She introduced herself as Maude. The other’s hair was blond, not golden, like Rose’s, but honey-colored, as though she’d started off light but darkened with age. She had the kind of eyes—keen and electric—that missed nothing. This was Viv.
“How’d you gals get stuck with the penthouse?” Viv asked.
“Just lucky, I guess,” I said, keeping my tone jokey. “What’s there to do for fun around here?”
Maude winked. “Oh, anything you set your heart on. Anything at all.”
Rose glanced uneasily at the corridor linking our rooms. “We were hoping for a private room. We’re paying a steep sum—”
“Don’t worry about us,” Viv interjected. “We won’t bug you unless you ask for it.”
Maude rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind her. She’s still working off a bender.”
“But isn’t drinking against the rules?” The words had tumbled from Rose’s mouth, and she colored, instantly aware of her mistake. “Oh,” she said, her voice soft. “It must have been your birthday.”
“Nope,” Viv said. She sat on Rose’s trunk and began to brazenly readjust her stockings. Maude joined her and began to study her own seams. There are always leaders and followers, I thought, and it only took a minute to figure out which was which.
Viv focused her attention on my sister. “Tuesdays are Tom Collins nights,” she explained. “I figure it’s a neglected day of the week, why not give it a distinguishing characteristic?” The girls erupted in laughter.
Obviously unsure of how to respond, Rose looked at me in silent appeal. “You gals been here awhile?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Long enough to know what’s what,” Viv answered.
I caught Rose’s eye and gave a little nod. Once again she extracted Asher’s photograph and placed it on the trunk. “We’re looking for someone,” Rose said, and I noted a change in her voice, a sadness. Was she already feeling defeated? “That’s him. Does he look familiar?”
Viv picked it up first. She held it very close to her face, and I realized she must need glasses. “No,” she said, handing the portrait to Maude. “But if he shows up, be sure to send him my way. He’s a looker.”
“He’s my half brother,” Rose said quietly.
“I was just kidding,” Viv said by way of apology.
Maude returned the photograph. “He looks familiar, but so do half the mugs in this city. I’m sorry I can’t say for sure, but if you want to ask about someone, I’d go see Nell. She’s been here since the Dutch waltzed down Fifth Avenue in their fur coats.”
Viv barked a laugh. “If you can catch her on a good day.”
“We’ve already asked her,” Rose said.
“Well, that’s that, then,” Viv said, her tone growing friendlier. “So, since we’re going to be sharing the penthouse, let’s get acquainted. On this little island you’re either a party girl or a workaday drudge. Which are ya?”
Rose brought a hand to her cheek. “Are those the only choices?”
Maude laughed. “In this city, it’s one or the other.” She appraised my sister with new eyes. “Hey, you’re a kick. I hadn’t realized.”
“But she still hasn’t answered the question.” Viv’s smile was mean. “Drudge it is.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a good day’s work,” Rose said tightly.
“Now that’s the bald-honest truth,” Maude attested, and Rose shot her a grateful look.
I stepped into the conversation, hand on my hip. “We’re looking for work, but we never turn down a party.”
“Well, now that we’ve got that settled, let’s talk the lay of the land,” Viv said, standing up. She patted Rose’s trunk. “That half-baked closet in between us might be as wide as a cigarette case, but we’re lucky—the girls downstairs hang their clothes on a line in the hallway. None of our rags ever go missing. The girls downstairs are fortunate if they can hold on to a dress more than a season. The smart ones keep their good dresses pressed between their mattress and box spring.”
“Don’t forget Claudia,” Maude interjected. “She lives here, too.”
Rose smiled, and I watched the straight line of her back give a little. “We met Claudia downstairs. Is she a relation of yours?”
“Claudia’s a street rat Nell took in,” Viv explained. “She sleeps in that narrow room, tucked under our dresses. The wall juts out, so she’s got her own spot under the eave.”
“Lucky her,” Rose said with a sigh.
“You bet,” Viv said, misinterpreting her sarcasm. “In fact, it looks like it’s everyone’s red-letter day. Daisy moved out around three weeks ago. Nell thought she’d have to put an ad in the Daily if she couldn’t rent this place soon.” She paused, taking in the grimy walls and bare mattresses. “I have no idea why it’s so hard to let.”
“Oh, it ain’t so bad.” Maude sniffed. “We’re lucky to have it.”
I studied our surroundings more closely. The room could be charming with a little bit of spit and polish. Daisy had either been a slob or she’d been in a hurry. She’d left some handkerchiefs on the floor next to one of the beds, hairpins and magazines on the dresser and some restaurant cards stuck to the mirror. Those might come in handy, give us a lay of the land. “Daisy blew out of here pretty quick, huh?”
Viv smiled knowingly. “She’s either headed to the convent or the preacher.”
“So old Daisy was a party girl?” I said with a wink.
Maude’s eyebrows lifted. “Daisy was a workaday drudge,” she said, obviously still marveling over that shocker. “A seamstress. And you wouldn’t believe—”
“Perhaps we could discuss Daisy’s indiscretions later,” Rose interrupted, exhaustion creeping into her voice, “after we’ve unpacked.”
Viv pulled at Maude’s collar. “Let’s leave the girls to their new home.”
“We’re going out for a stroll if you want to join us,” Maude said as Viv pulled her down the narrow staircase. “Be downstairs in ten if you want to tag along!”
I sat on one of the beds after they’d left. The mattress felt like it was made of slate. I watched Rose unpack, her movements slow. Mouth compressed, eyes slightly unfocused, she was lost to the thoughts inside her.
“What’s eatin’ you?”
She took Father’s painting of Empire House from her trunk and placed it on the dresser. She contemplated it for a moment and then sat on the bed opposite me. “Do you think they’re all telling the truth, Ivy? I have an odd feeling.”
“When your instinct talks you should listen. Wouldn’t father have
