“I’m here for my daily glass of fresh milk—for my complexion,” Ollie said, pressing her palm to her cheek theatrically. “It’s all the rage, you know.”
Rebecca nodded, mesmerized. “I’m not sure where…” she began. Flora had said something earlier about fresh milk, and Rebecca suddenly wished she’d been paying more attention.
“We are new here,” Ana explained.
“Follow me, girls,” Ollie said.
Rebecca and Ana put down their brooms and trailed behind her. Just then, Michael’s boss, Mr. O’Hara, appeared around the corner of the barn, adjusting the collar of his paint-splattered work shirt.
“Good morning, Miss Olivia!” he said.
“Good morning,” Ollie answered without even turning in his direction.
Mr. O’Hara continued in a lilting voice:
“‘Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.’
Ay, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.”
Rebecca recognized the lines. Her teacher last year had loved to read poetry by William Butler Yeats. Mr. O’Hara’s singsong accent made the poem sound even more beautiful, she thought.
“Lovely, Mr. O’Hara,” Ollie said, not breaking her stride. It didn’t seem to Rebecca that she meant it.
With a flourish, Mr. O’Hara opened the door and bowed his head of red curls as Ollie passed, as if she were a queen. As he did so, a metal flask dropped to his feet. Thunk. Mr. O’Hara swept up the flask and sheepishly stashed it back in his shirt pocket as Ollie fluttered past him.
“You’ve not seen that, girls,” he whispered. Then he gave Rebecca a wink.
Rebecca looked away quickly. She was pretty sure that flasks like that were used for carrying whiskey and other strong drinks. Was Mr. O’Hara drinking on the job? She heard Bubbie’s disapproving voice in her head, and wondered for a moment if she should tell Michael. But as she hurried behind Ollie into the barn, she swiftly dismissed the thought. Telling Michael about Mr. O’Hara’s flask might make Michael decide their job was unsuitable for young girls. And thanks to Miss Olivia Berry, the job suddenly seemed much more interesting.
Inside the barn, a sweet aroma rose from the hay bales stacked against the wall. On the opposite wall, a row of low windows cast soft light onto a wide ceramic sink, counter, cabinet, and icebox.
“Hello, Flora,” Olivia said, her voice cheerful. “I’m here for my milk.”
“Hello, Ollie,” Flora said, rising from a wooden bench. She opened the icebox, and cold air rushed out. Six pitchers of milk filled the shelves. Flora withdrew a pitcher, filled a glass from the cabinet, and handed the milk to Ollie.
“I see you have new helpers,” Ollie said. “That’s perfect, because now that the Follies are in rehearsal every day, I won’t have time to come for my milk myself. I’ll need someone to deliver it to my dressing room at the New Amsterdam.”
“I could do that,” Rebecca offered quickly. If she couldn’t be onstage, getting closer to a famous performer would be the next best thing. And the Follies were just across the street, Max had said.
“Oh, Beckie, I’d be ever so grateful,” Ollie said, clapping her hands together. Then she sighed dramatically. “I’m so dreadfully busy learning dance steps for the Follies. Stage life is leaving me utterly exhausted!”
Flora rolled her eyes. “Such problems! Can’t someone from your own theater get the milk for you?”
“Sadly, there’s really no one at the Amsterdam I can ask,” Ollie said. “I haven’t made many friends yet among the Ziegfeld Girls. It’s…it’s very competitive. I’ve got my first big role in the new show, and there’s a lot riding on my performance. If the show’s a success, the sky’s the limit for me. If it’s not…” Ollie straightened her shoulders. “Well, I just won’t think about that. I’ve come too far to go back to waiting on customers in a shop.”
Ollie sighed again. “I could use some help—just until the new show opens on Friday. Is that too much to ask?”
“I suppose not,” Flora managed.
“Well, it’s settled then!” Ollie drank her milk, licked her rosebud lips, and set the glass on the countertop. “I’ll let the doorman know to expect Beckie at lunch. As Flora well knows, our doorman, Mr. Teller, is a tough nut to crack,” she said. “He has a difficult job. He’s always turning away men who claim to be madly in love with one of us Ziegfeld Girls. I swear, they come around like bees to honey!”
“I’m sure they do,” Flora said, her tone sour.
Rebecca’s thoughts bounced to Mr. O’Hara. She had wondered why Ollie had been so cool toward him, but now she supposed that with so many people wanting your attention, it might be hard to show your appreciation for everyone—even if they recited poetry for you.
Ollie suddenly squinted at Rebecca, breaking her train of thought. “Hey,” she said, “you look so much like my sister that I think you could pass in and out quite easily!” She patted her tiny green purse. “I’m able to pay, of course—sis. See you tomorrow then?” Her smile was like a warm hug, inviting Rebecca into her world.
Then with a swish of gauzy fabric, Ollie was gone.
Flora snorted. “She thinks the world revolves around her.”
Mr. O’Hara stepped into the barn. It was clear to Rebecca that he had been waiting outside, hoping for another glimpse of Ollie. “Flora,” he said, “you’re jealous. I’ll admit, that ethereal creature takes me breath away.”
Ana’s brow wrinkled. “What’s ethereal?” she asked.
Flora shrugged. “Beats me. Our dear Mr. O’Hara is always spouting fancy words and poetry. I think he makes half of it up!” She smiled a teasing smile, as if they shared a private joke.
Mr. O’Hara closed his eyes and grinned. “Ah, ethereal…means she’s so entirely perfect, so delicate, that she’s barely of this world.”
“You’ve lost your mind, Mr. O’Hara,” Flora said. “I knew Ollie before she was famous. We worked at the same department store. Just a regular gal. In fact, if I hadn’t told her about that ‘prettiest shopgirl’ contest, she wouldn’t be where she is today.”
“On that, we disagree,” Mr. O’Hara said. “Heaven sent, she is.”
Rebecca couldn’t help nodding. To her, Ollie really was heavenly, and it didn’t seem right that Flora, and the performers who shared the stage with Ollie, couldn’t see that. Still, Rebecca knew from her brief time on the film set with Max and Lily that actors could be fiercely competitive. Everyone wanted to reach the top—and there were only a few spotlight roles. How awful to work in a place where no one would be happy for your success! Rebecca suddenly felt protective toward
