Ladies In The Parlor (18 page)

The governor bowed politely.

Hours passed. There was dancing and music. The governor made an address. Men and women gathered about the governor and Slattery when it came time to go.

Judge Slattery’s car waited at the main entrance. With the governor and the great criminal lawyer, the famous actor and others, Leora was taken to his home.

The men treated her with the utmost consideration.

After they had been at his home for an hour or more, the judge said to her, “I think you had better retire, Leora.”

It was the first time he had spoken her name.

A maid appeared and escorted her to an elegantly furnished room.

She awoke late.

The judge joined her at breakfast.

“I leave for New York at once,” he said. “I’ll take you home on the way to the station.”

“Did you have a nice time?” he asked, as the car went toward Mother Rosenbloom’s.

“Oh, so nice,” she said impulsively, putting a delicately gloved hand on his forearm.

“That’s good. I thought you would enjoy it. The governor and I were hungry boys together.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.” Leora leaned toward him— “It meant so much to me.”

“Don’t,” he said, “it’s all right,—I’ll be back in a week— Mother will talk to you.”

He rang the bell for her.

“Good-bye— In a week,” he said.

In another moment he was in the limousine.

Mother Rosenbloom was having her coffee and reading the newspapers when Leora entered.

She asked with the same solicitude as Judge Slattery, “Did you have a nice time?”

“So nice,” Leora answered. “He’s grand.”

“The judge talked to me last night,” Mother Rosenbloom confided, motioning Leora to sit on her bed. “He wants you to stay on here with me—I’ll have the bookkeeper figure what you’ve earned the past month—you’ll be paid your half of that—and see no other men.”

Mother studied a report.

“I’ll go fifty-fifty with you on liquor—that should get you another hundred a week anyhow—will that please you?”

“Yes, Mother,” answered Leora. “I never want to see another man.”

“That’s good—the judge will take care of everything.” Smiling, she added, “He said a nice thing about you over the telephone.”

“What, Mother?”

“That you weren’t silly—and so respectful.” “Who wouldn’t be, Mother?”

Mother did not answer the question. Instead, she turned her newspaper to the society page and looked at the pictures of several society women in riding costumes.

“They’re bigger whores than us,” she growled, turning the page hastily.

Looking at Leora, she said, “Now, dear—you can explain to the girls—they’ll understand.”

Before Leora reached the door, Mother added, “You’re much better off—the patent on men won’t wear out—or on women either—it’s grand to think he likes you—but I knew he would the minute you came into the house—I’ll explain it to you some day—maybe.”

Events came rapidly for Leora. On the third night she received a long distance telephone call. After Slattery had talked to her he said, “Put Mother on the ‘phone.”

When Mother had finished, she smiled, “He wants us to wire him at the Willard in Washington. He’s still a lonesome little boy—did he tell you?” she asked.

Leora, still agitated over the long distance call, nodded, “Yes.”

“Now send him a nice telegram,” said Mother. “You won’t have to lie—you do miss him—
I know
.”

Leora spent some time in wording the telegram. The gruff matchmaker looked at it and asked, “Where’s the one you wrote first?”

Mother looked it over. “It’s the best—I knew it would be. Anything from the heart is never studied.” She rang for Mary Ellen.

“You’re more patient than me, Mary Ellen—and Leora might get too excited. Telephone these telegrams for us.

Mary Ellen picked up Mother’s receiver and with clear articulation read the messages. When she came to the end of Leora’s she pronounced the words, “All my love,” as though her own heart were in them. They sounded strange to Leora. She had never written such words to anyone but Sally and her aunt before.

More men selected Leora in the next few days than ever before.

“They’re like dogs,” Mother said grimly, “they know.”

The women in the house, from Mother Rosenbloom to the cook, treated Leora with new deference. Whether due to Mother’s training or the innate largeness of spirit in Selma, Mary Ellen, and Doris, they exhibited a kindly envy without jealousy.

“It’s nice of him not wanting her with other men,” observed Selma.

“Tut, tut,” —said Mother, “it’s not nice at all—he’s a man—and he doesn’t want to share.”

“Maybe he thinks it’ll turn into a maidenhead again,” said Doris.

“Where did you learn that—in the reform school?” Mother asked.

When the judge returned, Mother sent Leora to meet him several times in different sections of the city. It was generally at a public function or dinner. Treated with respect, she would be returned to Mother Rosenbloom after a light caress.

At times Slattery would talk to her, but always in short sentences.

When she had said, “Governor Harris has such sad eyes, hasn’t he?” Slattery replied,

“Yes,—they come from indigestion.”

“Why is Mother so fond of you?” Leora asked him. “She’s getting old,” he said.

“But she’s still very smart,” was Leora’s retort. “That’s why she likes me,” returned Slattery. Another month passed when word came to Mother from Slattery to have Leora find an apartment. Alice could help her.

Leora cried for joy as Mother told her. She hurried to telephone Alice.

“Now remember—nothing garish—you’ve seen his house,” Mother warned.

For several days the girls looked at apartments until they located one on a top floor. The windows of the living-room overlooked the lake. While Alice bargained, Leora watched the vast white and blue body of water and saw a ship, far out, going, she wondered where.

“Would you like this one, Leora?” Alice asked.

“I’d love it—I could spend hours at this window.” “Then we’ll take it,” said the business-like Alice. On their way to Mother Rosenbloom’s, Alice said to her cousin, “Now if the judge disappears for a few days, it’ll be because he’s drinking. He snaps out of it in three days—and Mr. Everlan told me it came over him about every month—but he’s always kind.—I’ve seen him that way—”

“I don’t care what he does,” Leora assured Alice, “I love him.”

“How changed you are,” observed Alice.

The professor brought a letter from Farway. He asked Leora to return and marry him.

She started to write to him at once—to tell him that she loved another man. Then she hesitated. Instead, she talked it over with Alice.

“Tell him you want time to consider,” was her advice. For the next week Leora was like a bride, selecting, with Alice, the furniture for the apartment.

When all was ready in the new home, the desire for drink came over Slattery.

Accompanied by Alice and Mr. Everlan, he came to Mother Rosenbloom’s in a heavy rainstorm.

The door banged open after they entered the parlor. A gust of wind swept in. Raindrops rattled loudly against the window panes.

“What a night,” exclaimed Mother Rosenbloom, “it would drown a duck.”

The rattle of the rain and the crash of thunder dimmed the professor’s music.

Though sex was still for sale, there were no buyers on such a night.

Leora came into the parlor with Selma and ran to Slattery’s arms. Mary Ellen and Doris followed.

Several hours of merrymaking passed. Mother Rosenbloom accompanied the professor at the piano.

The rain could be heard splashing during the intervals of merriment.

During a silence Alice looked at her wrist-watch and said to Mother Rosenbloom, “We must be going soon.”

“What,” exclaimed Mother, “on such a night—you’ll need a boat.”

The judge looked at Mr. Everlan, “No, old pal, you’re not going—and leave me alone here with all these women—why I would never forgive you.”

Mr. Everlan hesitated.

“Why dear me, no,” said Mother Rosenbloom. “Your driver is sound asleep. You would be drowned getting to the car.” Mother Rosenbloom looked sternly at Alice, “
You must stay
.”

“All right, Mother,” returned Alice obediently. “Pour us all a drink,” commanded the judge. “I’ll do it, Mother,” said Leora.

When another hour had passed, Mother Rosenbloom said, “Well, I think I’ll retire.” She looked at her guests. “Now please stay until morning and maybe the rain will let up—you and Mr. Everlan take the end room, Alice.”

The judge and Mr. Everlan rose.

A maid followed Mother Rosenbloom to her rooms. When all had gone, Leora held Slattery’s hand. “I think we had better go too,” she suggested.

“All right,” the judge said, rising, “We will have liquor sent to the room.”

Leora led him to her room.

A knock came at the door.

The maid placed liquor on a small serving table.

She placed an arm about him, kissed him quickly and said, “I’ll be so happy in the lovely apartment overlooking the lake—and I’ll love you so.”

His hand went along the curve of her body. She helped him to the bed.

“Now be a good boy and lie here just a moment while I put on a robe,” she said, placing her hands upon his shoulders and pressing him backward. “I’m not leaving you,” she soothed.

His head was on the pillow. She stroked his hair. He breathed deeply.

“Don’t leave me,” he said.

His hand bent her body to him.

She kissed his eyes.

“Get me some liquor, Leora,” he said.

She brought it to him at once.

“I’m sorry for this,” his voice was soft.

“You don’t need to be.”

“You mean that?” He emptied the glass.

“From the bottom of my heart,” was her reply. “Do you really like me?” he asked.

“I love you.”

“Do you tell them all that?”

“You’re the only one I’ve ever ,told that.” Her voice was full of candor.

“Well, it’s a good story.” He asked for more liquor.

“Yes, I knew you’d say that,” she bit her lip

“Now I want to be honest with you,” she said. He remained quiet while she told the story of her life. After she had finished telling of the two seductions, he said, “Well, the moon’s as far from both of us—I didn’t expect to find you a virgin, and neither did I expect this.”

“But it’s my nature,” Leora explained, “I’ve got to play square when I love.”

“Oh well,” he smiled, “don’t worry about a few seductions—I’d rather have had you first, but I can’t be everywhere at once—we can’t change things, even if we try until the stars fall.”

He asked for more liquor.

“I’ve wanted you so much,” went on Leora, “and when I have you alone here with me you’ve been drinking too much.”

“Not too much,” responded Slattery. “My head’s clear—I’ve wanted you before—but I don’t dare get too excited—” he stopped, “maybe it’s better to go out in a blaze.”

“You do need me, don’t you?” Leora huddled close to him— ”I’d like to be just your slave—I’d wait on you all the time—I’d give you everything I had—everything —Mother Rosenbloom once told me you could charm a bird out of a tree, even if a cat was waiting for it—won’t you let me be your bird?—Do say you need me—do say it—I'll be so happy.”

He pulled her closer. “Yes, I do need you—very much—I’m a very lonely man—a very, very lonely man—“

His tone of voice changed.

“It’s funny how we need people,” he said, reaching for the glass. “Here I’m a horse, and I lean on a lovely fly like you—but it’s all in fun,” he sighed, with an effort at banter, and was calm a moment before he resumed, “Just stand by me, dearie—just you and me.

“They can’t make a law in this state without me, dear. I put them in and I take them out—and believe me—I know what it’s all about. I made Jack Harris governor just like that.” Leora heard his fingers snap. “And I’ll tell you why—he was good to me when I was a kid… He was a Jew boy, and the Jews and the Micks have always been pals. My mother gave me twenty cents, and Harris and I were going to the bootjacks to get our papers. We stopped in an alley to shoot craps with two Niggers and a Wop kid, and I won eighty cents and the two Nigger kids beat me up and took the eighty cents and my twenty cents besides. Well, Harris and the Wop kid began to battle, and they knocked the Niggers out, and got my dollar back, and they didn’t take a nickel that belonged to the Nigger kids—’Thanks,’ I said, ‘Jackie,’ and he said, ‘Don’t thank me, you little Mick—let’s go and get our papers or your ma and mine’ll knock the living hell out of us’—and so we all three went and got our papers— That’s been thirty-four years ago.

“By the time I was twenty-three I owned a saloon—and had my hands on a dozen houses like this. My pal, Harris, the Jew boy, went in for books and studied law—I didn’t give a damn about books… it was people I liked. What the hell can any book tell me about people? I’m forty-eight years old and I run a state—and I can’t dig a girl like you out of a book.”

As a reward for the compliment, Leora pressed her lips against his mouth. He took the kiss with a sigh, and went on, “Harris is all the time spouting things to me, but when he wants anything done fast he comes to me.

It was me who made him state senator, then a congressman, and a governor. I tell him what to say to people to make them love him—for you’ve got to love people if you want them to love you back… you’ve got to be willing in your soul to share all you’ve got, if you steal it back the next minute. It’s give and take, around and around, like a drunken dollar whore on a merry-go-round—that’s what life is, and don’t never let them tell you any different

“Harris said to me after I put him in as governor, ‘You Irish always have a salamander in your heart—’ and I asked him what the hell a salamander was and he said—’a lizard the fire can’t burn,’—and I said, ‘Jack—that’s because we’re smart—no matter how hot we seem there’s a cold place in our heads and hearts.’ “ The judge laughed aloud. “‘Damn you,’ Jack said, ‘you’ve always got an answer.’—’Sure, Jack—don’t you know it—my answer to politics is you—where do you think I came from, Jack—I’ve got a noodle too—just because I don’t think with dead men’s thoughts out of books is no reason I’m not smart—I’m barroom smart, Jack, and that’s the smartest kind—you can’t lift your left eyelid without me knowing what you’re thinking’