air. “I mean, old Teddy went and disappeared, didn’t he? Kings die and become dead heroes. End of story.” Chester leaned over, punctuating his next words with his fork. “He should’ve thought that one through.” He turned his attention to his plate, sawing away at his filet.
I let the air out of my lungs. Bluffing. Chester was bluffing, which I should have expected. But for a moment, I’d thought Chester knew about Teddy, knew our secret, what I had done for—how I had lied for—Teddy. But no. I kept Teddy’s secret. I held on to the belief he’d be back. I’d promised Teddy.
After dinner Chester and I retreated to our separate rooms. I had my own private suite here—with a door I could lock. Melody had tossed a pair of pajamas on my bed, a thoughtful gesture. They were navy-blue silk with white pin dots, and came with a matching robe.
And the closet was packed with clothes, as promised. Pretty things, classy and smart, if more than a little revealing. Short dresses, slim and silky, in pale colors and trimmed in handmade lace or long beading or wispy frills. If they weren’t the very latest fashion, I wouldn’t have been able to tell. I looked at those dresses for a long time, rubbing the silk between my fingers, admiring the details,but also feeling the blush creep across my cheeks as I imagined my near-nakedness when wearing them. They were nothing like the full-sleeved middy blouse and midcalf skirt I was wearing, and I looked down at myself with a rueful twist of my lips.
I actually couldn’t wait to try some of them on though I’d have to pick the ones that didn’t reveal too much, or expose that ten-inch scar.
My bedroom here was twice as big as my room at home. High ceilings, carved moldings, tall satin-draped windows that opened high above the noisy city so that the air they admitted was cooler and sweeter than the air down on the street. I had a private bath done all in black-and-white tile, and a medicine cabinet stocked with all the latest in personal items: deodorant, mouthwash, their smells spicy and antiseptic.
And Melody had left me a small bottle of perfume—CHANEL NO. 5, read the label—that smelled divine, along with a note: “Enjoy!”
I’d landed in a grand luxury. It was enough to turn my head. So why did I feel like I’d stepped behind bars?
An empty bookcase waited, and I unloaded my suitcase, setting the books in place by author. I took the silk scarf with its sacred contents out of my suitcase and sat for a long time with it cradled in my lap. I had to keep faith with Teddy; he’d return. I tucked the scarf and its contents away deep inside my bottom dresser drawer.
I pulled one of my books off my shelf as I tucked into bed, and smiled. A perfect choice, under the circumstances.
“About thirty years ago, Miss Maria Ward of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate…”
I woke in a cold sweat to the sound of a fire engine. The high-pitched wail echoed through the concrete canyons, tearing down the avenue and disappearing into the nighttime.
I lay in the bedroom and watched the play of lights from the street below as they moved across the ceiling. Flash and fade. Red, then white. My back itched with the memory of pain, and I rubbed the rough skin, an old habit. The fire engine was gone, into the night, into another fire, not my fire, but it was a long time before sleep crept over me again.
CHAPTER 7
Lou
One of the first things Danny took me to see after we’d become an item was Miss Liberty out on her little island. I’d seen the lights since I was small, that torch lit up at night like it was truly on fire, and how the Lady with the Lamp glowed across the water after Mr. Woodrow Wilson turned on the new lights in ’16, and how we four—Ma and Da and my brother and me—had watched it from the Battery when we were still one big happy family.
But I’d never been there, right up close, unless you count me riding in Ma’s