An Impossible Distance to Fall by Miriam McNamara

Author:Miriam McNamara
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781510735460
Publisher: Sky Pony Press
Published: 2019-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“I’M BIRDIE WILLIAMS.” BIRDIE WAS UNNERVED BY GILDA’S QUICK ASSESSMENT and cold tone. “Do you have a moment?”

Gilda looked around the room lingeringly, a frown creasing her forehead. When her gaze came back to Birdie, she put a hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side. “Make it quick.” Her voice had lost the hint of exotic accent, her face the softness of her stage persona; she looked stern and uncaring.

“You sure, Miss Deveaux?” The bassist squinted at Birdie. “I can escort her out if you like.”

“It’s okay, Jimmy,” said Gilda. “I can handle this.”

His eyes searched the room like Gilda’s before he turned away.

“You must know why I’m here.” Birdie meant to sound accusing as she said it, but instead a rush of sadness crawled up her throat and made her gasp.

She would not cry. She wouldn’t.

Gilda pressed her lips together. “I think I might have some idea.”

Birdie hugged her arms around herself. “He’s here, then?” Her voice came out hopeful and high, and she wished she’d never come here. “Forget it,” she gasped. “I thought maybe you could tell me where he is, but it’s fine, I just—”

Gilda’s brows raised. “Oh Lord, you came to me looking for him?” Her eyes softened. “And here I thought you were gonna dress me down like your momma did on the phone.” She looked over her shoulder. “You hang on, let me give the boys a hand breaking down. Be right back.”

Birdie watched her walk away, startled out of her sadness. Mom had phoned Gilda? The revelation simmered in Birdie’s mind, heating her up. Mom had known all along where Dad might have gone and she had told Birdie nothing?

Gilda helped move a few things off the stage but the men waved her away after a moment, and Gilda stepped down and sat on the edge of the stage and patted the spot next to her. Birdie was seething already and she’d only learned one thing—but she forced herself to sit down next to her. Her stomach was aching, and her head was light.

“You poor thing,” said Gilda, patting her knee. “Out so late. You hungry? Thirsty?”

Birdie shook her head, unnerved that Gilda was treating her like a child. She’d gone from seductive to stern to sympathetic so quickly. “I just—I was hoping you could tell me where my dad is.”

Someone handed Gilda a cloudy martini and she thanked them, took a sip, and swirled the toothpicked olive around a few times. “Well, he’s not here now, if that’s all you were after.”

Birdie had gathered that. “But he was?”

Gilda laughed shortly. “Sure was. He’d never come to see me in Chicago before, but it’s not too hard to track me down. Said he couldn’t stop thinking about me. That he was divorcing your mother, and that he wanted me to break off my engagement and marry him instead. Of course I wasn’t touching that, but I was flattered.” She paused to take another sip, and cleared her throat.

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