Part 25 (2/2)
”You'll have to start paying him more if he keeps on like that,” Escott observed.
”Don't give him ideas.”
Teddy's set continued through several more lively songs, and he used his long, expressive face to play up the humorous delivery, sometimes adding in comments, but he included a plaintive love song to prove he had a voice. The women ate it up.
Escott pulled out his pipe and tobacco pouch and prepared a smoke. He didn't seem to be in a contemplative mood.
It was strangely very much like any other evening.
”Thought you preferred cigarettes,” I said.
”Used to. Vivian prefers the smell of pipe tobacco.”
Ho-ho. ”So how's the date for Sat.u.r.day? You sounded pretty happy about it.”
”Yes, Bobbi and I had an additional planning session when I drove her in tonight. All is progressing extremely well.” Escott looked kind of odd. Pleased and bemused and nervous at the same time, but it didn't seem like a bad feeling to have. It cheered me up seeing him like that. ”Vivian gladly accepted your invitation, and Sarah is looking forward to going out to a grown-ups' event. She doesn't know you're the one who actually rescued her, but has picked up from her mother that you're a cross between the Lone Ranger and Gangbusters. She may want your autograph.”
”Son of a-” I broke off, almost laughing. ”What a kid.”
”You know she plays the piano?”
That hauled me short. ”But I thought she wasn't...”
He shrugged. ”Well, gifts of talent and intellectual development do not necessarily walk hand in hand. She doesn't read music, but she can play whatever she's heard. She's quite amazing.”
”Huh. Who'd a thought it?”
”Actually, Vivian did. She read somewhere that doctors had determined Albert Einstein to be so backward that they recommend inst.i.tutionalization. His parents got him a violin instead. Vivian encourages Sarah in a similar direction.
Seems to give the girl comfort, too.” ”Oh, yeah?”
He lifted a hand. ”She has nightmares about her kidnapping. Has to have the lights on all the time. Doesn't like to be alone.”
That sounded uncomfortably familiar.
”Vivian told her that day or night, whenever she felt frightened or sad, she was to go to the parlor and play the piano and she would feel better. It seems to work.”
”You dropping a hint?”
”I believe you already understand the merits of music in healing a damaged spirit. You have the radio on nearly all the time.”
”That's just to keep me from thinking too much.”
”Exactly.”
Teddy made his big finish and took his bows, then began Roland and Faustine's introduction. The tone of the band changed dramatically, the drums coming in strong.
”I can't make music,” I said. ”Can't carry a tune in a bag, and Ma gave up trying to teach me piano when the rest of the family said my practice would lead to a hanging.”
”What do you mean?” His pipe went out. He gave it an irritated look.
”If I kept trying to play, one of them was going to kill me. That last lesson was a relief to everybody, especially myself.”
”And here you sit, owner of a nightclub full of song.”
The lights went out so Roland and Faustine could take their places. Clearly Bobbi had changed the ordering of the show again, leaving out the anniversary duet with Teddy. Perhaps none of the couples here tonight were celebrating.
The music built upon itself, horns and drums filling the s.p.a.ce right to the walls, thundering into the tango.
”I don't paint but can appreciate art. You saying I need to hang around here more?”
”Yes, of course. The rest of the time you could indulge in expanding your record collection. I would strongly suggest acquiring some of the pieces from the Baroque period. They have a most soothing effect on the nerves.”
I knew that stuff; it all sounded alike to me. ”Fats Waller is more my style.”
He relit the pipe. ”Whatever does the job.”
We watched the dancers, though I was sure Escott was keeping at least one eye on me and my reaction to the show.
He didn't have to; I was worried enough for both of us.
”Any new problems, past or pending?” He was talking about my fits again. Great timing. Keep me distracted as the music reached its apex and the lights changed for the bloodred finale.
Shutting my eyes, I leaned on the table, head low. Bracing. Just in case. ”Not tonight. Knock wood.”
”Hm. Sounds hopeful.”
Closing my eyes made it work. Not long after, a roaring burst of applause told me it was safe to look again. I held up a nontrembling hand. ”Maybe there's something to it.”
”Then congratulations. Every step forward is for the better.” He'd finished his smoke and tapped the dottle into the ashtray. Only then did I notice a s.h.i.+ny leather pouch that had his initials stamped on it in gold.
”That's new,” I said.
He smiled a little self-consciously. ”A gift from Vivian.”
”Well-well, quite a girl you got there.” I was going to razz him some more, but Teddy reappeared to introduce Bobbi. She took center stage and seemed to glow all on her own. It hurt to look at her.
Roland and Faustine melted into another exposition dance to complement her opening song. There was a spotlight on Bobbi and a traveling spot on them. The effect was great. While some club owners might object to Bobbi's constant changing of the bill, I welcomed it. She kept the place out of the doldrums of repet.i.tion. The regular customers liked it, and the performers stayed interested. End of number, lights up, bows, plenty of applause, graceful s.h.i.+ft as Roland and Faustine broke away to take new partners. This time an impatient guy, still in his hat and overcoat, got to Faustine first, and he wasn't half-bad squiring her around the floor.
Bobbi sang, others danced, and the rest were caught up in her voice as she did a plaintive but not overly sentimental version of ”Pennies from Heaven.” The arrangement had one of the trumpets doing something that sounded reminiscent of falling water, which was echoed in places by a clarinet. I'd not heard that part before. They must have come up with it during daytime rehearsal.
Faustine's partner maneuvered them close to the stage until they were just below Bobbi, then he held in place, not doing much of anything but looking up at her. Smiling.
What the h.e.l.l... ?
I abruptly recognized Mitch.e.l.l.
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