The Show Girl

by Nicola Harrison

“Don’t squint your pretty eyes like that,” he said, taking my hand on the white leather between us. “I grew up here, remember, it will always feel like home to me.”

  It had taken me eighteen hours to get there in Archie’s railcar. I rode through Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, and, oh, I lost count of the others. After a while, though, no matter how luxurious, staying in one train car with no one but his butler, William, to converse with, I began to go a little crazy.

  “I can’t wait to get on the dance floor, Archie. My legs are falling asleep.”

  “Not long now, Olive,” he said.

  We arrived just before the ceremony began and slipped into a pew in the back. Flowers were everywhere, the groom standing at the front of the church anxiously awaiting his bride, the guests chattering, hats bobbing. And then the room silenced as the bridal processional began.

  I’d attended a few weddings before, but I’d never been particularly interested in the details until now. Just the sound of the organ, everyone turning to watch the bride enter the room, arm in arm with her father, filled me with unexpected emotion as I began to imagine what our own wedding day would feel like. I longed for things with my father to be patched up by then. I hadn’t seen him since I’d moved out of their house in Flatbush over a year ago and I couldn’t picture a day so special without my family at my side.

  Afterwards, Archie drove us to his friend’s house for the reception.

  “Here we are,” he said, turning into a long brick driveway and through an ornate wrought-iron gate with two stone columns on either side. At the top of the driveway was a palatial home. A stone staircase led up to the white stone house. There were four columns in front, and between them were two cathedral windows flanking a shiny black front door. It was magnificent.

  We were greeted and led into a crowded, stately room, and after just moments I heard a woman’s voice call out over the others.

  “Archibald!” A woman in a long rose-colored dress with long sleeves and a high neck strode toward us as if she owned the place. “I didn’t see you at the church.”

  “We were in the back, Mother, we made a quick exit,” he said.

  “And you didn’t think to drive me?”

  “I assumed you’d have your driver. Was I wrong?”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point.” I was starting to feel uncomfortable; she’d made no move to acknowledge me.

  “Well, Mother, be that as it may, finally, allow me to introduce you to my fiancée, Miss Olive Shine. I’m so happy for you both to meet.” He said it so proudly, and I loved seeing his face as he spoke.

  “Welcome,” she said, though the way she stood a few feet from me, her hands interlaced in front of her, seemed to suggest the opposite.

  “So nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Carmichael,” I said. “I’ve been so looking forward to it. I just arrived off the train, literally moments before the ceremony began.”

  “Lovely,” she said as she turned and walked toward the reception area decked with white chairs, white flowers, white linens. “This way,” she said. “I’ve seen to it that you’re seated at my table.”

  Archie squeezed my hand as we followed behind her, and I wondered why he hadn’t warned me about her before now.

  “Tell me,” she said to me once we were seated, “how was the train ride?”

  “Very comfortable, thank you. But I’m glad to be here. I’ve never been to Cincinnati before and I’ve been so eager to meet Archie’s family, especially you. You’ve done such a fine job with this gentleman.” I smiled at Archie, but it was as if his mother didn’t even hear me.

  “A city girl,” she said with what I thought seemed a hint of disdain.

  “Well, now I am,” I said, reaching into my purse for my cigarette case out of habit when things felt tense or awkward. But recalling the incident at the Plaza, I quickly changed my mind. Archie was such a kind, warm soul—all my friends commented on how easy he was to talk to, how they felt they’d known him for years when they’d only just met—so I hadn’t expected his mother to come across so icy.

  Archie came to my rescue and took me around the room, introducing me to some of his work associates and their wives. They were pleasant, some a little too interested in the fact that I was a show girl, but mostly, I gathered, it was because they’d never met one before. And then, as we were finally making our way toward the dance floor, Archie made an abrupt turn in the opposite direction and took me with him.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “There’s someone I’d rather not—”

  And then a woman’s voice called out. Younger than his mother’s but shrill just the same. “Archibald, is that you?” Archie kept walking. “Archibald, I know it’s you.” He slowed his step and turned.

  “Louise,” he said.

  Oh, it was that Louise.

  She was attractive, I’d give her that. Blond, with high cheekbones and a disproportionately large mouth. Two slightly less attractive women stood at her sides.

  “Archie, darling, no need to run away with your tail between your legs.” She laughed. “This must be the—”

  “Louise,” Archie said quickly, “this is Olive Shine.” And then he dropped his head slightly, as if he couldn’t believe he had found himself in this situation.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. I could think of plenty of other things to say, but I imagined this was hard for her—to see her former beau in her hometown with his new fiancée. Or maybe she didn’t know that part. Just as I thought it, she took a good hard look at my ring and smirked.

  “You don’t let the grass grow under your feet, do you, Archibald?” She shared a look of disgust with her two friends.

  I bristled, but Archie squeezed my hand, so I kept my powder dry and refrained from giving her an earful.

  “Well, I wish you two the best of luck,” she said with a snort and that oversized mouth, laughing almost, and it infuriated me. Then the three of them walked off.

  “Archie…” I turned to him. “Why didn’t you tell me she’d be here?”

  “I didn’t think she would be, honestly. I’m sorry.”

  “And your mother, she acted as if I were some acquaintance, not her future daughter-in-law.”

  “She just takes a little time to warm up, that’s all.”

  But I wasn’t about to be dismissed, and I wanted to get some dancing in before dinner was served—it wouldn’t hurt if it also bought me a little time before having to face his mother again.

  “You’re feeling blue about all this, aren’t you, Olive,” Archie said. “I really wanted this to be special for you, meeting my family and friends. Sorry about Louise, she’s just sore about how things ended. She’s very traditional, you know, a real—”

  “Forget it, Archie,” I said, kissing him so he’d stop talking about that dreadful woman. “Put it out of your head. We’re here to have a good time, and I know one way you can make it up to me.” I tugged him toward the orchestra.

  “You’ve got that wild look in your eye, Olive—I don’t know if they’ll appreciate the style of dancing you like, the way they do in Manhattan.”

  “Do you really care what everyone thinks?”

  Archie shrugged. He did care, but I was convinced he cared more about me.

  “Please, darling,” I said, skipping toward the orchestra. “Let’s have some fun.”

  Archie paused for a second and then relented. “Let’s,” he said, and led the way.

  We danced the Charleston, and Archie let Cincinnati have it. A few couples danced around the perimeter, a one-two up, one-two up, but boy, did we put them to shame. Archie didn’t hold back, arms were swinging, legs were kicking, he turned me and touched the floor, pulling out all the stops. I always loved a man who could dance. And me, well, let’s just say I gave them a good show.

  We returned to the table as the appetizers were served. By the time we sat down, I felt one hundred times better. It was as it always was—a good dance could get ri
d of any bad feelings, just shake them loose and send them off to God knew where—anywhere but in my head. It worked for Archie, too, I could just see it in him.

  But his mother glared.

  “I’ve been sitting on that train for twenty-four hours straight,” I said cheerfully. “Had to let off some steam.”

  She muttered something and dug into her shrimp cocktail.

  “Mother!” said Archie, who was sitting between us.

  “It’s all right, darling,” I said. “I can fend for myself.”

  Archie looked stricken by her remark, or maybe it was mine, but I wanted to show him that I could defend myself without losing grace. “I completely understand that this new development in the way of women is a regional phenomenon, picking up speed on the East and West Coasts of the country first, but Mrs. Carmichael, I assure you it will be here in your hometown soon enough if it’s not already, so it’s best to prepare yourself.” I speared a shrimp with a cocktail fork, dipped it in the sauce and took a bite. “I don’t know what you just called me, a flapper, perhaps, but I assure you I don’t take it as an insult. Us new girls are able, independent individuals seeking freedom of thought and expression, casting off the shackles of fear.” I’d read those words in a newspaper article on the train just that day. Lecturer Helen Ferguson Buchanan had defended us in a speech at the First Universalist Church and I was all for it. “The rise of flapperism is nothing but the flood of feminism that has been kept down through the ages and is now rushing through broken barriers to its new level.” Thank God for Helen Ferguson Buchanan!

  Mrs. Carmichael kept her head down, staring at the damned shrimp. I tried to keep up my cheerful banter, but the tension at the table was stifling. I looked to Archie, and he gave me a look as if to say, “Stop while you’re ahead.” But the silence was killing me.

  “And it’s not just women, you know, Archie is really quite progressive. He can—”

  “My Archibald is nothing like you,” she finally erupted in a deep, low growl. “He was raised with respect for manners and decorum, and we hardly envisioned any son of ours spending time with a show girl.”

  “Just hold your horses, Mother,” Archie said. “Olive here was also raised in a good family. Her father is—”

  “I don’t care who her father is,” she spat.

  “Well, then you should care who she is, because as you very well know we are engaged to be married. Olive is an exceptionally talented performer in the Ziegfeld shows, Mother,” Archie said firmly.

  “One of the most sought-after shows in New York City,” I chimed in. “You should come for a visit sometime and see for yourself.” I tried to lighten the mood a little, but Archie wasn’t done.

  “More than that, she’s a brilliant opera singer and has been approached by the Metropolitan Opera House.” Mrs. Carmichael raised an eyebrow and so did I—that was a white lie. I’d told him what Alberto had suggested, but I certainly hadn’t acted on it. I wasn’t about to correct him, though. “And Olive’s right, women in New York these days have a lot more freedoms, Mother, you’re just not used to that here. But you need to catch up and fast.”

  “Well…” She blinked a few times, retracting her chin into her neck more than I thought possible. I think she didn’t expect to be scolded by her son. “If you’re a singer,” she directed to me, “then drinking is going to do nothing to help your vocal cords.” She nodded toward my bourbon.

  “Excuse me for disagreeing, Mrs. Carmichael,” I said as demurely as possible, since I didn’t want to embarrass the woman any further, “but on the contrary, I actually find that it relaxes me and allows me to expand my diaphragm more than usual.”

  The other two couples at our table looked wretched, and I felt for them. They’d come for a lovely wedding and were being held captive at this table by a family feud.

  “Do you know what?” I said, leaning over and touching the shoulder of the gentleman next to me. “I didn’t even get your names. We were so busy talking politics over here. I’m Olive.”

  I drank down the bourbon, and when the dinner plates were taken away, and Archie was chatting with some colleagues at a neighboring table about business, I set out to find a refresher. When I approached the bar, however, I saw Louise, and she saw me. She quickly turned her back.

  “Hi there, Louise,” I said. “Just looking for a cocktail, not a catfight.” She turned back to me. “Look, I know these things can get messy, bumping into a former flame.”

  “Messy?” she hissed. “Is that what you want to call it? Archibald called off his engagement to me, which had been well-known and celebrated news in these parts. Our families go back years. And for what? A gold-digging actress he just met.”

  “Whoa there, soldier,” I said, shocked by her insulting accusations. “I’ll have you know that I make my own money, thank you very much, and I didn’t know that Archie had a penny to his name when I first met him. You can rest assured that his money is not what I’m after.”

  She shook her head.

  “As for you and your engagement, I don’t know what to tell you about that, Louise. Maybe a friend to this family is just the last thing he wants or needs.”

  I stood there alone for a few moments while she and her girls walked away.

  “Oh, don’t worry about her, dear.” A middle-aged woman sidled up next to me at the bar. “She can be a real pill, everyone around here knows that.”

  “Thanks…”

  “Peggy,” she said. “I’m a friend of the family.”

  “Olive,” I said.

  “Oh, we know who you are, darlin’.” She laughed. “You’ve been the talk of the town. His mother can be tricky, too, but you’ll get the hang of things, and when you bring a baby or two into this family all will be forgiven. Everyone’s sort of waiting on pins and needles for it, especially after”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“everything that happened.”

  I must have looked dumbfounded.

  “Oh dear,” she said. “You do know about Archie’s first wife, don’t you? Have I gone and said something I shouldn’t have?”

  “What? Yes, Archie told me, such a terrible tragedy. Just unimaginable to lose them both like that. But he’s not really the family type anymore.”

  “Yes, well, he’s let a bit too much time pass between then and now if you ask me, but I’m sure it’s hard to fall in love again after something like that, and there was so much pressure for him to find someone and carry on the family name. And, well…” She looked in the direction of Louise. “That’s what that was, pressure from his mother, but he just needed to find the right one, and now it looks like he has.” She squeezed my arm. “You just don’t waste any time with all that,” she said, reaching over and patting my stomach, “and you’ll be just fine.”

  I danced the heck out of that reception, and I drank all the bourbon they would serve me. At some point, Archie took me back to his family home and settled me in my room.

  “I hope you’ll give my mother a chance, Olive,” he said as he put me to bed. “I’m sorry about the way she spoke to you, but sometimes she doesn’t realize the effect she can have on others.”

  After my chat with that Peggy woman, Archie’s mother seemed like the least of my problems. But I wanted to tell him that his mother should appreciate me, someone who’s pulled herself up and worked hard to get there. She of all people should appreciate that, after seeing Archie create his own fortune and then provide for her, buy her an enormous house and pay for her luxurious lifestyle. Maybe now that she was firmly situated in high society, she didn’t want to let anyone in who might rock the boat. But even in my drunken state I knew better than to bring that up. Mothers were generally sacred territory.

  “She made me feel unwelcome,” I said simply, my head spinning from the hooch. First, I had been rejected by my own family with a curse that I’d never meet a reputable man who’d want anything to do with me, and now, after meeting the man of my dreams who wanted to marry me, his family was rejecting me, t
oo. It felt rotten, and so did my head.

  So when Archie came in the next morning with a telegram from Ziegfeld saying that I was needed back in New York and had to catch the next train out of town, it couldn’t have come at a better time.

  Archie handed it to me.

  “What can he be thinking?” he fumed while I pored over the message. “He can’t just expect you to drop everything and go back to New York so soon. You’re not needed back there until Wednesday.”

  “It says there’s an emergency, one of the girls had to leave the Follies unexpectedly.” We both knew what that meant.

  “I haven’t had a chance to show you around.”

  “I know, darling, but there’ll be other times,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if that was entirely true, given the reception I’d received so far. “One of the girls has probably taken ill, or…” I didn’t want to say it.

  “Or she’s with child, I know, Olive, but that’s hardly your fault.”

  “Of course it’s not my fault, but he relies on his top girls to keep things running smoothly, and he’s asking me to replace her—in the Follies. I’ll be back on top.”

  “Well, he’s going to have to replace you at some point,” Archie said, walking to the window.

  His remark stopped me in my tracks. “Excuse me?”

  “Maybe not right away,” he went on, “but this year or next year, certainly sometime before we get married, he’s going to have to find himself the next Olive Shine soon enough.”

  “Why would he have to do that?”

  Archie looked at me, surprised. “Well, you’re hardly going to carry on as a show girl once we’re married.”

  “Why not?” I said, taken aback by his words.

  He looked at me with genuine confusion. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think your performing career would continue once we were man and wife, did you? I can’t have you wearing barely anything, tantalizing every man out there with your beauty.”

  He meant it as a compliment, I could tell from the way he spoke, but I couldn’t believe it. It was as if I were having the very same conversation I’d had with my father, but with Archie.