The Drazen World: The California Limited (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Catherine C. Heywood Page B
Authors: Catherine C. Heywood
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girl.”
Jack looked at the stage, the orchestra setting up for the evening.
“A lunch girl,” Jack parroted, a smile threatening. “So married life is not all honey and roses.”
Frank looked abashed. “I don’t know what Connie expects, but it’s not fidelity. No. She seems familiar to me, your girl.”
Jack furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Don’t know her. I lunch across the street at the Derby. But if you have a few more minutes we can find Declan and see about her.”
They stood.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” said Frank, checking his watch. “I’m late already. This is my last stop in town. And I promised my girl, excuse me, my wife ,” he smiled, “that I’d be home tonight. Next time.” They shook hands and Jack walked him through the crowd to the stairs.
“Oh, balls! Would you look at this? As if it weren’t bad enough I have the tuner in here once a week to fix the midrange.”
Backstage Jack found Declan peering into the main stage grand piano that was currently being tuned.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“Well if that isn’t a sign from God, I don’t know what is.”
“What?” Jack looked into the piano.
Fine but apparent, he saw an M and a W , beside it, OLeander 4549 . His breath left him as he blinked rapidly. What was happening, exactly? First Frank and Milwaukee, then this. It had been years since he contemplated those initials, the woman they belonged to. After her suitcase had been found, he’d gone to the police once a month that first year, a couple times the next. After awhile it had been easier to let go than hold on. He had succumbed to fatalism and his father’s strong-armed caring.
When he got out of Las Encinas, Seamus had offered to buy the Ambassador for him with its shabby ballroom. A loan, he had stressed. You’ll pay me back some day . And he had, driving himself tirelessly to do it in less than three years, then buying five more in the following three.
He wanted the ballroom to be exactly as it became, a place where his lessons in hospitality and love of story making could meet. But Minnie had been in the design of it, on the stage as it was rebuilt, in the cages as they had been imagined. It was all her, because he hadn’t forgotten.
In his stunned contemplation, Declan had been going on.
That’s it.
I’m getting rid of this hunk of chunk.
Do you want it?
“When was this written?” Jack asked when he caught his breath. “Do you know who did it?”
“Didn’t notice it until just now. The strings there are off. Within the last couple hours? Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”
“Who?”
“ MW. I’d say the lunch girl, Mae Wilson. She was just finishing up her shift when the tuner came.”
Jack collapsed into a chair. “Mae Wilson.”
“Yeah. She sings on the main stage over the lunch hour.”
“Frank. He was just asking about her.” It couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it? “What does she look like?” He shut his eyes against his fear and his hope.
“Dark brown hair, blue eyes. Curves that go round and round. A beautiful dame. But she had that extra something, ya know?” Jack opened his eyes, fingers grasping his mouth as he nodded. “And pipes, too. She always closed her set with the same song. Sang Someone To W— ”
“ Someone To Watch Over Me .”
“Right. Like she owned it. A real hot ticket. After a couple of weeks she was even starting to bring people in.”
“A couple weeks.” Jack looked at Declan. “How long has she been here?”
“A month. Maybe six weeks. Why?”
“She’s been here for almost two months and I never saw her?”
“You always lunch at the Derby.”
“Fuck!” He stood, trembling hands buttoning his coat and smoothing his hair.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Where is she? Right now. Where is she?”
“Gone home, I guess. I don’t know
Jack looked at the stage, the orchestra setting up for the evening.
“A lunch girl,” Jack parroted, a smile threatening. “So married life is not all honey and roses.”
Frank looked abashed. “I don’t know what Connie expects, but it’s not fidelity. No. She seems familiar to me, your girl.”
Jack furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Don’t know her. I lunch across the street at the Derby. But if you have a few more minutes we can find Declan and see about her.”
They stood.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” said Frank, checking his watch. “I’m late already. This is my last stop in town. And I promised my girl, excuse me, my wife ,” he smiled, “that I’d be home tonight. Next time.” They shook hands and Jack walked him through the crowd to the stairs.
“Oh, balls! Would you look at this? As if it weren’t bad enough I have the tuner in here once a week to fix the midrange.”
Backstage Jack found Declan peering into the main stage grand piano that was currently being tuned.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“Well if that isn’t a sign from God, I don’t know what is.”
“What?” Jack looked into the piano.
Fine but apparent, he saw an M and a W , beside it, OLeander 4549 . His breath left him as he blinked rapidly. What was happening, exactly? First Frank and Milwaukee, then this. It had been years since he contemplated those initials, the woman they belonged to. After her suitcase had been found, he’d gone to the police once a month that first year, a couple times the next. After awhile it had been easier to let go than hold on. He had succumbed to fatalism and his father’s strong-armed caring.
When he got out of Las Encinas, Seamus had offered to buy the Ambassador for him with its shabby ballroom. A loan, he had stressed. You’ll pay me back some day . And he had, driving himself tirelessly to do it in less than three years, then buying five more in the following three.
He wanted the ballroom to be exactly as it became, a place where his lessons in hospitality and love of story making could meet. But Minnie had been in the design of it, on the stage as it was rebuilt, in the cages as they had been imagined. It was all her, because he hadn’t forgotten.
In his stunned contemplation, Declan had been going on.
That’s it.
I’m getting rid of this hunk of chunk.
Do you want it?
“When was this written?” Jack asked when he caught his breath. “Do you know who did it?”
“Didn’t notice it until just now. The strings there are off. Within the last couple hours? Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”
“Who?”
“ MW. I’d say the lunch girl, Mae Wilson. She was just finishing up her shift when the tuner came.”
Jack collapsed into a chair. “Mae Wilson.”
“Yeah. She sings on the main stage over the lunch hour.”
“Frank. He was just asking about her.” It couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it? “What does she look like?” He shut his eyes against his fear and his hope.
“Dark brown hair, blue eyes. Curves that go round and round. A beautiful dame. But she had that extra something, ya know?” Jack opened his eyes, fingers grasping his mouth as he nodded. “And pipes, too. She always closed her set with the same song. Sang Someone To W— ”
“ Someone To Watch Over Me .”
“Right. Like she owned it. A real hot ticket. After a couple of weeks she was even starting to bring people in.”
“A couple weeks.” Jack looked at Declan. “How long has she been here?”
“A month. Maybe six weeks. Why?”
“She’s been here for almost two months and I never saw her?”
“You always lunch at the Derby.”
“Fuck!” He stood, trembling hands buttoning his coat and smoothing his hair.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Where is she? Right now. Where is she?”
“Gone home, I guess. I don’t know
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