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Another turn, as she swirls her red skirts s.e.xily and bats her fake eyelashes. "Poor little me. I'm all alone in the world."
As we nearly collide at the bar area, on purpose I might add, I try to poke her. Evvie ignores me as she manages crocodile tears for dear Philip. She lowers her voice, but I hear her anyway. ". . . six months to live, but oh, how I intend to enjoy them . . ."
Oh, Evvie, what are you doing? Our plan was to see which woman he picks so we can study his M.O.: it's not supposed to be you!
The waltz is over. Seymour says something to me, but I don't hear him. I can't stop staring at the magic couple. Philip is not leaving Evvie's side. She continues to talk and smile and flirt outrageously. He takes her by the arm and picks up another gla.s.s of champagne for her at the bar. She smiles endearingly up at him. He whispers something to her. She nods. They walk out onto the terrace. I swear, every woman's eyes still follow them. The emotions range from curiosity to prurient interest to downright jealousy. The die is cast. No doubt about it. Romeo has picked his Juliet.
I'm going to kill my sister when we get back upstairs.
TWENTY-ONE.
ON THE TERRACE.
We're Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, Evvie
thinks, as she looks around the terrace. The two of them dressed in glamorous evening wear, a two of them dressed in glamorous evening wear, a full glorious moon, and the weather, Florida's best, full glorious moon, and the weather, Florida's best, balmy and soft. The kind of night for falling in balmy and soft. The kind of night for falling in love. love.
"Don't move." Philip stands with his arms outstretched. "I want to remember you just the way you are. My lady in red." you are. My lady in red."
"I was just imagining Fred Astaire. That's the kind of beautiful thing he would say to Ginger." kind of beautiful thing he would say to Ginger."
"And rightly so. This is indeed a cinematic moment. Remember in Top Hat they danced on such they danced on such a set as this?" a set as this?"
"You like movies?"
"I am a devotee. I'm mad about them."
"Then you are a man after my own heart. I'm crazy about them, too." crazy about them, too."
His voice lowers. "I hope so. That I am a man after your heart." He steps toward her. "Do you after your heart." He steps toward her. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" He reaches have any idea how beautiful you are?" He reaches out and takes each end of the scarlet boa and pulls out and takes each end of the scarlet boa and pulls her slowly toward him, sliding his hands up the her slowly toward him, sliding his hands up the boa until he brings her close enough to kiss her. boa until he brings her close enough to kiss her.
Taking her gently into his arms, Philip leads her into a fox-trot. into a fox-trot.
"There's no music," Evvie says.
"We don't need any music."
Is this me? Evvie thinks. This poor girl from the Bronx? Who went to movies as a child to drink in Bronx? Who went to movies as a child to drink in the beauty of how other people lived? To dream of the beauty of how other people lived? To dream of how life could be if her parents hadn't been poor how life could be if her parents hadn't been poor immigrants, hardly able to speak the language of immigrants, hardly able to speak the language of this country they so luckily adopted? this country they so luckily adopted?
"Beautiful lady in red," Philip murmurs in her ear, and she shudders with pleasure. ear, and she shudders with pleasure.
Is this gorgeous man holding me? Is this the man of my dreams? Can a girl fall in love at first man of my dreams? Can a girl fall in love at first sight like they do in the movies? sight like they do in the movies?
"Yes, dear?" she murmurs.
He whispers in her ear, "I'm Philip."
"I'm Evelyn," she whispers back.
He begins to sing. " 'I never will forget the way you look tonight . . . My lady in red.' " you look tonight . . . My lady in red.' "
TWENTY-TWO.
WHEN THE.
LOVE BUG BITES.
It's midnight and I've been pacing, seems like for ever. Finally, I hear the key turn in the lock. I listen at the front door. I hear two voices mumbling in the hallway. Then the door closes. Is she alone?
A moment later, Evvie pounds on our adjoining door and comes prancing in.
"Bingo," she says, whirling me around. "We're in."
I force her to let go of me. "Where have you been?"
She looks at me strangely. "What are you-my mother?"
"I've been waiting for hours."
"And I've been on the job."
"Really? What have you learned about our alleged, possibly dangerous, killer?"
She grins. "That he loves champagne. He loves to dance. He simply loooves loooves beautiful women." She preens, satisfied with herself. "Did I look gorgeous tonight, or what?" beautiful women." She preens, satisfied with herself. "Did I look gorgeous tonight, or what?"
"That's it? Nothing about his background?"
"Give me a break. I've only just begun." She hums the once-popular song those words came from.
I grimace.
"Lighten up. Isn't this what we planned? We needed to get closer to him. Well, babe"-she whirls herself around-"I'm as close as we can get."
I cross my arms against my chest. "Not quite. And how much closer are you willing to get get?"
Evvie is puzzled. Obviously she hasn't considered the next step.
She kicks off her heels and flops down on the couch. "What are you talking about?"
"You know darn well what I mean. He's not looking for a buddy." I imitate Ida as best I can. "He's going to want s.e.x."
Evvie jumps back off the couch and heads for the adjoining doors. She flings them open. "Boy, that's grat.i.tude!"
With that, she enters her own apartment and slams the door behind her.
I have this sudden memory of Evvie coming home with a date when she was sixteen. My mother and father didn't trust this boy. After they interrogated her-Where did she go? What did she do?-hot-tempered Evvie ran from the room saying she was old enough to think for herself and n.o.body was going to tell her what to do. So, now I've become our judgmental mother? Part of me has always respected Evvie's independence. But I still can't resist calling after her.
"You forgot your gla.s.s slippers, Cinderella."
When I lift my head off my pillow and squint to read my little clock on the side table, it's only seven a.m. I can hear Evvie's radio on next door. Why is she up so early? I feel bad about being so hard on her last night. Maybe we'll have a cup of coffee together and clear the air before we go down to breakfast. I put my robe on and hurry across the bedroom and through the living room. I'm still not used to the size of this apartment. It's so far to go from one room to the other.
I knock on her adjoining door. To my surprise, when she answers, I see she's already dressed. In a stylish jogging outfit. And wearing makeup, with her hair smartly combed. I still can't get over the auburn color. My gray suddenly feels very old to me. "Good morning," I say. "You're up early."
"Yes." Her voice is cool.
"How about we have coffee together before we go downstairs?"
"No time." She looks at her fake Cartier watch. "Philip is meeting me. We're going jogging."
"Jogging," I sputter. "Since when have you ever jogged?"
"I have no time for this. He's waiting."
"Let me throw some clothes on and I'll join you. I'll walk, though."
"What for? I don't need a chaperone."
"Excuse me, I thought we were partners."
"h.e.l.lo? Don't you get it? I don't need you. I am perfectly capable of doing this job alone."
Who is this stranger standing before me, coiffed and perfumed and haughty? Her nail polish perfect. When and where did she buy that outfit? In the downstairs boutique at those exorbitant prices? On Ferguson's expense account, no doubt. After one night of dancing, she's actually convinced herself she's one of them, these rich ladies of leisure?
"Evvie, what are you doing?"
She doesn't answer me. She checks herself out in the mirror of her compact. In all the years we've been in Florida, she's never owned a compact.