The Dollhouse(69)
A: A guy named Benny Kalai.
Jason whooped. “This is huge. Esme was involved in heroin.”
“Looks like it. No mention of Sam in there, just Esme. And Kalai.”
“I wonder if Darby knew what was going on.”
“We’ll have to ask her that when we see her.”
“I can’t wait. Speaking of which, any news as to when she’ll be back? Tyler wants a rough cut and the first draft by the end of next week.”
“It’ll be close,” said Rose. The discussion of deadlines ignited a fizz of nerves deep in her belly.
He leafed through the pages. “I wonder what happened to Kalai after this came out?”
“I had the same question. Turns out Kalai ended up in Sing Sing in 1954. Looks like it took some time to indict him. He died there ten years later.”
Jason beamed at her. “Tyler will love this.”
“Maids and heroin deals in the fifties? You bet.”
“Right up his alley, twisted fuck.”
“Makes the story more interesting, rather than the reminiscences of a bunch of old ladies.”
“That’s harsh. Their stories are fantastic. You know that as well as I do.”
She tried not to gloat at the reversal. Jason was championing the cause. “Yup.”
Her phone vibrated. The ID read ASTOR ASSISTED LIVING. She answered immediately.
“Is this Ms. Lewin?”
“Yes.”
“This is Brenda from Astor. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m afraid your father’s had a fall.”
Rose closed her eyes and swayed ever so slightly, trying not to panic. “Is he okay?”
The woman’s answer was not reassuring. “You should meet us at Mount Sinai West.”
“I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
New York City, 1952
Darby sat down to write a letter to Mother as soon as she got back to the Barbizon. Strange how now that she’d been expelled from Gibbs, her room took on an unexpected, nostalgic hue. She’d miss the view from the window. Even the garish curtains and bedspread seemed endearing.
The door opened with a bang and Maureen rushed in.
“Darby, I heard the news.”
“Right. I guess everyone at the school knows by now.”
Maureen leaned over and gave her an awkward hug, then sat on the bed. “I can’t believe they’d do this to you.”
“It’s so unfair. I explained to Mrs. Tibbett that I was really trying, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m writing a letter to Mother explaining everything, saying that I’m sorry to disappoint her but that I’ll go back to Defiance and work hard, pay her back in full.” Esme came to mind, working one job during the day and another at night, all while going to school. “I know I can do it.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Maureen’s gaze drifted over to the open door, where two Ford girls trying on princess costumes for Halloween squealed over each other.
Darby shrugged. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure. I feel bad about the money, of course, but it’s probably all for the best.”
Maureen nodded, her mouth slightly open, still entranced by the creatures in the hallway.
“I’ll miss you and the twins.”
Maureen snapped back to attention. “And I’ll miss you terribly. Why don’t I go to Mrs. Tibbett and put in a good word? Do you think that’d help? I know Edna and Edith will join me. They absolutely adore you.”
“I doubt that would do any good. Maybe I’m not cut out for New York after all.”
Without excusing the interruption, one of the Ford girls turned and beckoned to Maureen from across the hall. “You. We need your fingers. Sandra’s zipper is stuck.”
Maureen scuttled over and did as they commanded, holding the material together as the other girl slowly encased Sandra in a taffy-colored satin gown. After, Maureen remained in the doorway, watching them drift off without even a thank-you. Not that she needed one. For Maureen, just getting noticed by one of the giraffes was enough reward. Thanks to Esme, they no longer had such an effect on Darby.
Once she’d broken free from the spell, Maureen insisted that she and Darby be pen pals, and after Darby promised to write, they hugged a teary good-bye. Darby finished the letter, sealed it in an envelope, and placed it on top of her desk. Part of her was relieved to no longer have to pretend that she wanted to be a secretary, but she’d never let anyone down like this before. Mother’s displeasure would be crushing.
A knock on the door broke her concentration. She recognized the sharp rap. “Come in, Esme.”
“Hey there, chica. What’s going on?”
She didn’t bother softening the news. “I’ve been expelled.”
Esme perched on the window ledge and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? I was a bad influence on you.”
The same thought had gone through Darby’s head. What if she hadn’t made friends with Esme and gotten dazzled by nights filled with bebop and Sam?
She shrugged off the thought. “I’m the one who showed up late, who failed tests. I hated secretarial school, but I liked what we did together. Anyway, I just wrote to Mother. Once she gets this and sends me train fare, I’ll be on my way.”