Chapter Eight
"We do not have to become heroes overnight. Just a step at a time, meeting each thing that comes up, seeing it is not as dreadful as it appeared, discovering we have the strength to stare it down." – Eleanor Roosevelt
"There we go, dearie. That should hold ya over till we get that dress dryin'." Peg said, her voice slathered thick with a New York accent. "Figures the chill would've come in tonight of all nights."
Lady mumbled a shaky word of thanks and risked a look across the bedroom, adjusting the pile of clothes strewn over her arms. Peg had raided the wardrobe of a half asleep woman with sunken cheekbones, and a night robe mercilessly pulled around her thin frame. Needless to say, she did not look pleased. "Thanks again, Dottie. Appreciate you lending the doll some clothes, cause she sure as hell wouldn't fit in anything of mine." She laughed loudly. Both Lady and Dottie did not join in.
Dottie scowled and turned to Lady."You can keep them, already too much ritz soaked into em'.
Lady flinched but Peg swatted at her. "I think ya forgot what it means to be understandin'. She's hada tough night."
"My whole life is one tough night." Dottie quipped. "Now out. I need to get my beauty rest, with whatever looks I got left."
Peg rolled her eyes and turned to leave, motioning for Lady to follow her. "C'mon sweet thing, you can use my room to change." On the way out Lady gave a slight bow of her head in Dottie's direction. She just huffed and slammed the door shut behind them with a snap!
"Ignore Dot, she's always a bit crabby." Peg said over her shoulder. Lady looked at her as they walked and was reminded of fluffy, warm, things like marshmallow topping. Her skin was white, she had a summery countenance and every step she took looked like a sultry waltz, due to her wide hips and thighs. Thick blonde curls shot from underneath her silk turban to her ears, making Lady wonder if she dyed it that way. An ankle length, robe lined in fur trailed behind her, and paired with her heels she looked like a movie star.
"Here we go, it's not a five star joint but for being over a shop it's aight." Peg said as she unlocked the door to her apartment.
Lady followed her inside and looked around in wonder. She looked upon a drab brown apartment; dust collected between floorboards and the light fixture was dark with burn marks. A mismatching bed, vanity and wardrobe sat in the corner, beside a small window with a chipped paint radiator beneath it. A miniature and worn kitchenette was squeezed in the opposite corner with an even smaller stove. What stood out to Lady was the newspaper and magazine clippings stuck all over the walls. Some were portraits of large cities, others of Coco Chanel fashions, of Sophie Tucker and Charles Lindbergh smiling forever in print.
"It's nice." She commented. "I like your clippings."
"Ah, thanks. Ol' Sophie's my hero, obviously." She said motioning to her hips with a wry smile. "And Lucky Lindy there is such a looker I just had to have him for myself, you know?" Lady shook her head in agreement, though she'd never been one to fawn over celebrities.
"Well anyway, I'll give ya some privacy before I get to talkin'." She said, going to her dresser and fishing around again. After a minute she came up with a man's collared shirt and pants from the bottom drawer. Lady tried not to stare with surprise.
"Men." She shrugged. "Always leavin something for me ta clean up. But lucky for Trampo this particular man I'm with is extra scatter brained and left his clothes here for the millionth time."
At the mention of Tramp, Lady was reminded again of the unease she felt being parted from him. It was Tramp who had introduced her to Peg and insisted she follow the other woman to the living quarters above the shop. She hadn't wanted to complain or show how upset being apart made her, and had uneasily complied. After one day and I feel that attached to him? What is wrong with me?
"I'll leave ya to it. You can just hang ya stuff by the heater. Come downstairs when you're ready, and I'll see about some vitals for ya, alright?" She said with a wink, and then shut the door behind her.
Lady walked to the bed and dropped the clothes against the mattress, releasing a deep, shoulder lightening sigh. She watched her hands shake with anxiety and cold. Lady felt the dull urge to cry but by now she'd shed every last one of her tears throughout the night, and couldn't bring herself to make any more. She changed out of her dress and underthings, not allowing herself time to ruminate on the last few hours. The cool metal of the necklace from her parents bounced softly against her bare skin. Lady looked at herself in the vanity mirror, catching a glimpse of her clumped hair and sunken eyes.
Once she'd changed Lady appraised her new dress; a yellow and blue plaid day dress with a ratty lace fringe at the shoulders and wrists. She raked her hair into submission and plaited it into a long braid over her shoulder. Lady's eyes fell to her necklace as it glinted in the light and she grappled onto it like a lifeline. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly and rubbing the glass drop between her fingers.
It should have helped calm her, but instead Tramp burst into her mind; him kneeling over the other man, his features knotted with desperation and his eyes filled with terrible pain. Lady felt a strange sense of intrusion about the memory, but along with it a feeling of intimacy too. They had shared a different kind of closeness tonight, which she had never experienced. Maybe that explained why she felt so uneasy being away from him.
Lady opened her eyes. One step at a time. Don't think too hard and get downstairs. She tucked her necklace into her dress and gathered up her damp belongings, hanging them to dry. Lady left the room and entered the dark hallway, an amber glow coming from the stairwell at the end of the passage. The soft sound of voices and merriment trickled out from the floorboards as Lady gingerly walked to the stairs. She placed her hand on the bannisters and slowly descended, her heart pounding.
The entirety of the shop, and the tantalizing smell of food, washed over her unlike before when she'd been too cold and scared to notice. Her heels clicked as she stepped onto the tile of the floor: a worn pattern of brown and white checkerboard. The tile ran down a slender aisle beside the large counter to the left, which was thick and dark as molasses. Stools jutted from the floor in a single row, their cushions burgundy and well worn. Multiple fans and bulbs hung from the dingy cream ceiling like heavy fruits on vines.
The walls were covered with bold flower print wallpaper, which was a shade of beige from constant cigarette smoke. The large windows at the front of the shop were pitch black except one dull beam of light from a lamp post across the street. At the foot of the stairs on the right was the record player, which twirled in inky circles about its needle. Lady didn't recognize the tune, but the calm saxophone notes made her feel at peace. To the left was a payphone, by which a man stood with his arms crossed over his chest. With every sporadic ring he would pick up the receiver, converse quietly and then end the call with an annoyed click!
Lady looked at the other men occupying the small space, who either sat on stools or in the dining area across from the counter. They looked docile and calm, to her relief. The group was intimate, about seven to eight men with Peg included. But it was enough to make her uncomfortable when, upon her arrival, all eyes turned on her as if she were under a magnifying glass. To make matters worse Tramp was nowhere to be seen. Lady fiddled with her hands and managed a meek smile.
"There ya are." Peg greeted her from behind the counter. "Look much better after a change a clothes. Come over here, dearie. Take a seat and relax." She motioned to the stool in front of her. Lady nodded and uneasily sat on the stool, which let out a little sigh from its punctured cushion. She could still feel the looks of the men around her and it forced her to stare at the woodgrain of the counter under her hands.
"Uptight little thing huh?" Peg mused. Lady flinched. "Ah, that's alright I'm sure ya ain't used to all this being an uptowner and all. So, ya hungry then?"
Lady instantly lifted her head. "Yes." She blurted out, realizing she was in fact starving. Her stomach hadn't felt this painfully hollow and empty in a long time.
Peg chuckled. "That's what I thought. Don't worry, I got some things going and you gonna be so full you'll be begging me not to give ya more." Lady nodded and couldn't help but smile.
The wall behind Peg was scaled with several panes of mirrors, all for them yellowed and cloudy. A long line of dusky bottles sat cradled underneath its belly as neat as a row of tin soldiers. At the end of the wall was a large stove hood which reigned over a wide set of burners, and where the culprit of the wonderful aroma sat; a cast iron pot with steam shooting from its lid.
Lady was no stranger to the fact that many people broke Prohibition's rules and served alcohol. Her parents even had a small supply of spirits in their home, as they both thought the law was silly. But she'd never seen an establishment be so unabashed about its secrecy.
Peg watched her and smirked. "You looked surprised to see the liquor, doll. We're all a little too broke to have 'em separate, so we gots a lunch counter and a juice joint combined." She leaned in and feigned whispering behind her hand. "Helps keep the bulls off the scent too, if you know what I mean."
Lady processed this with wide eyes and marveled again at how alien this world was, a world that had only been a few miles away her entire life. The sound of the telephone interrupted her thoughts and the man beside it yanked the phone to his ear, nodding and talking urgently. He swore and put the receiver back down with an aggravated shake of his head.
"Anything yet, Jerry?" Peg called.
"Nothing." Jerry huffed, turning around and tugging his cap tighter over his forehead. "No one seems to know, I don't get it."
"They'll find em' don't worry about it." Peg reassured him with a wink. "I ain't never heard of a scrape Buster can't get out of."
"Yeah, but that's only when I'm with him." A voice said out of the blue. A small door on the other side of the stove rattled as it swung in its hinges and there stood Tramp, fastening the rolled sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. Her relief at seeing him made her heart race, and she resisted the urge to jump to her feet.
By the phone Jerry dejectedly looked at his feet but Peg stuck out her lip, assessing him with a raised eyebrow. "Don't give ya self so much credit. I know ya may think you're the smartest cat around here but Buster's just as capable as you, when he ain't in ya shadow."
"Only from watching me, Peg." He replied with a cocky tilt of his head. He then turned and called to the other boy. "Lighten up, Jer you're looking a little green. They're fine."
Lady stared at him as he walked over. He wore the clothes she'd seen in Peg's arms before, a gray blue wool collared shirt and dark work pants. His slate hair was free of the product it'd been poorly controlled by and was a thick hurricane atop his head. If it weren't for his tired smile Lady could tell this was his normal state. She felt her cheeks warm. He somehow looked even more dashing than he had in a suit. She followed the line of his long arms, and her blush waned as she saw his knuckles. They had been properly bandaged now, but a quick flash of how they'd looked before came and went through her. Lady shivered.
Just before he could reach her, the front door opened with the jingle of a bell and the eye patch wearing man, Leon, stepped in. "Where's Luske?" He asked.
"Right here." Tramp called, his smile fading into a grim frown. "Whatcha got?"
Leon went to him and guided him back towards the corner, where they continued their conversation in grave, soft tones. Lady felt some of her anxiety come back. Could there possibly be more danger? She felt like she was going to be sick. Tramp ground his jaw in frustration and he mused his hair; a gesture Lady was starting to recognize when he was anxious or upset. What could be wrong?
They finished their discussion and Tramp patted the other man on the shoulder. Leon exited the shop once again with a tip of his hat in her direction and was gone with the tinkle of the doorbell. Tramp walked back to the group, his smile looking like it took more effort to be there.
Tramp greeted everyone and was received warmly, with jests and claps on the back from the other men in the room. Lady smiled a little, her heart warming to see him so clearly at home and not on edge. He locked eyes with her when everyone settled down and she looked away bashfully, realizing she'd been staring at him. He came over and slid onto the stool next to her, his legs so long the toes of his shoes still brushed the floor. "Hey, Pigeon." He murmured.
"Hello." She softly replied.
"This side of town looks good on you." He smiled, putting his elbows on the counter. Lady noticed how the sleeves of his shirt were pulled tightly up his athletic arms. She had felt correctly during their dance at the gala that he was lean and muscular."Feels good to be in dry clothes doesn't it?"
"I can't believe how much I took being dry for granted."
Tramp grinned, but this time it looked effortless. "I'm glad you seem more comfortable here. Did Peg treat you right? I know she can be a lot at first."
"I heard that." Peg grumbled, looking over her shoulder as she walked back to check the pot on the stove. "Keep this up and you're gonna wind up without my help the next time ya in a jam."
Tramp shrugged. "You always seem to help anyway, no matter how many times you say it."
"It's only cause I get to look at that pretty face from time to time. Remember that, I only help ya cause I'm a superficial typa girl." She said, raising a sassy eyebrow and sauntering over to pour a drink for a man down the counter.
Tramp rolled his eyes and waved her off. "So's your old man. See what I mean?"
"No, she was wonderful." Lady said.
"Ah, you say that now. See, she's a canary and they're always fitted with a bad attitude."
"She's a singer?"
"Yeah, luckily where she lacks in personality she makes up for with a golden set of pipes."
"I'd love to hear her."
"Yeah, who knows you might be able to if you ever want to come back..." Tramp trailed off.
Lady pursed her lips and they both went quiet, awkward silence seeping in between them. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye. She guiltily noticed the small cuts on his cheekbones from the exploding glass shards at the mansion. He sniffed and slid his hand under his nose, adjusting himself in the seat. "Anyways I'm sure you're wondering when you'll get to go home."
Lady's stomach did a somersault. Never before had she yearned for home with such fervor, so much so even Aunt Sarah seemed like a pleasant notion. The desire for her house, her parents and her friends made her chest ache. She bit her lip and nodded, afraid she would say something embarrassing.
Tramp sighed deeply and he looked into her eyes. "Leon just talked to me and said there's still some action going down around town. What happened at the benefit started a lot of shit with the gangs and it's crazy out there right now. So I'm sorry, but we're not gonna be able to get you home for a while yet, at least not until it gets quiet out there."
Lady swallowed as her chest ache grew a little bigger like a stain. But something else began to plague her mind too. "We're not in danger anymore are we?"
"No." Tramp said immediately, his hand jerking forward to touch hers. "You're safe now, you don't have to worry."
Lady looked at his hand, feeling the coarse texture of his bandages and inwardly cursed as her bashfulness returned. He promptly removed it under her stare and rubbed his neck, almost bashfully. "I uh, know I keep saying it but I really am sorry for everything. I wish I could take you back home, so you don't have to put up with all this...or me."
Lady stared in surprise. Did he think she didn't want to be around him? She fumbled over her tongue, trying to think of a way to deny what he'd said and Tramp seemed to take her silence as agreement. His lips tugged at the corners with a self deprecating smile and he looked away.
Man." Tramp sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose."I wish I'd met you under normal circumstances, Pidge. It would have been so different…"
"I would have liked that." She said quickly.
Tramp lowered his hand from his face and turned to her. "Really?"
"Yes, I like you."
Tramp paused and looked caught off guard, his eyebrows lifting. Lady was confused at first, but then suddenly realized what she'd said. "I-I mean, not like that! I do like you but I didn't mean in that way, we just met." She spluttered.
His eyes shone with mirth and he held in his laughter. "It's alright. I like you too."
Lady's ears went a scorching red. Tramp looked like he could hardly contain his delight and Lady felt she was going to die of embarrassment. Thankfully, just as he opened his mouth to speak, Peg interrupted in a jovial voice. "Soups on, you two."
She filled two bowls from a shelf below and slid them down the counter toward her and Tramp. Then she filled a mug from a separate pot and placed it in front of Lady. Never in her entire life had anything smelled so good as the steam curls swirled under her nose. Helpings of baked beans and frankfurters were loaded to the brim of each bowl, oozing with heavenly grease and brown sauce.
"You're my favorite person in the world right now, Peg." Tramp said, diving for his spoon. Lady peered into the mug and was greeted with the cozy smell of apples and spices. Her mouth could hardly contain the saliva that sprung up under her tongue.
Peg chuckled. "Thought you might like a spot of hot cider, poor little bunny, going through all that nastiness."
"Oh, thank you very much." Lady said gratefully.
"What none for me?" Tramp asked with a mischievous eyebrow, his mouth full of food.
"In your dreams." Peg said, placing her hand on her hip. "You ain't special and you're used to this shit show around here. You should be grateful I made you anything at all."
"Ah, c'mon old girl you know I'm teasing. But in all seriousness thanks a million, you saved our asses tonight."
Peg paused and a small, grateful smile appeared, one that reached her eyes. "That's what I was looking for. But I'll let ya eat and I'll keep an eye out for Leon."
Tramp nodded his thanks and continued to eat at an inhuman speed, clearly just as hungry as Lady was. At first she tried to be proper and eat slowly, but after her first bite of beans she didn't have the patience for delicacy and took large, messy bites without reservation. She then remembered the cider and eagerly placed both hands around the mug, relishing in its warmth with her eyes closed. When she opened her eyes she found Tramp staring at her with an amused expression. "Sorry." She said, ducking her head. "It just smelled so good."
"It's fine, that's just the first time I've seen you look genuinely happy today."
Lady blinked. He was right, her emotional range today had consisted of misery and then terror. She shook her head and let out a half sigh, half laugh. "What an awful day."
Tramp chuckled. "It's been the pits."
They both laughed together, small, weary chuckles that almost hurt to expel. They sighed simultaneously and stared into eachothers eyes, nutbrown meeting obsidian, before looking back down at their food. They didn't speak for a while, and finished off their food as they listened to the music radiating from the record player. Lady gulped down the rest of her cider, the golden liquid scorching her throat with a final burst of spicy cinnamon. She felt like a new person in her dry clothes, and her stomach full of warm food.
Tramp must have felt the same because his folksy demeanor returned. He leaned over the counter and pushed his bowl away. "Now that we're human again, I think I owe you an explanation about the mess you got dragged into."
"I'm not sure I want to know." She said quietly after a pause.
"You know, I can't say I blame you. Well, how about on a need to know basis?"
She nodded.
"Alright." He said, clearing his throat. "So my stupid friend, the dark Italian, Buster, is involved with some punk gang, has been for a few years now. Call themselves the Downtown Mutts. I won't get into what they do but you can guess it's not anything good. They ran into trouble after conducting some...business at the gala."
Tramp's expression was wary, as though he were afraid she'd get up and run away. "Okay." She said, trying to hide her dismay. Gangs? She'd read about them in the papers, but only in big cities like Chicago or New York. She had no idea their city had such organizations.
"Those boys after us are part of a rival gang, The Brass Bloods. Like I said before they wanted to know what was going on, and if they needed to shake us down for it they were gonna. And that…" He said, his hand moving closer to hers again on the counter. "Is where I'm to blame. I shouldn't have made you dance with me like that. They assumed both of us were in on Buster's business cause we happened to be there."
Lady wasn't sure what to say so she nodded wordlessly. Tramp paused and looked up as though remembering something. "While I'm at it I wanna say that I'm not in with the Mutts. I've had my share of being ordered around and it's not my style, I just owed Buster a favor so I agreed to help out."
Lady couldn't explain why but she felt relieved at his answer. She had been so unsure as to his involvement in the night's events, and the familiarity he'd shown with everyone had doubled that fear. She clasped her hands together as the relief settled into her chest.
"I did wonder. Thank you, for explaining."
Tramp laughed, his voice harsh. "You wanna thank me for all that? You're so polite, Pidge. A whole night of gang wars and you're thanking me like I did you a service. This has got to be the worst date I've ever had with a dame before."
Lady almost choked. "Date?"
"Yeah, decided that just now." He chuckled, gesturing around them. "Food, music, a guy and a girl, it's perfect." Lady laughed before she could think. Tramp looked pleased, and smirked in such a genuine way his eyes twinkled.
"I should hope not." She continued. "Or this will have been my first date and I'm not sure how I feel about that."
Tramp's eyes went wide. "You can't be serious. You've never been on a date before?"
"Well, no." Lady said, tugging at her braid.
"I'm only surprised." He said, softening his tone.
"W-Why would that surprise you?"
"You're just so pretty I don't know how those ritzy boys could help themselves."
Lady's blush burst like an inferno in ears and her face, forcing her to turn in her seat and look at anything but him. He chuckled beside her, his face nothing but a smile out of the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry, Pidge. I like how you blush and get embarrassed, it's sweet."
"You mean you're doing that on purpose?" She mumbled through her heated state.
"Guilty." He shrugged. "It's better than having you be afraid."
Lady looked up with surprise and met his gaze again. His expression and assessing eyes pierced through her like a javelin. Why did he affect her like this? Tramp's eyes held her in place for a moment, but then released her as he looked down. He allowed a soft smirk on his face and chuckled with the same self deprecating attitude she'd seen before.
What was that about? Lady thought.
The sound of the telephone ringing emanated from the phone booth, along with the sound of Jerry again picking up the receiver. This time his voice didn't stay quiet, making Tramp and the others turn in response. The man was so excited he stopped talking to the person on the other end and whipped around to face everyone. "They found Buster! The boys too! They're at Trixie's pop's place on 9th!"
Cheers and pumped fists went up throughout the room. Peg wiped her brow and Leon walked back inside, relief on both their faces. Tramp got up from the stool, walked to the booth and grabbed the receiver from Jerry. Amid the celebrating Lady could hear him demanding to know how Slim and Miles were faring from their injuries. When his shoulders relaxed at the answer, Lady also breathed a sigh of relief. He briefly argued with the person in the line but then hung up with a look of irritation, which quickly faded as he walked back and sat down.
"They're alright." He stated, his relief evident.
"You were worried after all." Lady said gently.
Tramp looked surprised again and leaned toward her with a quick glance at the other men. "Yeah, I just didn't want the others to get jittery."
Lady smiled. How sweet. "You must like your friends then."
"Depends on the day." He said, leaning back. "Been through a lot together and I'd hate to see something happen to them, no matter how frustrating they can be. Well, I take that back, I don't care what happens to Russell."
"Which one was that?"
"Ah, right you probably don't even know who's who. Russell was the ginger. Miles was the one who got hurt in the head, and the fat one was Slim."
"So you and him don't get along…?"
Tramp shook his head. "Buster's the one I've known since we were kids, the others came around when he joined the Mutts. I never cared for him, too muscle headed to my liking. But enough about him, what about your friends? You get along alright?"
"Absolutely, the three of us have always been close." Lady said, a small affectionate smile taking her mouth. The ache in her chest throbbed, but she ignored it.
"What are their names again?"
"Elias and Ida."
"Hm, what a funny mix. Cause you're shy, she's wild and he seemed solemn as hell." He said.
"We are aren't we?" She replied, her smile growing bigger.
Tramp's face grew mischievous and he placed his hand under his chin. "So I'm really curious and this might not be any of my business, but it's really not romantic at all between you and him?"
Lady scoffed bashfully. "No, it's never been that way."
"You sure?"
"Y-yes. Why do you ask?"
"You're pretty remember? He laughed. "He is a man after all, I just don't know if I buy it."
Lady ignored her blush yet again and pondered for a moment. She couldn't think of a single time they'd ever been anything other than friends. Except, without explanation, Elias' lingering stares and awkward behavior came back to her, giving her pause.
"Aha, I saw that." Tramp said with a raised eyebrow. "You can't be sure now, huh?"
"Well, I've never felt that way but maybe..."
"Then that answers my question. Wowza, that poor mug." He leaned his elbows on the counter with an empathetic expression.
"What do you mean by that?" She asked.
"You might have to let him down slow, Pigeon. I don't think anyone would wanna be rejected by you."
Lady cocked her head to the side and blinked. "You seem to think I'm popular or that boys are interested in me. But I'm not at all, really. I wasn't born into wealth like they were, and that's set me apart for a long time."
Several emotions flashed on Tramp's face at her reply. He looked confused, astonished and then almost affectionate. "Full of surprises aren't you? I never would have guessed that. You were adopted or something then?"
"I was adopted when I was young. My parents couldn't have children so they came to the orphanage, and we ended up together."
"Fascinating." He murmured. "That's what you must have meant when you said you've had a worse birthday. Life in an orphanage is no cake walk."
Lady nodded. "Did you have experience with them too?"
"No. I just had my—" He paused, his hands clasping together on the counter until his knuckles went white. "—no, I just heard they can be pretty bad."
Lady went quiet, unsure why it felt like she'd intruded. Tramp stayed quiet too and looked down the counter, where Leon had sat down at the far end of the bar. Peg poured him a drink, the amber liquid greedily splashing against the glass. He must have been popular because several other men came to join him.
When Tramp spoke next the blood had returned to his knuckles. "Speaking of other surprises, I still can't believe it's your birthday today."
"Oh." Lady sighed. "I keep forgetting."
"I haven't. I feel like I won a whole streak of bad luck helping ruin a girl's birthday."
"It's really alright, I just thought of it at the time. I'm not all that upset about it."
"That's fine and all but now I'm upset. It's some crazy kinda injustice this is how you're gonna start off being eighteen."
"But I still feel the same as when I was seventeen, so why does eighteen seem like such a huge milestone?"
"What I've learned, Pidge, is that every year you get is another opportunity. Learned that real quick after…"
"After?" Lady finished when he went silent.
His eyes flashed with the hardness she'd witnessed before and ground his jaw. "After coming home. From the war."
Lady went solemn as her heart rate increased by a hair. She hadn't expected him to talk about this so suddenly. Many boys had gone overseas, some from her community even, but she knew the lower classes had had a much larger portion of their men drafted. It wasn't some secret to her, even if she hadn't seen him lose his composure on the street.
"I'm sorry." She said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "I must sound so ungrateful to you, after all the things you must have seen."
Tramp looked morose and shook his head. "You don't sound ungrateful. Just blessed to have no experience of the kind."
Lady felt the urge to ask about his experiences but held back. It felt very intimate a thing to ask and she didn't feel they were close enough to elicit such a conversation. So instead she reached over and placed her hand over his, being careful of his knuckles. He stared at her without smiling and she had to look through her pink cheeks into his eyes. The smell of lingering cologne and Brilliantine tickled her nose as she leaned in closer to him. "It's awful that you, and the soldiers like you had to go through something so terrible."
A terribly sad smile grew on his lips, and his voice grew soft. "You know…up until now I didn't realize, but no one's said that before. Crazy."
Lady pursed her lips and went quiet. What could she say to something so heartbreaking? Her empathy went out to him in waves. She softly tightened her hold on his hand. "I'm truly sorry."
Tramp didn't react and continued to stare at her hand. They both said nothing and Lady felt the strangest desire rise up in her fingers as she watched him. She wished to caress his brow which was tight with tension, to smooth out each crease until they were gone. Lady had never felt something of its kind before, and it unsettled her a bit.
Tramp cleared his throat abruptly and came back alive, his smile and loose shoulders returning. "Anyways, how the hell did we get talking about this? We were talking about your birthday, remember?"
He clearly didn't want to discuss it further, but it didn't go unnoticed by Lady how he kept his hand underneath hers. It took her a brief moment to switch back to a lighter mood, even though she saw in his eyes he wasn't fully happy again. She didn't want to press him if he wasn't willing to speak about it. Lady sighed a small, tight sigh and tried to act natural with their hands still touching.
"I'm being honest, you really don't need to trouble yourself over my birthday."
"Oh, it's too late for that, kid." Tramp said. Lady gave him a questioning look and he winked in return, a charming gesture she was certain most women would swoon over.
"What—"
The small door swung open again and Peg returned to the counter, with a plate in her hand and a brilliant grin on her face. She placed it down in front of Lady and placed her hand on her hip. "I heard it was someone's birthday today. Ain't no way I'm letting you go without something. Hope you like icebox cake, doll."
Lady stared in disbelief at the plate before her. It was a sloppy stacking of dark chocolate wafers in rows like zebra stripes, lathered in thick layers of milky white whipped topping. Shredded chocolate peppered the top like confetti, and a single candle was stuck in it's center. Tramp was beaming now too, and drew his hand away from hers to pull out a lighter from his pocket with which he lit the candle.
"I told Peg about your birthday, and asked for her help. You just looked so sad when you told me, Pidge I couldn't help myself." He said. Lady looked from him to Peg with her mouth open, so touched she was speechless. It was the last thing she had expected, especially from two people who had only just met her. As she looked at the cake Lady thought it was the prettiest thing she'd seen all night.
"I- I don't know what to say." She murmured.
"You like it then?" Tramp asked, pulling out a cigarette pack from his pocket.
"I love it." She said touching the plate like it was made of gold.
"That's a relief, I wasn't sure it was nice enough." Peg said, motioning for a cigarette from Tramp.
"No, it's perfect. Thank you so much, Peg."
She nodded, and leaned over for Tramp to light her smoke which he did with a smile. The plume went up around her like a ghost corpse as she brought it to her lips and exhaled. Lady was struck with a lightning bolt of emotion, a mix of being deeply moved and grateful. It was funny to her how relaxed the two of them were, as though they'd done nothing special.
Tramp proceeded to light his smoke too but he stopped short when he looked over at her, his lighter raised and the cigarette hanging limp from his lips. "Hey, you alright? Are you crying?"
"I'm just happy is all." She said through a breathless smile, wiping the moisture from her eyes.
Tramp finished with his lighter and blew smoke into the air to join Peg's. "I knew you cared after all. Really, all you had to do was be honest, it's your birthday for crying out loud."
A sniffle and a laugh left her lips and she nodded. "I guess I did."
"Now how about you blow out that candle and wish for a better birthday next time around." Peg said.
Lady looked at Tramp, and he nodded. "Go ahead, Pigeon."
Lady patted her eyes one more time and pushed her braid over her shoulder. The orange flame of the candle danced in step to the music playing behind them. Lady shut her eyes and smiled. Then she blew it out and watched the smoke spiral up into the air. Happy birthday, Lady Jackson.
Hello Babes and Birds! This has been the most maddeningly long amount of time I've had in between chapters. Being a full time mom doesn't always give me a lot of time to write! But I'm so happy to post this one, cause it was a labor of love let me tell you.
In other news: It's Of Falling Stars and Distant Hills 1st birthday today!
Yup. On April 27 last year I posted this with shaking hands. Even though it's not much, eight (and a half) chapters in a year is something I'm really proud of and is a feat I'd never thought I'd tackle. I'm kinda sorta chipping away my life long dream of being a writer. Thank you as always for the reads and reviews, I know everyone says it, but feedback is a precious thing. If I'm feeling unmotivated or insecure about my writing, someone comes along and changes all that with just a few words. Seriously, thank you. So here's a toast to eight and a half!
Fun Fact: So who in the world were Sophie Tucker and Charles Lindbergh? Well, Tucker was Russian/American entertainer who was nicknamed, "The Last of the Red Hot Mamas" she was a singer, comedian and actress with a sassy, risqué persona. (and was beautifully plus sized!) With songs like "I Ain't Taking Orders from No One" and "A Good Man is Hard to Find" she perfectly epitomized my ideas of what Peg's personality and likes would have been.
Then, Charles Lindbergh (if you didn't know) was the first aviator to fly non stop from New York to Paris solo. He was all the rage in the twenties, and America's sweetheart at the time too. He was thought to be handsome and a true hero. And like Peg says she appreciates the male form! lol
And that's all she wrote, so I'll see you soon for chapter 9. (or whenever the hell I get around to it, ya know) Ciao!
— Curly