Ziegfeld Girls

by Sarah Barthel

Jada blinked in surprise. “That is interesting. She did replace Ruby in both of the numbers. But Lillian? Really?”

  Suzanne shrugged. “If not her, who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A silence came between the women.

  Clearing her throat, Suzanne asked, “Will you come to the theater with me tomorrow?” Before Jada could say no, she went on. “Someone needs to go through Lillian’s belongings. While I am in rehearsal with her, you could search.”

  Jada bit the inside of her cheek. “I can’t tomorrow. I am going to meet Roger to go over the contract; then I need to have a dress made for work.”

  “Oh,” Suzanne was obviously surprised. Jada couldn’t remember the last time she said no to Suzanne, but she had to draw the line somewhere. If she went to the theater, Suzanne wouldn’t take her evening job seriously. She would lose ground. That wasn’t an option, not anymore.

  “Are you sure?” Suzanne pressed. “We leave for Boston in a few days. I don’t know if we’ll still be roommates. What if something happens . . . something worse than Ruby?”

  Jada turned away from Suzanne’s pleading eyes and looked for some task to give her a moment to regain her resolve. After a moment of adjusting the pile of books on the bed stand, she shook her head.

  “I promised Roger, and missing that appointment would be detrimental to my career. You have to see that.” Jada crossed her arms.

  It was Suzanne’s time to pause. She sat on the bed and crossed her legs. “Well, perhaps I could do it myself tomorrow and if I need help, you can come in Tuesday.”

  Jada never thought Suzanne would bend so far.

  “I will be there Tuesday,” she said.

  “Perhaps this will show you that I respect your new job.” Suzanne’s voice was thick. “If I’d known you wanted more . . .”

  Jada held up her hand. “We can only start from where we are, not change what has already happened.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Suzanne woke up earlier than she ever had before. Jada was already gone when she pulled on her dress and buttoned it up the front. She grabbed an apple from the kitchen and dashed out the door. Once on the front stoop she halted. A shiny Model T was parked directly in front of the boardinghouse. Jonathon was leaning against the side reading a newspaper.

  “What are you doing here?” Suzanne tried to hide the smile on her face.

  Jonathon looked up at her. “I wanted to give you a ride to rehearsal. I had hoped to have time to read the paper since it had come to my attention that you were not an early riser.”

  That comment stung, but Suzanne refused to let it show. “Perhaps not, but I am always on time to rehearsal.”

  Before he could answer, she walked to the car and waited as he opened the door. She slid inside and waited for him to walk around and sit beside her. She knew he hadn’t meant his comment to offend her, but she still felt the sting of it.

  “What got you up so early?” The car putted down the road. “I assume it isn’t for rehearsal since you tend to rehearse in the evenings.”

  “How did you know that?” Despite herself, Suzanne’s heart skipped a beat.

  It was Jonathon’s turn to be embarrassed. He turned away from her and looked out the window for a moment before saying, “How could I not know? You are hard not to notice.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Suzanne rolled her shoulders back. “I wanted to get in first so that I might look through the dressing room. Alone.”

  “An excellent notion.”

  Jonathon settled into the bench and looked out the window as the buildings passed. He rested his hand on the bench beside Suzanne’s. She looked down and her pulse quickened at how close he was to her. On purpose, she looked away and waited for them to arrive at the New Amsterdam. Once the car pulled up to the theater the pair stepped out. Jonathon instructed the driver to return at ten to take Mr. Ziegfeld to an appointment. By the time he was done giving his instructions, Suzanne was through the door and walking down the hallway. Jonathon caught up quickly.

  “Lillian is notoriously late on Mondays and Thursdays. Flo and Julian have commented on it. If we are quick, we can check her dressing room things now.” Suzanne was nearly out of breath.

  “If you are sure.” Jonathon held the door to the dressing room open as Suzanne entered. Ruby’s vanity had been cleared off. Suzanne swept her hand over the white surface.

  “What happened?” Suzanne asked.

  “I don’t know.” Jonathon tapped the vanity top. “Her mother came in yesterday and collected all her things. She didn’t say much, but I think she discovered the notes you mentioned.”

  Suzanne pulled her gloves off and laid them on the vanity. “Threatening notes and a sprained ankle. I can see where that worried her. Still, I’ll miss her.”

  “We’ll be sure to invite her back next year.”

  “Really?” Suzanne hung her bag on the hat rack. “That is rather generous for Flo.”

  “That’s how he is. Once you are in the family, you are always welcome.”

  “Oh . . . Lillian’s section is this one. She has the most horrible-smelling perfume, don’t you think?” Suzanne lifted the bottle and sprayed some into the air.

  Jonathon wrinkled his nose. “I prefer lavender.”

  Suzanne couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on her face. He liked how she smelled. She stepped closer to him and opened the drawer on the vanity. Inside there was a line of various dimple pens and some lip rouge, but not even so much as a scrap of paper that implicated her in any of the happenings at the theater.

  “Damn it!” Jonathon kicked the leg of the vanity.

  “Calm down. This doesn’t mean anything. Lillian may not be a smart woman, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t hide something she knew was incriminating.”

  “Or maybe she just didn’t do it,” Jonathon offered.

  Suzanne opened the wardrobe and shuffled through the dresses. Lillian didn’t keep much at the theater, preferring to bring what she needed from her home. So the few gowns and petticoats in there were things she wore for rehearsal and had a rather unpleasant stench to them. As she pulled two hangers apart, a box on the bottom of the wardrobe caught her eye. She knelt down and pulled the box out. It was made of oak and had Lillian’s initials carved into the top. She opened the lid and gasped.

  “What?” Jonathon asked, turning away from the photos Lillian kept on the vanity.

  “Look!” Suzanne held up a small piece of paper.

  “Lillian, one wrong step could be your last. Don’t ignore me like your friend,” Jonathon read aloud. “She’s also receiving the notes?”

  “That’s how it appears.” Suzanne agreed. “Clearly, I was mistaken about Lillian.”

  Jonathon handed the paper back to Suzanne. She shuffled some more through the box, but all she found were cards from genuine admirers and sentimental things. Why had she saved the threat-ening note along with all of these lovely things? She closed the box and put it back in the bottom of the wardrobe.

  “You don’t think,” Suzanne began, then stopped for fear it was a ridiculous idea.

  “What?” Jonathon prodded her.

  “Well, you don’t think she wrote herself a threat just in case someone was suspicious of her?” There was a brief pause; then Suzanne closed the wardrobe door. “Never mind. That was silly.”

  “Not silly,” Jonathon said. “But if she wanted to prove she wasn’t the culprit, why wouldn’t she place it so that it is easily found? Why hide it so completely?”

  “Yes, of course. I just had to say it out loud.”

  The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed 7:30.

  “I had better leave. We don’t need the girls gossiping any more about our relationship.” Jonathon laughed nervously.

  Suzanne met his gaze and smiled. “Craig Masterson walked in on you kissing me. Craig is many things, but proud is highest on the list. I assure you, he has told every one of my scandalous ways and why he is no longer pursuing me.” She snorted. “
Never mind, I’d been trying to shake him for the last few days.”

  Jonathon blinked. “I thought you were smitten with him.”

  “Craig?” Suzanne asked. “No, not really. He was someone fun. A gentleman to test my newfound fame on. He was never someone I’d consider actually letting into my life. He is too full of himself for that. If I ever marry, I want someone who loves me more than his image.”

  “Ah, yes. That is something I understand. I would want the same thing . . . to be first to someone.”

  Jonathon looked down at Suzanne and smiled, and suddenly her feet trembled ever so slightly. She returned his gaze for a moment before breaking away and turning to her bag.

  “I need to get ready.” She paused for a moment before asking, “What’s next?”

  “Can I take you for dinner after rehearsal tonight?” Jonathon asked. “We should plan our next move.”

  Suzanne nodded. “Can you pick me up at Miss Mitzi’s at seven?”

  “Yes.” Jonathon’s face lit up as he agreed. He stepped backward and bumped against the table as he tried to leave. Feeling blindly behind him, he grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. “I’ll see you then.”

  Suzanne grinned back. It didn’t really matter what they were going to talk about together, only that someone wanted to spend time with her because she brought value to the conversation. Jonathon wasn’t interested in her because of whom she danced for or because she was friends with some of the most beautiful women in New York City. He wanted to hear her opinions and thought she added virtue to the conversation. He saw her, and whether they were simply working out what was happening at the New Amsterdam or something more, she was glad to feel valued.

  She leaned against the doorframe and watched Jonathon walk away from her, his coat slung over his shoulder. Once he had turned the corner and was no longer visible, she took a step back into her room; then the door across from hers swung open.

  “Suzanne!” Laura’s face shown with both surprise and awe. “Craig mentioned he saw you two together, but in your dressing room?”

  Suzanne’s face burned. “Nothing like that. Jonathon is a friend, an innocent friend.”

  “Sure he is.” Laura winked. “What is he like? He always seemed kind of boring to me, but if you prefer him to Craig Masterson. Well, he must have something going for him.” She walked past Suzanne to her dressing room door.

  Suzanne stepped into the hallway and leaned against the wall. “Craig is an overreaching prig who won’t take no for an answer. You spent time with him last night, didn’t you get bored of hearing all of his stories about himself.”

  Laura shrugged. “The wine kept pouring and the music kept playing. Beyond that, I didn’t really care. I mean, there are only so many millionaires in New York. Ann keeps half of them entertained. If I want one, I can’t be too choosy, can I?” She entered her dressing room, followed by Suzanne. She sat at her vanity table and pulled out her bottle of lotion. She rolled up her sleeves and began applying the soothing ointment to her skin.

  “Just be sure you like the person you choose. Millions are one thing, but a gentleman is worth far more.”

  Laura’s eyes tightened. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You ran away from your millionaire.”

  For a moment Suzanne’s stomach clenched. Did Laura know about Elton and her? She took a moment and found a comment that fit for anything.

  “Perhaps I did, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.” Suzanne offered Laura her bottle. “Some days I just don’t think I’m cut out for the other part of this job.”

  “Other part?”

  “You know.” Suzanne waved at the dress hanging in the wardrobe. “The evening dances and celebrations every week. Don’t you ever just want to go to bed and get some rest?”

  “If you don’t like the celebrations, why are you in the Follies? Isn’t that half the allure? Being written up in the papers and having people follow your fashions. That is the dream.” Laura had a hungry look in her eye. “And even with the Ziegfeld girl name, only a few of us really accomplish all that was promised us. Only a few of us become household names.”

  Suzanne nodded. “Ann and Fanny are very talented.”

  “You mean Fanny is very talented. Ann is simply beautiful. And when the room is as grand as ours, that’s saying something.”

  Other girls started to come down the hall.

  “I thought you liked Ann,” Suzanne said quietly.

  Laura waved her hand as if to dismiss Suzanne’s question. “I can like her and still have an honest opinion of her. That doesn’t negate my friendship. I like a lot of these girls, but that doesn’t mean I think they all should be stars.”

  The honesty in Laura’s voice made Suzanne pause. Before she could reply, Lillian came bounding into the room.

  “Oh! You are here early this morning, Suzanne.” She plopped her bag down on a chair. “You too, Laura. Did I hear right, Suzanne? Is that girl Jada singing in Harlem?”

  “Where did you hear that?” Suzanne’s tone was nastier than she intended, but she didn’t soften it by saying more.

  Lillian paused to think. “Someone told Ruby that and she mentioned it when I saw her yesterday. Is it true?”

  “Yes.”

  Lillian and Laura both inhaled as if it were a huge scandal. “After all you’ve done for her, she just left you to pursue her own singing?” Lillian asked.

  Laura stood up and paced the small room.

  “I’m not sure I’d put it like that,” Suzanne said. “I didn’t have much use for her anymore and she was offered the opportunity.”

  “Didn’t Bert also want her?” Laura’s question had an edge of worry to it.

  “Isn’t one Negro enough for this show?” Lillian said dismissively.

  Laura laughed. “Perhaps more than enough.”

  “We should get dressed,” Suzanne said. Bert had never been a favorite, but pushing him out of the show wasn’t an option Suzanne wanted to see happen.

  Now that Jada had found a place somewhere other than on stage with Bert, Suzanne allowed herself a secret amount of pleasure for her friend.

  CHAPTER 24

  The crowd was loud with gay laughter and clinking bottles. Jada held the final note as long as she could before nodding to Danny and ending the song. The pairs of dancers stopped dancing and roared in applause. Danny applauded as well. Jada’s grin felt as if it might tear her cheeks apart. Any concern that the thrill would wear off knowing she could return night after night was gone. This was what her life had been missing. This was what she needed.

  “They love you!” Danny shouted.

  Jada beamed. “I can’t believe it!”

  Requests were shouted from the couples on the floor. They came so fast that soon they were just noise in Jada’s ears. Behind her the piano bench scooted back.

  “We are going to take a five-minute break. The bar is open.”

  To Jada, Danny gestured to a door in the back of the bar. He opened it and followed her inside the much more quiet room. Though not part of the bar, the room had a small cart in the corner filled with bottles and glasses. Danny filled a glass with ice and poured brandy over it. He held it out to Jada.

  “No, thanks,” she said. “I don’t like brandy.”

  “What do you like?” Danny grinned. “Last night you turned down beer, the night before gin. So, what’s your poison?”

  “This—” She pressed her hand to the entrance to the bar. “I like the feel of those people listening to me. I like the vibration of their applause. I don’t like anything that takes away from that.”

  Danny took a sip of his drink. “Those are words I understand.” He stretched his long brown fingers in the air. “I’ve never seen an audience take to someone like they have to you. It is exciting to watch.”

  “Thank you,” Jada said. “I have wanted this for a long time.”

  The glass placed on the table, Danny bent over and touched his toes. “Don’t mind me,” he said. “I have a l
ittle routine I like to do between sets.” He lunged to his side and raised an arm over his head.

  Jada sat in one of the well-loved chairs and watched him stretch for a moment.

  “Everyone has their rituals,” Jada agreed. She didn’t yet, but once she’d worked for a while she was sure she’d develop some.

  The door opened again and Bert entered. Jada turned away and drank more of her water. She waited for her nerves to hit her, but her pulse kept steady.

  “You are hot tonight!” Bert said warmly.

  “Bert, you old chum! So glad you made it!” Danny crossed the room and shook hands with the entertainer.

  “Jada.” Bert rocked back on his heels and smirked. “Well, we just keep running into each other.”

  Her breath didn’t stop and her stomach didn’t lurch. Instead, she tilted her head and smirked back. For the first time, Jada met Bert’s gaze and she felt like an equal, not like some little schoolgirl.

  “Perhaps if you didn’t keep following me, we’d stop having these run-ins.”

  Danny stepped back and picked up his drink. “This is why you are lighting up the room. You have a spark, girl.”

  Bert took a glass and poured water into it.

  “Roger has an eye for talent.” He downed the glass. “Leon and I are trying to work out the end of a new number and the music isn’t working.”

  “Bring it by at closing and I’ll take a look,” Danny offered.

  “Thanks.” Bert returned to Jada. “Maybe we can talk more then.”

  “Perhaps,” Jada replied. “We should return to the stage, Danny.”

  And with that she opened the door and returned to the energy that was more potent than any drug or drink could ever be.

  * * *

  It felt like minutes instead of hours when Danny announced it was the final song of the night. True, the bar was a bit less full and the couples a bit more unsteady on their feet, but Jada could’ve gone all night.

  Roger turned up the light once Danny was done with the music. The brighter light ruined the mood and, looking around, the couples quickly filed out. Blondes with tall men, short dark men with their slender companions filed out of the bar. One of the blondes glanced over her shoulder and waved at Jada. On impulse, Jada waved back; then she realized who the girl was: Suzanne’s friend Laura and that tall gentleman, Mr. Masterson. They walked out into the cool night air and Laura clung to her escort’s arm. What were they doing here together?