on the street. I didn’t even try to get it back, such was my surprise at its intimacy, and my reaction to it. Like a hot poker in my abdomen. Who was this Santino fellow, thinking he could write such things to me? And what was the longing inside of me that the words evoked?
“Rose! It’s lovely. When did you meet him? Is this a real story? Was he on the stairs?”
“Be quiet,” I said. “It’s not your business, really. And he’s a brute to have written such things.”
“I’d die happy to have words like this written to me. He’s handsome, you know. Might not be so bad, having an Italian Lover.”
I grabbed the note from her and walked briskly past. “That’s a horrendous thing to say,” I said, but folded the paper up and put it in my purse, as well.
“And where do you think you’re going, sister? I’m the one who knows the way....”
She walked ahead of me again and continued to tease me.
He could corrupt you!
You could have an illicit affair!
Maybe you’ll go back to Italy and have a boatload of dark-haired babies.
I was relieved when she started to take a sharp left down a dark alleyway. But then paused before turning, like it was a gaping mouth ready to eat us. There were broken bricks at my feet that almost looked like teeth.
As if she read my mind, she said, “Come on, nothing is going to eat you.”
“I’m fine!” I yelled after her. “Just adjusting this hateful dress.”
I wouldn’t let her know I was afraid. I was the caretaker not the coward.
I made sure I had my straightest back and walked into the mouth of Manhattan.
The shop was in the alley itself. Almost like a magical door to another world.
A beautiful ornate sign that read Cat’s Dress Emporium with gold letters on a deep green background hung next to the large windows filled with the most colorful dresses I’d ever seen. And they looked expensive. Too fine for our budget.
“It’s closed,” I said, pointing at the sign on one of the double glass doors of the entrance.
“Closed for another half hour, but open for us,” Ivy said as she opened the doors. The smell that wafted out was spicy, orange, rose. Heady and confusing.
A bell sounded as we entered.
It was cool inside the shop.
“Do you think Papa would be proud? Look at us, not a full day in the city, and we have work and a place to live....” I said.
I could tell by the way Ivy was fiddling with the hem of her sleeve that she didn’t want to entertain thoughts of our father at that very moment. Besides, a stunningly beautiful woman had walked out from behind a set of garnet curtains. I’d seen her the night before in the garden. It was as if she’d been holding court. Up close, though, she was even more beautiful. Not an ordinary beauty, either. It was the kind that startled you and brought you to another place in time. She was layered with mystery.
“Ivy, so glad you could come,” she said, walking toward us. As she walked, her tall graceful body leaned backward, not straight up. It looked as if part of her was lunging at us. She held a cigarette in a long holder in one hand that swayed back and forth as she walked.
I’d never seen anything like her. And I couldn’t decide if I was intimidated or interested.
Ivy met her, and they kissed each other on the cheeks.
“Rose,” she said, “this is Madame Cat. Cat, this is my sister, Rose. She’s the seamstress. She sewed the dress she has on while she was cooped up in our room last night.”
“Wonderful,” said Cat, spreading the word out for many more syllables than was necessary, as she looked me up and down.
“You look like someone I knew a long time ago,” she said. “Do people often say that to you? Have you grown bored with it?”
“No. Not at all. It’s helpful, really. You see, we are looking for our brother, Asher Adams. Could that be the person you think I resemble?”
“I don’t think so. I’d remember a name like Asher.”
“Our father was Everett Adams. Do you
“Rose! It’s lovely. When did you meet him? Is this a real story? Was he on the stairs?”
“Be quiet,” I said. “It’s not your business, really. And he’s a brute to have written such things.”
“I’d die happy to have words like this written to me. He’s handsome, you know. Might not be so bad, having an Italian Lover.”
I grabbed the note from her and walked briskly past. “That’s a horrendous thing to say,” I said, but folded the paper up and put it in my purse, as well.
“And where do you think you’re going, sister? I’m the one who knows the way....”
She walked ahead of me again and continued to tease me.
He could corrupt you!
You could have an illicit affair!
Maybe you’ll go back to Italy and have a boatload of dark-haired babies.
I was relieved when she started to take a sharp left down a dark alleyway. But then paused before turning, like it was a gaping mouth ready to eat us. There were broken bricks at my feet that almost looked like teeth.
As if she read my mind, she said, “Come on, nothing is going to eat you.”
“I’m fine!” I yelled after her. “Just adjusting this hateful dress.”
I wouldn’t let her know I was afraid. I was the caretaker not the coward.
I made sure I had my straightest back and walked into the mouth of Manhattan.
The shop was in the alley itself. Almost like a magical door to another world.
A beautiful ornate sign that read Cat’s Dress Emporium with gold letters on a deep green background hung next to the large windows filled with the most colorful dresses I’d ever seen. And they looked expensive. Too fine for our budget.
“It’s closed,” I said, pointing at the sign on one of the double glass doors of the entrance.
“Closed for another half hour, but open for us,” Ivy said as she opened the doors. The smell that wafted out was spicy, orange, rose. Heady and confusing.
A bell sounded as we entered.
It was cool inside the shop.
“Do you think Papa would be proud? Look at us, not a full day in the city, and we have work and a place to live....” I said.
I could tell by the way Ivy was fiddling with the hem of her sleeve that she didn’t want to entertain thoughts of our father at that very moment. Besides, a stunningly beautiful woman had walked out from behind a set of garnet curtains. I’d seen her the night before in the garden. It was as if she’d been holding court. Up close, though, she was even more beautiful. Not an ordinary beauty, either. It was the kind that startled you and brought you to another place in time. She was layered with mystery.
“Ivy, so glad you could come,” she said, walking toward us. As she walked, her tall graceful body leaned backward, not straight up. It looked as if part of her was lunging at us. She held a cigarette in a long holder in one hand that swayed back and forth as she walked.
I’d never seen anything like her. And I couldn’t decide if I was intimidated or interested.
Ivy met her, and they kissed each other on the cheeks.
“Rose,” she said, “this is Madame Cat. Cat, this is my sister, Rose. She’s the seamstress. She sewed the dress she has on while she was cooped up in our room last night.”
“Wonderful,” said Cat, spreading the word out for many more syllables than was necessary, as she looked me up and down.
“You look like someone I knew a long time ago,” she said. “Do people often say that to you? Have you grown bored with it?”
“No. Not at all. It’s helpful, really. You see, we are looking for our brother, Asher Adams. Could that be the person you think I resemble?”
“I don’t think so. I’d remember a name like Asher.”
“Our father was Everett Adams. Do you
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