A Year with a New York Lover

A coffee, a lady, and an audition

When Margot woke up in the morning, she was on a shag rug, splayed out on her stomach with her pink dress laying limply on her body. Several empty glasses were littered on the floor as well. 

"My head," she groaned as she sat up. 

Margot looked around and didn't recognize her surroundings. Next to her was an olive colored couch with pillows spilling over and to her left was a tall floor lamp that was leaning over at a dangerous angle.  Margot also didn't recognize the woman who stood in a robe, towering over her with arms folded neatly. 

"So you're up?" The woman asked in a raspy voice and strong New York accent and them let out a lighthearted chuckle.

"I'm sorry I-I-" Margot stuttered, embarrassed. She knew she must be in this woman's apartment. "Was the party here last night?"

"Indeed it was. I thought everyone had left and I nearly had a heart attack at three in the morning when I tripped over you on my way to the kitchen. That dress of yours blends in with my shag, you see."

Margot glanced down and saw that the rug was just barely darker than the dress she wore. "Oh. I'm sorry. I really, really am." Margot began to stand up, but immediately sat back down as all the blood rushed from her head. "I'll be going soon, once I can."

"Nonsense!" The woman exclaimed, grabbing Margot by the elbows and hoisting her up to sit on the couch. "Stay for breakfast and have some coffee. You just live upstairs, don't you?"

"Oh, yes. I cam here yesterday. I'm Edmond. I-I mean Margot Edmond." She clasped her hand to her forehead. "You'll have to forgive me, I don't hold alcohol so well."

"Yes, I've noticed. I'll be making an effort to help you improve. Anyway, it's nice to meet you, Margot. I'll bet Cynthia told you all about me. I'm Mrs. Bilds. I own the place and that makes me your land lord." 

Mrs. Bilds was in her late 50s which was evident by her prematurely wrinkled skin, probably induced by her constant smoking. According to Cynthia, she smoked over a pack a day and probably would until the day she died. She had hazel eyes lined darkly with liner, giving her the appearance of a cat. Her eyes brows arched high over her small lashes and angled sharply and her head was a tangle of greying brown hair in messy rollers, an occasional streak of blonde highlight showing through. Over all, she seemed like a woman both trying to hold on to her youth, but eager to let it slip away at the same time. 

"Say, what did Cynthia say about me?" Asked Mrs. Bilds.

"She said you were just fine! A little grumpy, but fine. Also that you give one of those parties every week."

"I don't give them, Frank does."

"Frank?"

Mrs. Bilds laughed as she walked into the kitchen to pour coffee into two white mugs shaped like cats. The smell of the steaming coffee reached Margot's nose suddenly and it gave her a thrill; she had always associated the smell of coffee with the city. 

"Frank is my husband. Although, you probably wouldn't think it. You see, we're not exclusive."

"You're not exclusive? You mean, you see other people?"

"That's just what it means. We only married for financial reasons, but we love each other in a way."

"I couldn't even imagine a thing like that happening where I'm from."

Mrs. Bilds laughed again as she walked back over to the couch and handed Margot one of the cat mugs. Margot smiled shyly as she accepted the drink, taking a deep sniff of the dark, rich scent. She then lowered it to her lips and drank happily, the warmth and caffeine filling her.

"You've never heard of a marriage like that?"

"You see, the town I'm from is so small that if a wife were to hear that a married woman was with another man, there would be such a high chance that the wife's husband were the man, that every wife would suspect their husband. It would lead to a certain type of town-wide unrest."

"How very interesting. Is that why you left?"

"I suppose. You just don't go anywhere when you already live nowhere. Besides, I came here to act. I want to be on Broadway and I start my audition rounds next week."

Mrs. Bilds looked her up and down, squinting her eyes in a way that increased her resemblance to a cat, and then smiled. 

"You're really very pretty, Miss Margot Edmond, did you know that? You know, there was a woman who's a friend of mine - she was at the party just last night around ten- and she's married to a man who is business partners with another man who's brother-in-law is married to Edith Krankin, a high-up at Vogue. Did you know that? Anyway, I think I might just talk to this friend of mine to see if her husband can talk to his partner and get him to talk to Ms. Krankin and get your name in on some of the lists of the important stylists and photographers and what-nots."

"I'm not so sure. I never even thought of the possibility of a thing like that!"

"No? Why not? You have a very unique look about you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"My, don't you know a thing about a thing?" Mrs. Bilds placed her mug down on the coffee table and moved closer to Margot. "I get all the news from Ms. Krankin through that friend of mine, but they're really looking for someone who's different, you know? Besides, I'd call my self a fashion-lover and well, I've noticed that in the magazines - or zines as I call them- these days, they've been moving away from the 'Betty' and 'Sally' looking girls."

"I'm quite sure I don't know what that means."

"What I mean, dear, is that you're no Betty or Sally. You're like a Aquamarina or Melodia."

"Thank you?"

Suddenly the phone rang from a nearby room and Mrs. Bilds was running toward it like lighting as if it were a crying baby who needed saving from a burning building. Through the door to the room, Margot could hear the muffled sounds of the raspy woman's voice, talking on and on, almost as much as Cynthia was accustomed to.

Margot looked around. She hadn't even noticed the extent to which the apartment was in disarray. Crushed paper plates populated corners, glasses littered every surface available, furniture here and there was over-turned like a boat capsized in a raging sea. But, despite the messiness of the room around her, it had a wonderful charm that she felt as she looked around, a charm similar to what she saw as she stared at the green front door yesterday evening. Sunlight filtered in through the windows, the pink curtains the color of the shag rug pulled to the side sloppily. The morning sun felt warm on her skin and lit up the worn maple floors so that they appeared glowingly with the color of honey. Paintings of flowers and buildings and people decorated the walls in such close proximity to each other, that there was almost no wall to be seen at all. 

"Margot Edmond, come with me right this minute!"

Margot snapped out of her daze and looked at Mrs. Bilds who was no longer wearing a robe, but instead was fashionably draped in an olive dress with a collar and gleaming white heels. 

"I was just on the phone with that friend I was telling you about and she's just gotten back from a family party thing where guess who was! That's right. Edith. Edith, my dear. So Edith, according to my friend, will be in office the rest of the afternoon and we're going to visit her."

Margot stood up abruptly. "What do you mean visit?"

"We're going to march into her office and demand that she makes you known."

"I have a strange feeling, if you don't mind Mrs. Bilds, that that's not quite how it works. You see, it the acting business, you have to audition and get an agent, if you've got the money. You've got to work to make your self know."

"My dear," Mrs. Bilds laughed,grabbed Margot by the arm and then twirled her around, "this will be your audition! And you will do wonderful!"