Thick As Blood

Cecelia couldn’t sleep the rest of the night, it was already noon and she found that through the ordeal of last night that nothing could calm her rapid thoughts. The swelling to her lip had lessened quite a bit and even though it was still obvious, she figured she’d better go see Nucky about tonight.

With little makeup on her face she traced her lips with a deep red lipstick hoping to blend the colors of her bruised lip. She tucked her hair behind her right ear while the rest covered her face slightly; hiding the light scratch on her face. She slipped on a pair of slippers the hotel had brought and the dress she had bought with Nucky’s generosity, Eddie had been kind enough to bring her clothes but not shoes.

Her last thought trailed to the jacket that sat over the back of the desk. The brown tweed caught her eye, as the rest of the room was a pale blue. She remembered after her bath that it was the one thing that she had clung to because the lining was soft and it felt good on her skin. The fact that it didn’t smell like cigars to her made it all the more appealing. She hated the smell, it was how her father smelled.

She picked up the jacket and cradled it her arms. Figuring returning it was a necessary measure. She found the hall outside her room to be empty and quiet. She returned the ominous silence by gracefully placing her feet against the carpet as to make no noise. She reached the lift and took it upstairs to Nucky’s office. When she stepped out Eddie was quick to greet her. With the jacket folded over her arms she politely waited until she saw the unhappy face of Nucky Thompson.

“What the fuck?” Nucky said when he first saw her, she could only read surprise in his face, and maybe slight agitation. He lead her back to the seating area and gestured for her to sit – she started to defend herself before she even took a chair.

“He came at me, I didn’t-“ she began.

“Not Steinzer, the fucking show!” Nucky asked, now she could tell it was pure surprise and admiration.

“I told you- If you didn't-“

“No... I had no idea it would cause such a ruckus.” He interrupted.

“Well you had to know to a certain extent, if you let me do it.” She told him.

“Yeah but a full house on the first night I wasn’t expecting such a turnout.”

“Obviously.” She said spitefully while tapping her face.

“Look, I can get you some help if thats what-“

“Nucky, lemme be honest, what I do, I do it well. I can make these guys believe whatever they want to believe - except that no is an option, and always my answer.”

“As experienced from last night. But you can’t say a pretty performer like you spends her nights alone?” He agreed.

“I do Mr. Thompson, and I will not go into my private preferences at the moment. But as you can blatantly see I am a mere girl, with girl arms, and girl legs. I am not strong, I am entirely cunning in my line of work and I cannot complete a job without some muscle.” She explained.

“Look, I’ll get you some hired help.” Nucky said again, “It shouldn’t be hard for me to rouse up a couple of strong guys, I promised protection and I’ll give it.”

“I like Richard.” She added.

Nucky looked at her calmly and then down at his glass of scotch – he looked slightly surprised. “The war hero?” Nucky asked choosing his words carefully. “I can ask Richard, but it’s entirely up to him. He works a lot, now that he’s not staying with me and Margret.”

“So I’ve chosen well?” she asked. “If he was Nucky Thompson’s own personal choice then he must do something right.”

“He’s a good man, and I’ll talk to him.”

“And?”

“And I’ll add few extra men for downstairs.”

“I think that would suffice.” She told him. She stood to leave, carrying the coat with her, as Richard was not present she could not return it.

“You plan on performing tonight?” Nucky asked.

“You said Wednesday and Thursday.” She said as she turned back to him in the doorway.

“I figured after last night you might-“

“Well tonight I’ll have extra hands, and Mr. Thompson, if you have any trouble convincing Richard, inform him I have his jacket.”

Nucky gave her a strange look before nodding his head and accepting her leave. Eddie informed her that her room had been polished down stairs if she wished to return everything should be spotless. She explained her need for a breakfast or lunch, and Eddie informed her to go back to her room and wait for service to arrive with her lunch.

She felt greatly taken care of that morning despite the terrible thoughts in the back of her head. However the one that plagued her most was what had actually happened to Mr. Steinzer, and would he try to come back?
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Richard Harrow was slightly surprised when Nucky asked to see him, although he assumed it was about last night Richard always got an awkward feeling when he was to have a direct conversation with someone. He worried about his speech, his appearance. He tried to compensated by being polite and attentive – but he always, always felt them staring – it was so distracting.

He clicked his throat a few times before Eddie opened the door while saying: “He will see you now.” in his rich German accent.

“Richard carried himself over to Nucky’s hard wood desk where he sat holding a glass of scotch and a lit cigarette. Nucky offered him a drink, he refused.

“Mm, have a lot of deliveries to make erm, or I would.” Richard said in response.

“How’s that going? Well?”

“Mm, yes sir. Complete the list everyday.”

“Yes you do, which is why… well I don’t really want to ask you this because I think I’ll distract you from completeing your daily work.”

“Em, what, what would that be?”

“Well Ms. uh, well Cecelia was in here this afternoon.”

“I took care of Mr. Steinzer sir, he won’t cause a problem.”

“I know you did, uh what exactly happened Richard?” Nucky finally let his curiosity get the better of him. Since he and Eddie both just knew there had been an incident.

“Mm, she called out for help, when I came in, Mm, he was on top of her, I kicked him off, and she had a few bruises but not much, so I got her out of the room, came back and called your office and got um, Mm, Eddies, his name.”

“Was she okay? Shaken up?” Nucky asked. Her demeanor this afternoon hadn’t proved to him she had been through something so unsettling.

“She was crying, I suppose she was upset.”

“I see.” Nucky looked at his scotch, and let a long pause soak into the room. “Uh, I asked you to visit because she needs some extra help on her performance nights. I think that’s apparent.” Richard nodded in compliance. “She asked for you by name.”

Richard just looked at Nucky, not quite sure what to say, or how to even begin to respond. He was confused.

“To help? Just I uh, Mm, wouldn’t know-“

“Just like last night, make sure she stays out of some creeps hands and make sure no one tries to break in, again. Like you did for me.”

“I Mm, can do that Mr. Thompson.”

“For now it’ll only be Wednesday and Thursdays, so you won’t have to work extra the rest of the week, unless the schedule changes of course, I assume you can work with that.”

“Yes sir, I’ll do it.” Richard stood up and he could tell Nucky’s next meeting as arriving and he assumed the conversation was over. He straightened his hat and the arm of his tin mask before turning and walking out that door.

“Oh, and Richard. She has your jacket.” Nucky said, Richard nodded one last time before leaving the office completely and prepared to finish the rest of the truck deliveries before tonight.
_________________________________________________

The eleven o’clock show of Cici D’s occurred as planned, and on time. It was just as full from the night before, Richard had even heard the other guys say that some men were waiting outside on the Boardwalk to get in. With men shoulder to shoulder near the stage, and several tables, VIP and regular: drinks flew off the shelf, just as the men hit the floor from drunkenness. They would rotate out the intoxicated gentlemen then let more in – cash almost flying out of their pockets as they went.

Richard was behind the large grand curtain. He was leaning against the same doorway he’d come out of last night. He remembered being surprised by how beautiful she was – she nearly stopped him in his tracks. Only this time he couldn’t even see her face yet he was still transfixed. Everyone in the room could hear that velvet voice singing to the instrumental music of the Ritz band, and if you could hear through the cheering you could hear the way her shoes matched the rhythmic beat of the band as she danced across the stage while man after man stared at her ankles only wishing for more.

Richard had found that he couldn’t help but peer through the gaps in the curtain to catch his own glimpse of Atlantic City’s new and fascinating harlequin. He wished that he was one of the men out there – one of the men she adored. They all seemed to get a glimmer of attention from her, something they took home and cherished. She was so personal in singing to them, in talking to them, and joking and laughing. It was like she knew you, like she wanted to be with you.

Richard was surprised when the curtain swung around, he realized it was well after one in the morning – it hadn’t felt like it had been that long. The performance was so enjoyable that you just lost track of time.

Cecelia walked right up to him, without hesitation. Richard kept waiting for her to step back – to look at his face and stare, but there she was again with a whole hearted smile.

“Ms. Darmody.” Richard said.

“Richard,” her smile stayed. “It seems you’ve done your job well.” She said looking around at the back of the stage, only the men that were supposed to be there were there. No drunken gentlemen with grabby hands or cold cash, just musicians and stage hands. “Shall we?” she asked, referring to upstairs.

Richard was quite unsuspecting to her being so warm with him as he looped her arm with his while leaning on him for support from the uncomfortable and surprisingly heavy costume. Upstairs they both went, and this time they had no trouble finding where her room was. Finally she reached forward to open the door and before stepping inside she tilted her head, and with a pouty face, she asked: “Would you mind?”

“No.” he replied in his deep voice. She could tell that the scar on his throat must’ve hindered his vocal chords in some way. His voice didn’t match his face. He stepped inside her dressing room.

To her it was more than just a preparation room; it was her home while she was here in Atlantic City. She had a vanity table with intricate carvings around the mirrors, while she had dressing panels in the corner near her closet where she could put on or take off anything she wanted. She had a large bed in the back of the room. She was more than happy with the red linens, and soft brown rug that covered most of the cold wood floor. She had a large bathroom with a claw foot tub where she also had littered with many types of makeup and accessories.

She watched as Richard flicked on the light to the room, then the bathroom, and then the single bulb in the closet – looking for any stowaways. When his search came up clean she couldn’t bare to think of him leaving, but gave her a nod and informed her he’d be right outside the door if she needed him. She slipped the headdress off her pinned hair and nodded to him before he closed the door.
____________________________________________________________

Cecelia sat down and unpinned her hair as she wiped off a majority of the makeup she had caked onto her face. Now you could see the slight bruising on her lip and the redness of the scratch across her eye. The makeup had hidden it well.

She slipped on a black nightgown, it had been a gift from her many gentlemanly friends. It came to her knees, and was covered in embellishments. She slipped her blue robe over that and began to clean. She still couldn’t sleep, yet she felt exhausted. She hung up her sequins and feathers while she threw out the trash. She took another swing of whiskey from the same bottle, she found it to be empty now and she was slightly sad about it. But finding alcohol seemed like a fun adventure and if she was to fall asleep tonight, she would need it.

She peered out of the door, he head floating between the door and the wall frame. Richard stood when he noticed her, Cecelia shut the door behind her and while biting her lip she tiptoed over to him.

“Want something to drink?” she asked.

“I really shouldn’t, as well you, it’s late.” He kindly told her.

“Come on, I need something to help me sleep and I can’t drink alone, don’t try to pretend you don’t drink.” She said tapping him with the back of her hand.

“I uh- I’ve had a drink before yes.”

“Wait… wait here, I have a surprise.”

Cecelia stepped down the other end of the quiet hallway, the extra help was doing their job because she hadn’t heard anyone up here all night. She turned and giving him a signal to wait here while she bounded around the corner, after checking each new hallway for men or hired help she slipped into a small room on her left. She turned on the light and whispered ”damn. she shut off the light and opened the door again and cautiously made her way down to the next door, and after flipping on the light she found crates of alcohol.
____________________________________________________

Richard wanted to follow her, to keep her safe. But she was gone so fast, he hadn’t even see which hall she’d gone down, so he gave her the benefit of the doubt and waited.

She came back with a sly smile on her face. In her hand was a bottle of the good prohibited alcohol. A brand Richard had delivered that day infact, he recognized the label.

“Come, quick, protect me in here.” She said grabbing his hand and pulling him inside.

“Mm, I don’t need a drink.” He politely said.

“I’m seldom sober Mr. Harrow. But I rarely drink with company when I should. So please, have a drink, just one – on me.”

“Where’d you find it?” he asked her taking the glass she had poured.

“Nicked it.” She said.

“This bottle came in yesterday, by sea.”

“Does that make it special then?” she asked.

“Better than the Mm, stills.” He said.

“Then that’s good!” she said over exaggerating her excitement.

“Mnm, suppose so.” He said. He held the glass in his hand as he sat down on the wooden chair. There was a large oak chest at the foot of Cecelia’s bed, where she sat with a cushion to soften the seat. Richard took the smallest sip he could manage, something he knew he could get down without embarrassing himself.

“So my brother,” she asked, “what’s he like?”

Richard played with the glass in his hands a bit more – turning it, swirling the whiskey.

“He’s… Mm, A very… good friend.” Richard answered.

“Does he have a family?”

“He… has it all.” Richard began slowly – waiting for the words to come to him while trying to suppress his jealously. “A wife, Angela and a little boy. Your mother, of course.”

“And you.” She said.

“And me.” Richard admitted.

“Did you two meet in the war?” she asked, while playing with her glass.

“No, but it’s uh… how I got this.” He said tapping the tin mask that covered his face.

“Figured.” She said. “Makes you look quite threatening.” She said with a smile.

“I know.” He told her. “I don’t like the way people look at me.”

“They stare.” She said.

“And say things, sometimes I can hear ‘em. Sometimes I already know what they’re gonna say.”

“But they don’t know what they’re talking about.” She said. Richard had paused and actually taken time to repeat this sentence in his head – she was right. “You’re nice, they should talk about that.” She said finishing her second glass. “If you took every scar I have, mental, and physical, and you put them all right… here,” she said while placing her palm on the left side of her face, “I’d look something like you.”

“But you’re beautiful, and they talk about you.” Richard said, giving her an example that he plainly saw.

“No Richard, you’re beautiful.” She said still smiling. She was half asleep by this point, but still relaying her thoughts without a censor.

“I think… Mm, that’s enough liquor for tonight.” He said. “You’re starting to sound a little Mm, not like… yourself.” He said trying to half smile.

“Oh, don’t worry I am never myself.” She added, she gave him another smile as he took the bottle from her feet and moved the glasses to the tabletop. ”Oh, wait.” she stood up, and Richard stood with her she bent over lifting the lid of the trunk and pulling out his tweed jacket. “Here.” She said, “And thank you, for everything last night.”

Richard reached to take the jacket from her hands as she stumbled foreword to meet him. She softly leaned on him while he took the jacket from her and placed his other arm around her back. He gave her a slight lift, and as she relaxed he set her on the end of the bed where she voluntarily laid down placing her head on her pillow.

Richard assumed she had fallen asleep. Her long number, the ordeal last night, and a couple glasses of whiskey would do anyone in for a good nights rest. He pulled the blanket that lay rumpled next to her on top of her body, giving her comfort and warmth, and he couldn't help but move the stray strands of hair off her face before he silently slipped out the door. And even though he probably didn’t need to, Richard sat down on the paisley couch at the end of the hall and waited for a few more hours.