Chapter 42

Gramercy Park, New York City, NY
Summer 1936

It was a quiet and lazy Sunday summer afternoon in New York.

At least that is what Franklin Wilder and Sebastian De ’Alba thought as they sat in the courtyard of their Gramercy Park home. They were wearing off white linen suits but had shed their vests and ties once they were home from mass at St. Patrick’s. Their clothes were wrinkled. But, then again, that is what linen does as soon as it dons the body.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Rodriguez or “Rosie” as the men called her had set up a lunch table for the two in rear courtyard. Rosie spoke no English and the De’Alba family had brought her in from one of their homes in Cuba several years prior.

White table linens, freshly polished silver, sparkling crystal and a fresh bouquet of flowers from the garden set the serene tone.

They luncheoned on cracked crab and artichoke salad with a summer tomato dressing. Cool crip glasses of Pinot Noir created a perfect pairing. A cheese board of Stiltons from the Alleva Dairy with figs and pears made a light ending to the meal.

The brick and stone walls along the perimeter of the courtyard formed an encapsulated and seemingly protected urban oasis. Currently, it was a riot of summer colors. Bee Balm stood tall with its bright red flowers and mint fragranced foliage. It was a counter point to the bank of white hydrangea that followed in the raised brick planters along the back wall. Interspersed was butterfly weed sporting a vibrant orange hue. And, true to its name, monarch butterflies danced around its blossoms. The delicate creatures seemingly cooled each other by the fluttering of their wings. In the center of the enclosure was a cast iron water fountain. It sent a continual cascade of cool water. The sound was soothing and calm. It was a much-needed auditory relief from the blaring jazz they had heard for hours the evening before.

They had been out very late. They always started at the 21 Club. Ever since their chance meeting there with the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, they were always granted celebrity status and given immediate entry. After dinner and drinks there, they made the rounds of their favorite drinking haunts. They ended the evening at Julius’s bar in Greenwich Village.

However, Sebastian being devout to his Catholicism, refused to allow any such nocturnal activities hamper him from attending Sunday morning Mass at St. Patrick’s. Franklin attended with him. It was a far cry from Franklin’s stoic Presbyterian upbringing in Savannah. However, he was starting to feel more and more comfortable with the order of service. Also, his Latin classes at Nina Pate’s school came in handy for the translation of the service.

Rosie had cleared the table and had brought them a box of Cuban cigars. They were enjoying their quiet time and discussing their summer plans. It was then the stillness of the afternoon was broken.

Like a homemade whirling dervish, rushes in Sarah Louise Mills.

Sarah was a classmate of Franklin’s at Cornell. She had just recently been cast in Flo Ziegfeld’s follies. She was a true force of nature. And she also was breath takingly beautiful.

Rosie was chasing behind her and was excitedly muttering something indiscernible in Spanish. Sarah had rung the front door bell and as soon Rosie had opened it, she charged right in.

“I know he created Eula Varner in The Hamlet after me, Sarah said in an exasperated tone. I just know it!”

The men stood and were speechless. She flew to each man and give them a kiss on the cheek. Her bright red lipstick left a visible image.

“Why I had drinks with Billy Faulkner last year and I told him how dull life was in Macon. I mentioned to him that for social amusements there were none, except for church and who really considers church a social amusement!! Now, I told him I believed in Jesus, it really did, but I don’t think He meant for life to be so dull!! Why, that is almost verbatim as to what Eula says in first few pages of his book! There’s just a reason they call him “Count No ‘Count” back in Mississippi. I just know he will get a Pulitzer for it! And I bet he will not give me one iota of credit in his acceptance speech! To make matters worse, daddy wants me home immediately. He found out about my English beau, Maurice and he said that is coming to an end. But I am so crazy about my sweetie “ole Mutton Chops” and he does have all that wonderful money. Also, somehow, Daddy found out that I had been on the stage in the Follies! He says I’m a scandal. Why, I took it as a compliment. But Macon, Georgia all summer long? I might as well just die here on the spot. I think my life is over.

And why have you boys not offered me a drink?”

What amazed the two men was not the spate of news, but the fact that she did not take a single breath while she told her story.

“So, am I going to Savannah or Havana for the summer?”

The tranquility of the summer afternoon came to an abrupt end, but the fountain calmly kept flowing.