I'll Follow Your Lead

Chapter 2 - Nighttime Chatter

     "You're on in five, dearie!" The old seamstress's frail voice broke Dorothea out of her stupor. She fought the urge to rub her eyes which were made up with light pink and silver shadow. As she applied dark red lipstick to her full lips, she hummed along to the music the pianist was playing in the dining room. When she decided her makeup was good enough, she took a deep breath: in through her nose and out through her mouth. She was always nervous before a show. She always dreaded that the next performance would be her last. She studied her reflection in the mirror, dark skin speckled with glitter and eyes sparkling in the vanity lights. Dorothea was indeed quite beautiful and she knew it. She smiled at herself in the mirror before rising from the plush stool and heading toward the stage.

      Her set was short, but she received a lot of applause as the curtains closed. As soon as the dining room was out of sight, Dorothea let out the breath she was holding and picked up her long draping skirts to go back to her dressing room. After she had changed back into her own clothes, a knock on the door preceded it swinging wide open.

      "Splendid! Wonderful performance, my dear," Elmer, the owner of the restaurant, embraced Dorothea and softly patted her head. "You were a vision of light this evening."

      "Thank you, Elmer. I appreciate you very much," Dorothea returned his embrace before breaking away with a tired smile. It had to have been the wee hours of the morning by now and she was feeling it deep in her bones.

      "Please, have some dinner before you go. I can't have you leave hungry; the missus would never have it!" Elmer wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulder and guided her toward the back of the building where the kitchen was. Dorothea said nothing but followed with no resistance. She knew that she would not be permitted to leave without at least bringing some food with her and she had no objections. In the kitchen, Margarette – Elmer's wife – hovered over a steaming pot. It was small and likely just a personal serving since the kitchen was soon to close for the night. The portly woman turned to watch Elmer and Dorothea enter and smiled brightly. Her wrinkled, red cheeks stretched and filled Dorothea with a sense of comfort.

      "Oh, Dorothea, you were magnificent! Come, come, let's feed our lovely songbird, Elmer!" The woman bustled about the kitchen, first leading Dorothea to a small stool at the wooden butcher's table and then grabbing the pot and a plate while Elmer fetched some water. When Dorothea was served, her mouth watered at the sight of fresh pasta fazool. She quickly began eating and held light conversations with the older couple.

      Elmer and Margarette were immigrants from Italy and had been living in New York for nearly 20 years. When Dorothea met them, they had already established their restaurant as one of the places to be in New York City. Their food was well known and loved by locals and visitors, yet their place kept its local, homey charm. Dorothea came to them as a scrappy, sickly young girl, fresh off the train from out West with not a soul to turn to. The couple took her in and nursed her back to health with delicious food and lots of love and advice. Dorothea cherished them.

      "I'm afraid I have to get back home now. It's getting late and I have a morning shift tomorrow," Dorothea said as she stood up and took her dirty dishes to the sink. She was about to start washing them when Margarette swatted her hands and waved her away.

      "No need to bother yourself with that, dear, you work hard enough you don't need to be doing my job as well!"

      "Oh, but it's not-"

      "No, dear, she's right! You would work yourself to death if you were left alone!" Elmer chuckled as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. Dorothea rolled her eyes but let out a laugh as well. She wouldn't admit it but they were right. She did not know when to quit. "Now you go on home and get some rest. We'll see you tomorrow evening."