Last Night at the Blue Angel: A Novel

by Rebecca Rotert

  Elizabeth says, What are these?

  They’re called Shirley Temples! I exclaim. I had one at a poker game.

  Mrs. LaFontaine shoots a look at me and I realize I shouldn’t have said that.

  Sister and Mr. LaFontaine sit across from each other and talk like they’re old friends. Then they start to talk about the war.

  What are these drinks you’ve given them? Mrs. LaFontaine asks Rita.

  Well, cocktails, darling, says Rita. What else? She taps Mrs. LaFontaine’s arm with the back of her hand and Mrs. LaFontaine straightens.

  Oh, for Pete’s sake, says Rita. They’re pretend.

  Pretend, says Mrs. LaFontaine, squinting up at Rita. There’s a great deal of pretending that goes on around here, I gather, Miss. She hisses when she says Miss.

  Jim takes a picture of them.

  The room goes quiet suddenly as everyone listens to Sister and Mr. LaFontaine’s conversation.

  I just don’t think six hundred dead Vietcong is cause for celebration, says Sister.

  Jim looks up from his plate.

  Mr. LaFontaine cocks his head. No, of course not. I’m only suggesting that profound changes are bound to come from this, some of them of great interest to me, to us.

  Sister nods, considering what he says.

  Mrs. LaFontaine looks at me. Her face softens some. Miss Sophia, you look lovely in your birthday dress. Is it new?

  I nod.

  I rather like these new hippie fashions, she says, like she never got mad at anyone in her life. I can certainly see the appeal.

  Can I have a dress like that? asks Elizabeth.

  We’ll see.

  Mother looks at her watch and at the door.

  So how is the performing life? Mrs. LaFontaine asks Mother.

  Oh, you know, it’s a living. Have you been to the Blue Angel? she asks.

  Mrs. LaFontaine looks at her for a moment. Do you see many Negroes at the Blue Angel?

  Mother laughs. Well, of course! Why, Dizzy Gillespie played there. Etta James?

  Onstage, says Mrs. LaFontaine. Do you see them in the audience?

  I suppose I hadn’t noticed.

  You don’t have to notice, Mrs. LaFontaine says sternly.

  Well, Mother says. These things have to change sooner or later, right?

  How do you figure? says Mrs. LaFontaine.

  Mother opens the clutch on her lap and takes out an envelope.

  I know it’s Sophia’s special day, but this is just a little something to say thank you, for your friendship and your understanding. She hands the envelope to Mr. LaFontaine. He opens it; he smiles.

  I’ve reserved the best tables in the house for you. And your friends. It’s going to be my last show there, she says. It’s time for me to move on.

  Mr. LaFontaine thanks her. Elizabeth says, Do I get to go, too?

  Her father says, Of course. And her mother says, We’ll see.

  Everyone at the table seems very excited about this except for Mrs. LaFontaine. I can’t tell what she feels.

  I eat my way along my pizza to the edge of the crust, leaving the crust on my plate. Mother is still glancing at the door and at her watch.

  Sophia, do you know the history of your name? asks Mrs. LaFontaine.

  This feels like a pop quiz.

  Sister looks at me and nods as if to say, You know the answer to this.

  My mother and Rita and Sister gave it to me when I was born, I tell her.

  Mrs. LaFontaine smiles. Yes, of course, but do you also know that Sophia appears in the Bible many times. She is wisdom. Your name means “wisdom.”

  I know, I tell her. Sister told me. I forgot.

  Don’t ever forget, says Mrs. LaFontaine.

  Mother takes little bites of pizza quietly, like she’s been punished.

  Aren’t we missing someone? says Mrs. LaFontaine, looking around the table. Yes. The man in the housedress?

  Elizabeth bursts out laughing. Rita glares at Mother.

  David, says Mother. He’s running a bit late.

  Can Sophia open my present? asks Elizabeth.

  Jim says, I don’t see why not.

  Elizabeth hands me what is surely a book wrapped in shiny silver paper. You probably already know what it is.

  Not EXACTLY, I say, pulling open the paper.

  Show us! Show us! says Mother. I turn the book to face them.

  I can’t see what it is! says Mother, delighted. She glances at Mrs. LaFontaine but Mrs. LaFontaine shrugs as though she knows nothing about the gift.

  I read them the title. Fallout Protection: Understanding and Surviving Nuclear Attack.

  I smile. The adults look at one another with stunned faces.

  What on earth? says Rita.

  How did you even get this? I ask Elizabeth, throwing my arms around her.

  My dad helped, she says.

  Mr. LaFontaine nods and smiles at us. The adults look at him and they try to smile, too.

  And another one, says Jim, pulling his present out of a bag. One long box is stacked on a square one and they are individually wrapped.

  Did you wrap those yourself? asks Mr. LaFontaine.

  Of course.

  He’s very good at that sort of thing. Our Jim, Mother says to Mrs. LaFontaine.

  I open the small one first and study the sketch on the box. Soldering iron? I ask.

  Soldering, Jim says, leaving out the l sound.

  What does it do? I ask.

  Open the other one, he says.

  The other box is plain cardboard with the word Heathkit written on the corner and on the bottom it says “Heathkit 6 Transistor Radio.”

  You can make your own radio. We’ll do it together. He helps me open the box and pulls out the instruction manual. A drawing of a man and his son is on the cover. See. It tells you exactly how to do it, start to finish.

  I hold the instruction book and study it—numbers, colors, sentences—and I think of all the things on my list, wishing I had an instruction book for everything. It’s quiet in the room. Everybody is watching me like I’m supposed to say something.

  You’ll need a radio if you survive a nuclear explosion, says Mr. LaFontaine. Jim and Elizabeth nod. The mothers scowl and shake their heads.

  I begin to feel like everything might be okay. I put my arm around Elizabeth and she puts her arm around me.

  Then David appears in the doorway, exclaiming, Where’s the birthday girl? Sorry I’m late. I was at the airport.

  Mother moves toward him. Whatever for? she says, like he’s so silly.

  A woman comes in behind him. It’s the airline stewardess who gave me the trouble dolls. She’s got her uniform on and her little hat.

  Hello, everyone, she says.

  Mother stares and the woman stares back.

  David introduces everyone to his sister, Laura.

  Jim moves the chairs around, telling everybody to sit down and eat more. Look at all this pizza, he says, taking more pictures. Mother scooches closer to me and Laura sits down on the other side of her.

  What on earth, Mother whispers to Laura.

  Davie said we were going to a club, says Laura, smiling. I’m as surprised as you are.

  Son of a bitch, whispers Mother, shaking her head and lighting a cigarette.

  Is that for me? Laura says to her. She passes the cigarette to Laura. He’s always up to something, our David. Isn’t he?

  Mother says to Rita, Darling, I think we could use a good deal more wine, don’t you?

  You read my mind, says Rita.

  David eats a few bites of pizza and drinks some wine. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and stands up with his glass.

  We’re not just celebrating Miss Sophia’s birthday tonight, he says. We’ve got other news.

  Mother interrupts, David, darling—

  I’ve asked Naomi to marry me and she said yes.

  Oh, my goodness! says Mrs. LaFontaine. Rita’s mouth hangs open as she looks from David to Mother. Jim shakes his
head and the look he gives Mother makes me forget to breathe for a second.

  Mr. LaFontaine says, Ah, marriage, and raises his glass.

  David looks at Laura. See why I wanted you here? For this!

  She looks at him like he’s just said something very mean to her.

  Mrs. LaFontaine says, Congratulations to you both.

  Sister studies the base of her wineglass.

  Elizabeth leans in close. Are you happy?

  I look at Jim, who is staring at the table like his spirit left the room. Looking at him makes me want to cry.

  They toast. Mother is so flustered she drinks all the wine in her glass while the others just take a sip.

  What a terrible, terrible surprise, says Rita to no one in particular.

  Mrs. LaFontaine looks over at Laura, who appears to be frozen. Where are you from, Laura?

  It takes Laura awhile to answer. Kansas originally, she says, clearing her throat. Same as David. And Naomi.

  Everyone has gotten very quiet with their forks and glasses, like if they move too fast, something might explode.

  Whereabouts? asks Mr. LaFontaine.

  Soldier, says Laura. You’ve never heard of it, I’m sure.

  I ask, You knew Mother when she was little?

  Yes, I did, says Laura. Naomi was my best friend.

  It was another lifetime, though, wasn’t it, sis? Hell, I can hardly remember, says David.

  I remember, Mother says, staring at David. Her jawbones move under her skin.

  David stands again. Well, that’s all ancient history. I’ve got another surprise! He fishes around in his inside pocket, pulling out one little box and then another. He places one in front of me and one in front of Mother.

  Mother says, It’s not my birthday.

  Now, says David, you brought Sophia into this world, so it’s a happy day for you, too. Go on, open them up.

  Mother and I look at each other, and then we untie the yellow ribbons. I take off the lid and there is a key on a piece of red ribbon. I pull it out and look over at Mother. She is looking at her key but doesn’t touch it.

  What’s it for? I ask.

  It’s for our new house, doll. I bought us a house. He glances at Mother and then says to Mr. LaFontaine, Three bedrooms, two baths, a great big yard.

  He says to me, You could have a swing set. Hell, maybe even a dog.

  I don’t move. It seems like nobody in the room moves.

  A dog! says Elizabeth, clapping her hands. What will we name it?

  Mother finally says, smiling, Where is this house, darling?

  Naperville. Just west of the city.

  How far? I ask.

  Oh, a few dozen miles is all, says David.

  Elizabeth looks at me. Will we see each other?

  Of course, says David. You can come out anytime.

  Mr. and Mrs. LaFontaine look at each other and seem to have a little conversation with their eyes. Elizabeth notices this and frowns. She leans in close. I don’t think they allow Negroes out there. We stare in each other’s eyes, our fears wrapping around each other.

  An unbelievably bold move, says Jim. David frowns at him and Jim raises his glass like in a toast, but he’s not smiling.

  Rita enters with the cake, candles flickering. Kick us off, Miss Hill, she says.

  Mother clears her throat.

  Before I catch fire, says Rita.

  Mother begins to sing “Happy Birthday” and everyone joins in. It is weak and out of tune.

  That was perfectly terrible, Rita says to me. Make a wish, baby.

  I look around at the table and try to think of a wish. I look at Mother but she’s not paying attention, she’s looking at the key. And I know it’s not going to work—our love, everybody in this room—it’s not going to be enough for her. I start to feel like I’m going to cry with everyone looking at me. I just want us to be okay but I know, somehow, that we won’t be. That it’s going to be like Mother says, Sometimes things just come crashing down. I blow out the candles as hard as I can without even making a wish. The others clap.

  CHAPTER 33

  DAVID SAYS SOMETHING about going out to the bar to make some real drinks and Rita follows.

  Laura watches her brother leave. Always full of surprises, she says, looking at Mother. Is this what you want? Everyone looks at her and at Mother.

  It is so generous, isn’t it? says Mother, smiling at the others. She takes a little bite of cake and seems to hold it in her mouth like she can’t swallow it.

  Everyone starts eating cake. They say, Yum and Good stuff and try to talk to one another, try to leave Mother and Laura to their conversation, but they can’t help themselves. They have to listen in.

  Laura doesn’t eat. Are you done? she says to Mother.

  Done what?

  Singing. This will be the end of that, she says, pointing at the box.

  Don’t you start, says Mother.

  I know you, says Laura, sitting up tall and straightening her little uniform jacket.

  Maybe I am done, says Mother, her voice tight like she’s going to cry. Let’s be honest. It’s not really going as planned, is it?

  What do you mean? says Laura.

  I’m soon to be out of a job, she says.

  I can feel her sliding into that place, the place you can’t get her out of, but she catches herself and looks hard at Laura.

  A woman has to know when to stop. Before she becomes embarrassing.

  You’re being dramatic, says Laura.

  Sister says, Girls! Honestly.

  It’s getting late, says Mrs. LaFontaine. We ought to be going. Happy birthday, Sophia. Bee, say good-bye.

  Elizabeth hugs me. Happy birthday, she says, and they head into the main room. I follow them all the way out into the street. The rain has stopped and the streets are wet. I watch them climb into their car. Elizabeth waves from the back window. Thank you for the book, I call out but I don’t think she hears me.

  Jim walks out of the club and Laura follows behind. Come away from the street, he says to me.

  He offers Laura a cigarette and she stares at him, then slowly takes it from his hand.

  I know who you are, he says, lighting her cigarette.

  Really? says Laura.

  Her first love.

  Laura looks down the street. Looks like we both lost. She smiles a little. David hated our father but they’re the same. Isn’t that funny? They just get what they want. One way or another.

  I head back inside, not wanting to hear.

  Where you going? says Jim.

  To get my presents, I say.

  Rita is behind the bar when I walk back in, wiping the counter and straightening the bottles. The stage lights are on now and the big silver star shines like it has just woken up from a nap.

  I walk toward the back room but stop when I hear shouting.

  What in God’s name are you thinking? bursts Mother. What the FUCK is wrong with you?

  Rita looks over at me and turns on a faucet, shaking her head.

  We’re going to be together, says David. It’s what we both wanted.

  This is not a game. I am not one of your games! Mother shouts.

  David’s voice is calm. I won’t have my child raised in a hotel. Surrounded by—

  By what? says Mother.

  You’re not getting any younger. This life you’ve chosen isn’t going to hold up much longer. Let’s be realistic.

  And what do you get out of this deal? she says.

  I can’t quit you. You can’t quit me. What else is there?

  You want to stop me, says Mother, her voice quieter now and low. It’s what men do. You STOP us. You fuck us and knock us up and tuck us away so we never become anything. ANYthing.

  Rita rushes toward me, saying, Baby, let’s go wait outside, but just then Mother comes blazing out of the room and runs right into me.

  What are you doing here? she shouts. WHAT? Why are you always creeping around, spying on me? I’m sick of it, Sophia.
STOP looking at me. Stop watching me. I am NOT your business. Get your own. Leave me alone, Sophia.

  She yells so much it seems like it’s not going to stop. I back up, into the side of the little stage to try to get out of her way, and can feel the heat of a footlight next to my leg as I watch Mother cross the room and walk out the door. Then the heat seems to hit my skin and I smell something burning. It has burned a hole in my birthday dress.

  David comes out and sees me. I am crying now and he’s on his knees in front of me lifting the side of my skirt, holding my leg tight. Jesus, he says, leaning his face close to my leg. You’re okay.

  My dress, I say.

  Jim opens the outside door and says, Sophia, your mother wants me to take you both home.

  Now, hold on, says David, letting go of me and walking toward Jim.

  Jim moves around him. Back off. Just leave her alone, all right?

  And where am I supposed to go? asks David.

  I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Come on, Sophia. I reach up for him to hug me. He pauses and then puts his arms around me to lift me up off the ground. He holds me like that for a long time, then sets me down carefully and takes both my hands in his. Let’s go, kid. You’re okay.

  Outside, Laura and Mother stand close to each other, Mother holding Laura’s arm like she does to me when she’s mad. Laura gently pulls out of Mother’s grip.

  This is madness, says Laura. Then they see us and stop talking and Laura turns away, walking down the street.

  Mother calls after her, but Laura doesn’t turn around. She just waves her hand above her head.

  It’s quiet in the car on the drive home. Jim smokes and Mother keeps twisting a lock of hair on top of her head like she’s fighting it, like it just won’t do what she wants.

  Who does he think he is? Mother asks herself.

  Jim looks at her and sighs.

  What? What do you have to say? she yells.

  How did you think this would go? says Jim.

  Mother crosses her arms. Sometimes I think I can imagine exactly what she was like as a child.

  My dress has a hole in it, I say. My new dress.

  Mother turns her head to her left like she can’t hear me. What are you talking about?

  My dress, I say.

  Yes, I heard that. What are you talking about a hole? she snaps.

  I stepped too close to a footlight, near that little stage. When you were shouting at me, I add. My heart pounds. And my leg stings.