Last Night at the Blue Angel (13 page)

I told Elizabeth she could come over tomorrow. To do homework
.

Sounds lovely. Good thing we cleaned up
,
huh?

Sometimes Mother talks to me like she talks to the crew. I start to leave.

What time?
she asks.

Nine
.

In the morning?

Is that okay?
I say, watching her face, watching all the details get sorted, all the potential problems get visited. I'm tempted to say never mind, but I don't. I want her to figure it out herself.

Of course
, she says,
why wouldn't it be?
She pulls a stocking over her foot and slides it on as she raises her leg.
We love company
,
you and me
. She snaps the elastic against her thigh. I leave the room.

Did she say yes?
asks Jim, waving me to the kitchen table.

I nod.

Sit down
,
I'll make you a snack
, he says. He puts a tub of oleo and the tin of saltines on the table and lights a cigarette. He mixes me some Ovaltine and pours himself a drink.

Did she say who's coming over?
he asks.

No
.

It's a new dress
.

He butters five saltines and puts them on a plate in front of me.

Mother hums in the bathroom.

Quit worrying
, says Jim.

This was a terrible idea
.

It's going to be fine. I'll be here a little before nine
.

I nod.

But you'll owe me
, he says.

Okay
, I say.

What are you scheming in here?
says Mother, appearing in the kitchen, looking around.

You lose something?
says Jim.

My cigarettes
, she says.

Jim shakes a cigarette out of his pack and holds it out for her.
Keep this up and pretty soon you'll sound just like Louis Armstrong
.

He's famous
,
isn't he?
she says, leaning over so Jim can give her a light. Then she spins around and sits down on his lap.
I feel so happy
.

When Mother is happy, I am happy. I don't even care if it has nothing to do with me. When it's just the three of us, everything is right.

Jim holds her around the waist and looks as though he's trying not to breathe.

Tomorrow will be fun
, she says to me.

Who's coming over?
I ask.

Your new friend! Elizabeth!

I mean tonight
, I say.

Jim looks at me and Mother looks at me. She tilts her head a little bit.
Just an old friend. Nobody you know
.

David?
I ask.

Mother concentrates very hard on putting out her cigarette, tamping and tamping until it breaks.

What's that?
she finally says, hopping off Jim's lap.

Jim shakes his head.

Mother kisses my cheek.
I have to finish putting my face on
.

Jim follows her into the bathroom.

I'm not going to discuss this with you
, she says.

We'll see about that
, says Jim.

Mother sponges on makeup like he's not standing there.

Jim stares at her.
You only want him because you can't have him
.

How dare you
, says Mother as best she can with her lips stretched over her teeth.

You can't resist a challenge
.

That is simply not true!
Mother says, trying to hold down her voice like it's a jack-in-the-box.

A
fter Jim leaves, Mother and I go out to pick up groceries and booze.

Sing with me
,
Sophia
, she says while we walk.

We sing a few bars of “Easter Parade” and a few bars of “I Found a Million Dollar Baby.”

You have a lovely voice
,
baby
,
you do
, she says.
It's like clean water
.

That's funny
, I say,
I always say your voice sounds like
warm
water
.

You do?
she says.
I never knew you thought that. Hunh
.

I'm a little out of breath trying to keep up with her.

Of course
,
don't think for a single minute I want you to be a singer
, she says.
It is not an easy life. Boy
,
if you knew—I'll tell you someday
,
I will
,
and I won't mince words
;
I will tell you everything
.

Her coat is open and the wind blows it behind her like a cape she doesn't know she has.

You should button your coat
.

Honestly
,
Sophia
, she continues,
I don't care what you do
,
as long as you have passion
.

She holds my hand with both of hers now.
But
,
if you want to know the truth
, she says.

I do
.

Passion will have you. Because you are just like me. Best to give in
,
sweetheart
,
let it take you where it will
.

A cluster of men passes us on the street. They all look at Mother but she ignores them.

I wish you didn't worry so much. We're going to be just fine
,
don't you think?

I nod.

I think things are turning around. I have a good feeling
, she says.
I need to tell you something
.

What?
I say.

I'm quite certain I'm going to become famous. I can feel it. It's like it's happening already but I'm just not aware of it
.

I try to imagine what this means but all I can see is even more people in love with Mother. Whole rooms of people looking at her, wanting her to notice them, and me disappearing in all the noise and bustle. Thinking about this makes me want to cry. I try to smile at her because she's so excited. About the future. But I can't. She's not really here any longer. She's walking down the street like it's standing in for another street. A future street full of people who can love her better than I.

Then the wind rises and whips at us. Mother tries to gather her hair, which blows around her head, and as she does, she finds a hairpin tangled in the back.

Oh, dear. Help me get this out
, she says.
Guess I was in a hurry
.

She squats in front of me and I use both hands but still, when I finally get it, a few hairs come with it.
It's okay
, she says.
It didn't hurt
.
Thank you
,
darling. What would I do without you?

I put the hairpin in my pocket.

W
e eat some dinner when we get home but I can tell that Mother is rushing, dialed to a higher setting.

I get out my homework and spread it on the coffee table.

Kitten
,
what are you doing?

Math
, I say.

What child does math on a Friday night?
She looks at her little wristwatch.
And besides
,
it's almost your bedtime
.

I'm not tired
, I tell her.

Let's look at your homework in your room
.
And get you changed into your pajamas
.

I ignore her and focus on my nines. I feel like if I could just memorize my nines, I'd be okay.

Mother makes a drink, stares at me, waiting for me to move to my room. Eventually she leaves.

I can hear her in her room. After a while the apartment gets very quiet and I feel like I'm alone. All she wants is for me to be out of the way. I start to not care if I'm here or not. I pick up my books, go into my room, and think about Elizabeth. Maybe this is why Jim wanted me to make friends. Having a friend makes me want Mother less.

Eventually she comes into my room.
How are your numbers coming?

Good
, I say.

Can I help you get ready for bed?

I'm not a child
.

You are
,
actually
.
Now put this on
. She hands me my nightgown.

I don't want to, so I move as slowly as possible. I sit down on the floor, pull my sock off, and study it.

Oh
,
for Christ's sake
,
you test your poor mother's nerves
.

I grab the nightgown from her.
I can dress myself!
I yell.

She takes a step backward.

I strip the rest of my clothes off, throwing everything this way and that. Then I pull my nightgown over my head and climb into bed.

Mother comes to the bed and tries to touch my hair but I flip over and face the wall, squeezing my eyes shut.

You'll feel better in the morning
,
darling. Everything's always better in the morning
.

Mother opens the door and stands there a moment.

I'm here
,
aren't I? We're together
, she says.

She shuts the door behind her. I open my eyes and look at the wall—playbills and flyers, photos of Mother, a few little newspaper clippings. Mother, Mother, Mother. I get on my knees and carefully peel off a page, then another and another until I'm just tearing it all down, not even caring that some of the pages rip as I do.

I listen to Mother in the main room, the clink of her glass on the liquor cart. I hear her cross the room—maybe to look out the window. She crosses the room again. She hums for a few seconds then stops. Crosses the room again. It makes me sleepy, the sound of her heels gently batting the floor like a heartbeat that stops, that can't keep going, that starts up again.

Something wakes me. I sit up and see all my memorabilia on the bed. I wonder if he's here. I sneak out my door and tiptoe down the hall. I hear something ticking. Mother is on the davenport. Her stockings and shoes are on the floor. On the record player the needle has come to the middle and is bumping against the last black ridge.

I walk in.

Oh, kitten
,
did I wake you? Come here. Come sit with me
. She reaches with her arms and wiggles her fingers.

I get as close to her as I can and put my arms around her waist.

It's so late
, she says.

Her body pulls a little so she can reach her drink and take a sip.
I'm sorry we fought
.

I don't say anything.

Sometimes I think we're just girlfriends. I forget you're a kid. You're so grown up. More than me
,
I think
.

I listen to the needle for a long time until I finally get up and return the arm to its little fork.

Oh, no
,
let's have a listen
, she says.

The album is called
Bird and Diz
. It's the one she always listens to when she's sad.

Thank you
,
kitten
, she says, closing her eyes to the sound of the horns.
It's so beautiful
,
isn't it? And light?

I start to pick up her stockings.

I used to be innocent
, she says.

She raises her arm and waves me to her.
Leave that. Come back
.

I sit next to her again.

Do you remember the old place? With Sister and Rita?

Yes
, I say.

We made a cradle for you out of an orange crate. We were so poor
.
Rita pulled the fringe off an old flapper number and put it around your crate
.

I turn her bracelets around her wrist.

We had so much fun
.
Hilda made all your little dresses with the matching bloomers
.

And the candles
, I say, uncertain if I actually remember them or have absorbed the stories.

Oh
,
when the lights got shut off. Rita had a million candles
,
didn't she? And we sang. We sang to you and danced with you. You were a wonderful baby
, she says.

The phone rings and Mother jumps, running over to it as fast as she can in the tight dress.

But once she gets there, she just stares at the phone, watching it ring.

Aren't you going to answer?

She picks up the receiver.
Hill residence
.

I watch her back. She takes a deep breath.

Oh
,
I didn't wait. I just got in
,
actually
, she says. She listens a long time, her head tilted like it's heavy.

Let's just nip this in the bud
,
darling
, she says.
I mean
,
how many times do we have to fail at his
,
huh? I love you. I'm saying good-bye now
. She sets the receiver down very carefully, then just stands there staring at it, one hand leaning slightly on the table, the other hand resting on top of the glass paperweight. And somehow, though she's not moving at all, it seems like there's a storm brewing inside her, like something is winding up tight. All of a sudden she lifts the glass paperweight and hurls it against the wall as hard as she can. I cover my head. She hits her fist into the wall several times and begins to cry.
Fuck you
, she is saying, over and over.

I feel I should stop her but don't know how. This one is new. Jim would know but he's not here. I think and think about what I can say or do that might help her, bring her back, but I know there's nothing to do but wait. Whatever could help Mother isn't inside of me. It's someplace else. I don't even know where.

She stops hitting eventually and presses her forehead against the wall. When she turns around and sees me, I see that she's forgotten I'm in the room.

Don't be afraid
,
darling
, she says, bending over to collect her stockings and shoes.

I'm not
, I say.

She just stands there holding her things, her stockings hanging down like streamers after a party.

Let's get you back to bed
.

She climbs into bed with me and sings little made-up songs, her face close to my hair.
“The little sleep bug is on his way again
,
he's coming round the bend again. Just you wait and see. He's bringing sleep for you and me
.” When she thinks I'm asleep she whispers,
I hope you have it easier
,
kitten. I did everything the hard way
.