The Dollhouse(27)
The dining room was almost empty when Darby poked her head in that evening before entering, ready to retreat in case any of the Ford models still lingered. But the only other occupants were Maureen and two other Gibbs girls Darby remembered from class. Maureen marched over before Darby could pick up a tray.
“Darby, we’re getting together to drill each other for the business communication test. Wanna join in?” She introduced her friends, twins named Edna and Edith, who wore matching ponytails tied with purple ribbon.
Darby was about to decline when she caught the sound of high-pitched laughter from the end of the hall. Candy was coming. “Sure.”
The seventeenth floor, though identical to the one where Darby and the Ford girls were housed, exuded warmth and welcome. Every door was wide-open, and cheery hellos rang out as they passed by. Even the cubist wall sconces that lined the hallway seemed to shine brighter.
In Maureen’s room, Darby took a seat on the bed, which was covered with a pretty quilt instead of the garish Barbizon-issued coverlet, and opened up her folder. She could use the extra time studying, that much was sure, even if her stomach was growling.
Maureen began reading out loud from her notes but stopped mid-sentence.
“Listen, it’s Benny Goodman!”
From another room came the tinny sound of a transistor radio playing the “King Porter Stomp.”
“Dance with me, Edith.” Maureen held out her hand.
Edith checked in with her sister. “We don’t dance in Lubbock.”
“Don’t dance in Lubbock? Who’s ever heard of such a thing?” Maureen crooked a finger at Darby. “You know the Lindy Hop, right?”
Darby had loved being swung across the floor at the high school dances, although her only partner was the librarian’s lanky son, who had perpetually sweaty palms. “Sure, I guess.”
Edith and Edna sat on the bed, legs tucked under them to offer up as much floor space as possible in the narrow room. Maureen shoved her chair under the desk as far as it would go. “Quick, before the song ends.”
They lightly touched hands and Darby let Maureen take the lead. For being such a stocky girl, Maureen was surprisingly light on her feet, and they twirled and jigged until Darby lost her footing and fell on the bed in a fit of giggles.
But Maureen wasn’t finished. “Everyone on your feet for the Lindy. No excuses.”
After fifteen minutes of practice, even the twins knew the basic steps and they danced in pairs, humming the tune out loud and bumping into one another with clumsy delight.
Finally, exhausted from the effort, they sprawled on the floor, reluctant to return to studying. Darby let out a soft sigh. If only she’d been assigned to the correct floor to begin with, she might have had a brighter start to her New York life.
Edith shoved her notebook with her foot. “I can’t stand doing four hours of homework every night. I should’ve stayed in Texas. My head hurts from remembering the shorthand symbols, and the pads of my fingers ache from typing. It’s inhumane, the way they treat us.”
Edna patted her leg. “Remember what Mother said: If we follow the rules and work hard, we’ll look back at our time in New York with pride.”
“And maybe marry our handsome bosses,” added Maureen.
Darby cringed at the thought. “If that’s the goal, then what’s the point of learning shorthand?” She didn’t mean to sound snappish, but the lack of dinner was getting to her.
Maureen turned over onto her stomach, chin resting in her hands. “What I hate is watching all the models go out on dates every night, dressed in silks and pearls, while we’re stuck inside. They’re all so beautiful. I hope there’ll be some boys left over for us.”
“Don’t you ever go out at all?” Darby asked.
“Sure. We went to a film matinee on Saturday and saw A Streetcar Named Desire. Have you seen it? Marlon Brando acts like a beast for the whole thing but he looks completely divine.”
“True,” Edith tittered. “But he’s not nearly as handsome as Montgomery Clift.”
“How about you, Darby? Who’s your dream date?”
“Me?” She laughed. “I’m too intimidated by the idea of a movie star to even imagine it. And I’m not much better with real people, if you want to know the truth. I met an actual living, breathing boy last night at a jazz club, and I could hardly put two words together.”
Maureen sputtered before getting the words out. “A jazz club? Not truly!”
An electric tingle flew up Darby’s spine. “Sure. It’s downtown, on the Lower East Side. They play bebop, and it’s a real bash.” She hoped she sounded casual and sophisticated.
“Can you imagine what Mrs. Eustis would say if she knew you went to a jazz club?” said Edna. “She’d explode.”
“I came back after curfew as well. Snuck up the back stairs.”
Their awestruck reaction pleased Darby to no end. She described the club, the patrons, the music, in great detail, emphasizing the elements of danger and mystery. And Sam she turned into a dashing hero, with a chiseled profile and piercing eyes.
When she’d finished the description of her daring night out, omitting the fact that a maid from the hotel had been her companion, she made excuses and hugged the girls good-bye. All the dancing had made her too jumpy to sit and study.