Strings Attached

Seventeen



New York City

November 1950



I was in his arms, against the kitchen wall, every inch of me against him. Billy’s hands were on my hair, my face. His mouth was soft and yielding, hard and so warm. Searching, searching for everything I had to give. Like he wanted to get to the very core of me.

One kiss had led to another and another and we couldn’t stop. It had been too long without each other. The kettle screamed and we ignored it. Finally, I broke away and turned off the burner and we walked, still kissing, to the living room, where we fell on the couch.

He was mine again, and he was leaving, going off to war. I’d never expected this; I had lived through a war and looked at other girls crying in train stations and bus stations and I’d only seen the romance of it, the luxury of so many tears. I hadn’t realized that inside all those girls was the terrible knowing that who they loved was going away and might not come back.

For a minute the former tenant flashed into my mind, Bridget Warwick, waiting in a quiet apartment, believing her husband would come back, and hearing the bell ring one day and a man with a telegram on the other side of the door.

“I just want to hold you,” he said. “I want to remember this.” He drew back and looked at my face. And then he yawned.

I laughed, and he laughed, too.

“Am I boring you?” I asked, and we both laughed again. Billy slid off the couch and leaned his head back against it.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so tired…. It was a long bus ride to get here.”

I patted the couch cushion. “Come on back up here.” We lay on the couch together, my head on his shoulder. He played with my hand. “This is nice.”

“Nice,” I agreed.

“It’s kind of like our dream, isn’t it?” he said.

“It is our dream,” I said, and the stab of guilt I felt made me feel queasy. It was a dream orchestrated by his father, the web that Billy had dropped into without knowing it was a baited trap.

I heard his breathing slow, and his hand slipped out of mine. Carefully, slowly, I drew back to look at him. His eyelashes on his cheek, his lips slightly parted, he looked peaceful and young.

He said he was changed. And I felt it, I felt the change. His kisses had been sweet and loving. He hadn’t pushed or pressed. Something was missing, and I could put my finger right on it. It was desperation.

All I felt was warmth and sweetness, and I fell back against his shoulder. He stirred and rested his head on top of mine. Then I thought of Nate, and I stiffened. Billy was here, and I should call his father. That had been our agreement. But how could I, with Billy right here? I couldn’t, not yet. I needed to hold this sweetness, my spoonful of honey. For just one more day.

I lay there stiffly now, afraid to move, afraid to wake him up, afraid to curl into him. Nate had come between us. What if Billy came to the club tonight, and his father was there? What if someone told him that Nate was there often, that Nate and I knew each other, that we’d spoken, that we’d even had a dance together? What would Billy say, how would he feel? Discovery felt so close now. I hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. I’d accepted a loan of a place to stay. Was that so wrong? I went over and over the decision. I was trying to protect Billy, that’s all.

Obviously, I hadn’t thought this through. Had Nate?

I looked at the clock. It was time to go, but I didn’t want to wake Billy. I slipped off the couch and hurried to dress. I put on my makeup, knowing that I wouldn’t get to the club on time. When I came back into the living room, Billy was sitting up, his face soft and sleepy. I wanted to hurl myself into his lap, but I just stopped and smiled.

“You look so… sophisticated,” he said. “Like a movie star.”

“Stage makeup. Look, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you go to Brooklyn, and come over tomorrow morning.”

He stood and stretched. “No, I’ll come with you to the club. I want to see the show.”

I hesitated. What if Nate was there? “Are you sure? You can catch it another night. There’s not much to see, anyway. I’m just another girl in the line.”

“You’re never just another girl.” He stood and tucked in his shirt. “Come on, get your coat. I don’t want you to be late. They might blame me.”

I slipped into my camel coat. We walked out together, arm in arm. Like a real married couple, so much in love they needed to touch, even if it was fabric against fabric. Sleeve against sleeve.



Monday nights were usually slow, but the club was crowded that night. I glimpsed Billy during the shows, sitting in a small table against the wall. He sat through two shows, and then signaled me at the start of the third that he’d be back.

We were all beat when we finally made it to the dressing room. We dragged ourselves into our clothes.

I figured Billy would be outside the front entrance, waiting. I would be like the other girls, sweeping out to see my beau. Suddenly, I remembered Hank. Would he show up tonight? I doubted it, after the scene at the rink. I would call him tomorrow, make sure things were okay with us.

I walked into the club. The lights were still low, and the waiters were trying to get the last stragglers out. I walked across the dance floor and saw a sudden shaft of light touch my sleeve. I turned back and saw Nate silhouetted in the doorway that led from backstage to the door of the private lounge.

My heart fell. I’d been on the lookout for him tonight, and had been relieved when I hadn’t seen him. I figured he was back in Providence.

He signaled to me, and I had no choice but to walk over.

“Mirto just went upstairs to the lounge,” he said. “Could you run up there and sit with him for a few minutes? Just chat him up. I have to —”

“No,” I said, and I could see he wasn’t happy I’d interrupted. “I can’t. I already changed, and I’m going home.”

I saw the flare of anger in his eyes. “What makes you think you get to say no?”

My breath caught. We were alone in the hallway. He had said the words so calmly, but I felt the menace, the threat.

“Don’t be a dumb kid and kick down a ladder,” he said. “Understand? I’m telling you, it’s just a few minutes, sit with a guy and make him happy.”

I was afraid to say no. I said it anyway. “No.”

His eyes narrowed, but before he could say anything we heard footsteps on the dance floor. We both turned our heads and saw Billy. When he saw who I was talking to he stopped walking.

“Billy.” Nate breathed his name almost like he was afraid.

Billy walked toward us, a slight, puzzled frown on his face. “Hey, Pop. What are you doing here? I thought some guy was trying to muscle in on my girl.”

Nate gave me a sharp look. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I just got in today. I didn’t know you went in for nightclubs.” Billy looked from me to his father. He was watchful, careful. I knew that look. He didn’t like to be surprised.

“I’ve seen your father here a couple of times,” I said.

“I have a client in New York now, so I come down pretty often,” Nate said casually. “It’s good to see you. You look well.”

“I’m all right.” Billy looked uncomfortable under Nate’s gaze. He wasn’t giving him anything.

“Would you kids like to get a late supper? I could take you to Reuben’s. We can sit, have something to eat, talk.”

“No, thanks,” Billy told him.

“Coffee, then.” Nate shot me a look that said, Help me out here.

“Billy, why don’t you go,” I said. “I’m completely dead. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Billy said to his father. It was like, now that he was wearing a uniform, he was able to say no, and Nate had to take it. “I was just going to walk Kit home, then head to Brooklyn to stay with my buddy.”

“Let me give you cab fare —”

“No, Pop!” Billy’s voice was sharp.

As he took my arm to lead me out, I saw Nate’s face, clenched and furious. I just didn’t know who he was mad at more.



Eighteen



New York City

November 1950



We walked out the front entrance. Billy held my hand, but his mind wasn’t on me. He was walking fast, and I had to double-time to keep up. We slipped through the stragglers at the entrance. Billy waved away a cab. His hand tightened on mine as we darted across Third Avenue. It wasn’t until we were on a quiet crosstown street that he spoke.

“What the hell is he doing here? I figured he was in Providence.”

“I’ve seen him a few times,” I admitted. “I think he likes to check up on me, make sure I’m okay.”

“I guess he thinks you’re still my girl,” Billy said. “I never told him we broke up.”

I held up our entwined hands. “See how that worked out?”

I was relieved that he smiled, but it faded right away. “I wasn’t ready to see him,” he said.

I squeezed his hand. “So, what did you think of the show?”

“I thought it was swell. And I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I was trying to figure if it was because you’re my girl or not. And I decided that it’s not. There’s always a girl everybody notices. You’re that girl.”

“That’s sweet,” I said. “But I’m sure you think that because I’m your girl.”

“No, I mean it,” Billy said earnestly. “I can really see it now, Kit. You’re in this big New York production, with the right costumes and the right dances, and you can really shine. You belong here. I’m really proud of you.” He stopped and put his hands on my shoulders so I could look into his face. “Really proud.”

He was being genuine, I could see it. His approval meant more than anybody’s. More than anything. I wanted to tell him about the callback right then, see the excitement in his eyes. But what if he slipped and told his father? Nate might tell the owner of the club.

Another secret to keep. Would I ever be able to get to the place where everything was open between us?

He tipped my chin up with his finger. “What is it? You looked so happy, and then so sad.”

“There’s so many things to say,” I said. “And there isn’t any time to say them. I’m afraid of what’s going to happen.”

He leaned over and kissed me. “I promise you. I’ll be back. The thing is — I started giving a damn again.”

I leaned into the kiss, and the world dropped away. We only stopped because someone harrumphed behind us, a man walking a dog.

“Carry on, soldier,” he said as he passed us.

We slowed our steps, letting the man and his spaniel get ahead of us. Someone was buying a newspaper and an orange at the place that stayed open all night. What people don’t know about New York is that someone is always awake. I hadn’t realized how comforting that was. You give up your home when you move to Manhattan, but you get something else — a feeling that you’re right smack in the world.

“I can see you here, making your way in Manhattan,” Billy said. “I just wish I could be here with you.”

“You will be.”

“Onstage, you look so beautiful, so… mature. Like a doll, like a beautiful living doll.”

“I’m not a doll. I’m just me. I’m just a dancer.”

“No, I mean, guys will be after you. You could fall in love with someone else. No, don’t look at me that way, I’m not being jealous. It’s just a fact. Men chase after girls like you, Kit, and now that you’re dancing in this big nightclub, you think it won’t happen?”

“It doesn’t matter if they chase if I don’t get caught. Anyway, I don’t want to do this forever. I want to go back to the theater.”

“It’s not easy, having a girl who’s a dancer. It’s not going to be easy when I’m halfway around the world. Because what you want to know is that your girl is the same as when you left her. Waiting.”

I stopped walking. “Are you asking me if I’ll wait for you? You know I will.”

“I’m asking you to marry me before I go.”

This time it was real. It wasn’t a dream for a hazy future. I wasn’t a schoolgirl, and the future was as real as the steel and stone surrounding us. I was conscious of how big the moment was, how easy it would be to say the wrong thing. Because squealing “Yes!” and jumping into his arms wasn’t something I could do. Everything between us had taken that option away.

“Or else I’ll just go,” he said. “Because it’s going to be worse for me, not knowing.”

“Is this a proposal or a threat?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light. This wasn’t the way I imagined Billy’s proposal would go.

“No, no, not a threat. It’s just that if I’m not sure of you, it will drive me crazy. I’ll be waiting for letters, I’ll be reading between every line….” He shook his head. “Maybe other guys can go off to war like that. I can’t. I want my future to start before I leave.”

The funny thing was, Nate had been right. Billy did need a dream.

He took my hands. “I know I’m not saying this right. I should have a big fat diamond ring to put on your finger. But we can do it right. We can go down to Maryland— you don’t need to wait for the license, and you can get married at seventeen. We can have a honeymoon.”

“Billy, I don’t know…”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.” The cold wind roared off the river, making my eyes tear.

“You said yes once before.”

“I did not.”

“Well.” His eyes twinkled. “You wanted to. I just didn’t let you.”

“That is not how I remember that conversation,” I said, smiling. I fell against him, my cheek against his chest.

“You’re shivering,” he said. “It’s so cold. Come on.”

We kept on walking, quickly now, his arm around me. We approached the building and stopped in front of my door. “Come in,” I said. “We can talk inside.”

He leaned back and looked up at the sky as if looking for something to help him. “There is nothing I want to do more than come inside.”

“Then come inside.” I slipped my arms around him.

He shook his head. “I think it’s a really bad idea.” Gently, he reached behind and took my hands. “Look. We have time. Not a lot, but enough. I’m going to go back to Brooklyn, and you’re going to go to bed. And tomorrow, we’ll talk. We’ll talk it all out. We can go over all the reasons getting married is a bad idea, if you want. We’ll walk and we’ll talk and we’ll figure it out together. But if I come inside tonight… we won’t talk, I guarantee you.”

“Are you sure? It’s an awfully long way to Brooklyn.” Now that he said he was going, I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want to say good-bye one more time than I had to.

“I’m sure.” He brushed his lips against my cheek. “Sure enough for both of us. Look, it’s four in the morning. Get some sleep. I’ll call you around eleven.”

Reluctantly, I left him and went inside. I closed the door and leaned against it. My mind whirled, and I could still feel the touch of his hands.

Married at seventeen? I had never wanted that. I’d seen too many girls go off in their white gowns and bouquets, some of them glowing, some of them miserable and pregnant. I’d seen them at twenty-two with two or three kids hanging on their skirts. I’d seen them disillusioned at thirty, not in love, not even satisfied, just trapped.

No, I had never wanted that.

But there was another way, wasn’t there? To marry your true love, and start your life? How easy it would make it to turn down dates if I had a gold ring on my finger. I could concentrate on dancing, on acting, and know I had Billy in a safe, protected place in my heart.

I walked slowly into the apartment, turning on the lights one by one, until the whole place blazed. This place could be mine, then. Really mine. I would be Mrs. Kathleen Benedict, living in the family apartment. I would have a right to be here. And here, I would sit at my own table and write letters to Billy. Another wife of a soldier sitting at the kitchen table. Come home, darling. I’m waiting for you. But the difference would be this: Our story would have a happy ending. He would come home.