Ziegfeld Girls

by Sarah Barthel

  “We’ll listen,” Roger promised, pulling his arm off Sally’s shoulders and folding his hands on the table in front of him. Sally nodded her affirmation.

  Jada cleared her throat. It had been a long time since she’d spoken about that day. She thought for a moment about where to begin.

  “A few years ago, I was walking home after a storm and I came upon my parents’ bodies. They . . . They were hanging from a tree.”

  “What?” Sally asked.

  Jada cleared her voice. “They’d been lynched.”

  A pause settled as Roger and Sally absorbed Jada’s words.

  “That sounds like something that happens to other people’s families, not people I know. Certainly not you.” Sally shuddered. “Oh, Jada. How horrible.”

  Roger leaned back. “Do you know who did it?”

  “I have my suspicions, but I don’t know. Not for sure.” Jada forced the grocer’s face out of her mind. She’d never know what happened, and there was no point in dwelling on vengeance unanswered.

  Sally leaned forward and took her friend’s hand. “That is horrible, Jada. But what’s it got to do with Suzanne?”

  Jada looked at the wall and tried to swallow the flood of emotions that washed over her. Her parents were gone, which she’d known for a long time, but talking about it . . . trying to explain what that meant to her . . . she didn’t have words for that. Her inarticulateness was overwhelming in its symbolism. If she couldn’t even mention the event without tears, how did she expect to discuss it with people?

  Roger shushed Sally. “Give her a moment.” They waited until Jada was able to speak again; then he asked, “What did you do?”

  “I did the only thing I could think of. I decided to run away. But when I said good-bye to Suzanne, she insisted on coming with me. That two would be better than one. We left that night. Packed what we could in two bags, grabbed the secret wad of bills from the hallway vase, and fled. Suzanne was planning a wedding and she left him behind to save me. She knew a man who ran a theater in Philadelphia and so we took the next train north. She managed to convince the man to give us a chance onstage. And from there, we made it on our own.”

  Sally was quiet for a moment. Jada could almost see her trying to form what she wanted to say. Roger met Jada’s eyes, but didn’t hold the gaze. She reached for her water and took a sip.

  “I don’t understand. That Suzanne girl got her dream. She’s happy.”

  “She is now, but it was a hard road getting here. Long hours of training after booking jobs on her looks alone. It was rough. And she did it all to start over because of me. There are days I wonder if she wouldn’t be happier as some rich gentleman’s wife instead of working every day and living at Miss Mitzi’s.”

  “That girl thrives on attention. She was born to be onstage. I’m sure you saved her just as much as she did you,” Sally said.

  “Not that she didn’t make a huge sacrifice for you, Jada,” Roger said.

  “Of course,” Sally jumped back in. “What she did was noble, but she didn’t have to join you. She could’ve stayed behind or gotten you settled with a new position somewhere and returned to her old life.

  “If she hadn’t agreed, you would have run on your own. I may not know you well, but I know you wouldn’t have sat back and let some Klan member kill you,” Sally insisted.

  “Well, no,” Jada replied, her head swimming with questions. The knowledge that Suzanne had saved her life had pushed her through hundreds of troubling rehearsals and sentimental outbursts. If she hadn’t owed Suzanne so much, she wondered if she’d have stayed at her side that first year.

  Sally and Roger let Jada’s mind wander for a time. Roger filled their glasses with water and ice before Sally said, “Jada, honey, just because Suzanne saved you from one fate, doesn’t mean she can take the rest of your life.” Sally glanced at Roger and nodded toward Jada. “She should be onstage.”

  Roger nodded in return and smiled like a proud papa. “I don’t care where you got your talent, as long as you have some.”

  Jada pulled herself from her thoughts and looked at Roger. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that, if you’d like to share your talent, my stage is open to you. Danny needs someone to sing with him. Selma is only available sporadically.” Roger turned and looked at the empty space onstage next to the piano. “If you’d like to audition, the stage is yours.”

  Sally leaned against Roger’s chest, a smile beaming on her face. “Roger’s got that big old stage just waitin’ for you. We both said so after your first visit here.”

  Jada was about to argue that Sally had no right to expect her to perform, but her eyes drifted to the stage and the words fell from her mind. Shaking her head, she said, “All right then.”

  “Great!” Roger jumped from the booth and took Jada’s hand.

  The two meandered their way through the tables until they were at Danny’s side. Danny quickly improvised an ending to his song and looked up at the pair.

  “Danny, Jada is going to sing for us this evening.”

  “What would you like to sing?” Danny grinned as he offered his arm.

  Even though calmed by his manners, her mind went suddenly blank of song suggestions. Sally stepped up beside her and grinned.

  “How about ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart’? I bet you know that one,” Sally offered.

  Jada wanted to glare, but found herself smiling instead. Suzanne and she sang that tune often enough that she knew the words by heart. Danny was staring at her, waiting for an answer. “I do know that one,” she admitted. Her cheeks warmed as he winked at her.

  “All right then,” Danny said, beginning an intro to the song. “Let’s do this.

  Before Jada had a chance to argue, Sally pushed her onto the platform and walked back to their booth. Next to the flat back piano, Jada nervously twisted her hands around and around.

  Danny finished his intro and then declared, “Ladies and gentlemen! An impromptu surprise for you. The mysterious Jada!” And with that he sat down at the piano and began her introduction.

  Suddenly, a wonderful feeling of confidence washed over Jada and she lit up with such a breathtaking smile that men in the audience began to whistle at her before the song even began. She tapped the piano, giving Danny the tempo she wanted, and then walked to the center of the small stage, which was really only a few feet away from the piano.

  At first she only loosely bent her knees and swayed back and forth to his tunes, waiting for her cue. But as the intro went on longer than she remembered, she slowly shuffled her feet and kicked her legs until she was full into a dance that filled the room with energy. An instant later she licked her lips and began to sing, “‘Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in love with you. . . .’”

  The song came to an end in what felt like an instant, and every person in the audience stood up and cheered for her. Sweat dribbled down her back and the sides of her face, but for once, Jada didn’t mind. Her heart was light enough to fly. When the song ended, Danny segued into another melody, but Jada didn’t dare leave the stage. She dived right in, singing lyrics she didn’t know she knew and dancing steps she made up on the spot.

  Performing with Danny was different from working with Suzanne or even auditioning with Bert. It was easy. There was no hesitation, no self-conscious wonderings if she was doing something right. He played and she sang and it felt wonderful.

  When closing time came, the bar was still packed and the customers stayed on the dance floor until Danny and Jada finished the last note.

  “Thank you. It is time we were all heading home now,” Danny said. “But come back again tomorrow to see the mysterious Jada and I perform again!”

  The crowd roared with applause before slowly dispersing to gather their belongings and exit.

  With the bar empty, Danny locked the door and turned to Roger. “That must be the best night we’ve ever had.”

  Roger grinned as he handed a glass to Sally to dry. “If Jada will h
ave us, I believe she is the missing piece to our little establishment.”

  Jada didn’t hesitate in her answer: “I’d love to join you.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Craig Masterson leaned down and whispered in Suzanne’s ear, “You look divine.” His breath was warm and wet against her cheek. He was drunk, though he hid it well.

  Suzanne took an uneasy step away from him. “Thank you,” she replied.

  The orchestra was playing loudly and couples were dancing in the parlor. Suzanne took another step toward the door, but Craig stopped her. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her close. “You don’t really want to dance to that old rag music, do you? I took you for a modern woman.”

  His fingers dug into Suzanne’s skin, burning with pressure. This was not what she had in mind when she accepted a dance with Craig. Instead of charming, he was overbearing and boorish. For the first time in a long time, she wished she’d stayed home.

  “Laura!” Suzanne called, waving her free hand. “Laura, hello!”

  “Hi, Suzanne.” Laura glanced at Craig and smiled. “Your house is massive. I got lost just following the music.”

  Craig chuckled. “Thank you.”

  “Is Ann here yet, Laura? I wanted to ask her about the Williams number.” Suzanne hoped that Laura would understand and take her away from Craig.

  Laura instantly rolled her eyes. “Suzanne, tonight is about fun, not work.” She laughed. “Has she been discussing the show all night?”

  Craig placed a hand on Suzanne’s back and stepped closer. “We have much more interesting things to discuss.”

  This closeness felt all wrong. Even if he had drunk too much, his hand was holding her too tight and his comments were too intimate. She should have followed Laura’s advice before and left Craig Masterson alone.

  “Oh!” Suzanne cringed as Craig’s hand lowered slightly. She had to get away. “I see Flo in the other room. I must go say hello. You will both excuse me, I’m sure.”

  “But, Suzanne . . .” Craig’s voice had an odd tone. She didn’t reply, but took her exit into the dance room.

  Behind her Laura said, “Let her go. It’s important for all of us to be on Flo’s good side.”

  Luckily, Flo was standing just a few feet inside the door. His date, Billie Burke, stood beside him. The dark red in her dress contrasted nicely with her red hair, which was piled into a bun on the very top of her head. Her tall neck gave her a stately quality that her pale skin only amplified.

  “Hello, Flo,” Suzanne said. Her voice was much quieter than she meant it to be, but still Flo turned to include her in his circle.

  “Suzanne, my darling. So lovely to see you tonight. That gown does not do you justice.” Flo took her hand and kissed it.

  Billie hit him with her fan. “Florenz Ziegfeld, that dress is stunning and you know it.” Her famed high, trilling voice wavered between annoyed and amused. Then to Suzanne she held out her hand. “Billie Burke, pleased to meet you.”

  “Likewise, I’m sure,” Suzanne replied, taking Billie’s hand.

  “You were in The Dancing Duchess?” When Suzanne nodded, Billie continued. “My friend Albert had a small part.”

  “Bertie? He was a good sport. He knew the whole script and kept feeding the other gentlemen lines when they forgot. Has he found another show?” Suzanne stepped closer to Billie.

  “He went back on the circuit. I tried to get Flo to hire him, but there are few spots for men in his amazing Follies.” She laughed.

  Flo frowned. “Perhaps I should have hired him. He might have proved useful this year.”

  There was a sullen pause that made Suzanne nervous. Flo’s face sparked with life all of a sudden. Both Billie and Suzanne followed his gaze to the door where Ann had just walked in, as usual without an escort. All over the room people started to comment, and several gentlemen went to offer their arms for a dance.

  “Excuse me,” Flo said, releasing Billie’s hand and walking over to his star.

  Instantly Ann’s face lit up in a display of charisma and charm. She took Flo’s hand and let him lead her about the room.

  Suzanne looked over at Billie, whose face had lost some of its light.

  “How dare he!” Billie whispered. Then to Suzanne she demanded, “How dare she when I am here.”

  Ann and Flo were in the center of the room dancing the fox-trot. As always, Ann looked radiant in Flo’s capable arms, and she made him look like he could dance. A few people stepped to the side to watch them move across the dance floor.

  When Suzanne didn’t answer, Billie pursed her lips and then said, “But enough about that. I have been wanting to speak with either you or Lillian for the last week. Flo said your friend was injured.”

  “Ruby, yes.” Suzanne could feel her face heating up.

  “What do you know about it?” Her sweet voice was flat and firm. She expected answers.

  Suzanne swallowed. “She fell during rehearsal. Her ankle was injured. It is unlikely that she’ll be back to dancing before we open.”

  Billie stepped closer to Suzanne so that no one else could hear their conversation. “Why did she fall?”

  “What?”

  “Is she known for such mistakes?” Billie asked.

  “Well, no.”

  “Did anyone ask why she fell?” Billie asked. “I hear she had been reprimanded for losing weight. Is she healthy?”

  “Ruby had lost some weight, but she was in good health. Dancers trip sometimes. I’m sure even you have had a tumble once or twice.” Suzanne smiled as Billie laughed at her honesty.

  Now that Billie had pointed out the question, Suzanne’s mind wouldn’t stop racing. She had landed in a spot of grease. She’d never really questioned its presence, but Ruby wasn’t one for tripping or losing her balance. Why had there been grease on the stage?

  “Someone should think about it. Flo won’t hear anything against you darling women, but the few times I’ve overheard him and Jonathon arguing, I am pretty sure I know something is not right at the New Amsterdam.”

  The letters. If Billie knew about the letters, she would know something is not right at the New Amsterdam. Suzanne swallowed. She should have known that Ruby’s accident wasn’t an accident. An uneasy feeling filled her stomach.

  Across the room Lillian’s shrill giggle exploded as Henry Darling ended a story. The friend hadn’t been to see Ruby since the accident and had managed to be cast in all of Ruby’s parts. Suzanne bounced on her toes. Could Lillian be the reason such things were happening? Her laugh flitted through the air again as she lay her hand on the gentleman’s arm. Suzanne turned away in disgust.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed as she bumped into Jonathon.

  “Hello,” he said, jumping back to give her room. “Lovely to see you again, Suzanne.”

  He looked very sharp in a top hat and tails. Looking down at her, he fiddled with his white necktie. Suzanne hid an amused smile. It was charming to see him nervous and, if Suzanne was honest, rather flattering.

  “I’m glad you came tonight,” Suzanne said.

  “Would you—that is, could I have the honor of this dance?” He extended his hand and bowed slightly as he awaited her answer.

  “Oh my, Jonathon. I thought you’d never ask.”

  She slid her hand into his and let him lead her onto the dance floor. His hand rested lightly on her back as he guided her around the dance floor in a smooth fashion.

  “I never knew you were such an accomplished dancer.” Suzanne looked up at him with admiration.

  Jonathon’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t normally attend such soirées, but Flo insisted. I admit after your friend was injured I have taken any opportunity available to observe the company together.”

  “Yes, I quite agree. Something is not right.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to talk to your girl before.” He stepped back and spun her before coming back and guiding her to the other side of the dance floor. “It was a bad time and I was woefully behind with wo
rk. Can you tell me more about the notes Ruby received?”

  “What?” Suzanne asked. Jada had been to see Jonathon and hadn’t told her. That didn’t sound like her. Jada told Suzanne everything, especially when she was going to speak with someone from Suzanne’s world. What made her keep such a secret from her?

  Jonathon looked at the other dancing couples around them and shook his head as if to say, “Not here.” Instead, he took her elbow and led the two of them into a back room off the main parlor.

  Despite Craig’s lack of interest in anything intellectual, the room was filled with books. Every wall was a bookcase featuring anything from Charles Darwin to Jane Austen. Suzanne wondered whom he paid to cultivate such a collection. The round room had only a short bench and leather chair for seating and a fire that contained a small flame that warmed the room.

  “Before the accident, Jada came to me with a note Ruby had received with a box of treats.” He walked over and set his elbow on the back of the chair.

  “Yes, I know about that. She’d gotten more than one note, but the chocolates put us all on edge. The notes were usually accompanied by a flower arrangement or some other nonsense. Don’t feel bad. I didn’t really give them much credence either. I mean, the words were threatening, but not violent.” Suzanne perched on the edge of the bench, giving her feet a small rest.

  “Threatening, but not violent,” Jonathon repeated.

  “But with Ruby’s accident, they have been on my mind more and more.”

  “Did you tell Flo about the notes after the accident?”

  “Tell Flo? No, why would I?” Suzanne stood up and moved closer to the fireplace. “I hardly see the man, let alone consult him on such affairs.”

  “Well, an unusually graceful girl was injured after being threatened. Shouldn’t someone take action? How are we supposed to keep you girls safe if you don’t confide in us?”

  Suzanne’s head snapped toward Jonathon. “Safe? Keep us safe? I wasn’t aware that was one of your duties. I didn’t know that we needed protecting. Perhaps that would have been good to know when I found you slinking after me all about the city!” Her voice had gone shrill, but she didn’t care.