Her Thirties Part 68

I felt like Professor Higgins in My Fair Lady taking Eliza to an embassy ball—except it was Cam’s Thirties bash/anniversary party and it was pouring rain by the time I got to The Cosy Book Nook.

I grabbed my umbrella and walked back along the splashing street to the shop and rang the bell. The lock clicked open and I shook out the umbrella, leaving it in the foyer, while I made my way upstairs.

Ella was waiting dressed in a dark green ball gown, with matching Ostrich feathers in her hair. She looked quite elegant.

“You look stunning, Ella—such a beautiful gown.”

“Why, thank you, Scott—you look quite handsome yourself in that tux—you remind me of Gary Cooper.”

“Super Dooper,” I grinned—my oblique reference to Putting on the Ritz.

“Is it still raining?”

“It’s coming down pretty hard—maybe I better go back out and pull up car to the door.”

I started down the stairs. “We’ll leave as soon as Marilyn’s ready.”

“I’m ready,” a voice behind me whispered.

I turned and my heart stopped. She was standing in the half-light of the door—My Dream Girl.

Her silvery gown of metallic lame shimmered in the light—sequins enhanced the effect. She reminded me of a beautiful, sensual mermaid.

“How do I look?”

I stood entranced on the stairs.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Her cheeks flushed and her eyes shone fiercely with triumph. I was so proud of her I wanted to applaud.

It was a timeless moment—she in the hallway, glittering and more glamorous than a silver screen Siren—and I, staring up at her beauty, as a totally devoted acolyte.

“Would you come up and help me on with my stole?”

I came back up and stood beside her.

She handed me a silver mink fur that perfectly complimented her gown.

I draped it over her lovely shoulders and stood back to admire. Her hair was moonlight and her gown its silvery track.

She saw my look. “I think we should go,” she suggested.

Her words awoke me. I thought of her as Diana—goddess of the hunt and the moon—remote and inaccessible, yet, as close as her smile.

“Let me bring the car round,” I said, “it’s pouring out there.”

“We’ll come down and wait in the foyer.”

I hurried downstairs, grabbed the umbrella and made my way back to the Packard.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a figure in the laneway opposite—but when I turned to get a better look, there were only silver threads of rain.

I shivered, but convinced myself it was my over-active imagination. The alleyway was deserted—the pearly streetlight glistened on the asphalt and glared in the puddles.

I drove around the block and pulled up directly in front of the shop. I waited, but Marilyn and Ella didn’t come out.

My heart began pounding. I could bear it no more. I exited the car and ran through the rain to the door and threw it open.

The two were waiting inside, when I burst in and startled them.

“What’s the matter, Joey?”

I stared at her dumbly—my mouth gaping like a fish on a line.

“Oh nothing—it was just you didn’t come out—and I thought something was wrong.”

“I didn’t see your car,” she explained.

I began to laugh—I’m sure they both thought I lost my senses—but it was a combination of relief, and the realization she’d be looking for the Camaro.

I grinned at them. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

She shrugged, and waited for Ella to exit, before following her outside—when she saw the car she gasped. “You rented a Thirties car just for tonight?”

“No, I’m afraid, I didn’t.”

She tried to hide her disappointment.

“Actually, I traded my Camaro for this car—it’s mine.”

Her face radiated joy. “It’s beautiful, Joey—I love it!”

“I thought you would—that’s why I bought it.”

I opened the rear door for Ella and helped her in, then did the same for Marilyn.

For the first few moments, she just sat there, running her hand over the upholstery and admiring the plush interior.

“I’ve seen these models before, but I’ve never been in one—they’re so luxurious.”

I was pleased she loved it. I don’t know what I would have done if she didn’t.

© 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

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