Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

She tossed the bloomers aside. “Let’s go to Hudson’s. Rosie’s working.” We walked to the streetcar stop and caught a crowded car heading downtown. I kept my purse clutched tight to my side, since I’d stuffed the entire envelope, fat with small bills and change, inside it.

Rosie worked at the cosmetics counter at J.L. Hudson’s department store on Woodward. Even at four in the afternoon, her face was painted-on pretty, crowned by curly locks of golden blond hair cut fashionably short. They were twins, but it always struck me how different they were—in both looks and demeanor. Where Rosie was long-legged and slender, Evelyn was almost as short as me, with a rounder face and thicker middle. She wasn’t unattractive, just plain—but any girl could look plain next to Rosie, who was as tart as she was beautiful.

“Tiny has a date tonight,” Evelyn announced breathlessly. “With Joey Lupo, going dancing at Club 23. She needs help finding something to wear.”

“No kidding.” Rosie tilted her head, like she might be seeing me in a new light. “Club 23, huh?” Glancing at the huge clock on the wall, she nodded. “I’ll take my break now and help you out. God knows you’ll need it.”

She accompanied us to the dress department on the sixth floor, where she began pulling dresses off the rack for me to try on. “Lord, Tiny, you’re so short I don’t know what will fit,” she complained. “But you are nice and skinny. Let’s try these.”

“Isn’t that a little flimsy?” Evelyn asked when I had the first one on.

I knew what she meant, but I liked it. It was slate blue satin underneath and had a sheer chiffon overlay in the same color. It had a V neck and no sleeves—a first for me—and hung straight to my hips where its satin sash was tied in an intricate knot on the left. The skirt hung in fluttery panels with a zigzag effect. Glancing at my purse in Evelyn’s hands, I wondered how much it cost—I’d already be down a hundred bucks tonight, and I needed four hundred twenty to buy whisky with tomorrow. Since I was usually so frugal, even the nicest dress in my closet cost less than ten dollars. Something told me this one would be considerably more. “How much is this?”

“Hmm.” Rosie stood back and pursed her lips. “Good color for you, matches your eyes.” She circled me like a vulture.

“What does it cost?”

“Around twenty, I think. Maybe closer to thirty.”

My heart plummeted. But then I imagined Rosie in the club wearing this blue number while I stood next to her in my green-checkered church dress. To hell with the cost. “I’ll take it.”

“Good.” She nodded. “You’ll need new stockings—sheer black,” she said, scrutinizing my lower legs. “With roll garters. Then new shoes, with higher heels.”

“And a lipstick,” I added.

Rosie pointed at me. “Now you’re talkin.”

When I boarded the streetcar for home, I carried bags that held the dress, a pair of black stockings and satin-covered roll garters, black satin t-straps with high heels, a tiny silver mesh evening bag, and a pale peach lace-edged step-in—which Rosie had assured me was all I needed to wear under my dress. She also helped me choose a tube of lipstick called Red Velvet and told me she’d be home at seven if I wanted her to help me get ready. My envelope had taken a huge hit, but I still had enough to pay Angel tonight and buy twelve cases tomorrow. Barely.

Back at my house, I prepared supper—scrambled eggs and bacon, the one meal I didn’t habitually sc

rew up—and gave the girls permission to go to the movies. I told them I was going out and wouldn’t be home until late, but I warned them to observe their regular curfew or else. Molly’s eyes lit up, and I figured she’d be tempted to take advantage of my absence, but I also knew Mary Grace would tattle on her first chance she got. After doing the dishes, I drove over to the LaChance house, my purchases in the back seat.

I felt like a doll as they worked on me up in their room, fastening my dress and fussing over my hair and makeup. “You’re so lucky to have this naturally wavy hair,” Rosie said, curling it around her fingers. “And such a perfect little body, straight up and down. I know girls who’d kill for that figure. It’s just right for all the new dresses.”

“I could never wear this.” Evelyn fingered the soft chiffon.

“Ya got that right,” said Rosie with a snort. “OK, now the powder and rouge.” Her fingers fluttered and smudged across my face while I tried to hold still. “There. Now, when you get home, rinse your mouth out with Listerine and then put on the lipstick, like this.” She took my new lipstick and put it on her own lips. “Try to make a little bow on the top, like I did.” She puckered and preened in the mirror over their dresser.

“Got it.” I stood to look at my own reflection. My chin-length hair was styled neatly around my made-up face, and Rosie had lent me a black beaded headband, which hid half my forehead. The blue of the dress brought out the color of my eyes, and I loved the way the sheer black stockings peeked out from under the zig-zag hem. Even more, I adored what I couldn’t see—the way the stockings were rolled to just above my knee and held there by the garters, the decadent feel of satin against my unbound breasts, and the looseness of the step-in compared to the usual body-binding corselette.

“You look like a million bucks,” Rosie said, a rare compliment from her.

“Thanks. I owe you.”

“Can you get me into Club 23?” One penciled brow peaked above her hopeful eyes.

“Maybe next time,” I told her, although the last thing I wanted to do was make an entrance into a club next to Rosie.

Back at home, I brushed my teeth and did some final primping in my bedroom mirror, thankful for the privacy while I practiced walking in my new heels. It took me a few tries to get the bow lips right, but I thought I had a reasonable imitation by the time I heard a knock on the front door.

When he saw me, Joey’s eyebrows shot up. “Damn, Tiny. If I didn’t know it was you, I’d say you were beautiful.” He was wearing a dark brown suit, white shirt open at the collar, no tie or hat. The suit looked a bit worse for wear, but he’d tamed his hair and shaved, revealing clear skin and a strong jaw. My insides performed a funny little flip.

“You’re a riot. But I’ll thank you to just keep quiet tonight.” I pulled the door shut behind me and walked to his car, a black Ford much like mine.

“Don’t you want me to get the door for you?”

I waved him off. “This isn’t a date, Joey. Just get in and drive. Do you know where we’re going?”