Will hoped his second honeymoon idea would pacify Mary, and it seemed to. So far she hadn’t complained about his quitting the market. Once again Will hired Bernie Burns to chauffeur them to Madison. Mary had been so enamored with that pleasant young man, who had brought sunshine into that turbid day, that she insisted he accompany them again.
Will paid quadruple the amount this time, but he knew that Bernie could use the money now that he had a wife and a daughter who was almost Catherine’s age. But Will couldn’t remember her name.
“Opal,” Bernie said. “She’s the crown jewel in our lives.”
Will looked across at Mary and wasn’t surprised to see her smile back. How many times had she teased that Catherine was the crown jewel in his life, even though Ruby was named after a jewel?
“So you’re an old, married man,” Mary said. “Your father must be very proud.”
“Oh, Opal and Grampa are two peas in a pod. He stops to see her every morning on his way to the court house. She knows if he’s ten minutes late, and she won’t leave the window until she sees him drive up the block. I shudder to think what she’d do if he didn’t show up one day. She does love her grampa.”
“Enjoy every moment now,” Mary said. “They grow up so fast. Overnight my first-graders become eighth-graders, it seems.” A frown crossed Mary’s brow. “And they don’t stay innocent for long either. Already Ruby wants to know about the birds and bees. Wants to see a calf born, and she’s only five years old.”
“I fix Opal’s dolls,” Bernie said. “I’ll leave the birds and bees to Shirley.”
“Coward,” Mary said. “Just like all you men.” She glared at Will.
“I don’t think Ruby cares about birds and bees as much as she cares about physiology,” Will said. “That girl’s going to be a nurse.”
“Why not a doctor?” Mary said. “The world’s changing.”
“Maybe we should send the girls to the farm to see a birth,” Will said. “That first one changed my life.”
“Sharon would faint away and Catherine’s too young,” Mary said. “I’m not sure Ruby’s ready either.”
Will wondered if Michael would have been braver about it than his girls, but he doubted that anyone could be braver than Ruby. “I was five,” Will said. “I’ll never forget. I didn’t want to look, but once I saw those two little feet show, I couldn’t turn away. It wasn’t long before this beautiful little brown and white calf was on the ground tossing its head and kicking its heels.” Will stared through the windshield. “’Twas a miracle. I wonder if Dad has any births coming up?”
“Being a town boy,” Bernie said, “I’ve not had that experience.”
“Everyone should,” Will said.
“Dad took me lots of places but not to a farm.”
“It’s not his constituency,” Will said. “But he’s a good man, Tommy Burns, even if he is a politician. We’re lucky to have him for mayor, and municipal judge, too. Two for the price of one.”
At first, Bernie didn’t respond.
“A good man,” Will repeated.
“I’m worried about him, Will.”
”Oh?”
“The market. He’s in awfully deep. I’m afraid it could go sour.”
“You’re not in the market?”
“Not me. I have a family to raise. I’m not getting rich, but I’m doing okay.”
“Well, son, if you ever decide to stop clerking at the grocery, stop and see me. I think you’d make a fine car salesman. I pay good, too.” Will tapped Mary on the shoulder and pointed to a Ford dealership as they drove through Verona. Then he turned back to Bernie. “I worry about your father, too.”
“That Tate fella has him bamboozled. Convinced him to borrow to the hilt to buy more stock. Not right to operate that way. Some people’ll do anything for money.”
“You’re probably right about some people, but not David. He’s as honest a man as you’ll find in town.”
“You know what big money does to a person. And all these profits are making Tate big money. He’s bound to be corrupt.”
“You’re wrong, Bernie.”
Mary pointed toward white board fences that flowed as far as the eyes could see. “Look at those beautiful horses.”
Will counted a dozen elegant Morgans.
“I don’t remember seeing that before,” Mary said.
“It wasn’t there before,” Will said. “David said the head of his company built a horse farm just outside Madison. I bet that’s it. Pull over, Bernie.”
Bernie slowed the car and stopped on the gravel shoulder.
When Will got out to look closer, he heard Bernie say, “So that’s where Dad’s money is going. And you say Tate’s not corrupt.”
A half hour later Bernie opened the car doors in front of the Loraine. Mary held her breath as she looked up. “It’s the tallest building I’ve ever seen. It must be a dozen stories high.” She crushed the flowers on her hat as she held it tight to her head, tilted back, and looked into the sky. “One, two, three.” Mary took a step back as she continued to count. “Nine, ten. I hope you didn’t take a room at the top.”
“No, my dear. I know your fear of heights, so I took a third floor room with an awning under our window. It’s high enough to see the lake, but with the awning below our window, you’ll think it’s the ground floor.”
“I won’t look out the window.”
“You’ll have better things to do,” Will whispered into her ear.
Bernie insisted on carrying both suitcases to their room. “I want this to be a special time for you, all pleasure and no work. I hope someday Shirley and I can take a second honeymoon like this. Our first one was in Ashley Springs at the Walker Hotel.”
“Well, our first night together was at the Walker, too,” Mary said. “Remember, you picked us up there.” She blushed as she turned to Will.
Will’s face warmed, but he didn’t say a word because Bernie, a lascivious smirk on his face, caught his eye.
Mary raced ahead with Will at her heels, while Bernie struggled with the two heavy suitcases.
Two clerks talked behind the desk, and a bellhop stood straight as a plumb-bob in front of the counter, his arms folded across his chest. The boy’s eyes followed Bernie as he trudged forward with the heavy suitcases.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Thanks, my man, but I gotta earn my pay.”
Not a muscle twitched as the bellhop snidely warned, “The lift’s being repaired. You’ll earn it, all right.”
Will scanned the local business directory while the clerk sorted through the reservation lists. “O’Shaughnessy?”
“Yes. Will.”
He pulled a paper from the pile. “Room 348. The lift’s down for an hour. If you leave your bags, I’ll have the bellhop bring them up.”
“I’ll bring them, Will,” Bernie called ahead to them.
The clerk pointed down a long hall. “Three flights up and to the right.”
Mary ran ahead. “I can’t wait to see our room!”
Will heard Bernie struggling on the stairs below and was about to turn back when Mary called. He hesitated, dug the key from his pocket, and then hurried in her direction.
Will fumbled with the key while Mary looked over his shoulder, but before he opened the door, he said, “Close your eyes and don’t look until I say.”
Mary placed her hands over her eyes as Will gently lifted her, nudged the door open with his foot, and stepped into the room. It was much larger than the one at the Baldwin, with furniture that stole Will’s breath.
“Can I look now?” Mary said.
Will set her down, and they scanned the room together.
“It’s not Queen Victoria’s furniture,” Mary said.
“Nor Queen Anne’s either. Looks more like a bordello,” Will said.
“Will! How would you know?”
Mary walked from one furniture piece to another, caressing the marble and hand-rubbed wood finish. Beside the three-door armoire with its adjustable shelves there was an amboyna burl bed, a bed larger than Will had ever seen; two night stands with beige, thick Italian marble tops; a matching amboyna writing desk; and a black, lacquered vanity with a beveled swivel mirror set in polished chrome.
On the far side of the room a rich brown leather sofa and two chairs looked inviting, so Will plopped down while Mary moved toward the bed, its blue chenille spread turned down to reveal mauve sheets and matching pillows.
Will heard the heavy breathing before Bernie turned the corner and dropped the suitcases inside the doorway. “I thought I’d never get up those steps. Should’ve paid the bellboy.” He pulled a hanky from his hip pocket and wiped perspiration from his brow, and then flopped into a wingback chair in the corner. “I suppose you’d like me outa here.” His smirk dissolved into gasps for air. “Do you need anything else?”
“Just place the suitcases by the bed.” But when Bernie struggled to get off the chair, Will took pity. “I’ll get them.” He grabbed the two suitcases and, with little effort, hoisted them onto the racks. “That’s what clerking does to you, son. You could use some exercise.”
“I shoulda waited for the lift to git fixed.” Bernie eased off the chair and stumbled toward the door. “I’ll be here Thursday early. I’ll need to get back for work at one o’clock.”
Before Bernie turned down the hallway, Will called, “Bernie, I think you’re wrong about David Tate. I think your father’s blinded by the color green.”
Will closed the door, walked across the room, and sat by Mary on the bed. “Bernie thinks David’s hornswoggled Tommy, but he’s wrong. He’s right to be worried though. Tommy’s leveraged to the hilt.”
“Will, you worry too much.”
“I don’t want to think about Tommy or the markets. I just want to enjoy our time alone.”
“Just you and me, all alone tonight.”
Will pulled Mary close. He inhaled. The scent of almond, her favorite cologne, filled his head and weakened his knees. He clung to his wife and felt tipsy, like that day he’d stayed too long at Bennie’s. He was so ready for this evening together. No stocks, cars, or children — just the two of them. But he couldn’t help but think ahead a bit. It was the next night that worried him.
Mary opened her suitcase while Will looked out the window. “I can see Lake Mendota. It’s as calm as the water in my horse tank. Let’s take a walk before the sun sets.”
Mary sorted through her clothing.
“Glad you’re unpacking now,” Will said. “We may be busy later.”
Will led Mary, hand in hand, to the business directory. “Let’s see if there’s a place we want to visit.”
But Mary’s attention was elsewhere. She scanned a giant poster with the title “Now Playing at the Orpheum.” “Look, that talking movie’s in town, The Jazz Singer with Al Jolson. There’re no subscripts.”
“I hear the Orpheum’s a beautiful building. It’s just a couple blocks down State.” Will thumbed through the fliers. “What else would you like? There’s Brown’s Book Shop, Kessenich’s Gift Shop, the Rosemary Beauty Shop, Ward Brodt Music, Lawrence Restaurant. I’ve heard their food’s good. They’re all within six blocks.”
“I’m not up for a long walk tonight. Maybe tomorrow when we’re fresh.”
“I wouldn’t want to tire you out. Not tonight.” He sidled over to Mary and put his arm around her waist.
She pecked his cheek. “No, we wouldn’t want to tire out now. Let’s stroll down to the Orpheum. I’d like to peek inside.”
“The Lawrence restaurant is just a few blocks farther. We can go there for supper.”
“It’s been a long day.” She grinned as she hugged his waist tightly. “Let’s eat in our room tonight.”
The Orpheum Theatre, which opened in 1927, wasn’t quite two years old. They had just turned the corner onto State Street when Mary spotted the sign two blocks ahead. “It’s lots higher than our third floor room.”
Will thought it’s probably not that high, but its flickering lights danced with the stars.
Mary tilted her head back as she followed the lettering upward. “It illuminates the whole block!”
The marquee did have more lights than Will had ever seen in one place before. From a block away, the words “The Jazz Singer with Al Jolson, America’s First Feature-Length Talking Film” dominated their horizon, and although the movie didn’t begin for another hour, the line of people trailed a block away from the box office.
“Popular as a hog trough at feeding time,” Will said.
“They’ve never heard actors talk before.” Mary was jostled by people who rushed to get in line. “Do you think they’d let us look into the foyer?”
When she stepped toward the entrance, the doorman said, “The ticket line ends down the block, ma’am.”
“Can’t we just look in?”
He opened the twin glass doors and beckoned her forward. “You don’t want to miss this one. It’s the movie of the century. Never been one like it.”
Will almost stumbled over Mary when, just inside the foyer, she stopped short. “Will,” Mary raised her hands to her face and scrutinized the interior, “have you ever seen anything so grand?”
A giant glass chandelier, matched by four-tiered sidelights, illuminated the room like sunshine at midday. Matching staircases commanded the room’s sidelines, each covered with rich, royal blue carpet imprinted with golden eagles, a reflection of the décor which looked down from the ceiling. A long brass railing separated two wide aisles that ended with doormen guarding two sets of closed mahogany double doors. Will imagined the bedlam when the doors opened and the crowd rushed down those aisles to the more than a thousand seats which waited inside the mahogany doors. He supposed the doormen earned their paychecks.
Mary wandered to the right stairway and caressed the shiny wood rail as she looked up the twenty stairs that led to the balcony. She looked around and inhaled.
Will, too, savored the freshness of new carpet, the smell of popcorn and sweet candy; then he closed his eyes and breathed deeply to fully appreciate the wonderful aromas.
“Oh, Will, it’s so grand. Can we come back for the movie?”
Will saw that the building’s splendor mesmerized his wife. “You’d like to see the inside, I suppose.”
“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
Will had plans for the next night as well. But he wasn’t certain that Mary would like those. The theatre might be the ticket to get her in a receptive mood, but he didn’t think that would be a problem tonight.
* * *
“Do you remember our first night together?” Will said.
Mary blushed as she nodded and slid across the sheet toward him. They caressed and exchanged love words that fueled Will’s passion and warmed his soul.
“I don’t know how you ever fell for an old hayseed like me, but I’m sure glad you did. It was the luckiest day of my life. I’ve never been happier, and I’ll love you forever,” he said as he slid his fingers across her soft skin and stroked her upper back and neck.
Mary arched her back and wiggled her shoulders.
“It feels wonderful,” she said.
“You’re incredible,” Will said as he pulled Mary close. He shivered with excitement, and, as the evening progressed, he found, once again, just how amazing his beloved wife could be.
* * *
Will wasn’t sure how Mary would respond to his plan, so he was uneasy. She was a dyed-in-the-wool Methodist.
Mary pulled her new dress from the armoire and held it before her.
It was stunning, Will thought. A black silk crepe dress with georgette ruffles, the torso covered with large gray stars filled with iridescent, cobalt beads. He stepped back and admired his lovely wife. “My dear, it’s a gorgeous dress. Perfect for the most beautiful lady I know. Only a prince could deserve one so lovely. I pinch myself every morning to make sure I’m not dreaming, that I’ve not turned into a frog.”
“Git on wit you, my bold prince. You and your Irish blarney.” She slapped Will’s arm as he reached in her direction.
“Now is that any way to be treating royalty?” Will undid his checkered necktie and realigned the ends. “We’re a long way from home, my dear. When in Rome.” He wrapped the long end twice and fished it through the loop. He held it out. “Why can’t I ever get this right?”
“Here, let me help.” She nudged him toward the mirror. “Stand where I can see.”
Mary stood behind, undid Will’s mistake, wrapped twice, threaded the long end through the loop, and pulled it snug under his chin. “That’s not so hard, is it?”
Will looked down at the perfectly aligned ends. “You don’t teach that in school, now do you?”
“You’d be surprised how many I’ve tied before school events.” She finished dressing and snatched her new cloth hat and a jacket from the armoire’s top shelf. “We better get going. I don’t want to stand outside too long.”
Will knew that this first part would be easy. He hoped it would electrify Mary so that she’d be receptive for the main event.
They hurried the two blocks to the Orpheum, but the line wasn’t as long as the night before. “Probably not so many come to the early show,” Will said.
“It’s been here two weeks,” Mary said. “Maybe everyone’s seen it already.”
Will noticed a restaurant scene on the outside billboard and stepped between Mary and the picture. He wasn’t ready to discuss their night’s meal, but he was too slow.
“I’m getting hungry. We should have eaten first. We usually do.”
“The place isn’t open.”
“I thought we were going to the Lawrence Restaurant.”
“Not tonight. This place is special. Rocco Galli, the chef at Walker House, told me it serves the best steak in Madison.”
“I don’t like steak. You know that.”
“He says their chicken cacciatore is scrumptious, too.”
Will was thankful when the man behind pointed ahead and said, “Step up lady. Don’t lose your spot.”
And the ticket agent said, “How many, please?”
* * *
At first Will and Mary couldn’t get to the aisle. The crowd stood at their seats and clapped, whistled, and cheered. “Jolson, Jolson,” rang through the theatre. After they pushed their way out, they were continually jostled as they made their way up the walkway. “I wouldn’t have believed,” Will said.
“What?” Mary leaned toward him.
“Movies will never be the same.”
Mary slammed into Will when she was pushed from behind.
Will spun around to face her assailant, but Mary grabbed his arm. “Let’s get outside.”
“That was bedlam,” he said. “They acted like animals.”
“They lost their heads in the excitement,” Mary said.
“I thought they were going to attack the screen when Jolson said, ‘Wait a minute, you ain’t heard nothing yet.’ Did you like it?”
“I kinda liked Jolson. His voice brings tears. But it’s not my favorite music.”
Will knew that Mary’s favorite music came straight from the Methodist Hymnal.
Mary clutched Will’s arm as they walked down the street. “I couldn’t understand all the words. Could you?”
“It’s like any new technology, I suppose. It’ll get better.”
“Where’s this restaurant you say is so good?”
“Just down the street. In the next block.”
“What’s its name?”
“Rocco called it Al’s Place.”
“Al’s Place?” Mary slowed, grabbed Will’s arm, and spun him toward her. “It’s because of the movie. It’s named after Al Jolson.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ve read he has businesses all over.”
“Not this one.”
“Then what is it? Tell me.”
“It’s a… you know, one of those places you read about.” He dug his fists into his topcoat pockets. “A speakeasy.”
“She spun to face him. “One of those illegal places? You know I’m against liquor. How could you, Will?”
“Now, Mary, it’s not that bad.”
“Don’t you placate me.”
Will took her hands in his. “Rocco says it’s a high class establishment. Only the best people are allowed in. And you don’t have to imbibe.”
“What would the ladies at the Church say if they knew?”
“I doubt we’ll see those ladies, my dear. And I’ve always wanted to see inside a city speakeasy. I’ve read so much about them. You’d rather I took you with than go alone, wouldn’t you?”
Mary turned back, but slowly. “I suppose.” She frowned “But don’t you tell everyone at Bennie’s. I’ll skin you alive.”
At the end of the block, Will reached for the handle of a door that looked like it might lead to an apartment above. “Rocco said it’s over Kessenich’s dry goods store. The door at the end,” he said. “This must be it.”
They ascended a narrow stairway, opened another nondescript door, and stepped into a short hallway which ended with split wall-to-ceiling mirrors separated by a plain oak panel. “Rocco said to go to the mirrors and knock three times on the wood panel, but no more.”
Will knocked and waited.
“This is weird,” Mary said.
After a minute, a mirror slid back and a portly, pockmarked man stared down on them. “Yes?” he said.
Will knew the password. “Valentine’s Day surprise,” he said.
The big man stepped aside, but before Will and Mary entered, he demanded, “That’ll be twenty dollars.”
Will dug for his billfold.
“Twenty dollars for two meals?” Mary glared at the man. “That’s outrageous. Why, it’s more than I spend in a month.”
The man shrugged and turned to Will. “Twenty dollars, sir,” he said. Will pushed two sawbucks forward.
A dance floor occupied the room’s interior, and at the far end was a stage where a piano, a bass, and a row of music stands promised entertainment. Linen tablecloths set with fine Richard Ginori china and spotless sterling silver adorned each table. Gaudy murals decorated the walls.
A woman took the table next to them. Her hair was bobbed, and her bright red lips matched the color of her heavily rouged cheeks. She wore a feather in a beaded headband. When she sat, her straight, loose dress slipped above her knees. Layers of beads hung from her neck over a silk blouse and flattened breasts. Smoke curled from a cigarette that dipped off a long silver holder. And while Mary stared, her mouth agape, the woman hiked her skirt and lifted a flask from under the garter, which anchored her silk stocking.
Mary turned to Will, her jaw still unhinged. She looked back toward the young woman who didn’t bat an eye in her direction, blinked, shook her head as if to void the horrible image, and then, speechless, she turned to Will once more.
He couldn’t help but smile. “You’re not surprised, are you?”
“The floozy. She probably rides a bicycle.”
“You supported suffrage.”
“Not this, for heavens sake. You wanted women to vote, too, Will.”
“You’ve gotta be careful, you know. Might get what you ask for.” He forced a wicked smile. “See what happens when you open the floodgates.”
Mary harrumphed and nodded toward the seedy girl. “Seems the equality she got is the tawdry kind.”
Smoke wafted across their table, and Mary fanned the air with her silk napkin. “This is a different beast than the suffrage I supported.” She coughed. “Do you think we could move to another table?”
“How havoc rains down when the oppressed are unchained.”
Will motioned to the maitre d’ who, upon seeing him, rushed to their table. “May I get you a setup, sir?”
“What?” Mary said.
“No liquor served here, ma’am, but the setup’s included in your fee.”
“No,” Will said. “But can we get away from this smoke?”
“Certainly, sir.” He pointed across the room. “There’s lots of empty tables, but I’m afraid none will be smoke free before the evening’s over.”
He led them away from the haze, and only then did their neighbor acknowledge their presence: As they rose from the table, she sneered and flicked ashes at their feet.
“If she were a student of mine,” Mary said, “I’d rap her knuckles.”
Will savored his porterhouse while Mary nibbled at her chicken. The room filled with people before they were half finished, and Mary continued to be bothered by the smoke that floated around them. “I never realized how oppressive cigarette smoke could be.”
“You’ve not spent much time in barrooms.”
“Well!” Mary snorted. “I don’t need smoke for an excuse to shun those places. But it can’t be good for you. At least your pipe smells good.”
“It tastes better, too. You know what Tate says about a cigarette, don’t you?”
“I can think of lots of things to say, but none of it ladylike, I’m afraid. What does he say about cigarettes?”
“Another nail in your coffin. That’s one more reason I never took to the smoke sticks.”
The room filled with applause as a black man dressed in a tux, white shirt, and bowtie entered from behind the curtain and ran toward the piano. He stopped, doffed his straw fedora, and bowed repeatedly as he edged toward the instrument. He paused over the bench, lifted his coattails, and plopped onto the seat, then held his fingers over the keyboard as if he were uncertain what to play, turned to the diners who to a person had tabled their utensils and stared, anticipation on their faces. And when the cry “play Tootsie” echoed across the room, he launched a stirring rendition of “Toot, Toot, Tootsie.”
“It’s right from the movie!” Mary said. “This is Jolson’s place after all.”