you think?”
Jada turned from the hat rack to see Suzanne spinning around in a satin crimson dress with black lace overlay. Her hair was pulled high atop her head and her diamond comb was over her right ear.
“You look beautiful.” Jada resisted asking where she got the dress. They made enough now that Suzanne could splurge now and again. “Who did your hair?”
“Oh, I asked that Sally girl to help. She isn’t as good as you, but we made it work.” She glanced out the window. “Listen, I know we were going to rehearse some of the new moves, but Ann asked me to come to a party. I think I can wave a leaf back and forth without too much trouble.”
Jada raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. She picked up some of the packages and waited.
“Tomorrow morning,” Suzanne said. “I have the whole day to work tomorrow.” She kissed Jada’s cheek. A car honked from the curb. “That’s Ann waiting for me. Thanks, Jada!”
She was out the door and in the car before Jada could even think of what to say. She collected the rest of the packages and started up to their room. Since befriending Ann and Fanny, there seemed to be parties every night and they went later and later.
* * *
The next morning, Jada shook her head at Suzanne. “Don’t you complain about a sore stomach to me. I didn’t make you go to that party. You knew we needed to work today.”
“I know, but I’m really tired,” Suzanne whined. She rubbed her head. “I may have drank too much.”
Instead of giving in, Jada grabbed the pitcher of water on the dresser and poured Suzanne a glass. “Here. Any better?”
After drinking the water, Suzanne nodded. “I guess.”
“Good. Now, you need to stop leaping so high. You don’t impress anyone by landing late.”
Jada was fed up with excuses and being made to wait. If she had been forced to sit around waiting for her all morning, Suzanne would at least get her turns right.
Clapping her hands in a stern rhythm, Jada called out, “Five, six, seven, eight.” She resumed her seat on the bed as Suzanne dipped and leaped gracefully across the room like the nymph Ziegfeld hoped she was. Jada’s head kept the rhythm and her lips kept count as the routine was played out in front of her.
Suzanne leapt modestly into the air and landed on a bent leg and moved perfectly into a turn before stopping and turning toward Jada.
“Well?” she asked. Her chest was heaving, but her eyes looked hopeful.
Jada waited a moment before nodding. “That is exactly it,” she said. “Keep your leaps modest, like you just did, and Julian won’t have any further complaints.” She tossed Suzanne a towel.
“Thank you, Jada. I don’t know what I’d do without you helping me.” She pressed the towel to her forehead and neck, dabbing away the sweat.
“Nor do I.”
Suzanne kicked her playfully, before sitting down next to her.
“Shall we fix ourselves up and go get pastries?” Jada offered.
It had been a tradition since they first started rehearsing. Once Suzanne mastered something challenging, the two would pick up a rich dessert, go home, and have a night of giggling and sugar, usually chocolate. Jada felt it so special that she rarely ate chocolate except on such joyous evenings. Despite being tired, Jada knew Suzanne would jump at the chance. It had been too long since they enjoyed some time just the two of them without leaps to perfect or contracts to examine.
“Ugh, I am so sick of sweets.” Suzanne held her stomach and plopped on the bed beside Jada. “Did I tell you about the chocolate fountain they had last night?”
“No, you didn’t.” Jada could only imagine such a dessert.
“I ate so much of it, the very idea of chocolate sounds foul.” Suzanne turned so her back was to Jada. “Besides, I promised a few girls I’d be at Zarab’s tonight. I’ll have Miss Mitzi make me a salad for lunch. I can’t eat heavy all day if I want to keep my Ziegfeld figure.”
“You’ll need to get more sleep if you want to keep your beauty.” Jada said it softly so it didn’t sound too harsh.
“That was mean.” Suzanne turned back around. “This is part of the job. Being seen.”
Jada weighed her options. She didn’t want to upset Suzanne, but needed to express her concerns. “Yes, you do need to be seen in society, but you also need to take care of yourself. You are sick this morning because of last night. That can’t show at rehearsal.”
Suzanne’s face fell and suddenly she was the gir
l Jada grew up with again. Slightly insecure, yet determined. “I really didn’t mean to drink that much.”
“Really? You are better than that. You can say no to these gentlemen.” Jada put a hand on Suzanne’s shoulder. “Don’t let them change who you are.”
“Don’t look at me like that.” Suzanne shrugged off Jada’s hand. “This is my chance to fit in to New York society.”
Jada nodded, swallowing away her disappointment. “I understand that.”
“Then you see why I have to attend these parties. It is important.”
“I never said I didn’t understand why you went . . .” Jada began.
Suzanne jumped to her feet, leaned down, and kissed Jada’s cheek. “You’re a peach,” she said. “I’ll make it up to you sometime. When I have a free night, we’ll stuff ourselves with pastries. I promise.”
“I wasn’t really hungry anyway,” Jada lied, but Suzanne was already out of the room and didn’t hear her.
* * *
In the evenings, Miss Mitzi’s parlor sank into the dusk haze with the warm red and yellow hues reflected inside. Sitting on the couch and reading the newspaper had become an evening tradition of Jada’s. It was understood, of course, that she would leave should a group of gentlemen or ladies wish to use the space, but that never happened. The New York nightlife drew them away from the boardinghouse almost before the sun set. Lately, Suzanne had been joining them.
“Suzanne has so many nice friends,” Miss Mitzi said as she entered the parlor and settled into her rocking chair. “Have you met no one to spend time with?”
“I don’t know many people in the city,” Jada replied. “Besides, this is the only time I have to enjoy the paper.”
Miss Mitzi shrugged. “Suit yourself. Seems like a waste to me.”
Jada chose not to answer. Instead she turned the page and began reading an article about the rising tensions in Europe. For a long time the only sounds were the crinkle of Jada’s paper and the creek of Miss Mitzi’s rocking chair.
“Excuse me, Miss Mitzi,” Sally interrupted. “You are needed in the kitchen.”
With barely a nod of her head, Miss Mitzi pulled herself up from her chair and left the room. Sally did not follow her. Instead, she came farther into the room and picked up a discarded section of the paper.
“You read this dribble?” she asked.
Jada looked up from her article and nodded. “Mrs. Haskins taught me to keep on top of the news.”
Sally plopped onto the couch next to Jada and leaned over to see what she was reading. After a moment Jada heard a slight whispering in her ear. Without the slightest movement she looked down and saw Sally’s mouth repeating the same syllable.
“Arch-Arch D—”
“You can’t read,” Jada blurted out.
The moment she said it, she regretted it. After all, wasn’t it she who denounced those who thought coloreds weren’t educated?
“’Course I can read.” Sally sounded a bit too shrill for Jada to believe her.
“I’m sorry, that was improper.” Jada forced a pleasant smile and shrugged, hoping Sally would accept her apology.
Sally looked from Jada to the paper. “Truth?” she offered.
Jada nodded.
“I know my letters and all. Those papers, though! They use words I don’t know and don’t understand.” After a moment’s hesitation, she resorted to her usual demeanor. “Besides, why should I care what a bunch of stuffy white men have to say anyway?”
Jada stared at Sally for a moment, torn between shock and pity. “We could read a bit together and I could help you with the words you don’t know.”
Sally nodded slowly. “Do you think they published W.E.B. Dubois’s speech?”
Jada nodded. “It’s on the page you’re holding.”
Sally looked down at the crinkled paper as if it were covered in rubies. She unfolded it and began scanning the headlines.
“What’s the big deal with him anyway?” Jada asked.
Sally nearly dropped the paper. “You don’t know Dubois?” Sally pulled a few strands of hair behind her ears and adjusted her posture so she was completely facing Jada. “He speaks for us. Unlike other people, he is working to get us equality, not just rights. He stands up for what he believes. I wish I was more like him.”
“I think you are well-spoken.” Jada glanced at the paper.
Once she had brought home a pamphlet of a speech Dubois made and was immediately chastised. Mrs. Haskins had insisted that “his kind” will only bring destruction and sadness to colored folk. That is what his violence will foster. But listening to Sally and hearing her passion, Jada wondered if it was fear or validation that Mrs. Haskins had felt.
Jada scooted away from Sally’s gesturing hands and passionate words. Other than family and the theater, Jada had never felt so strongly about anything. She followed the news as she knew she should, but nothing had ever touched her soul. It occurred to Jada that there was little point in knowing about the world if she didn’t care about it.
“I know you were raised alongside that Suzanne,” Sally continued. “But that doesn’t make you the same. You need to start a life outside of hers.”
“I do know about life. Day after day tensions are rising higher in Europe, and picketing women are getting arrested every day in America. Women are working to get the right to vote.” Each fact she stated made Jada feel more and more foolish. Nothing she said was specific, or even really involved her.
Sally handed her the paper and said, “Let’s read. Perhaps I can teach you something as well.”
CHAPTER 12
The trolley swayed back and forth as it made its way down Forty-second Street. A few packages sat on Suzanne’s lap as she and Jada returned from an afternoon of shopping. Jada’s shoulder bumped against hers annoyingly, but Suzanne didn’t say anything. She was too tired.
“Look.” Jada pointed out one of the windows.
The building ahead of them was plastered with theater sheets advertising productions opening soon. There, in between Cohen’s new show and an unknown show, was a sheet for the Ziegfeld Follies of 1914. The red background accentuated the girl in blue, who was leaning over, looking at her face in the mirror, with her back end provocatively displayed toward the viewer. A few hatboxes dressed up the room, and the NEW AMSTERDAM THEATRE in bold lettering finished off the poster on the left.
“It is really happening,” Suzanne said as the trolley passed by the building. “We are going to open and I’m going to be a real Ziegfeld girl.”
Jada took the packages off Suzanne’s lap as they came close to their stop. “Of course you are going to open. What did you think all the hard work was for?”
They got off the trolley and walked the two blocks to Miss Mitzi’s. Suzanne’s feet screamed in the new shoes that had been gifted to her by a gentleman she met at a club a few nights ago. They pinched her toes but were too beautiful to return.
“Of course I knew we were going to open, but, I don’t know, this just makes it feel real.” Suzanne grinned.
“I can understand that,” Jada said. She gestured toward the boardinghouse. “Looks like Miss Mitzi has a new boarder.”
A car sat in front of the boardinghouse, the driver fiddling with the trunk on the back. The man didn’t look up as the girls walked past him and toward the boardinghouse.
“Thank goodness! Maybe now she’ll stop begging me to invite my friends to board there. As if Ann Pennington would leave the Ritz, or Kay leave her suite at the Boston Hotel. No, if any Ziegfeld girl were to move, it would be me for something far more glamorous than Miss Mitzi’s.”
“She has been good to us and perhaps once the show has been open for a while we can move, but it feels good to have so much money saved, doesn’t it?”
Suzanne tripped on the sidewalk. “There is such a thing as too practical, Jada.”
They turned to walk into the house when Jada froze. “Oh no,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” Suzanne g
lanced from her friend to the house and her face fell. Through the lace curtains the shadow of a woman could be seen. “Who is that?”
“You don’t know?” Jada looked at Suzanne as if she were stupid.
The front door opened and Mrs. Haskins walked out. Her tall, thin frame was dressed in her tan traveling suit and ivory blouse with a wisp of baby’s breath tucked into the lapel. It never ceased to amaze Suzanne how such a small woman could command such attention. Even the birds stopped chirping when she walked out onto the porch.
“Suzanne.” She sounded both relieved and annoyed.
“Hello, Mother,” Suzanne replied. Turning to Jada, she asked, “Did you know?”
“No,” Jada insisted. “I had no idea.”
“But you wrote to her.”
Jada had no reply to the anger in Suzanne’s face.
They stood in an awkward stillness before Mrs. Haskins glided down the stairs and embraced Suzanne.
“It has been too long, my dear.” Mrs. Haskins grasped Suzanne’s cheeks and looked into her eyes. “We must talk.”
Suzanne didn’t reply, but led her mother up the stairs and into the front parlor. Jada followed a few steps behind.
“Jada, darling,” Mrs. Haskins said. “This Miss Mitzi person seems to be busy with something more important than my visit. Would you be a dear and get us some lemonade?”
Jada glanced at Suzanne and then smiled to Mrs. Haskins. “I’ll put these upstairs for you and then check the kitchen for something for you to drink.”
Mrs. Haskins nodded and turned her back to Jada.
“Thanks, Jada. I appreciate your help.”
Jada raised an eyebrow as she left the room, but Suzanne refused to respond. Any acknowledgment of their friendship could set Mother in a direction of conversation Suzanne did not wish to pursue. Instead, Suzanne sat on the sofa and gestured for Mother to do the same.
“Why are you here?” Suzanne asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Mrs. Haskins folded her hands together and stared at her daughter. “As the funeral happened in London, the Plankstons are having a dinner to celebrate Elton’s life next week. They would like you to attend.”
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