“Goodness, dear, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Brown asked. “Come now, let’s have some fun.”
The older woman led the way and stood beside the car, smoothing her taffeta evening gown, appraising the scene.
Helen groaned as she stepped from the car. “These heels are going to be the death of me.”
“Then why on earth did you wear them? You should be resting your legs,” Betty said.
“No dancing,” Ruth scolded.
“Aye, aye, no dancing!” Helen gave a mock salute. “Thank you both for worrying about me, but you know the saying, beauty over death!” Helen shimmied and gestured at her full-length gown, a hand-me-down from a friend’s mother back in Fulton. “You don’t end up as glamorous as this without a few sacrifices. But come on now, admit it, aren’t you curious about this party?”
“Berliners have been talking about it for months now. The most elite and fashionable people of the world will be here. And now, so are we!” Mrs. Brown said as the women crossed a pontoon bridge and let out a collective sigh as thousands of butterfly-shaped lanterns glowed overhead in leafy oaks, creating soft pockets of light in the darkness.
A fair-haired, golden-skinned young man wrapped in a gauzy toga offered them a tray of coupes filled with icy-cold champagne. Betty took one and brought it to her lips, but paused to admire the fizzing bubbles racing toward the surface and the reflection of overhead lanterns before taking a sip. A twelve-piece band played jazz on a raised platform over a dance floor and beyond it stood a small white castle illuminated by torches. “It looks just like a fairy tale,” she said, sighing with contentment as the champagne danced along her tongue.
“Yes, there’s a lovely English garden on the other side of the castle,” Ruth said. “There was also a beautiful building filled with flowers and plants, but it burned down many years ago.”
“Aren’t you something?” Helen looped her arm through Ruth’s. “What else do you know about this place?”
“Pfaueninsel means ‘peacock.’ At one point, a king kept quite the menagerie of exotic animals here, but he eventually donated them to the Berlin Zoo. All that’s left are the peacocks. If we were here during the daytime, we would see them strutting around.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?” Mrs. Brown murmured, her gaze roving the revelers. She raised a hand in greeting to a cluster of matrons and turned to Ruth, Betty, and Helen. “Ladies, excuse me while I chat with some friends. Don’t go far.” And with that, she swept off.
“It appears there are all kinds of other creatures here strutting their stuff,” Betty said, watching a group of young blond women cavorting through the party in togas, tossing carnations into the air. Once the dancing women moved on, Betty caught sight of a familiar head of dark glossy hair. “Eleanor?”
Their former teammate turned. “Darlings! Fancy bumping into you here.” Eleanor swept Betty into her arms and then turned to give Helen a once-over. She whistled in admiration. “My, my, Miss Stephens, you’ve come a long way from Oklahoma, haven’t you?”
“Missouri,” Helen said.
“What?” Eleanor cupped a gloved hand to her ear and leaned toward Helen.
“I’m from Missouri.”
“Missouri, Oklahoma, Timbuktu, does it really matter? We’re here”—she spread her slender arms wide—“at the most gorgeous party in the world. Now that’s what’s important, right?”
Betty shook her head in delight. “You’re the last person I expected to see.”
“Now, now, give me some credit. A girl like me doesn’t run home with her tail between her legs.” She wrapped an arm around Helen and Betty and pulled them close. “I landed a job as a reporter. Isn’t that a gas? Plan to see me all over town for the next few weeks. Wherever there’s action, I’ll be there.” She spotted Ruth. “My, my, who’s this beautiful creature?”
After Helen introduced Ruth, Betty raised her glass to the group. “Here’s to all of us landing on our feet.”
The women clinked their glasses together and champagne spilled over the edges and ran down their arms. Seeing Eleanor, the silkiness of her evening gown against her skin, the scent of gardenias in the air—something released in Betty. She lifted her wrist to her mouth and licked the champagne off, giggling.
“Attagirl. Don’t let a single drop go to waste,” Eleanor said, hiccupping. Then she let out a small shriek and pointed toward the crowd. “Look.”
Betty arched her head to follow Eleanor’s gaze. At the moment she spotted Mr. Brundage, his eyes met Eleanor’s. He stiffened, his face froze.
Eleanor pursed her lips into a pout and blew him a kiss. “Yoo-hoo, you can’t escape me, you old toad!”
He turned on his heel and walked in the other direction, disappearing into the crowd, one more man in a black tuxedo.
“Isn’t this rich?” Eleanor howled with laughter and grabbed the sleeve of a passing waiter to take another glass. Betty also exchanged her empty coupe for a full one.
“To Berlin,” they all cried, raising their drinks for another toast.
Eleanor stepped back and dabbed at the tears of laughter gathering in the corners of her eyes. “Darlings, I’m off to explore,” she said. “See you soon.”
As she pirouetted away, Betty, Helen, and Ruth sipped at their champagne, watching the crowd. Suddenly a man in a crisp military uniform appeared next to Helen and tapped on her shoulder.
“Excuse me, Fräulein Stephens and Fräulein Robinson, Herr Göring has expressed that he would be honored to meet you. Please follow me.”
Helen shrugged and took a step after him as Betty and Ruth exchanged concerned looks before hurrying to follow.
The never-ending champagne had begun to take its toll and voices had gotten louder, the dancing looser and more daring. Betty passed a woman whose evening gown was hiked up around her thighs, gyrating as her dance partner looked on with a glassy, rapt expression. Torches cast elongated shadows of men and women pressed together into embraces. Betty passed the debauchery and followed the soldier into the castle. Down a long dark paneled
