“Well, kiddo, you sure did foul things up,” she said at last.
“I’m so sorry, Peg.”
“Save it. I won’t queen it over you. But this sure has brought down trouble upon our heads—trouble of every variety. I’ve been up with Olive since dawn, trying to bring order to the wrack and ruin.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said again.
“You should really save it. You’ll need those sorries for other people. Don’t waste them on me. But we do have some items to discuss. First off, I want you to know that Celia has been fired.”
Fired! I’d never heard of anyone getting fired from the Lily.
“But where will she go?” I asked.
“She will go elsewhere. She’s done. She’s in the ash can. I told her to come get her things tonight while the show is on. I’m going to ask you not to be in this room when she arrives. I don’t want any further agitation.”
Celia was leaving and I wouldn’t even get a chance to say goodbye! But where was she going to? I knew for a fact that she didn’t have a dime to her name. Nowhere to stay. No family. She’d be laid to waste.
“I had to do it,” Peg said. “I wasn’t going to make Edna share the stage with that girl again. And if I didn’t get rid of Celia after this mess, we would’ve had a palace revolt from the rest of the cast. Everyone is too angry. We can’t risk that. So I’ve replaced Celia with Gladys. She’s not as good, but she’ll do fine. Wish I could fire Arthur, too, but Edna won’t have that. She may end up firing him herself down the line, but that’s her call. The man’s a bad hat—but what can you do? She loves him.”
“Is Edna going onstage tonight?” I asked, in wonder.
“Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she? She’s not the one who did anything wrong.”
I winced. But truly, I was shocked to hear she would be performing. I thought maybe Edna would be in hiding—checked into a sanatorium somewhere, or at least crying behind a locked door. I thought maybe the whole play would have been canceled.
“It won’t be a pleasant evening for her,” said Peg. “Everyone’s read Winchell, of course. There will be a lot of whispers. The audience will be staring at her with bloodlust, wanting to see her flounder and flail. But she’s a trouper, and she’ll face it. Better to get it over with, is her feeling. Show must go on, and all that. We’re lucky for her strength. If she wasn’t this resolute, or such a good friend, she probably would have quit the show—and then where would we be? Thankfully, she knows how to prevail—and she will.”
She lit a cigarette and went on: “I also had a talk today with your boyfriend, Anthony. He wanted to leave the show. Said he wasn’t having fun anymore. Said we were ‘bugging’ him, whatever that means. Specifically said that you are bugging him. I managed to convince him to stay, but we have to pay him more, and he stipulated he doesn’t want you ‘messing’ with him anymore. Because you ‘did him dirt.’ Says he’s done with you. Doesn’t even want to hear you ‘jawing’ at him. I’m just quoting here, Vivvie. I think I’ve conveyed the fullness of his message. I don’t know whether he’ll be able to put on a good show tonight, but we’ll find out soon enough. Olive had a long talk with him this morning, trying to keep the boy on track. It would be best if you steered clear of him. For now on, pretend he doesn’t exist.”
I felt like throwing up. Celia was banished. Anthony never wanted to talk to me again. And because of me, Edna would have to face an audience tonight that wanted to see her twist on a rope.
Peg said, “I’m going to ask it straight from the shoulder, Vivvie. How long have you been dallying around with Arthur Watson?”
“I haven’t been. It was just last night. It was just the one time.”
My aunt studied me, as though determining if that were true or not. Ultimately, she shrugged it off. She may have believed me, she may not have. Maybe she came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter, one way or another. As for me, I didn’t have the energy to fight my case. It wasn’t much of a case,