Signor Barbaro chimed in, sounding angry, but thankfully I couldn’t understand him.
“How do I tell him I’m sorry in Italian?” I asked.
“Mi dispiace,” Rosa said.
“Mi so, so, so, so dispiace,” I said.
“I was planning to help you dress the mannequins,” Nigel said, “but I see you beat me to it.” He gestured to the exhibit in an effort to change the subject. It had been set up just as we had done at the Fashion Museum, with costumed Hepburn mannequins placed in front of a series of small black box theaters showing movie clips (with Italian subtitles).
“Sì,” Rosa said. “We could not wait. Now all that is left is for us to make the condition report and display this gown.”
My stomach dropped. I had forgotten that the receiving museum’s conservator had to inspect the garments.
Nigel whipped a piece of paper out of his bag. “There is no need. I knew we would be pressed for time so I made the report this morning.”
“Ah, grazie,” Rosa said.
“You’ve done the most beautiful job with the show,” I said, taking in the exhibit. I noticed the clip from My Fair Lady was playing the scene where Eliza Doolittle made her famous entry at the embassy ball in one of the theaters. But the mannequin in front of the screen was clad only in a cream silk and lace slip. “You haven’t received the My Fair Lady gown yet?”
“It is being repaired,” Rosa said.
“Yes, it was torn, but I thought it would be ready by now.”
“Jacques Doucet is shipping it any day now,” Nigel explained. “You can’t rush these kinds of repairs, you know.”
“Are you coming to the opening tomorrow? We just learned that Tanya will be here,” Rosa said.
“I have a flight this evening,” Nigel said.
“Sorry,” I said. “I can’t either.”
“Then I hope you will return someday and spend more time with us,” Rosa said.
“I will,” I said. “I threw three coins in the Trevi Fountain just to be sure. I wish you great success.” I kissed Signor Barbaro and Rosa on both cheeks and bid my ciaos. The ship had already docked and I needed to get on board. Denis’ wedding to Sydney was scheduled for that afternoon. If I was going to fight for my man, I had no time to lose.
Thanks for the Memory
POPS, I’M BACK,” I said, exploding into the suite.
Not a cool move. There, in my bed, was my naked father with an equally naked woman, who was completely and utterly nude. They were going at it like Irving the humping poodle and Bartholomew the submissive bulldog. It was a horrific sight for any child to see. Making it all worse, Famous was fast asleep on the bed, oblivious to the human fornication taking place in her midst.
Carleen’s voice rang out from beneath the covers. “It’s okay, darlin’. We’re all adults here.”
My eyes, my precious eyes, I thought, retreating for cover.
Pops and Carleen donned their robes and joined me in the living room.
“Sorry I walked in on you,” I said, my face burning.
“That’s okay,” Pops said. “We didn’t know when you were coming back. Did you find the dresses?”
I nodded. “Yes, it’s all handled, although I’ve been fired from the museum.”
“Did that bitch can you?” Pops asked. “She was up here at least five times accusing me of lying. Can you imagine?”
“I told her to go to hay-ell,” Carleen added. “Why would you want to work for someone like that? She did you a favor.”
I sighed and crumpled into the couch. “It’s not that I want to. Pops and I need the money.”
Pops’ face lit up. “I forgot to tell you. I got a job. The captain offered me a contract to sing and play piano in the Saloon for the next six months.”
A feeling of pride mixed with relief washed over me. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
“Me too, darlin’,” Carleen added. “I’m thrilled to have him onboard.”
“I’ll bet you are.” I laughed.
There was a knock at the door. Darwin drifted in with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and a bottle of Krug Clos du Mesnil. “I saw you come in and thought you might like a snack,” he said, setting up the table, popping the cork, and pouring three flutes.
Pops started to spread caviar, egg, and onion on the little toasts. “Ain’t this the life?”
I gulped down my champagne and started toward the bedroom. “I need to freshen up,” I said. “Darwin, can you find out where Denis King is right now?”
Darwin’s eyes darted between me, Pops, and Carleen. “I’m sorry, but he and his family left the ship this morning. I believe he’s marrying Miss Bass today. Then they’re flying back to New York to bury Mr. Martin.”
Darwin’s words hit me like a sucker punch. “Are you sure?” I said. “Did you see them leave? With your own eyes?”
“I…I was told to remove Mrs. King’s clothes from your closet last night. The King party was picked up hours ago, right after breakfast,” he said. “I’m sorry.” Then he bowed and backed out of the room the way John used to do.
I stood motionless for a moment, staring into the abyss, wondering if I could possibly look as tragic as I felt. Then I erupted into tears and fled to the bathroom, locking the door. Falling to the cold floor, I sobbed.
Pops was knocking. “Holly, what is it? What are you doing in there?”
“I’m having a nervous breakdown,” I gulped out, then continued blubbering.
“I told you not to get involved with him,” Pops said.
“In hindsight, you have perfect foresight…huh…huh,” I cried.
