at Vi’s conscience, despite a hard-and-fast rule of not getting involved in other people’s business. No good ever seemed to come of it. Jealous boyfriends, broken promises, troubled marriages? Not her problem. Through with some guy and no longer caring who he went out with? Not falling for it. She’d been burned believing Fern on that last one, which had resulted in the Robert fiasco. And her experience with mobsters had only cemented her belief that she was better off minding her own concerns.
Still, something about Luciana’s sad, almost pensive expression gave Vi pause. It was as if the actress wanted to talk something over with a friend, but there was no one there. Except her.
Vi sighed. She really wasn’t any good at the whole female-friend business. Men were all right because they were so straightforward about what they thought and liked. Women had always been more of an enigma to her.
On the other hand, if Luciana, who was much closer to the directors than Vi, was worried about something that might even tangentially affect Marcie’s safety, Vi wanted to know about it.
“What’s the holdup?” Marcie asked. “Aren’t you going to change?”
Vi hesitated a moment more and then made her decision. “You go ahead and get started. There’s something I want to talk to Luciana about. Nothing important. Just girl talk.”
Marcie gave her an odd look. “Oh-kaaaay, but don’t take too long. Sue was pretty steamed.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be along shortly.”
Vi waited until Marcie was out of sight. Then she turned, screwed up her courage, and spoke. “Luciana?”
The actress glanced up with a startled, doe-like air.
“I—I wanted to tell you how much I like watching you perform. I’m learning a lot.”
“Thank you,” the actress said softly, her slight singsong accent more pronounced offstage. A ghost of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “That’s so nice to hear. And may I return the compliment? You are a very talented dancer. I’ve been watching you rehearse with Miss May, and the show will be much stronger with you in it.”
“Oh! Thank you.” The unexpected praise almost threw Vi off track. Then she gave herself a mental shake. Stay on task, Vi. Be a friend; gain information. “I couldn’t help but notice you seem rather down. Is it something to do with the show?”
Luciana blinked. “The show? No, not at all. Though I’ll be glad when we can get back to full rehearsals. It’s hard to perfect one’s role when scenes are forever rehearsed out of order. But I doubt the soldiers will demand perfection.”
“Unless they were former theater critics,” Vi said. The remark earned a small laugh from Luciana. “It’s not something Mr. Miller said, then? Frances said he made you cry the other day, when we were at Camp Kilmer.”
Luciana’s lips parted in surprise, but then she quickly composed herself. “I was unaware anyone saw us.” She took a deep breath. “Please tell Frances not to worry. Mr. Miller was merely passing along some bad news.”
“Nothing too bad, I hope,” Vi said. “I know how hard it is to perform when your mind is elsewhere.”
“Don’t we all.” Luciana smiled gently, and then sorrow filled her dark eyes again. “Since you were so kind as to ask: Mr. Miller brought me news of my relatives in northern Italy. Ones we had lost touch with after the Nazis took over. When the Allies landed, we hoped we would soon hear from them again. When we didn’t, we made inquiries through . . . various channels. The embassy received a report while I was at the camp, and . . .” She blinked as if to hold back tears and looked out over the ocean again. “The news wasn’t good. The Nazis have taken them away.”
“They’re not dead, then?” Vi asked, trying to get a better grip on the situation. “I mean, it probably isn’t good the Nazis have them, but at least they’re still alive.”
“If they were only Italian, perhaps.” The actress took another deep inhale. “But they are also Jews. And worse, my cousin apparently fell in with the Italian resistance. He was arrested by the Italian fascists, and now the Germans have rounded everyone up: his parents, grandparents, siblings, everyone.”
Vi’s breath left her as if she’d been hit. She could scarcely imagine how Luciana could stand it. If she had learned her family, even one of the more distant branches, had been captured by Nazis, the news would have brought her to her knees. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Thank you.”