Chapter 25
25
J oey was just starting the engine when I reached the windowless passenger door. “Wait,” I said breathlessly. “I want to talk about this.”
“About what?” Joey spoke loudly over the noisy motor. “There’s nothing left to talk about, Tiny. Just go home.”
Without being invited—in fact, I’d been dismissed—I opened the door and hopped in. “No.” I shut myself in the car, put my hands in my lap and looked at him. “I can’t. I won’t.”
Joey turned off the engine and squinted at me. “Have I told you how annoying you are?”
“Not today.”
“And also how weak and impulsive? And for such a smart girl, how stupid you act sometimes?”
I squirmed, but it was no less than I deserved. “Go ahead. I can take it.”
“You deliberately betrayed me, Tiny. After everything we went through last week. I told you something in confidence and you went right to him with it.”
“I didn’t! I swear to you, I didn’t. He surprised me by showing up in my room late last night”—and here Joey flinched—“and we went for a drive. We got to...” I flapped a hand in the air, unsure how to proceed. “...talking, and he started in about taking revenge for the heist into his own hands because he owes money to a whiskey distributor. I got scared for you, Joey, I had to tell him!”
“I told you, I can take care of myself.” Joey’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry. I know I did the wrong thing, but I never meant to betray you. It just came out. Please forgive me.” I put a hand on his forearm, and he shrugged it off.
“You should have left it to me like I asked you to.”
“You asked me to set up a meeting!”
“No, I didn’t! You offered, and if you recall, at the end of the night, I told you to drop it. And I meant what I said.”
“I know, but...”
“But nothing.” He stuck a finger in my face. “You fucked up. If we hadn’t been at the boathouse last night, he would have taken those drugs and left me with nothing.”
No point in reminding Joey he’d stolen the drugs to begin with—these guys all played by their own rules. “I wouldn’t have let him.”
“Ha! You’ve got no sway over him.”
“You’re wrong. He listens to me.” What possessed me to say such a thing, I have no idea.
Joey smirked. “If you think that, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.” He cocked his head, looking more like the old Joey. “What did he do, tell you he loves you?”
My chest and neck flushed with heat. “Shut up.”
“Ooh, she’s blushing.” Joey poked his finger in my side repeatedly. “Did he proclaim his devotion for you, is that it? Is he going to build you a house on Boston Boulevard and buy you a fancy electric car and name his yacht after you? The Tiny.” Joey framed the words in the air with his hands. “Hmm, not quite grand enough, is it?” He widened his gesture. “The Frances Kathleen. Eh, a little better.”
Irritation bubbled up in me, but I was relieved he was back to teasing. “You remembered my full name. Impressive. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to spell it.”
He turned to me with murderous eyes and poked my side once more. “Get out of my car, ya no-good, backstabbing floozy. Or do I have to drive his girl around as well as feed her?”
“I’ll take a ride home, thanks. Sweet of you to offer.”
Joey looked at me a moment and exhaled. “I should put you out at the curb right now.”
“But you won’t.”
A pause. “I guess not. “
I grinned. I couldn’t help it.
“Why can’t I stay mad at you, anyway?”
Linking my fingers, I tucked them under my chin and batted my lashes. “Because I’m so adorable?”
He scrutinized my face. “Nope. That ain’t it.”
I dropped the pose. “Just drive me home already.”
Rolling his eyes, he started the engine again. “Sure thing, Little Tomato. I only live to serve you.”
Crossing my arms, I turned my face to the window so he wouldn’t see me smile at his nickname for me, which only a week ago would have made me scowl.
When Joey pulled into the drive at my house, I was reluctant to get out of the car, for some reason. “Have you had lunch?”
Joey looked amused. “And if I said no, what are you gonna do about it?”
“Um...invite you in? Scramble you an egg? I do know how to do that.”
He smirked. “Sounds tempting but no, I can’t. I have to work the dinner shift at the restaurant today.”
“Oh. OK. Maybe I’ll see you later this week?” What the hell are you doing? Just get out of the ca r.
“Maybe.” His tone changed, as if he was irritated I’d asked about seeing him again. “But this week’s busy with moving my ma to my sister’s and all. Plus I’m looking to get out of town. You tell your boyfriend to get in touch with me, and fast.”
“He’s not really my boyfriend.” Then I was embarrassed—Joey knew I was sleeping with Enzo. If he wasn’t my boyfriend, what was he? “I mean...I don’t really know what we are.”
Joey switched his focus out the windshield. “It’s none of my business. Just tell him.”
I nodded as I got out, a funny, prickly feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if a cactus had lodged there or something. Lifting my hand in a stupid little wave, which Joey didn’t return, I watched him back out and drive down the street. I was glad he wasn’t angry anymore, but I still didn’t feel right about things between us. Maybe I was just worried about the deal with Enzo.
That had to be it.
Five days later I hadn’t heard from either Enzo or Joey, and I was nearly out of my mind with worry. I started checking the newspapers every afternoon to make sure I didn’t read about any new gang warfare or heists that took the lives of young mobsters.
Perhaps I should have just left it alone. After all, I was lucky in some regards—the feds I’d seen at the garage had questioned Daddy on Monday but hadn’t discovered anything incriminating enough to arrest him. The garage was “sold” to Raymond DiFiore the following day, and I nearly laughed at the thought of the feds constantly breathing down his neck. I hoped they caught him and threw him in the slammer. Sometimes I fantasized about Sam the Barber accosting him in a dark alley, demanding payment for hauling a load of booze across the river, and roughing him up when he refused.
And perhaps best of all, my monthly arrived Sunday afternoon. When I noticed it, I was so delighted I dropped my head in prayerful thanks, offering up a hasty promise that I’d be more careful from now on. Aside from a little fooling around, Enzo had taken precautions, but still—no girl wants to face the hell of discovering she’s in a family way before she’s married. It had worked out in the end for Bridget, but she and Vince were so in love, I’m certain they’d have married eventually anyway.
Bridget had returned from the beach with the girls and her three sons as well, and we’d all had supper together Monday night at her apartment over the store. Daddy and I ignored each other throughout the entire meal, each going out of our way to avoid even making eye contact. If Bridget or Molly noticed, they didn’t mention it. Both of them knew about the ordeal last week, which was why they’d grabbed the younger ones and left town. I assumed they were each so glad to see us all sitting around the table again like nothing had happened, they didn’t want to risk any more unpleasantness. It was easy to avoid talking about it, since Mary Grace chattered incessantly about their trip to the beach, showing off shells she had collected, a post card she’d purchased for her scrapbook, and her freckled skin.
Every day that week I worked a bit for Bridget at the store, and had to tell anyone who came in looking for “maple syrup,” our password for whisky, that we were out of business. I mourned the income I’d lose since I wouldn’t be making tips on deliveries anymore —finding a new job was a must, but I couldn’t motivate myself to look for one.
After work, I’d go home and see to the girls and the house as if nothing had changed, but I just felt like something was off, as if my bones were jumbled up inside my skin. My appetite was nonexistent, I had trouble sleeping at night, and my fingernails were bitten to the quick. For a few days I thought maybe it was related to my monthly—doctors used to say women suffered from hysteria, a particular emotional frenzy caused by disturbances in a woman’s body. It was quack stuff, but for a day or so I began to wonder if there wasn’t a grain of truth behind it. My bleeding stopped after the usual four days, but the unease lingered .
This is ridiculous, I told myself Thursday evening as I scanned the headlines of Daddy’s paper. I’ve got to find out what’s happening or I’ll go nuts. Had Enzo and
99
Joey come to an agreement? Was Joey still in town? And what about the whisky—had Enzo come up with the money to pay Meloni or was there a goddamn wedding next Saturday?
Friday afternoon I went to the telephone and stared at it. Should I call Joey? What would I say? I felt even less comfortable calling Enzo, not that I knew how to reach him. But he would probably be at the club tonight...maybe I could manage to run into him and find out what was going on.
I called Evelyn, whom I still hadn’t seen this week. Between her job at the bakery and her nights out with Ted, she’d been much busier than usual, and I’d been keeping to myself. She was thrilled to hear from me, and even more excited when I asked her if she’d like to go down to Club 23 tonight.
“Ted and I were planning on going dancing, so why don’t you come with us? That’s our favorite spot, since it’s where we met. I can’t believe it was only ten days ago, I’m so crazy about him.” Her voice was thick and sweet.
“I’m happy things are going so well for you,” I said, tamping down the jealousy in my gut, “but I don’t want to be a nuisance on your date.”
“Nonsense! You’re never a nuisance, and I haven’t seen you in forever. Besides, a whole slew of people are going down there tonight, I was going to phone you about it anyway. Ted says they’ve got a swell jazz band there from down south somewhere. Real Dixieland music, great for dancing.”
“Sounds like fun.” And it did, for the most part. Not that I was much of a dancer, but the prospect of being out with a group of young people all having a good time excited me. When was the last time I’d done that? “I just have to make sure the girls are set for the night. Daddy’s been working late at the new location. ”
“New location?”
I sighed. “I’ll tell you about it later. What matters is that we get together and have some fun tonight, just like old times.”
She squealed with delight. “Perfect! We’ll pick you up at nine, OK?”
“I’ll be ready.” I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.
“Ready for what?”
I jumped at Molly’s voice behind me. “Oh! Uh, I’m seeing Evelyn later.”
She raised a brow at me. Molly used to swallow my half-truths quite easily, but lately she’d become more perceptive. “Uh huh. And what are you wearing to see Evelyn? That?” She nodded toward my navy skirt and white admiral middy with the faint yellow stain on the front.
“Um...” I looked down as if to examine my clothing, but she caught the pink in my cheeks.
“Aha!” She crossed her arms. “No use lying to me, Tiny. I saw him, remember?”
I bit my lip. How could I forget? Enzo had come to the house to collect me one afternoon last week, and Molly had answered the door. It was the day he’d discovered the connection between the hearses from Daddy’s garage and the heist. I shuddered recalling how angry he’d been.
“Are you screwy in the head or what?” she asked. “I know he looks like a movie star and all, but don’t be stupid, Tiny. He’s dangerous!”
“He isn’t,” I insisted, although my tone rang false. “He’s the one who gave me the money to send you and Bridget and the kids out of town—he’s the one who told me it could be too dangerous for you to stay.” That was true, at least.
Molly narrowed her eyes. “Men will say anything they have to in order to get what they want, and they usually just want one thing. S-E-X.”
“Jesus, Molly. Where do you hear this stuff? ”
She rolled her eyes—now that I was used to. “I’m nearly sixteen, I don’t have to hear it from anyone. It’s obvious.”
“Well, good. Then that’s one lesson I don’t need to teach you. But as for me, I’m old enough and smart enough to handle myself, thank you very much.” I drew myself up to my full height, but I was still shorter than she was by two inches. “Now. I’ve got a proposition for you. If you help me find something to wear and agree to watch Mary Grace tonight, I’ll give you two extra dollars this week and let you go to the movies tomorrow night without her.”
She considered it. “And an hour later for my curfew.”
“Half hour. I already extended it to ten thirty, remember?”
“You also already agreed to give me two more dollars for helping with laundry and cooking, which I’ve been doing this week.”
That was true. I hadn’t eaten much this week, but Molly had made four suppers that looked and tasted much better than my usual underdone scrambled eggs and overdone bacon. “Three dollars, then.”
“Deal.” She grinned. “Now let’s go upstairs and look at our closets, I might even have something you could borrow for tonight—I saved some money this spring and bought a dress I never told you about.”
“Why?” I followed her up the stairs.
“Because it’s short. And satin. And Rosie told me not to show it to you because you’d never let me wear it.”
I stopped halfway up the staircase. Rosie was Evelyn’s twin sister, although they looked nothing alike and had opposite personalities. When angel-faced Rosie wasn’t breaking hearts or gossiping, she worked at J.L. Hudson’s department store. “You went shopping downtown by yourself?”
Molly looked at me over her shoulder. “For heaven’s sake, Tiny. A girl’s gotta live a little, you know? And I’m not a kid anymore.”
I blinked in surprise, and then nodded. “I’m counting on that.”
At nine on the dot, Ted opened the door to the back seat of his car, and I climbed in next to a young man I’d never seen before. I was about to introduce myself when Evelyn let out a wolf whistle from the front.
“Jezebel!” she cried. “Look at you in that dress, Tiny!”
Settling in, I tried to arrange the ivory satin skirt so that it covered more of my legs. “It’s Molly’s. I borrowed it.”
“Molly’s? Your father lets her wear that? It almost looks like a nightgown!” Evelyn couldn’t keep the shock from her voice.
“I doubt he’s seen her in it. He’s not around much.” Her comments in front of the men annoyed me a bit, but I could see why she was stunned. The dress did look a bit like lingerie, with thin straps over my shoulders and a low square neck. It probably didn’t show as much of Molly’s chest as it did mine since she was taller and bigger than I was, but Evelyn’s eyes were glued to the lace-trimmed bodice of the dress.
“And where did you get that?” she squeaked, pointing at the choker I wore around my neck. She looked at my hair, which I’d curled and styled, the black and silver headband Molly had lent me—also purchased on the sly—and my red lips. “Gee whiz, Tiny, you look like another person! I’d hardly recognize you as the girl I once knew.” She laughed, but I couldn’t help thinking she was right.
“It’s 1923, Evvy.” I took a cigarette from my little mesh evening bag. “And I’ve discovered I like living dangerously.”
The young man next to me quickly offered to light my smoke.
On the way downtown Evelyn introduced me to Ted’s friend Walter Lewis, my companion in the back seat. He was friendly and attractive in an Ivy League sort of way, with his natty bow tie and severely parted hair. But I hoped there was no expectation that I would be his date for the evening.
I had other plans .
My stomach flipped uncontrollably as we went down the cement steps into the hidden vestibule that served as the entrance for Club 23. Enzo and I had once shared a kiss in the dark, tight space between the outer and inner doors of the underground speakeasy. My toes curled inside my satin t-straps as I recalled the way I’d been backed up against the brick wall, one hand pinned over my head, one knee hitched up to his hip.
We were granted permission to enter, and walked down the long cement-walled hallway toward the music, our heels click-clacking on the tiles. A Dixieland beat thumped louder and louder as we approached the velvet drapes that opened onto the dark, ritzy club. As usual, the dance floor down in front, as well as all the cocktail tables and large crescent-shaped booths lining the two-tiered room, were packed with revelers. The bar along the back was mobbed as well. The room was hazy with cigarette smoke, and the entire place smelled of perfume, tobacco, and whisky, but underneath it all, I detected the faintest whiff of sex and sweat.
The men checked their hats at the door, and as I looked at the attractive, smiling girl who took them, I wondered again about Enzo’s offer to work at the club. Would I be happy here, night after night, working while I watched my friends come to have fun? Watching Enzo as he played host, buying drinks and kissing hands and making deals under the table? I looked around but didn’t see him anywhere.
“Hey, there’s Rosie. Come on.” Evelyn grabbed my hand and the group moved across the room, skirting tables dressed with white tablecloths and low candles. Along the way, Ted stopped a waitress to let her know we’d like cocktails at the end booth on the far wall, and I scanned the club over my shoulder again for Enzo. I was still looking back when we reached the velvet-curtained booth, but I heard Rosie’s mocking voice above the music.
“Well, would you look what the cat dragged in. Heya, kiddo, nice dress. You knock over your sister’s closet or what?”
Annoyed, I turned toward her. Despite the fact that she was only a few months older than me, she was always calling me kiddo because of my size, and she didn’t mean it affectionately. We got along all right, and she was always up for a good time, but I much preferred Evelyn’s sweet to Rosie’s tart. Nothing Rosie liked more than stirring up trouble, which was why her eyes glittered with pure mischief as she poked at me from where she sat, right on some poor sot’s lap.
I was about to bite back when I bit my tongue instead.
Because the sot was Joey.