The lovely sea air Brett was so fond of got sickening after a couple days, and you could only promenade around the deck in a straw hat so many times. I took refuge in the ship's bar, ignoring people, and Brett kept to her cabin, doing the same. She was quieter than usual. At the dock in Paris she'd posted a letter to Mike explaining very kindly she didn't expect to see him ever again, and she wished him luck in all future endeavors, romantic or otherwise. We hadn't mentioned him since.
New York didn't arrive soon enough. It smelled homey, the scent of five million people crushed into one little concrete gridiron. Brett lost her hat in the pushing of the crowds as we walked down the gangplank. I promised her a new one as soon as we got settled. Until then, we found a bar. It wasn't easy; this damn Prohibition fad was the worst thing to happen to the States since the Civil War. Still, liberal tipping and some suspicious characters led us to our destination, and before we'd unpacked our toothbrushes, we were sitting on round stools in a smoky barroom, sharing a bottle of whiskey and poring over Brett's list.
"The opera is an absolute must," she said, smiling over my shoulder at a starstruck bar patron.
"You hate opera."
"It'll be thrilling to be seen there. I wonder if they'll announce us."
"Statue of Liberty."
"The Met."
"The Museum of Natural History. Really?"
"I want to see dinosaurs before I die, Jake." She leaned back and smoothed out her linen skirt. The door swung open several times in a row, the bell over the door clanging insistently.
"As you wish. Museums tomorrow, then, and statue and opera day after that."
"And today?"
"Today we relax, eat pizza, get our land legs back, then drink and lose them again."
"Cheers," she said, and took another shot.
The bell rang and seven or eight girls in matching dresses burst in, giggling fit to give me a headache. Actresses, maybe, or showgirls, more like. Before they even ordered drinks, they said a long hello to everyone in the bar. The tallest one said hello to me. She was a tanned, pretty girl with bright eyes and impressive hips.
"Hello yourself," I said.
"Have we met?" She pulled up a chair, ignoring Brett completely.
"You never know. I meet a lot of people."
"Clever. Buy me a drink?"
"Honesty!" Her friend had a lower voice and a crooked hat. "Save some for the rest of us! We've got to go!"
"Coming, Chaz." She stood. "We're entertaining at a Gatsby party tonight. See you there?" I laughed and took a drink, and she blew me a kiss and disappeared with her little friend.
"Charming," said Brett. The corners of her eyes wrinkled as she laughed.
I didn't reply. Gatsby wasn't a name you heard every day. New York sounded like his kind of hideout, though. As the showgirls left, I caught the redheaded one by the arm.
"Who's this Gatsby?" I asked.
"No one knows," she whispered, as if she was sharing some juicy secret, "only he's only the richest, most eligible bachelor in the state of New York, don't you know, and he throws the most delicious parties!" Her style of talk was grating. "You're not from around here, are you? Everyone who's anyone goes to a Gatsby party!"
"Jay Gatsby?"
"Sure!" She giggled and followed her cohorts out the door.
"What was that about?" asked Brett.
"I know this Gatsby fellow from the war days. What do you say we investigate this famous party of his? He's always been the generous type. He wouldn't mind a couple extra guests."
"Sounds smashing, darling." I paid our tab, but as I moved to leave, Brett fell against the table with a cry.
"Hey! What's this?" I helped her to her feet, and she clung to my arm.
"I'm alright," she kept repeating. Her face was dead white. "My legs went numb." I held her where we stood until she shifted her legs one at a time and let her weight back onto them. "I haven't got anything to wear to a party." Her laughter was breathy.
"You want to go to the opera and you didn't bring a cocktail dress?"
"I added the opera to the list on the ship."
"We'll go shopping, then."
"Oh, darling, don't be cross with me."
"I'm not cross. It's your holiday."
She kissed my cheek, then something flickered over her face. It was the first time she'd kissed me since I picked her up from Madrid. It was gone before I could tell if it was regret or something else. "I had the shops on Fifth Avenue on the list, too. Right after the dinosaurs."
