The Dollhouse(18)

“You don’t understand. I’m going to be a secretary. Secretaries aren’t meant to be chic.”

Esme walked over to the window and yanked it open. She sat on the ledge, repinning the maid’s cap on her head. “Why limit yourself? I don’t. I’m going to be a famous entertainer. I’m auditioning this week for the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. I’m gonna make films and have fans swoon over me.”

Darby studied Esme with renewed interest. She’d never seen anyone with her kind of accent as a major film star. In the background, sure, but not like Judy Garland and Katharine Hepburn. They didn’t talk or look like this girl.

“I know, you think I’m not the right type. But I can do proper, and I can do fiery. I’m going to show them when I audition. I’ll knock their socks off.”

“What kind of thing do you have to do for the audition?”

“I’ll be performing a monologue from Romeo and Juliet. By Shakespeare.”

An ambitious choice. “How exciting.”

Esme grabbed Darby’s bathrobe where it lay on the armchair and tossed it to her. “Hey, we should go out sometime this week. I can show you the best places in town. The real ones. Not the stuck-up supper clubs.”

Darby wasn’t sure how to respond. Mother would never approve of her hanging about with one of the maids from the hotel. The uncertainty must have registered on her face, as Esme shrugged and stood. “You don’t have to. I’m sure you’ll be busy with your school stuff.”

Darby hated the idea of rebuffing the only person, besides Stella, who had shown any kindness to her. Then again, look what Stella had led her into. She had to keep her distance, be careful. “But thank you for the invitation.”

“Sure. Here’s what I recommend: Talk to Mrs. Eustis, and stay away from the giraffes. Good luck.”

Darby wanted to say more, to reach out in some way and let Esme know how much she appreciated her help and kind words, but Esme closed the door with a quiet click before she could utter a word.




Mrs. Eustis had promised to look into a room transfer for Darby, but four days later, she hadn’t heard back. Darby’s routine consisted of getting up early, before the other girls rose, running in and out of the bathroom as quickly and quietly as possible, and then heading off to class at the Katharine Gibbs School. The first day, the school director had listed off the qualifications for Gibbs graduates, including a strong work ethic and a respectable background. When she added that graduates were known for having a “natural physical endowment,” Darby could have sworn she looked right at her, and not in a good way. What the heck did that mean? Pretty? Buxom? She’d pulled her shoulders back and sat up straighter.

The classes were tedious, for the most part: typing, shorthand, communication, and spelling tests. She’d already received bad marks for having a run in her stockings, and another for slouching. She missed her English teacher from high school, who’d assigned short stories and Russian novels to be analyzed in great detail. Learning to type and memorizing Gregg shorthand symbols were deadly boring in comparison.

By Thursday evening of her first week, she was frustrated. And hungry. She’d waited until all the other girls left before going down to the Barbizon dining room, and missed dinner by five minutes. She was staring longingly at the menu posted outside the doorway when Esme walked by, carrying a mop and bucket.

“Esme?”

“Miss McLaughlin.” Esme nodded in her direction but kept walking.

“Wait.” Darby dashed after her and put a hand on her arm. Esme’s expression was pleasant but not warm. “I wanted to say thank you for everything you did for me last weekend. You really helped me out there.”

“I’m glad.” She put the bucket down. “Are the giraffes leaving you alone?”

“So far. And I asked Mrs. Eustis for a transfer and she’s working on it. In the meantime, I try to work around their schedules. I’m in school full-time now, so it’s easy.” She didn’t mention that she was dreading the upcoming weekend, when she had nothing at all to do. If she sat inside her room the entire time, she’d go mad, she was sure of that.

Esme nodded in the direction of the dining room. “You miss dinner?”

“I did. So busy with homework.”

“Do you want me to get you a roll or something?”

Darby clutched at her stomach. “Would you? I’m starving. Could you do that without getting into trouble?”

“I’ll meet you up in your room. Be there in ten.”

As promised, Esme showed up with several slices of bread tucked into her laundry basket, along with a small jar of raspberry jelly and a knife.

“Oh, this is wonderful, thank you! Do you want some?”

“No, I’ll just fold some sheets here while you dine, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead.” Darby sat at her desk and slathered the jam on the bread. “May I ask about your audition?”

Esme gave her a wide smile. “It was great. I had it yesterday, and they’ll let me know in a week or so.”

“Tell me, what was it like? Were you nervous?”

“I’m never nervous. I think they were, though. The minute I opened my mouth, you could see they weren’t expecting a Puerto Rican to apply to their fancy academy. All the other people auditioning talked right. But I did my speech and the judges flipped.”