Tuesday, June 2nd 1964

New York City

35th Floor, Time-Life Building

"Frank, Clem. Glad you could make it." Roger shook the Muriel team's hands. It was just before 11:00 when they had come through reception; Joan led them to the conference room. She was wearing a blue sailor's pencil dress with a swooping neckline. Clem walked much slower, behind Joan, analysing her.

"We're excited to see what you've come up with." Frank said, looking at Roger as they entered into the room. Don was standing near the storyboard easel; Kaye, Pete and Joey were seated at the table. Joan circled around and sat beside Kaye.

"Gentlemen." Don said, reaching out his hand and shaking theirs.

"Welcome to Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce." Pete said, shaking theirs hands, followed by Kaye and Joey.

"Nice offices." Clem said, sitting down and adjusting his shirt. His gut had begun pulling it out of his pants.

"Where's Kirk?" Pete said.

"He'll be just a minute, got held up downstairs." Frank said.

Moments later, Kirk Lorrie walked around the corner of the conference room. He was in a new suit. His hair was oiled, combed over, and he was clean shaven. His eyes were bright and there was a wide smile across his face. He pushed the doors open.

"Morning ladies and gentlemen." He said, taking a seat between Matthews and Mercer. "I am ready to be wooed."

"And wooed, you shall be." Roger said.

Kaye's hands clammed up and a headache came over her. Her legs were crossed, and her left foot began tapping. Joan reached under the table and held her hand. She interlaced her fingers with Kaye's, and squeezed. Kaye looked over to Joan; she smiled weakly without looking back.

"What you witnessed on Friday night was a stroke of genius." Don opened. He leaned and gestured towards Kaye. "We worked to transform that idea into something the public would love, and there's a difficulty about that, especially branching into uncharted territory."

Don pulled the black frontage from the storyboard. He continued.

"Muriel Cigars has been known around the world for over 50 years. My father smoked them during the Great War. They gave him peace when he was out on the battlefield, holding down the shell hole in the pouring rain. One of my last memories of him was sitting on our front porch in rural Illinois, smoking a Senators cigar, telling me the facts of life."

The storyboard showed a man looking somewhat like Don, kneeling down in a trench with a Senator in his mouth. He was smiling.

"This is what people imagine when they think of Muriel Cigars. They think of 'tried and true' 'trusted', 'old and gold'. This works. People bought Muriel Senators because their fathers did. Because they're close to home and trusted."

Don flipped the board again to a family sitting down in their living room; around the coffee table playing a board game. The father had a Muriel Coronella between his lips, and a box of them on the side table. Kaye looked over to Stan.

"Not bad." She whispered. Stan smiled.

"When Pete heard that you were trying something new, something different with your line of cigarillos, we were surprised. The Coronella and Air Tipped ads have gone over well. The beautiful Edie Adams singing Broadway songs is catchy. You need something more this time around."

Don took a step away from the storyboard, and moved to stand at the head of the table. Joan reached into her clutch and grabbed a Burgundy Tipalet. Joey leaned over with his lighter and lit the end for Joan.

"Our father's never smoked flavoured cigarillos. They stayed with the tried and true. They might reach out for a Coronella; maybe. The sons of the Senators will reach for an Air Tipped. But, young people are the ones who are going to smoke Tipalets. These cigarillos aren't meant for us, they're meant for your progressive young men and women. They don't want to sit around and listen to the radio for twenty minutes while smoking down a Senator. What they want is the speed of a cigarette with the flavouring of a cigar. They want the convenience mixed with the memories of their fathers. You've married the two perfectly here."

Joan stood up and walked over to stand beside the storyboard. Don moved back, spinning the last board off the easel to reveal a handsome man blowing a breeze of smoke into a voluptuous woman's face.

"Young women want a strong leading presence in their lives; a strong presence like their father. They don't want their father's old world ideals. Men want to command their families, to take hold of what's theirs. Muriel Tipalets-"

Joan blew out a plume of smoke.

"Blow in her face," She paused. "And she'll follow you anywhere."

"Nothing more needs to be said." Don finished.

"Wow." Frank grinned. "This is much better than I thought. You sure know how to spin a yarn."

"Well, you wanted the best." Roger said.

"Makes me wonder what could be done with a little more time." Kirk spoke up. Pete looked over.

"Is something not to your liking?" He asked.

"Well it's good. I just liked it a lot more when Missy said it." He glared across the table at Kaye.

"This ad is for print. If you wanted something for television or radio, we can put our departments on that as well." Pete said.

"I don't know. Maybe I just don't find the ad as attractive as I did on Friday. Luster's worn off." Kirk said.

Kaye ran her hands over her nylons repeatedly. She clenched her jaw and forced out all the air out.

"The ad speaks directly to your audience." Don added. "It's a fully finished product. More time wouldn't change this."

"Kirk, the ads great. It's what Phil wants." Clem piped up. "Maybe we could get Joan in the picture."

The men lightly laughed.

"I suppose. I'm just not entirely sold." Kirk said.

"What would sell you?" Pete said.

"I'm not sure. It just doesn't feel right."

"Kirk can I have a quick word with you, outside?" Frank said. Kirk looked over his shoulder to face Frank. Kirk scratched his chin and then obliged his partner. They exchanged hushed words outside the door. Frank was gesturing and raising his voice. Kirk did nothing but move his arm into his pocket and lean back.

"Sorry about this." Clem said.

"No problem at all, if the ad isn't something you're looking for, we can always refine it. Don is on the right track here though." Pete said. Frank swung the door open, making room for his partner to enter.

"We're gonna sleep on it." Kirk said. "I'm going to take this to Phil Mackland; he's our rep from Consolidated Cigars. I can call you with our answer tomorrow?"

"Kirk," Clem said looking up. Kirk glared down at his partner. He didn't speak.

"Is there something going on here?" Pete stood up, buttoning his suit. "If there is some conflict happening we can surely resolve the issues."

"No issues at all." Kirk said, staring at Kaye.

"Well then if there's no issue," Joan began strutting over to Kirk, the cigarillo between her fingers. "Why don't you sign off today?"

A long silence. Each person stared at Lorrie. The man scanned the room quickly.

"Because I don't want to make a step without ensuring proper care has been taken."

"I guess Consolidated should have come." Kaye said, clicking her pen and then looking up. "No point in standing in the waters downstream."

The slight smile disappeared from Kirk's lips.

"Frank, Clem." Kirk said dismissively. Both of the men sighed, stood up and put their coats on.

"Sorry to see you boys go." Roger said, standing and buttoning his suit. He moved to hold the doors open. Frank and Clem marched out with Roger in tow.

"We can always work with some other ideas…" Pete's voice faded as he followed the other men out the door. Joan watched Kaye, giving her eyes, and then leaving. Don walked by Kirk. The room had cleared out, and Kaye slowed as Kirk was letting the conference room door go.

"Couldn't stand to lose?" Kaye said.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Close the door."

Kirk let the glass door go. The room became deafeningly silent.

"Remember our deal." Kaye started.

"What deal? All I remember was you pitching a good idea in person when I was a little drunk. It must have seemed a lot better to me under dim lights."

"I'll go to your wife. Don't think for one second I won't…"

Kirk cut her off quickly. "She already knows. I told her everything."

Kaye said nothing.

"Some young thing from a hotshot advertising agency came on to me in the bathroom at the club. I was just trying to leave but she refused to let me go. She even went so far as to trip me, and we both fell down." Lorrie spun around and began pacing in the room with his hands in his pockets. "Lucky I was okay, once I came to. You know, the craziest thing happened. They tried to twist my arm, forcing me to sign on! It was all a plot to save their floundering business. My wife is very much against that idea of course. She knows they would say anything to get me to look bad." He marched over and stood inches from her.

Kaye balled her fist and clenched her jaw tightly.

"Go ahead." He said, bracing. Kaye's heartrate pounded in her chest. She fought it with everything in her power. She stooped her shoulder, and forced them to relax.

"I didn't think so." He continued. "I'll be making my recommendations tonight. Frank and Clem can be easily persuaded."

Kaye stormed out of the room, slamming the door open so hard it reverberated the windows. Allison and Caroline jumped in their seats and watched as she moved down the hall stomping towards her office.

"Donna." Kaye said as she approached. The woman looked up from her typewriter.

"Get Consolidated Cigars on the phone, right now. Phillip Mackland"

"Right away, Miss Sharpe."

Kaye moved into her office, walked over to her drinks cart, and uncorked a bottle of gin. Bringing it to her lips, she downed multiple swigs, emptying the top of the bottle.

"That indignant little fuck." She said.

There was a knock at the door.

"What happened in there?" Don stood in the doorway. "We had them. Frank and Clem were drooling the whole time."

"It's me." Kaye said, looking at Don while placing the bottle onto her desk. "It's because of me."

"What?"

"I strong-armed him at the Club. I said I would tell his wife what happened if he didn't give us the account. He told her I came onto him, trying to blackmail him into signing."

Don dropped his shoulders. He walked further into the office, placing his hand on her arm.

"Forget it. They weren't worth it. We'll wrap it up; show it to some other tobacco."

Kaye's telephone rang. She reached over and grabbed the receiver.

"I have a Phil Mackland from Consolidated Cigars on the line." Donna said.

"Put him through."

Don stood over Kaye.

"Hello." the man on the other end of the line said.

"Hi, Mr. Mackland, my name is Kaye Sharpe. I'm calling from Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, how are you?"

"I'm well. I'm a little busy today; can I ask what this is regarding?"

"I'll get right to it then. We just pitched Muriel Cigars for an advertisement print bit, they loved it, but they just need you to come down to our offices to sign off on the whole thing."

"Kirk Lorrie is the man at Muriel to consult on this; he can sign off on it."

"Mr. Lorrie was here at the pitch, he liked it. Mr. Mercer and Mr. Matthews loved it. Mr. Lorrie seemed unsure of whether he could finish the deal. We have 3 other meetings today, but I was hoping you could come by, hear us out, and sign off so we can get this to the public as soon as possible."

"As I said earlier, am I pretty full up today… where are you located?"

"Rockefeller Center. 1271 Avenue of the Americas."

"I'm in Rose Hill on 2nd. I could come uptown for a half hour now; I'm leaving for Fort Lauderdale in a few hours."

"Great. 35th floor. They'll be expecting you at reception."

"Alright, I'll leave now. Bye."

The receiver clicked.

"This better work." Don said, walking out of the room.

"Have I let you down before?" Kaye followed him out.


Don went back to the conference room, and replaced the storyboard. He setup glasses on the table, and moved the chairs into place. Kaye had gone to Joan, explaining what was happening. Roger and Pete walked the Muriel crew out to the elevator, coming back in to the rush to reset the office. Accounts were infuriated.

"We shouldn't be doing this." Pete said, adjusting his collar. "This is very unorthodox"

"It's already done." Don said, wheeling a chair into place. "They were only going to call back with bad news."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"We can't back out now anyway. We'll look weak."

At noon, Phil Mackland made his way through SCDP's lobby and down the hall, escorted by Joan. He was tantalised by her company. He was a younger man, close to Don's age. He sat down in the conference room, grabbed a glass of bourbon, and leaned back in the chair.

"Alright." Phil said. "Let's hear it."

Don went through the pitch as he had an hour before. It was clockwork; every emotion was perfectly captured and displayed. Joan stood at the right time, lighting up and smoking, saying her line sensually.

"Nothing more needs to be said." Don finished.

"I like it." Phil smiled. "It's suggestive. Gets to the younger generation. Kirk should have just signed off." He stood from his chair.

"Great," Roger said. "We'll finish the contract, and you can be on your way."

"I'll follow you out." Phil began shaking everyone's hands as they left.

"You shouldn't have gone to Mackland." Pete said quietly to Kaye as they stood in the hall, outside the conference room.

"Did you want the account or not?" Kaye lit a cigarette. "They weren't going to sign."

"This is going to come back to bite us in the ass."

"Line your back pockets first, then."

"Getting paid is easy. Creative never seems to realise you're dealing with a human being. When Lorrie finds out, he's going to lose it. He'll talk to his friends, and suddenly we're squeezed on tobacco. Kirk knows Lee Garner Jr. You think they won't talk? Now Roger is going to have to run interference on Lucky Strike. We just gained a few million, sure. But at the stake of losing twenty four." Pete said.

"We're not cash poor. We've got Pan Am."

"And that's good, but if you keep stepping on people's toes, we won't have them for long. We're top-heavy as it is, and we're barely out of the gate."

Kaye said nothing.

"Don't go over the clients head again." Pete turned and walked toward his office. Roger and Joan were escorting Phil Mackland out of the lobby when Don came over to Kaye as she moved to look out the window.

"You thought quick on your feet." Don said. "Don't do it again."

"I already got the riot act from Campbell."

"Pete's job is to handle clients. He knows how to deal with a crisis."

"He has no idea what happened, and why."

"You're right. All the more reason to trust his judgement."

Kaye turned and faced Don.

"I told you to let this go." Don said. "These people aren't worth it."

"Not until he knows that I've won." Kaye smoked.

"Ever been to the Belmont Stakes?" Roger said, walking up behind Don and Kaye. Neither responded.

"I'll take that as a no. It's at Aquaduct this year. Jane will come. You're both coming. Bring someone along."

"Okay?" Don said.

"We're rubbing shoulders with Dave Packard. He's part of a computer company in California, Hewlett Packard. Kid at CGC told Joey about him. Apparently they're going after him. Has some microcomputer release planned. Could be big."

"If they find out, they'll come after us." Don said.

"To the victor go the spoils." Roger smiled and turned, walking into his office. Once the door had shut, Don spoke.

"You'll come?"

"Not like I have a choice." Kaye said. "Who're you going to bring?"

"I don't know yet. Finish the Gibson spread by Thursday night. We can talk about this computer deal on Friday. I'm going to my office to make a call."

Kaye butted her cigarette into the ashtray on Allison's desk. Don walked into his office. He sat down at his desk, lit a cigarette while leaning over to his phone, and spinning the rotary dial. The phone began ringing.

"Francis residence." The female voice said.

"Hello Nancy." Don said.

"Don. How're you?"

"Is Betty around?"

"Yes."

"Well… can I speak to her?"

"Are you going to take me out on Friday night?"

"Quiet. We can talk about that later, put Betty on."

"I suppose. If you're going to take me out on Friday night."

"Fine."

"I'll get Mrs. Francis. One moment." The phone was placed down on the counter. It took a while before someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Betts."

"Hi. How can I help?"

"I need a favour."

"I can't take the kids this weekend. I'm preparing the house for Hen…"

"I want you to come with me to the Belmont Stakes on Saturday. Work outing."

"The horserace?"

"Yes."

She hesitated. "I'm very busy this weekend. I have lots planned, and I need to clean up the kids messes."

"I'll have Celia watch them at my place. Clean the house on Sunday."

Betty looked over at Sally at the dinner table. She was doing her homework, and Bobby was on the floor in the kitchen, playing with his toy cars.

"I don't think this is appropriate, given the—"

"I need you. I wouldn't be asking otherwise. You're much better acquainted with horses anyway."

"… Alright." She said. "Pick me up at the house."

"Good. I'll be there just after one."

"See you then. This is not a date, Don."

"Of course not."

Don hung up the phone.

After butting her cigarette, Kaye walked down the hall to the Creative room. Peggy was sitting at the table, alone.

"Where is everyone?" Kaye asked.

"Stan and Joey went to lunch. I heard you closed the deal on Muriel."

"We'll see if it sticks."

"I'm sorry about what I said on Friday."

Kaye moved over and sat across the table. She was silent.

"I was listening. Over the P.A in Joan's office. I heard what he said to you. You should go to the police."

"Tell me why you think I haven't." Kaye leaned over the table.

"What?"

"Tell me why you think I haven't gone to the police. What's your theory?"

"Because… nothing will happen?"

"Right." She leaned back. "They'll waste my time, I'll waste their time, and nothing will come of it. I'll drag us down with me."

"Some thing's are worth fighting for." Peggy said, sipping a tumbler of water.

"Not this." Kaye said, looking over her shoulder. She turned back and looked to Peggy. "We need to work on Gibson. What do we have?"

"You plug it in, it turns you on." Peggy reached across the table to give Kaye a sheet of paper. It had a drawing of a woman, naked, lest an electric guitar covering her breasts and lower region. She was smiling seductively at the camera. "And you produce sounds you've never heard before. The sounds you'll love."

Kaye studied it.

"It's good. You've shown it to Stan?"

"He's starting this afternoon."

"What does Don think?"

"I don't show it to Don until the art's done."

Stan and Joey came into the Creative room with their jackets on. Stan threw his onto the couch and sat between Kaye and Peggy.

"Howdee-do girls."

"You're gonna start on this?" Kaye flipped up the sketch.

"Should be done tomorrow."

"We're going to the Belmont Stakes on Saturday. I need a date." She said, and looked to Stan.

"I'm your man." Joey piped up. Everyone turned to him. Stan looked at Kaye.

"Alright. Joey you're with me." She said.

"Stan?" Peggy said.

"It's just Don, Roger and I." Kaye said. "Roger's meeting a possible client from California. I assume we need to show face to prove he isn't there poaching."

"Poaching from who?" Joey asked.

"CGC. Whoever they are."

"Cutler, Gleason and Chaough." Joey said. "Jonny's gonna kill me."

"You shouldn't have shared it." Kaye smiled.

"I didn't think Roger would actually go after them."

"We're in the business of getting business." Stan said. "What did you expect?"

"How would he ever find out it was you?" Peggy asked.

"Because they're going after Hewlett Packard, right now. They're prepping a pitch and going to L.A next week, or something. If we come swooping in, he'll know."

"Better start puckering up." Stan said.

"Great." Joey said, leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" Peggy yelled. Joey didn't respond. Kaye stood up and began walking back to her office. Stan followed at close proximity.

"Bet $2 on Northern Dancer for me. He's gonna win the Triple Crown."

"Every time you bet on a game, you lose." Kaye said, opening the door. Stan followed her in.

"You don't know that. It's a low odds bet anyway. Only pays like 2 to 1."

Kaye sat down at her desk. They were silent.

"I would have gone with you." Stan said. "To the Stakes."

"I know." She said. "I wanted you to come. Hopefully Joey is more entertaining out of the office."

"You've been acting differently, lately."

"What do you mean?"

"Since we…." He moved closer to her. "Since we were together."

"I'm the same. Do you expect me to act differently?"

"I don't expect you to act any way."

"Yes, you do." She stood up going to the drinks cart, and pouring herself gin. "You expect me to touch your arm when we talk, or call you when I'm cold at night, or smile at you when I pass you in the hall. You expect that something has changed. It hasn't."

Stan stood silently.

"You want me to change, and I'm not going to change."

He watched her drink. She walked over to him, ending up nearly under his nose.

"You want Peggy, do you not?" Kaye asked.

"Yes…"

"Then why are you in here with me?"

Stan sighed. He moved back, and leaned against the wall.

"I don't know." He looked up at the ceiling. He ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know."

"I lied." Kaye finished the glass, placing it down on her desk. Stan looked at her.

"When I told you nothing had changed. It has changed. The difference is that I don't let it affect me. This job is everything to me. It's all I have. I'm not going to throw it away for a useless office affair"

Stan winced.

"I would never expect you to throw your job away…"

"But you do. No one would respect me. I would lose all my credibility."

"Roger married his secretary. He's doing fine."

"People admire Roger for what he can do with a client, not a woman. You want to marry me now?"

"It was just an example. Office flings happen all the time."

"I wouldn't know."

"You're afraid of getting hurt." Stan said.

"Yes." Kaye grabbed the glass from her desk, and filled it again. "And you're not?"

"I don't know what to think. I'm confused."

"Straighten up, and fly right. Figure out what you want, and take it. I've got a lunch date. I'll be back in hour or so." She grabbed her coat, which hung on the rack near the hutch. Stan moved towards her, caressing her arm. He kissed her passionately as she turned. Kaye let her arm down, and kissed him back, letting her lips linger on his. He pushed her against the wall, and then leaned onto her. She let her bag down, and then reached up, pushing him away.

"Figure out what you want." Kaye said, their noses touching. Stan smiled and slowly pulled away.

"Is the date with a handsome policeman?" Stan stepped back from her, and opened the door to the office.

"Wouldn't that be upsetting." She said.


Kaye met Elena at a small café near the waterfront. She had been asking each day of the week if Kaye would be free for lunch, and each day except the previous was a stern 'no'. Kaye didn't know what changed her mind. Her sister was leaving soon, and she felt obligated to treat her to a meal. It was a lukewarm day, and they sat on the patio that jutted out over much of the sidewalk.

"I'm surprised you finally agreed to meet. I was beginning to think I wouldn't see you at all." Elena started.

"I'm sorry. Work's been busy. We've got a lot on our plates."

"So, how did you get the job? I was happy to hear when you called."

"I showed them some of my work, for the Carnegie Company." Kaye pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"You do the drawings for ads on T.V and newspapers?"

"Some of them. Pan Am, Lucky Strike, Jai Lai, Samsonite." The cigarette dangled between her lips. "Some of the companies we represent."

"Impressive. You've come a long way from Connecticut."

"Hasn't been easy." She flicked ash into an ashtray on the table. "What about you and Hugh. A road trip across America?"

"We'll see. We needed a break; Hugh has been working constantly. We've been saving for a year for this."

"A break from what?" Kaye asked.

"If I am being honest, we've been trying to have children. For some years now. It hasn't been easy, on either of us. We've felt the constant pressure. I keep feeling like I've disappointed Mother. What would she say?" Elena smiled lightly.

"Nothing." Kaye inhaled. "She's dead."

Elena frowned. "Must you be so blunt all the time? I was speaking metaphorically."

"I'm reminding you that it doesn't matter what she would say. She would be too hopped up on Dilaudid to care anyway."

"That's all you remember her as." Elena said. The waitress came by, dropping off their drinks and two muffins. "She wasn't always like that. She was an amazing and resilient person. She only went that way after Father."

"After dad threw himself off a building, yeah I know."

"I wish for your sake you knew them both better." Elena said, stoically

"I'm not here to argue about Sybil and Dad." Kaye said. "I am sorry about the kids."

"Don't be. I'm not anymore. I've let it go. The doctor says dwelling on it just makes it worse. I'm glad you let us to stay with you." Elena reached across the table to Kaye's hand. She placed it on top and squeezed.

"Your letter in January really surprised us. I never thought you would reply."

"I didn't either." Kaye flicked more ash away.

"What changed your mind?"

There was a long silence. Kaye sighed, thinking. Finally she spoke.

"I never wrote you. I'm sorry. I never planned to write you. The letter you got was not from me. An idiot from the office thought it would be funny to meddle in my life."

Elena leaned back in her chair. She looked out in the street.

"I should have known better." She said.

"I'm sorry."

"You never said anything. You were going to let us go on believing you wanted us here."

"I was." She smoked. "I was wrong."

"Why? Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"Believing a lie is easier than the truth." Kaye said. "As I said, I'm sorry."

"What's gotten into you?"

Kaye sat silently.

"You're never home. You bought this expensive apartment you never live in. You live at the office. You come home late, you leave early."

"I have lots of work to do."

"What about the massive bruise on your shoulder and neck? No amount of foundation can cover that up. You limped awkwardly on the weekend when I did see you. Are you in a dangerous relationship?"

"I'm not in a relationship."

"Then what happened?"

"I…" She stopped. Her hands began to shake. She looked quickly at her purse, which was hanging on her chair. The brown vial was sitting at the bottom waiting for her.

"Tell me the truth. I deserve to know that, don't I?"

Kaye looked into the distance, her cigarette dangling from her mouth. Her mind was blank; a white sheet of ocean sounds. Briefly, she reached back in her mind to Kirk Lorrie, his smug pretentious smile as she left the conference room.

She thought of sleeping with Stan, of their soiree at the 22 Club. She went back to January, when they landed Pan Am, and to December, when she stumbled into Sterling Cooper on Friday the 13th. She saw herself freezing outside; huddled into the phone booth, calling Herman. She thought back further to leaving Connecticut one warm summer night in her father's Nash. Her eyes were bright. She was excited, ready to start a new life. She was sorry to leave, but she had to make her own way.

Her hands began shaking more vigorously.

"Are you cold? It's a bit chilly I suppose."

"No." Kaye said. "Things are tough…"

Kaye trailed off, looking away from her sister. Her head tilted down, and her cheeks turned rosy. Tears began rolling down her face. Elena moved her chair forward, closer to her sister.

"What's wrong?"

"I didn't come here to… to waste time."

"You're not wasting my time. Kaye, what is wrong?"

There was a long pause. Kaye averted her eyes to watch the cars on the street drive by. She ran her fingernails under the hem of her nylons. She bit the edge of her lip. Everything was screaming at her, all at once.

"Do you remember when you were little," Elena began. "And Father would take us to the city? He did it a few times. One time, you mustn't have been more than five, we went to see Enoch Light at the Taft Hotel. It was Christmastime. He played this beautiful tune, with a piano leading, I can't remember…"

"Autumn Leaves." Kaye said.

"What?"

"The song. It was Autumn Leaves."

Elena smiled. "Autumn Leaves. You were mesmerised. You left the table and went to sit stageside. You couldn't take your eyes off the pianist."

"I remember." The faintest smile rested on Kaye's lips; she looked down at her hands.

"That's how I remember you." Elena said. "When I was worried about you, and I missed you. When you'd gone; that memory of 20 years ago kept me sane. I always thought you'd do something in music, you know? I was sure you'd end up in the theatre, or someone would find you playing a piano in the corner of a bar, and they'd pick you up."

Tears began rolling down Kaye's cheeks. She wiped them away underneath her glasses.

"Sybil Sharpe wouldn't have had that." She chided.

"Mother was never creative, I'll give you that." Elena said. "You're all Father."

"I'm stuck, Ellie." Kaye interrupted. Elena snapped to her younger sister. She was crying. "I'm in a bad, bad way."

"What's happened?"

"There are things I've done-" Kaye snorted; her nose had begun to run. "That I can't undo."

"I'm not following you." Elena said.

"I'm stuck…" Kaye began crying harder now. She looked up and closed her mouth, choking on her words briefly. "I'm stuck on amphetamines. They make my hands shake if I don't take them. I feel awful. When I take them, I'm productive, excited, happy, and everything's okay. I drink whiskey to bring me down. Level out… to stop the pounding in my head. I'm paranoid, all the time. I think the FBI is watching me, I'm…"

"Why in God's name would the FBI be watching you?"

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Kaye shot. "I'm always looking over my shoulder. I feel like the police are always closing in on me. My heart skips a beat when they are behind me on the road, or when they walk by the house."

"Kaye." Elena reached across the table, and held her hand. "We can get you into one of those rehabilitation centres."

"No." She said. "With those street rats? God no. I'd rather die. This is humiliating enough."

"I can stay longer if you need, Hugh and I can delay the trip."

"I don't want you here." Kaye said. "I want you and Hugh to go on your trip, to enjoy yourselves." She took off her glasses, putting them on the table, and wiping her face with her sleeve.

"You need help. Hugh and I can help you."

"I don't need help. I regret mentioning it. This was a mistake."

"Is that why you have a gun at your house?"

Kaye's heart doubled in speed. The instant painful surge of adrenaline coursed through her fingertips.

"What gun?"

"The gun. In the shoebox. Are you afraid of someone? Of people hurting you?"

"You should never have gone through my things." Kaye spat. She clenched her jaw. "How dare you. I let you into my house, I let you stay…"

"You left the shoebox in your kitchen cupboard!" Elena raised her tone reflexively. "I thought you might have spices in there! Why would you hide a gun in your kitchen?"

"I forgot about it… I live alone, Ellie. Why would I be concerned about people snooping around?"

"I wasn't snooping. I was trying to make lunch." She said. "Did someone take advantage of you? Is that why you're paranoid? Is that why you have the gun?"

Kaye looked up; she sat in silence.

"I just want you to know, that I am here. If someone is hurting you..." Elena said.

"No one is hurting me." Kaye said. "It got myself out of a bad situation. I'm alright. I don't want to talk about it."

"I assumed you were in a relationship because I heard someone over the other night. Talking in your room; it was late. Sounded like a man. You woke up, and I noticed the bruises. I know it's not my business…"

"You're right. It's not your business."

"How do you expect to go through life like this?" Elena snapped. "To constantly push people away? For god's sake, I am just worried about you. This is the first time we've talked in years. You look beat down, and ragged. You may be rich, but you're wasting away."

"I'm not rich."

"Oh please, Kaye. Don't insult me. I know you better than you think."

"No you don't." Kaye raised her voice. "You don't know even the first thing about me. You think you know me. You think you're Mother. You aren't, and you never were. Stop trying to protect me."

"Because you're doing such a good job yourself."

"At least I'm doing it by myself." Kaye was nearly shouting. She stood up. "What did you have at my age? I live at Gramercy Park, and I drive a Mercedes. How's the old Chevy? The tiny house in Bridgeport nowhere. Sales doing good for Hugh?"

"I wish you could see yourself." Elena said, crossing her hands over her legs. "I wish I could take that little girl at the Taft, and show her you. I wonder what she'd say."

Silence. The wind blew around Kaye, ruffling her dress.

"I don't need your pity." She said.

"I never said I pitied you. You pity you. The girl who once dreamed, pities you. The girl whose life was still in front of her, pities you."

"I didn't have a choice. I had to go. We weren't getting on; we fought constantly."

"Everyone has a choice. I chose to raise you. I made mistakes; I was young. Most of all, I was terrified of ending up on the streets. I thought I would have to sell myself to take care of us. In the last years, Mother provided nothing. She left me to do everything; you talk of Mother as if you knew her."

"At least she abandoned me for pills. You abandoned me for Hugh while pretending to care."

"Oh." Elena said. "I see."

"I was just a little girl. And you forgot all about me. Maybe you and Sybil are more alike than you think." Kaye stood back from the table.

"You have no idea what raising a child is like." Elena turned. "You don't have even the slightest inclination. I married Hugh because he was sweet on me, kind, loving, compassionate, and got you and I out of a horrible place. I've come to love him more than anyone I've ever met. What more did you want from me? Mother was gone; the money was gone. We had nowhere to go. I was 17. Hugh had enough to keep us from the streets, and that small house in Bridgeport was our salvation. That saved our lives. How can you be so unfeeling and ungrateful?"

"I have to get back." Kaye said. She reached into her clutch, grabbing change. She slipped two dollars under the ashtray. "I'll be away most of the week. I don't know when you're leaving."

"This was our last day. I already told you that." Elena stood up.

"Say goodbye to Hugh for me." She looked at her sister.

"I wish you wouldn't leave in such a state. You do nothing for yourself by avoiding your problems, and burying your head in the sand."

"What more is there to say? We disagree on practically everything."

"That is so. But I still love you."

Elena leaned over without prompt and hugged her sister. Kaye was shocked. She stood still, not breathing. When she realised Elena wasn't letting go, she placed her arm over her back. They said nothing for a long time.

"Goodbye, Kaye." Elena said, kissing her cheek.

Kaye couldn't say anything. There was a lump caught in her throat. A headache split her mind. She was falling fast through the comedown. She placed both of her hands on Elena's sides, and pushed her face into her shoulder. She erupted in tears and anguish. Letting go, the tears soaked Elena's coat. Elena put her arms around her younger sister, tilting her head to lay against hers. It was a few minutes before Kaye let up.

Her mascara had run everywhere; her blush had come off on the coat. She sighed, leaning off her sister.

"I need to go." She mumbled.

"I love you. Be safe." Elena said.

"I love you too." Kaye said.

She turned away, opening the small gate on the patio near the table, leading to the street. Once she'd moved out of the way of the restaurant, she grabbed the Benzedrine from her clutch, and snorted a long line off the crook of her thumb. Reaching into her cigarette case, she removed one and lit it. After a few puffs, she stabilised. The car was not far ahead. The Mercedes started, and she made her way uptown. She thought alone about the Stakes on Saturday.