“Is this Ms. Lewin?”
“Yes.”
“This is Brenda from Astor. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m afraid your father’s had a fall.”
Rose closed her eyes and swayed ever so slightly, trying not to panic. “Is he okay?”
The woman’s answer was not reassuring. “You should meet us at Mount Sinai West.”
“I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
New York City, 1952
Darby sat down to write a letter to Mother as soon as she got back to the Barbizon. Strange how now that she’d been expelled from Gibbs, her room took on an unexpected, nostalgic hue. She’d miss the view from the window. Even the garish curtains and bedspread seemed endearing.
The door opened with a bang and Maureen rushed in.
“Darby, I heard the news.”
“Right. I guess everyone at the school knows by now.”
Maureen leaned over and gave her an awkward hug, then sat on the bed. “I can’t believe they’d do this to you.”
“It’s so unfair. I explained to Mrs. Tibbett that I was really trying, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m writing a letter to Mother explaining everything, saying that I’m sorry to disappoint her but that I’ll go back to Defiance and work hard, pay her back in full.” Esme came to mind, working one job during the day and another at night, all while going to school. “I know I can do it.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Maureen’s gaze drifted over to the open door, where two Ford girls trying on princess costumes for Halloween squealed over each other.
Darby shrugged. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure. I feel bad about the money, of course, but it’s probably all for the best.”
Maureen nodded, her mouth slightly open, still entranced by the creatures in the hallway.
“I’ll miss you and the twins.”
Maureen snapped back to attention. “And I’ll miss you terribly. Why don’t I go to Mrs. Tibbett and put in a good word? Do you think that’d help? I know Edna and Edith will join me. They absolutely adore you.”
“I doubt that would do any good. Maybe I’m not cut out for New York after all.”
Without excusing the interruption, one of the Ford girls turned and beckoned to Maureen from across the hall. “You. We need your fingers. Sandra’s zipper is stuck.”
Maureen scuttled over and did as they commanded, holding the material together as the other girl slowly encased Sandra in a taffy-colored satin gown. After, Maureen remained in the doorway, watching them drift off without even a thank-you. Not that she needed one. For Maureen, just getting noticed by one of the giraffes was enough reward. Thanks to Esme, they no longer had such an effect on Darby.
Once she’d broken free from the spell, Maureen insisted that she and Darby be pen pals, and after Darby promised to write, they hugged a teary good-bye. Darby finished the letter, sealed it in an envelope, and placed it on top of her desk. Part of her was relieved to no longer have to pretend that she wanted to be a secretary, but she’d never let anyone down like this before. Mother’s displeasure would be crushing.
A knock on the door broke her concentration. She recognized the sharp rap. “Come in, Esme.”
“Hey there, chica. What’s going on?”
She didn’t bother softening the news. “I’ve been expelled.”
Esme perched on the window ledge and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? I was a bad influence on you.”
The same thought had gone through Darby’s head. What if she hadn’t made friends with Esme and gotten dazzled by nights filled with bebop and Sam?
She shrugged off the thought. “I’m the one who showed up late, who failed tests. I hated secretarial school, but I liked what we did together. Anyway, I just wrote to Mother. Once she gets this and sends me train fare, I’ll be on my way.”
“How long do we have?” A note of desolation crept into Esme’s voice.
“I don’t know. A week, maybe.”
“Do you really have to go?”
“I can’t stay. I can’t make a living here.”
“Of course you can.”
Darby let out a scornful laugh. “I don’t think you understand. I’ll never be a secretary now. It’s over.”
Esme leaned forward. “So do something else. Why is it so important to go back?”
“Mother spent all her money to send me here and I have to pay her back. I owe her that much. I’ve completely disappointed her.”
“What about how she’s disappointed you?”
Darby shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She married that Mr. Saunders. It seems to me she’s the one who put you in this position to start with. What if she’d taken the money and gone to school herself? Learned to be a nurse or something? Then she could have supported herself without having to lean on a man and lightened up on you.”
Darby couldn’t imagine Mother pursuing a career; she was of a different generation. All she knew was dinner parties and tennis. “That was never going to happen.”
Esme stood up and paced the room. “You’re gonna have a career, just not the career your mother thought you would.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we work together to get a recording contract. We can call ourselves the Downtown Dollies.”
Darby squirmed. “I’m not sure that’s realistic.”
“Sure it is. Hell, we’re just getting started.”
“And how do I feed myself in the meantime?”
“We find an apartment together, something cheap. You can take up some shifts at the club as a waitress. Sam and I can put in a good word for you there. We hang on until we hit it big. Whichever comes first: me on Broadway or us together as a singing duo.”
“I don’t know.” Even as she said it, Esme’s plan was taking root in her brain. Being in New York City but not having to go to secretarial school had never figured into Darby’s thinking. The two were intertwined from the very start. Maybe Esme was right. Maybe she could stand on her own two feet. She touched the envelope sitting on her desk, imagining what Mother would think when she heard of her plans. “I’m not sure if I can do it.”
“Of course you can. Look at me and my papa. He was the center of my world in Puerto Rico; we obeyed him and did whatever he said and were terrified to cross him. But when I got to New York City, I had the power. I took control, did what I had to do. Now it’s your turn.”
“The only money I have is from our gig. And I’d have to send that to Mother, to show her that I’m planning on paying her back.” She did the calculation in her head. “I don’t see how I can swing it. Even if I found a job right away.”
“I’ll take care of that. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll take care of you.”
A terrible thought sprang into her head. “You won’t be doing that thing you talked about, when the men came after you, will you?”
Esme snickered. “No way. I have resources at my fingertips and they don’t involve turning tricks.”
Darby choked at the frank choice of words and gave Esme a weak smile. Her mind raced with a list of possibilities. She could go home, face Mother and Mr. Saunders, and lick her wounds. Or she could stay here, with Esme and Sam, and figure out another approach. One she had never imagined.
Darby picked up the letter to Mother, took a deep breath, and ripped it in half.
Esme let out a yip of delight. “That’s my girl.”
“I’ll write to Mother and explain everything. Maybe she’ll understand.”
Or maybe her news would come as a relief. The household was probably more peaceful now and would remain so if Mr. Saunders could continue to pretend she didn’t exist. Darby was a constant reminder of her father.
“What do we do first?” she asked.
“You’re paid up at the Barbizon until the end of the month, right?”
Darby nodded.
“That gives me a couple days to find us a place together. You can talk to Mr. Buckley at the club and get a job. By this time next week, we’ll be two girls out on the town.”