Shadows of St. Louis by Leslie Dubois

he watched his sister whisper into Clarence's ear. And when he started playing his signature style of music, Charles grabbed a bottle of scotch off of a waiter walking by.
     
    "This one is for you, Mother," Rebecca Jane said to the audience.
     
    "What is she doing? What kind of music is that?" Frank asked, standing.
     
    Charles took a swig straight from the bottle. "I believe it's called Jazz music."
     
    And then Becky started belting out what sounded like an old Negro spiritual. If Charles closed his eyes, it wouldn't take much to convince him that it was a large black woman on the stage. But it wasn't. It was his dainty, beautiful little sister that the entire hall was staring at in astonishment. Including her intended fiancé, Frank.
     
    "She sounds like a nigger. A goddamn nigger. Charles, stop her. Stop her this instant. This is beyond embarrassing."
     
    "Just sit back and enjoy the music," Charles said, taking another swig. He knew things he couldn't control had already been set in motion. There was no stopping his sister. There was no stopping any of it.
     
    "I need a smoke," Frank pulled out his cigar again.
     
    "I already told you, no smoking at the table. It's rude," Charles said with a belch.
     
    "You can't be serious."
     
    Frank's anger was rising quickly, but Charles didn’t care. In fact, he kind of wished Frank would take a swing at him so he would be justified in bashing his face in. Charles still owed Frank a good beating for what he did to Emma Lynn. That was something Charles was not going to forget for a long time to come.
     
    "I am serious. If you want your cigar, go outside. I have a feeling you don't want to see what's about to happen."
     
     
     
    ***
     
    Henry stood alone in the alley listening to the faint sound of music drifting toward him. It was just loud enough for him and Emma to be able to dance too, but not loud enough to drown out their conversation. It was perfect. Just like he'd hoped. If she would ever come out. What on Earth was taking her so long? Henry whipped his hat off of his head. Twisting it in his hands brought him comfort. Why was he so nervous? He already knew she loved him. So he wasn't worried about that. Deep down he knew what the problem was. Deep down, he was afraid of getting caught.
     
    "Hello," her sweet voice said from behind.
     
    "Oh," he said, swinging around. "I thought you would be coming out of that door over there." He pointed behind himself clumsily.
     
    "There's another exit from the kitchen."
     
    "Oh. All right." He placed his hat on his head and then whipped it off again quickly remembering he hadn’t given a proper salutation. "Hello."
     
    "Hello," she said again. At least he knew she was as nervous as he was. "The party turned out lovely, didn't it?"
     
    "Oh, yes, yes, lovely. You did an excellent job with the planning."
     
    "It wasn't all me. Mrs. Goodwin is quite sophisticated. She has an excellent eye for detail when it comes to these sorts of things."
     
    Henry thought about the Goodwin family secret that Charles had shared with him. He so badly wanted to tell Emma Lynn the truth but knew it wasn't his place.
     
    "Do you like Mrs. Goodwin? Is she good to you?" he asked.
     
    "As good as can be expected for an employer. In fact, she does a little more than expected. She took me in and gave me a place to live. The Goodwins are the only family I have."
     
    "Well, that is certainly truer than you know," Henry blurted without thinking.
     
    "What do you mean?"
     
    "Nothing." Henry placed his hat back on his head. "I would very much like to kiss you again, Emma."
     
    Emma Lynn smiled. "I would like that as well."
     
    Henry put his hands on her waist and pulled her toward him gently, remembering her injury. But just as he was about to lean in, he heard a door swing open.
     
    "Well, well. What do we have here?" Frank Gibson said, approaching them. "It's a good thing Charles made me come out here to smoke my cigar. I wouldn't want to