Did You Hear About Kitty Karr?

She followed Lucy into a dining room, where two plates of roasted chicken, carrots, green beans, and biscuits sat waiting on a table for eight. The food smelled better than Kitty’s cooking but not as good as her mother’s.

“Surprise! It isn’t much, but you should pat yourself on the back for getting that job.”

“I should be thanking you,” Kitty said.

“I only made the introduction. You’re the reason you’ll keep the job.” Lucy sat at the head of the table, and Kitty sat at her right, with her back to the room’s windows.

A reddish-skinned Negro woman entered with wine glasses.

“Eat with us.” Lucy pointed to the seat across from Kitty.

The maid didn’t reply but glanced at Kitty, then back at Lucy.

“It’s fine,” Lucy said, answering her silent question. “Kitty, this is my sister, Laurie.”

“Oh.” Kitty felt jarred. Their skin tones varied by twenty-five degrees, but if you really studied them—aside from Lucy’s nose, which was wider—they looked alike. “Hello, Laurie.”

Seeing her discomfort, both sisters laughed. Laurie’s beauty mark, a perfect cocoa-brown circle underneath her right eye, moved as her face scrunched.

“If my sister has to work for someone, it might as well be me, right?” Lucy said.

“Does your husband know?”

“No. God, no.”

Laurie left the room and returned with a plate. She sat next to Kitty. “And you’re Emma Karr’s sister, is that right?”

“Not by blood, but yes. Please, don’t hold it against me.”

Laurie looked at Lucy. “She’s funny.”

“I told you.”

“Is it just the two of you?” Kitty asked.

“Yes. Laurie’s eleven months older. We did everything together, until we couldn’t, of course. She’s always taken care of me—I was oily, red-faced, and fat as a kid. Got picked on all the time.” Kitty couldn’t imagine it. Even in her trousers and button-up, Lucy looked thin-boned: her thighs were the same circumference all the way up, and her arms were like twigs; Kitty imagined her midsection showed the outline of her ribs.

She took a longer sip of wine, nervous to ask the question on her mind. “Do you have other maids?”

“Just one other.”

“My mother’s a maid,” Kitty said.

“Our father was a janitor,” Lucy said. She stared at her. “Does it bother you that I have maids?”

“I’ll never have one.”

“But does it bother you?” Lucy pressed.

“It makes me think of her. I do better when I don’t think about the past.”

“Don’t we all.” Laurie pushed out her chair. “I have calls for Maude.”

Lucy waved. “See you tomorrow.”

Laurie waved at Kitty as she exited. “Nice to meet you.” She was gone before Kitty could reply.

“She’s always in a rush.” Lucy twirled her fork in one hand like a baton and continued eating.

“What’s it like having your sister working for you?”

“Like putting on a perpetual play, but I have to take care of her. This way I can see to it that she’s paid a proper wage, isn’t abused. I’m protecting her; God gave me a gift to do that.”

“So you’ll take the truth to your grave?”

“Yes.”

“Does your other maid know you’re passing?”

“No; too risky.”

“Do you ever feel bad for lying?”

Lucy was happy to answer all of her questions. “No. My emotions are real. I love my husband. And what does it matter, really, me lying about being Colored? Who am I hurting? Stupid rules are made to be broken.”

Kitty agreed. “I feel nothing, most often.”

“That’s because you had permission.”

“What did you tell your husband about your family? Didn’t he want to meet them?”

“Not after I told him that my mother is dead, and my father—who knows?—probably drank himself to death by now. He just assumed everyone was White.”

“What if he finds out?”

“He won’t.”

“But if?”

Lucy shrugged. “I tell myself he’s too committed to care. I’ve been a good wife, so unless he’s just a bigot—which after careful observation over the last six years, I know he’s not—he’ll get over it. Maybe even understand.” Lucy sliced a piece of chicken, commenting on how juicy it was.

It was good, Kitty thought, finally taking her first bite. The sauce was orange flavored, with just the right tinge of sweetness.

“How are you and Nathan getting along?” Lucy asked.

“Great. He’s brilliant.” Kitty felt herself blush.

“You know he’s sweet on you.”

“We work well together.”

“It’s only a matter of time before he smashes those lips onto yours.”

“He does have nice lips.”

“Ooooh, look at you, Kitty Karr. Falling in love with our boss.”

“I barely know him.”

“When is he going to green-light The Misfits?”

“He wants to focus on other projects.”

“But we were a month into filming! The set is built; we have costumes and footage.”

“He said the script is bad.”

“It can be rewritten. Tell him Cora will quit if he doesn’t resume production.”

“Won’t it ring truer if she tells him?”

“She doesn’t really want to quit. You’re our greatest chance of getting him to change his mind. You said it yourself—he asks your opinion on everything.”

Aware of Lucy’s manipulation, Kitty was nonetheless up for the challenge, seeing it might bring her closer to Nathan. “Why didn’t you tell me about Cora?”

“About what?”

Kitty lowered her voice. “That she’s Negro.”

“It’s not my business to tell.”

“Does she set women up with men?”

“Yes, but not for pay, if that’s your insinuation. Never for pay.”

“Then for what?”

“Because it’s smart. If you had a wealthy father, he would have promised you to someone suitable. Cora does the same thing. We have to look out for each other. We all could have stayed Negro to be poor.”

Hearing another echo of Emma’s philosophy, Kitty knew Emma had spent more time with Lucy and her friends than she admitted. But it was the first time that Kitty subscribed to the idea. Her newfound proximity to Nathan’s wealth and power allowed her to imagine what it would be like should some of it rub off on her.

“Maybe I’ll introduce you one day.”

“To whom?”

“My friends,” Lucy said.

Kitty didn’t know what to say.

“She doesn’t want you to associate with us, does she?”

“She told me to be careful.”

“That’s everyone’s hope, but it isn’t living. Do you feel unsafe with me?”

“No.”

“Then you should meet them, make your own decisions. You didn’t choose this life to then go and live someone else’s.”

“I didn’t really choose it at all.”

“You’re still here, aren’t you? That’s a choice.”





CHAPTER 21

Kitty




“Done. I want Cora off the payroll.” Nathan dumped a layer of roast beef from his sandwich onto a spare napkin. “I was hoping that if I delayed production long enough, she’d quit, and everyone would just forget about that damned film. The script is shit. And so is she for what she’s done to my family.”

“But she’s our biggest star, and it’s our only slated feature.” Kitty, she saw, had been tricked into an impossible situation, oblivious until now to how Nathan felt about his father’s affair with Cora. “The media is expecting it. We can’t afford bad press.”

“I don’t give a goddamn.”

“Everything is ready to go. We can rewrite the script.” Kitty used every angle Lucy had given her.

“I want her out of here.”

“Why?” Kitty played dumb. “I thought all of her pictures have done well.”

“It’s no secret. She’s my father’s mistress—or was; he’s not much good to anyone these days. First his mind went, and now his body is ridden with some disease the doctors can’t diagnose.” He poured drinks for them, ranting. “My father’s always had an affinity for actresses, but Cora’s had quite a hold on him. She came from nowhere. He bought her a house bigger than ours, while yelling at my mom about her spending habits. Of course, now that he’s sick, it’s my mother by his side.”

Crystal Smith Paul's books