Chapter Forty-Four
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
S HE KNEW BETTER THAN TO DELUDE HERSELF. B UT UNTIL THE SHIP bound for France pulled away from its mooring, freeing itself into the river that would lead out to the wild, untamed sea and an uncertain future, Evelyn clung to her last wisps of hope.
Hope that Thomas would leave his sham of a marriage and come after her. Hope that Dr. Samson would bring everyone else to their senses. Hope that her friends would all quit the show in solidarity. Hope that they would forgo their stardom and salaries to stand with her. Hope that they would get on this ship with her and run away to France, where they could all dance at the Folies Bergère, drink themselves silly with champagne, and relish their new lives away from this damnable, pathetic scene.
But her hopes were dashed against the rocks as the tide carried the SS Hibernia off on her timely departure. Thomas would not come. Dr. Samson could not move him. And her friends were too poor and disenfranchised to have morals or sentiment—they couldn’t afford them. Not in this economy.
Evelyn stayed leaning against the banister of the top deck for a long time—perhaps longer than was healthy. She supposed she was searching the dock for anyone who might have been late, anyone who might have wanted to say goodbye or run away with her.
But when the dock dissipated into the distance, she remained, bidding a final farewell to Manhattan, the only home she’d ever known.
To her surprise, someone said goodbye right back.
Miss Banting’s—painted so tall she and Evelyn were practically eye to eye—stood victorious against the wall of a warehouse overlooking the river. She waved farewell … apparently to her missing weight, but as far as Evelyn was concerned, the woman might as well have been waving at her.
She thought back to the last time she’d seen this great lady. Back then, she’d been so afraid of change.
But she knew better now.
Nothing changed. Not really.
And that’s how the story ends.