Joseph Kanon - Stardust

“But that’s probably not going to happen,” she said, sensible after all. “I mean, the studio’s not really set up for musicals. At Fox-I was there for about five minutes-they had a whole building, all these rooms with pianos. Arrangers. Voice coaches. You know, the whole thing. Maybe I should have done a party, like this. Sang for Zanuck. Anyway, now I’m here.”

“Where they don’t do musicals.”

“But here’s the thing-a loan-out? Mr. Pilcer knows people at Metro. He can get a test over to the Freed Unit. You never know. It could happen that way.” Her voice had got faster, a little breathy. “That would be my dream.” Said plainly, too important for irony.

Ben smiled at her, trying not to look dismayed. The hunger that moved everything here. Did Liesl feel it now, too? Pretending not to care, a European reserve, but there every day at dawn. Maybe, like Julie, doing whatever it took.

“I hope it works out,” he said blandly. What else did one say?

“Something will. Mr. Pilcer’s helped lots of people,” she said, looking at him directly, without embarrassment.

Sam and Esther had got up to dance, a signal to everyone else, and now Liesl and Dick followed, as much an attraction as Julie had been on the bandstand. Wardrobe had done a good job. Beneath the military padded shoulders her dress was soft and flowing, swaying against her long legs. Dick held her in the small of her back, just close enough to brush against her but far enough away to talk. About what? Evening after evening.

When Sam made a welcoming toast during the first course, Esther at his side, Ben glanced at Julie, curious to see her reaction, but her face gave nothing away, a polite guest. He looked around the rest of the table, imagining for a minute all the invisible ties between them, and it occurred to him that Julie might be the only one who knew exactly where she stood, not measuring love, somebody else’s real feelings, not even wondering. Mr. Pilcer helped people, a simple transaction. But was it ever? What did she feel when she saw him beaming with Jonathan and Esther? People came with strings attached. When you touched someone’s skin, you always touched something else.

He looked at Liesl, who was skittish, aware of him, aware of Dick, and he thought of that first night, how easy it had been, unplanned. Not calculated, not for a chance at a song, just because it happened. Dick was standing now and leading the woman on his right to the dance floor.

“Careful with that,” Al Shulman said, joking, apparently his wife.

“Back in one piece,” Dick said pleasantly.

“Stop staring at him,” Liesl said in a low voice, even though they were alone. “He’ll think you’re angry with him. Something.”

“Why would I be? When everybody’s so happy.”

“Do you think I’m enjoying this? I didn’t make up the tables.”

“Come and dance.”

“No.”

Kanon, Joseph

Stardust

“For old times’ sake.” He looked at her. “Otherwise Al Shulman’ll think he has to. Come on, before he gets up.”

On the dance floor, only half-crowded, he put his hand on her waist, then moved it slowly to her back, drawing her to him with the music. “Easy to Love.” She put her hand in his, making contact, their heads still far apart.

“I’ve never danced with you before,” she said.

“No,” he said, feeling her.

“We never did normal things.”

“Like what?”

“Go dancing. Meet in a cafe. Well, that was all before the war.” She looked up at him. “I wonder. If it had been you. In France. If I’d met you. How different everything would have been.”

They moved together, easier, his hand resting higher now on her back. She came nearer, lowering her head. He touched the back of her neck, just one finger, stroking it gently.

“Can anyone see?” she said, shivering a little.

“No.”

“Don’t,” she said, pulling away a little. “Like dancing class.” She looked at him. “Schicklich.”

Another minute, just moving.

“What do I say to you? I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. We already did that.”

“And now what? My father was asking about you. Why he never sees you anymore.”

“What did you tell him?”

She shrugged. “You’re busy. Both of us. Anyway, he’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“At the Observatory. With Dieter. You forgot it’s tonight? But you’re coming, yes? He planned it for you.”

“All of us?”

“Yes, all. You want me to stay home? What would I say? That it’s awkward now? Just to be in the same room. We have to learn how to do this.” She looked away. “What a mess we’ve made for ourselves. If we’d never started this.”

“But we did,” he said. “Why did we?” Not really a question, then looking at her, wanting to know. “Why did you?”

The words hung there for a second, waiting, and he saw something change in her eyes, a flicker of hesitation, then a softening, familiar, the way they’d known each other before.

“Because I wanted to,” she said, her voice low, like a hook, drawing him closer. “And you. We wanted to.”

He drew a breath, remembering the dress slipping off her shoulders, his mouth on her back, excited, both of them wanting it. He felt his lower body now against hers. The same. Not the same. But still drawn in.

He leaned forward, whispering. “Come with me. Now. Just come.”

She pulled her head back. “Are you crazy?” she said, barely audible. “We can’t.” A little breathless, panicky, everything happening on the dance floor, people around them.

“Just for a minute. Come outside.”

“How can-?”

“Go to the ladies’ room. Take the door out to the courts. Just for a minute.”

Her eyes were shining, excited now too, catching his eagerness, stealing just a minute.

“Now. I’ll tell him. A minute.”

“My purse. I can’t go to the ladies’ without my purse.” Complicit.

She drew him by the hand, hurrying to the table before the others, picking up her bag.

“The door out to the courts. Down the hall,” he said, but she had already gone, both of them caught up in a rush, not caring, as if they were throwing off clothes.

Dick returned with Mrs. Shulman.

“Liesl’s gone to the ladies’,” Ben said casually. “Can I bring you something from the bar?”

When Dick said no, Ben started across. You always ran into somebody at the bar, it was bound to take a while to pick up a drink. Minutes, longer. He disappeared behind the crowd and out of the Grove.

The Ambassador had courts and a pool behind the main wing, country club grounds. As he went through the side door he saw, in a blink, the studio cars grouped near the driveway, their drivers smoking in the shade, prepared to wait all day, like coachmen in a period picture, but then he saw her waiting for him, there first, and he took her arm without thinking, pressing her against the wall, and kissed her, his mouth already open.

“We can’t. Not here,” she said.

Without leaving her mouth, he moved her away against the adjoining wall behind a tree.

“Jonathan has to light candles,” he said into her neck, moving back to another kiss. “Name all the relatives.” His mouth on hers again. “It’ll take hours.”

“How do you know?”

“It always does. Ssh.” An open kiss now, no time for talking, excited by the wet, by knowing she was here, wanting to. He leaned closer, pressing against her breasts.

“Oh,” she said, finally breaking the kiss, gulping air. “I hate this.”

“No you don’t,” he said, sure now, nuzzling her, feeling her respond.

“Not this,” she said, moving her neck with him.