Thick As Blood

Cecelia’s morning was late, as usual. For the second time she found herself wrapped in her cozy bed, while remembering she’d fallen asleep elsewhere. She had drawn a hot bath to sooth her tired muscles, and for the first time in a while now, she felt rested.

She was dressed that morning in a black dress fitted with a red silk ribbon at her waist. She wore her favorite blacks shoes, and a hat that matched her dress. She slid on a fitted pair of lace gloves before grabbing her handbag and leaving the Ritz. For the first time she was actually going to explore the city. Instead of wallowing in self-loathing, and grief from her friends death – she began to think that to start new, she would have to try. Her coffee stayed sober that afternoon at lunch, and for the rest of the afternoon she spent a hundred dollars on clothing, jewelry, and memorable items. Her last store to visit was a small bookstore owned by the sweetest old lady. Cecelia could’ve spent hour looking at all the book she had for sale.

After purchasing several Agatha Christie novels she spied several poetry books. At first glance she spied T.S. Eliot, she remembered the way Richard looked at the poem and read it with awe. The first poem he read had been the Hollow Men, and Cecelia had wondered how a man of war would like the poem, but it was all she remembered before falling asleep. His gravel voice dryly spoke the strange words on the page while she was lulled into a restful sleep. She thought he liked it; she grabbed the worn and broken book and purchased it as well.

She herself had enjoyed the poem, but she thought Richard deserved to keep her first copy, the one properly bound with a thick binding and red leather. She would keep these worn pages and gift him the fancy copy that she didn’t need. She didn’t know why she felt so compelled to give it to him, or why she thought he needed something like this. But still she bought everything and left, heading back for the Ritz. Cecelia had never seen something as beautiful as a sunset on the Boardwalk. There were little things in her life that she was proud and lucky to see – but this, was one of them. After spending plenty of time watching the golden rays peak over the blue ocean she entered the Ritz and headed downstairs to begin to prepare for her show. She wrapped a scrap of red ribbon around her leather bound book of T.S Eliot and set it aside as she got dressed for the evening.

And she smiled when Richard was waiting outside to usher her backstage.
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Richard helped Cecelia support her weight as she carefully stepped down the steep stairs to the back of the stage. Richard was afraid she’d fall with how uncomfortable her shoes looked. But after some time Cecelia was gone from him and on stage. He sat on a tall wooden stool while he watched and directed anyone who tried to find his or her way backstage. Richard needed little help keeping them away, because his face seemed to scare them back to their place. Whether it was their own guilt for not fighting in the war, or utter respect for his duties, he did not know – nor did he care.

When he could he tried to watch the way the light reflected off Cecelia’s glowing skin. Her voice was soothing and sultry, like any beautiful woman entertainer should be. He wasn’t sure if her voice was what enticed them or her looks. Both were extraordinary, and even Richard couldn’t help but feel transfixed. But in an instant he felt stupid for feeling so drawn to someone so beautiful – she was a dame that any guy would pay for, and any guy would give anything jut to spend on night with her. She had her choice of anyone in this place, and Richard looking at her wouldn’t make a difference.

Richard somehow had come to terms with the fact that all he had were fantasies in his head, hopes and aspirations that would never become reality. They were only dreams; a wife, children, a family, they weren’t real to him. That’s why some quiet nights, he’d often dream of killing himself, and even though those thoughts bothered him, he still thought them. He had fought so hard to live during and after the war, it seemed like a waste. That was why he liked these nights with Cecelia, for two nights a week something else distracted him from his darker thoughts leaving him a chance to enter his dream world and think happier thoughts.

Cecelia stepped into his arms so easily after she was off stage, a feeling that was also very odd to Richard. He swept her away before anyone had the chance to crowd the back area, and after leading her upstairs, he was surprised when she pulled him closer, not wanting him to leave.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

“No, Ma’am. Thank you.” He replied.

“Richard, don’t make me drink alone.” She begged. “We’ll find something good… just… wait here.” She told him. Cecelia stepped inside to peel off her dress and throw on her dress from her afternoon stroll. It wasn’t night wear, but it was comfortable. She stepped back outside and pulled Richard with her around the next corner. It was particularly busy that night because for the first time she witnessed a waiter pulling a case of liquor out for requests. Richard stopped her.

“I don’ think they’d take kindly to you taking their liquor.” He said.

“I don’t think so either, but lets go find out.” She said. Anther hand came around the opposite corner for another box so she took the first door on her left, a familiar closet she had run into before. Richard hid with her while they waited for the hand to leave. She flipped on the light, hoping that perhaps it was extra storage, and something of value would be here… but there wasn’t. Only shelves with folded sheets and cleaning supplies sat there. While she listened on the other side of the door she couldn’t help but notice that they were forced to be intimately close to one another as they waited for the man to leave.

Richard hadn’t wanted to come alone in the first place, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was irritated baby-sitting her like this. She reached behind her and found his hand after a few seconds of blind searching; she wrapped her fingers tightly around his hand, and found that he returned the gesture. She relaxed now, as did Richard as she exhaled a heavy breath weighing on her chest.

After peaking out the door, she exited, dragging Richard with her as she tiptoed down the rest of the hall and peered in the closet. He grabbed a bottle of Bourbon, and held it to her chest as she walked down the hall, with the hand she was still holding of Richards, she draped it over her shoulder so that they’d look like a natural couple walking the lower levels of the Ritz hotel.

She shut the door to her room and began to laugh almost instantly, and she was happy to see a smile on Richard’s face. He didn’t laugh, but she could tell he enjoyed himself. She poured them both a glass while they each took a seat, she finally had drug him back for another drink.

“Do you… drink a lot?” he asked her.

“Only on days that end with a Y.” she laughed. After concluding her joke she answered honestly: “Most of the time.”

“Why?”

“Help’s me sleep mostly, why Richard? Have something against it?”

“It’s only curious. You talk a lot when you’ve had a few drinks.”

“Truth only lies on a drunk man’s lips, whatever I said, I’m sure it was true… but… I am sorry if I offended you.”

“No, not at all…” he said.

“Cecelia.” She added, “call me Cecelia.”

“Alright, Cecelia.” He slowly said along with a slight struggle to sound the second ‘c’.

“That’s for you.” She said after a long pause, she pointed to the little red book next to her mirror.

“A gift?” he asked astounded. “The poems, from the other night?”

“The very same.” She told him.

“Mm, I can’t take this from you.” He said shaking his head.

“I bought another, so please, take it.” She told him. “As a thank you.”

Richard picked up the book and inspected the ribbon like it was foreign. He placed it inside his jacket pocket for safekeeping.

“Thank you.” He said, “No one’s ever given me a gift since I’d left Wisconsin.”

“You’re from Wisconsin? What’d you do there?” she asked.

“Lived on a farm, with my sister. But that was before the war, after… I… moved to Chicago.”

“I almost went to Chicago, came here instead.”

“Good choice, I like it here better, in my opinion of course.”

“I’m sure I can trust your opinion Richard.” She gave him another smile, one that he loved and hated all at the same time. It seemed to melt him… and he hated that – he didn’t think he could let his feelings get to him like that. So he looked away.

The silence was interrupted by a knock at the door. Richard quickly stood and prepared his gun. Cecelia was right behind him, but she stopped him from opening the door and pushed him aside to open it herself. Outside was a man, probably not much older than Cecelia. He had sandy blonde hair, and bashful blue eyes. He seemed sweet – he even had collection of flowers in his hands, for her.

“Evening’ ma’am, I thought I’d offer you these flowers and see if you would like any company for the evening.”

Although his offer genuine, Cecelia politely declined, ensuring him that her company for the evening had already arrived. He could see Richards arm and the unscarred half of his face as Richard stood quietly next to the door.

“I know another girl would appreciate those flowers as much as I do.” she told him.

“Please, keep them…” he told her, “or I could, I could wait if you’d like, until you’re finished.” He offered again. Richard moved now to intervene before Cecelia stopped him by putting her lips to Richard’s. Richard didn’t move, he was frozen now, and as she pulled away she could see that the man had gotten the picture.

“Perhaps anther night.” Cecelia told him before shutting the door and turning the lock to the right. Richard stood there stunned and unable to move.

Cecelia looked at him at gave him an odd look. She could almost feel the way Richard’s heart sped up, and the way his breath quickened. It was intriguing the way that he was such a silent being, yet the way his body acted was so loud. She could almost feel his blood at boiling point as she pulled him closer into another kiss. She found it the oddest sensation kissing him because she could feel his soft lips, and then at the very edge she could feel the cool tin of his mask.

She held him against her for sometime before pulling away for a breath. Richard looked at her, he was convinced that he had to be asleep somewhere dreaming that this was happening – because never would he believe that she would be kissing him so willingly.
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Gillian Darmody had left Jimmy’s home in hopes that she would be able to apologize to Cecelia. Gillian had given her up so that she could have the best chance, Cecelia deserved better than her… and Jimmy. But when she got to the Ritz, Gillian wasn’t allowed anywhere near Cecelia, standardized body guards wouldn’t let Gillian in any of the lower levels on orders from Cecelia herself.

So with defeat, Gillian returned to Jimmy.

“Why should we have to bend over backwards to welcome some girl I don’t even know?”

“She showed up here, and I didn’t even know who she was, I didn’t know she ever existed!”

“I had hoped that someone would’ve taken and adopted her, given her a better life, I had you, you were my first concern, I couldn’t leave you – nor did I want to bring her into our lives. You were having a hard enough time as it was trying to deal with your father.”

“So leave her be.” Jimmy said.

“No, you’re all grown up now, which means I don’t have to choose, I can help her if I wish.”

“Yeah, well how ‘bout next time I see Rothstein, I’ll be sure to let him know where his precious New York Princess is staying?”

Gillian gasped – “Jimmy you can’t-“

“Leave it mother, there is no place for you in her life, she does not want you there – even you know that.”

Gillian felt tears sting her face while she tried to cope with Jimmy’s words. If only it wasn’t true. Cecelia spited Gillian for a lot of things in her life… and she should have every right to keep Gillian away from her. But Gillian didn’t handle the fact that Cecelia hated her… Gillian wouldn’t give up. Gillian was all the family Cecelia had, and event though she didn’t need Gillian now, there would come a day when she would. Gillian just had to be patient.