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Authors: Suzanne Hayes

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BOOK: Empire Girls
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“Not to me she didn’t,” Bessie said, then caught herself. “I don’t know what business it is of yours.”

“I’m looking for a fella named Asher,” I said, keeping my tone light. “He’s a relative. When we last heard from him, he was in this neck of the woods. My sister and I think he might have gotten into some trouble. You said Daisy had gotten into a bind, and I just—”

“You just nothing. Don’t go looking for things in here. In the city, yeah, take what you can grab, but this is Cat’s place. Private property. You gotta learn what that means.” Bessie picked up a common martini glass. “And if you don’t—smash! Into the dustbin you go.”

* * *

I returned to Empire House late that night. We each gave Sonny a dollar to keep the back door unlocked, and Viv and Maude, still jazzed up after our shift, stayed put in his kitchen to swipe some hot cocoa while I tramped upstairs. When I poked my head through the floor, the room was still lit, and I spotted Rose at the hidden window again, wearing our mother’s nightgown, her expression alternately dreamy and distressed. I was used to my changeable moods—they swept through me like small tornados. I rather enjoyed them, those dramatic reminders that I was alive, but in Rose, usually so placid, it was disturbing.

“Hey-ya!” I said too loudly, and she jumped. “Can’t sleep?”

Rose drew the collar of her nightgown tightly around her neck. “My thoughts are racing,” she said, but didn’t offer a reason. She smiled in an attempt to mask the disappointment in her eyes. It wasn’t me Rose was waiting to come up through the floor. Only later did I realize I should have asked. I should have settled in next to her and offered her a listen, drawing her out. Instead, the familiar spike of irritation ran roughshod over any tender feelings.

“While you were off staring into space,” I said, “I was acting like a regular Mata Hari.”

“What did you find out?”

“Well...” What felt like real juice in the speakeasy felt like failure in the soft, quiet glow of the attic.

Rose frowned. “Well, what?”

I told her about Daisy’s mystery boyfriend, and of my suspicions regarding Cat and Nell. “And Daisy worked at Cat’s for three years. Even if Asher wasn’t her guy, she had to have run into him at some point.”

“I suppose,” Rose said distractedly. “But there’s got to be a reason why Nell and Cat would lie. It makes me uneasy, Ivy. Why deter us?”

I shrugged. “All I know is there are a lot of mysteries attached to Cat’s Place and Empire House. We know Father was connected to this house—we have his painting—and it stands to reason Asher’s story fits in somewhere. Since Daisy left under curious circumstances, it makes sense to start with her.”

“I agree,” she said, and went to the dressing table, pulled out the top drawer and dumped out the contents onto her bed. It was a treasure trove of Daisy.

Rose spread the menus, theater tickets and assorted odds and ends on the floor between us. “We don’t have much to go on,” Rose said, picking up a matchbook, “but we might as well start with what we’ve got.”

I smiled and dug in, relieved Rose’s innate practicality had resurfaced. I brushed off any lingering concern about her and focused on the remnants of Daisy’s life in the city. The girl knew how to live it up. She’d been to the theater on Bleecker Street for a matinee of
The Thief of Bagdad
and spent a whole night’s tip money on a ticket to
Desire Under the Elms
at the Greenwich Village Theater. She’d dined at the Mandarin Palace in Chinatown and kept the fortune from her cookie: “Time is precious, but truth is more precious than time.”

That was a kicker. I would have held on to it myself. These small pieces of Daisy’s life were a nice introduction—I was starting to wish she hadn’t left.

“Here’s something,” Rose said. She’d flipped open the matchbook. On the inside was written: 3 p.m. A—Dr. Harold Spence, 67 Oleander Drive. –D.”

“Do you know where that is or what it may mean?” asked Rose.

“There are many reasons a woman sees a doctor,” I said, though my mind immediately went to one.

“Yes,” Rose said, lowering her eyes briefly. “But what about that A? What if it’s for Asher? Maybe this is about him, not her.”

“Let’s investigate this doc further,” I said. “And keep asking around about Asher as best we can.”

Rose placed the matchbook to the side. “Ivy,” she said while placing it in the discard pile, “can you press Cat for more information?”

“I can try, but she’s not exactly forthcoming.” I didn’t want to put the squeeze on Cat. I’d never felt intimidated by anyone before. When she was around I felt like I’d swallowed a stone.

“Maybe not in front of others, but if you caught her alone...maybe,” Rose said. “She seems different speaking person to person.”

“That might be true up in the dress shop, but I’m not sure that’s the case down in the dungeon.”

“Maybe you haven’t given her a chance. She asked me a number of questions today, and seemed very interested in Mother and Father, and even Forest Grove. I almost wish we’d had more time to talk.”

Rose touched my hand ever so briefly. “Caution usually isn’t your first choice in any situation, even when warranted. Care to tell me why?”

I didn’t want to scare Rose, or reveal too much of my own fears, but I had no idea if she also felt as though we’d walked into a play in the middle of the story, enraging the actors who’d already set their marks. I’d never felt unwanted before, and it was an unfamiliar feeling. Though Cat had employed us, and Nell had given us a room, I couldn’t shake the fact that they’d done so grudgingly, as though our mere presence was an insult. My confusion unsettled me, and my usual impulsiveness, something in which I took great pride, suddenly became a detriment. Tread carefully, Rose was fond of saying, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that she had a point. “I’m simply being careful.”

Rose smiled. “Perhaps this city is having a good influence on you, sister.”

“Possibly,” I said. “But I’d rather talk about how it’s influenced you.”

“Oh, posh.”

“I think a certain Italian war hero could tell me a thing or two.”

“War hero? Where did you get that?”

“Maude said he fought. I might have embellished a little bit.”

“I’ll ask Nell again about Asher soon enough,” she said, eager to change the subject. “I’ve not much experience spotting a liar, but I am familiar with a break in pattern. If she acts strangely after my question, I’ll know something is amiss.”

Something was already amiss, I wanted to say. But I was used to the erratic and had no experience with patterns. “Good plan,” I said, and placed my hand over her warm one, threading my fingers through hers, dreading the point where she’d pull away, where I’d have to let go.

CHAPTER 9

R
ose

IVY'S HAND WAS
warm yet tentative. I thought I might pull my hand away, as we’d not been clingy sisters, even when we were little, except for the occasional “cuddle up” as we counted the seconds between lightning and thunder to estimate the distance of a storm. But something told me she needed me. And her eyes, they said a thousand words. She’d changed, somehow...that night working in God-Knows-Where.

I felt the city encroaching ever nearer to my heart. It was rain pouring out from a hole in the ceiling as Viv, Maude, Ivy, Claudia and myself ran for buckets and laughed as Viv tried to sing us to sleep over the incessant tapping the drops made at the bottom. I felt it in the way I was waiting, every second, to run into Santino again. I even lingered in the stairway for much too long, every time I went in or out of Empire House. Not to mention my clothes... The city was so hot. It had been officially declared a heat wave in June, one that would last the summer. That heat made me choose loose clothing that exposed more of my skin than I’d shown since I was a child. The heat itself was running in tandem with our search for Asher. I started thinking of it as “Devil’s Breath.”

So, that night...instead of taking her hand, I pulled it away and said, “Let’s go to sleep and sort the whole thing out tomorrow.” I’d barely got the words out before Ivy passed out cold.

She fell asleep fully dressed. She must have worked so hard.

But doing what?

* * *

We rose early the next day and dressed quickly so we wouldn’t miss breakfast.

Ivy wore another outrageous mix of some things she’d brought from home. Clothes she wore when she’d create her theatrical pieces. A blue chiffon blouse and a short white skirt with a frill near the bottom. To finish off the look, she had a black silk flower pinned to her short hair, like a Tahitian doll.

She scurried ahead of me like a child, but I couldn’t get our beds made properly, the sheets were too big and had to be tucked under just right. “Leave it, Rose! What do we care?”

“I don’t know...pride in our surroundings? Do we have any of that left?” I asked, but she was a flight down and an imagination away from me already.

When we got to the dining room it was already full. There were two seats, however, with clean plates, and Nell was right there waiting for us.

“Come in! Sit down The coffee is hot and the bread is fresh,” she trilled.

“And the bacon is fatty!” said Maude.

Nell held out a starched white apron. I went to take it and then she pulled it back so quickly I thought the strings might snap.

“I suppose you can eat breakfast before you begin working. But please note that in the future I’d prefer for you to come down earlier, eat with Santino and Claudia in the Garden, and then help with the meal. Will that do, Rose?”

We sat down facing the group, and Claudia approached us. “Would you like coffee, miss?” she asked us both.

“God, yes,” said Ivy.

“Yes, thank you,” I said as the girl struggled with the heavy-looking silver pot.

“Let me help you, sweetheart,” I said. She looked at me with gratitude. Ivy looked at me like I was keeping a secret.

“No, miss, today you sit. Tomorrow I’ll let you carry the whole pot.”

We laughed a little together. Ivy eyed me even more suspiciously.

“We’ve had a conversation, Claudia and I, I’m not keeping anything from
you.
I’m teaching the girl how to read,” I said.

“And who gave you permission to do that?” asked Nell, whose hands were now on my shoulders.

The room had gone quiet. Everyone was looking at me, and Ivy shifted her chair away from me as she put her cloth napkin over her face. I’d embarrassed her again.

“I didn’t think it would harm anything,” I said.


Harm
is an odd kind of word, Rose Adams. Some things can seem the best intentioned, yet turn out to be the most damaging kind of thing. We don’t need anyone selling this girl hopes and dreams. Do we, Claudia? Her life will be difficult. She needs to learn about that right now. She’s tough, this one.”

“But why wouldn’t I be able to teach her how to read?” I asked.

Ivy kicked me under the table. Claudia smiled, and Nell sighed, clapped my shoulders once, dropped the apron on my lap and walked away.

“I think I won that one, Claudia!” I said.

“Eat your food, Rose,” said Ivy.

Santino, who had waltzed in gracefully from the kitchen, was making sure everything was just so on the platters.
He’s quiet and quick,
I thought.

Santino took a spoon to a water glass. He clanged on it until the room grew quiet again.

“Everyone? We have new tenants here at Empire House. Let’s do a little introduction, shall we?”

“Hear, hear!” shouted Maude with a mouthful of bacon.

A large, overdramatic sigh came from the end of the table where three chubby women huddled together. Their conversation rapid and in another language...

“Adams sisters, meet the female politicos. All they do is plot to overthrow the government—it’s tiresome, really. Don’t call them by name. They don’t believe in differences. Call them Sisters in Arms, one, two, three. Don’t try to open the door for them, either. Everyone is equal, don’t you know.”

The Sisters in Arms were not laughing, however. They gathered up a pile of what looked like newsletters and left the room in a group. “You’re a shit, Sonny,” said one of them as they left.

“Didn’t you notice we’ve evolved already?” asked Santino to their backs. “We’ve won! Relax, suffrage was a decade ago.”

One of them turned around. “We’ve won nothing yet, and it’s only been five years!” one of them said, and they left, slamming the front doors behind them.

“We actually have lovely talks when we’ve been drinking,” said Sonny.

“And you’ve met Maude and Viv, obviously.”

Viv just raised her eyebrows at me from over the table. I could tell she didn’t like the attention Santino was giving us. “Other than the factory workers who leave early, come home late and are moving in and out of this place like transients, I believe we are all accounted for, so, what do you think, ladies?”

“‘Life is but a stage, and all of us, merely players...’” said Ivy. “Thank you for introducing us to the cast of Empire House, as if we didn’t already know everyone, Sonny.”

“This is Rose’s first breakfast with the entire ‘cast’ as you put it. Which was clever, by the way.”

Ivy got up and bowed. She’s so open, my sister. Ready for any and all situations.

I was the one who made the breakfast awkward.

“Do you prefer Santino or Sonny?” I asked. Everyone stopped laughing. I realized there’d been a rhythm of sorts to the previous conversation, and I’d clapped on the offbeat.

“It doesn’t matter to me, not when I’m in the company of such a beautiful woman. I’d like to think that I could find the poetry that lives inside her,” said Santino, staring straight at me.

“And I like to think I can find the bull that lives inside handsome cooks who are Casanovas,” said Ivy.

* * *

Jimmy was waiting for me in the foyer of Empire House as we finished breakfast and I put on my apron.

He had a large basket with fabric in it. There was a note, as well. “This is for you,” he said, dropping it at my feet.

I picked up the basket, confident I could do the work, and felt important.

“Poet around?” he asked.

As I unlocked the doors I said, “Santino? The chef? Yes, he’s in the garden. But he’s busy. Working. Now, who do
you
work for? Nell? Or Cat?”

“Both, really. Sometimes I drive, sometimes I work here. Whatever Cat and Nell need. I’m a handyman of sorts.”

The Handyman of MacDougal,
I thought,
would be a great name for a new poem, Edna.

We were standing in the dim foyer playing an odd game of chess without knowing why. I will admit that I was not happy to be alone with him. Yet he might be the key to unlocking Asher.

“You’re a looker, you know. Not like your sister—she’s a loud kinda doll. You’re a quiet looker. Always more dangerous. Santino better be careful if he’s got his eyes on you.”

“I’d think that would be the other way around, if you were any sort of gentleman.”

“Well, I’m not. But he is, so be careful with him. The Poet’s my friend. Don’t go messin’ with him.”

“I couldn’t even consider it! He’s a loon!” I said too loud, too high-pitched, too nervous. “Besides I don’t think I see an Italian Cook in my future. I’m trying to get my house back and get out of the city.”

“Ohhh, I see. You don’t know,” he said.

“I’m really getting tired of talking to you,” I said.

He lit a cigarette and handed it to me. “Trust me, you’ll need it.”

I don’t know why...but I took it, inhaled and began to cough.

Jimmy laughed and came around the counter and hit me on the back.

“Look,” he said. “He may be Italian, but he’s done a good job savin’ all his money. And he won awards in the war. Besides, he’s educated. I know, that shocked me, too.”

Different layers to Santino were not helping with the rising heat I felt whenever I saw him, or how I’d read and reread his poem a hundred times. I couldn’t think about it, so I asked him about Asher instead.

“Have you ever met a man who could very well look like me, and whose name is Asher Adams?”

“You’re a direct one, aren’t ya? Sort of different than the other day when you wanted to stay in my car.”

“Please, Jimmy...if you know anything...”

“Used to be a guy that might have looked like you...long gone, that one.”

“Never mind,” I said. I wouldn’t get anything from him, either. But at least the questions got him to leave.

I went up to the penthouse, where Claudia helped me set up a little sewing room of sorts off in the corner, under the eaves. Too soon, I was sewing, and I didn’t see anything but fabric for hours.

By the time I realized I’d finished the last garment in the basket, I saw the day was gone. The sun was a honey-gold color, and its rays reached in and encased our attic in the most delightful glow.

Knowing there was a chance I could get paid that very night, I picked up the basket and ran down the steps, losing a few pieces of trim and feathers here and there in my rush. I wanted to get back to Cat’s Dress Emporium before she closed for the day.

I flew out the front doors and down the street, not even caring how it looked to others. I pushed past people returning from work and those who might be on their way. Everyone was busy in the city. Busy with their very own lives, mysteries, jobs and dreams. I was running, it’s true, but I was noticing that perhaps it wasn’t that I felt invisible at all. Perhaps it was that for the first time, I was being noticed.

Cat was just closing the doors to the shop when I rounded the corner of the alleyway.

“Wait!” I said.

“Rose?”

“Yes!” I reached the doors and she opened them for me. I tumbled inside, placed the basket at her feet, and then fell onto the couch to rub my sore arms.

“Why on earth were you running?”

“I wanted to make sure I got here before you closed.”

“Why?”

“I finished the batch Jimmy brought over, and I thought I might get paid.”

Cat sat next to me and began going through the work.

“I see. I hope you didn’t rush...no...I see...oh, Rose. You are talented. I may have been blowing some smoke with you earlier, you know. A girl’s got to have some self-esteem if she’s gonna make it in this town. Have a straight back and a good smile that can take a few hits. So I thought I’d give you a set of compliments to make you feel good. Now? Now I can see I was right. These seams are simply perfect. And I love the notions. Wait here...” she said as she gracefully got up and floated to the back of the store. “I keep the cash in the safe.”

I felt flushed with pride. I bit my knuckle out of pure excitement and leaned on the counter where a stack of papers stood too high. And because I’m who I am, those papers spilled out onto the floor and weren’t papers at all. It was a stack of mail.

Sorting through it, I found our first solid clue as to Asher’s whereabouts.

It was a postcard depicting a roller coaster in Coney Island. I don’t know why I turned it over, really I don’t. I’m not normally a snoop. Fate? Maybe...all I know is that the back wasn’t blank, there was a note.

“It’s best this way. Please don’t worry.-D.” The same script as the matchbook in Daisy’s things.

And then, in smaller print at the bottom of the card, “Coney Island Cards & CO.”

I slipped the postcard into my apron pocket.

“Is everything all right, Rose?” asked Cat, who emerged again, reaching out toward me with an envelope. The way she looked, just then, reminded me so much of Nell that very morning with the apron that I thought she might pull back, as well. Only she didn’t, and soon I was holding real money in my hands. New York was proving to be kinder than I’d imagined.

“Now, will you show yourself out? I have some terrible bookkeeping to get straight.”

“Do you need help?”

“Don’t tell me you’re good with bookkeeping, too?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact I always...”

“Yes, yes, yes...Rose. You need to learn how to breathe. I’ll enlist your help another time. Try and get back to Empire House and enjoy your evening.”

“May I speak with Ivy?” I asked.

“Of course. Just... Well, go through the magic curtains, my dear.”

I had to tell Ivy about the postcard. And I wasn’t a thief, so I thought I’d tell her while she was working so that I’d be able to put the postcard back on my way out. Besides, I just knew that we’d find an Oleander Drive in Coney Island, and I was eager to tell my sister.

I looked at the red velvet curtains where Ivy’d disappeared the day before.

I thought of going back to Empire House and waiting for her, but she might be drunk when she returned, or too exhausted to try and plan what our next move would be. I walked to the curtain and began to push it back, wondering for a moment if I’d return as changed as she’d seemed to be. Was I ready to take that step into the unknown?

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