“I know, but it’s dull without you here with us,” Lara said.
“And with Ruthie gone too,” Pauline said, “it’s just not the same around here.”
“She’s right. Ziegfeld just brought in twenty new ponies for theupcoming season,” Lara whispered. “Half of them don’t look much past sixteen!”
Gladys sauntered over and took my hand. “Will you all stop gossiping and give the poor girl some space?” And with everyone following alongside, she led me out the door to the rehearsal room, where we sat down to put our shoes on. “So, tell us everything. Have you been practicing for your wedding night?”
“Oh, Gladys!” I said. “You don’t change.”
I took my T-straps out of my bag.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” I said. “I brought gifts.” I had with me a box filled with little bottles of maple syrup. I’d written the name of each of the girls on tags tied with ribbon to each bottle. “Gladys, Lillian, Pauline,” I said, taking out the first three. “These are from our sugar maples at the camp. Eugene tapped the trees last spring and we still have some left. You all have to come back up in early spring when the snow melts, we’re going to have a sugaring-off party when the sap starts to run.”
“My goodness, Olive,” Gladys said. “You’re turning into a darling little farmer.”
“Well,” I said, bristling slightly. “Makes for a fine maple bee’s knees.”
“What, no honey?”
“That’s right—our barkeep makes them with maple syrup instead, lemon and plenty of gin.”
“Now that’s more like it.”
Along with some of the old standards, Howie had updated the choreography of one of my favorite acts to make it fresh—a sassy number that felt very apropos. It featured me and all the girls going shopping, each girl pulling me in a different direction. The set was much improved, too, like a real department store. We danced from a makeup counter to a jewelry section, each girl wanting advice for different reasons. I was needed and wanted by each of them, but I had to keep pulling away, checking the time, and eventually I made my way up that famous Ziegfeld spiral staircase. At the top Eddie Cantor stood in silhouette, waiting. I kept running back down a few stairs, just one more thing to attend to, but eventually I reached the top. In the spotlight, I sang a final farewell number at the top of the staircase and then joined arms with Eddie and together we walked down the other side of the staircase. One final kiss to the audience and we exited stage left.
We ran through all the numbers over and over, and it felt so good to be moving, dancing, singing. It reminded me of those early days when I first joined theFolliesand worked so damned hard every day to get caught up, to be as good as the other girls, to perfect that Ziegfeld walk. How quickly I’d made friends, how generously they’d welcomed me—me, the new girl from Minnesota.
Because I’d been away from it for two months, my body felt less malleable than before, and by the end of the day my muscles ached and my feet pounded. But I loved the physical reminders that I was back where I wanted to be, doing what my body craved.
My mind had been full lately, spinning and churning with thoughts of the wedding, thoughts of Archie, our future, my future, my final show and the aftermath, but for those few days of rehearsalI tried to push all that out of my mind. Just enjoy this time with the girls, I told myself, relish this last performance, you’ll face whatever comes next when it comes.
We went out for dinner on the first night, but after being out of practice, I was too dog-tired to rehearse all day and dance all night, so we piled into Pauline’s place in Inwood—the same apartment I’d shared with Ruthie—and stayed up late chatting instead.
“You are so lucky, Olive,” Lara said when we were sitting on the living room floor drinking hot cocoa that Pauline fixed for us. “Archie’s not just rich, he’s handsome, too, and he seems like he’s really in love with you. How’d you find one with all three? Everyone I know settles for two, sometimes even one out of three.”
“He’s one heck of a guy,” I said.
“And you don’t have to do this anymore,” Lara said.
“What’s ‘this’?” I said.
“Performing, making money, sitting on the floor with us girls.”
“But I want to do this,” I said, “I wish I could do it forever.”
“No, you don’t,” Gladys chimed in. She had made it clear for some time now that she wanted to find the perfect johnny to take care of her.
“I do,” I insisted. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“You say you do, but we’re getting on, Olive, you’re just about in your mid-twenties and I’m…” She paused. “Well, no one needs to know the exact details, but I want to leave show business on my own time, not get kicked out of here to make way for those young ponies coming in.”
“Ruthie settled for one out of three,” Pauline called out from the kitchen.
“That’s not true,” I said. “Lawrence is a good fellow.”
“Sure it’s true. Lawrence loves her a good deal, but he’s not a looker, and he’s not rich.”
“Who cares if he’s rich?” I said. “And he’s a looker in Ruthie’s eyes, and that’s all that matters.”
