Thick As Blood

Cecelia sat up when she felt a curling sensation in her stomach. She violently threw herself into the bathroom to purge the acid that burned her throat. She found her head to be throbbing and a weakness in her stomach. After scouring her teeth and cleansing her face she fell back into bed. The cotton sheet was the only thing still atop her bed, and it was also the only thing covering her naked body.

She tried to focus on the spinning ceiling, but when that didn’t work she shut her eyes. She remembered her night, it wasn’t vague or forgotten, but it did give her a headache when she tried to fish for more memories. She half wondered why Richard wasn’t still here with her, although she assumed it was probably well late into the after noon, and Richard after all did have a job. She let herself fixate on the way he’d been so gentle with her. Cecelia knew he would be. If she had suspicions that he would’ve treated her roughly she never would have invited him into her bed. But her assumptions were right, and they pleased her. Cecelia Darmody, despite her mother’s reputation, had never shared her bed with another man so willingly. She was always more than cautious when looking for comfort – she didn’t want to end up in the arms of just any man. Richard she had known for a very short amount of time - which was why she had been slightly nervous inviting him to stay, but she found that he had been everything she thought he would be.

Although she was slightly glad she hadn’t woken up next to him, greeting him with a hangover wasn’t the most polite “good morning.” However Cecelia noted one peculiar thing, although she trusted Richard, she could tell he didn’t trust her. He had kept his mask on, not that she minded. But she had a feeling that he kept many different parts of himself behind that mask. Even if they weren’t dark secrets, he kept part of himself locked up because no one would ever treat him normally with his deformity.

Cecelia realized that his relationship with Jimmy ran with a deep connection to the war. The way Richard read T.S. Eliot, it was easy to see he enjoyed company or literature that understood him, that he related to. He had been altered greatly by some terrible accident, and now it was a part of him, a big part. And not everyone could relate to the suffering of war.

She wondered about his past, and she wondered about his family. He was so quiet, and so under spoken.

Cecelia’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted with a firm knock at the door. She yelled ‘just a minute,’ while she attempted to wrap the sheet around her figure. She opened the door only a few inches to see who it was first. When she found Eddie and Nucky Thompson she greeted them and invited them in. They stood inside looking around the room, trying to avoid staring at her since she was not dressed.

“Can I help you Nucky?” Cecelia asked.

“Thought I’d offer you another night. Seeing as how I run out of liquor every time you do a show.”

“You should stock up.” She told him.

“I plan to.” He added.

“As long as you take a third night. Friday perhaps? Eddie Canter has agree to move his show up so you can headline after him.”

“Same stage as Eddie Canter? Doesn’t he only like dumb girls?” she asked referring to one of his hit numbers.

“As he does, he’ll make an exception for you.” Nucky said, “please take Friday.”

“I’ll take Friday.” She said.

“I’ll send more help too. Is Richard working out okay? He tends to… scare some people off.”

Cecelia felt her skin flush. “No he’s great, scares away the people I want gone, that’s for sure.”

“Good then I’ll let him know about the extra night, and he can be in charge of the others.”

“You… haven’t gotten any wind from Rothstein… have you?”

Nucky raised his eyebrow. Well the Luciano kid had been moving some liquor for me, so they know you’re doing your show here. Whether he’s going to go Helen of Troy on your ass is another story.”

“I don’t want to cause you too much trouble.”

“If you’re going to make me this much money, and all I have to do is keep a few New Yorkers away from you, it’s worth it.”

“Thanks Nucky.”

Nucky and Eddie both turned to leave, while bidding goodbye.

“I have to ask though… you don’t want Gillian around here either?”

“I… It’s really Jimmy that seems to have the problem.”

“Jimmy causes lots of problems.”

“And he’s got a temper.” She added.

“Well all Darmody’s have a temper, they all don’t mind smacking each other a little bit either.”

“Don’t I know it,” she said.

“But don’t let him smack you around, I can have you with a black eye now can I?” Nucky and Eddie left, shutting the door behind them. Cecelia now realized that this terrible hangover was probably going to follow her on stage tonight, but she was slightly excited that she’d get to see Richard sooner than expected.
_______________________________________________

After wishing she hadn’t drank so much, Cecelia cleaned up and dressed herself in a soft gown – the colors were muted, plain, boring. But they matched one of her favorite hats. She could pin up her disheveled hair and hide it away once she had the hat on. It covered her forehead, but she enjoyed the texture tweed fabric that covered it from brim to cap. She put on a comfortable pair of black shoes before she went out to walk away from the pain.

The boardwalk seemed lavish with tourists. All spent the obscene money on taffy or scarves while the regular Atlantic City goers by passed them quickly. They knew better than to buy something on the boardwalk, they would always save more money in town.

Cecelia quickly spun around when she saw her mother exiting a fortuneteller’s shop. She was holding a handkerchief to her nose, yet carried herself proudly. Cecelia shut her eyes tight when she heard Gillian call her name. Even though she did not want to, she obeyed her mother and turned around. She found that Gillian had quickly made her way to Cecelia – she looked grim, and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry for Jimmy – It was my fault, I asked him to talk to you-“

“Mother…” Cecelia said interrupting her. She still didn’t like the bitter taste left in her mouth after she said that word. “I know. I would’ve rather talked to you.”

“Jimmy’s a bit controlling, I can’t say that he has the best manners.”

“Well I guess you didn’t do very well with either of your children.” Cecelia stabbed. She saw Gillian’s eyes well with tears, and Cecelia found herself regretting her words.

“I did what I could. I had two kids before I was even sixteen. I didn’t know how to raise children, I was one.” Cecelia began to pull away from Gillian, but she clung to her daughter like she needed help to stand. “Thanks why I left you with your father, I thought someone could raise you, I hoped some sweet family would take you away but they didn’t. I really meant for you to grow up right.”

Cecelia took pity on her mother. After all, their lives weren’t that different, and if Cecelia had gotten pregnant so young she knew that she wouldn’t have been able t raise a child. Gillian had two, she could barely raise one, and she truly wished the best for the other – she would have no way of knowing what sort of evil Cecelia would succumb to.

Gillian now looked at her with hope of reconciling any threads left in their relationship. Gillian so desperately wanted to love her daughter, she was already proud of her, and admired her beauty. Cecelia was everything a mother like Gillian could dream of having. Cecelia followed in her footsteps, and if she may say so, did even better than her.

Cecelia held her mothers hand for a moment while she thought about what to do. But her mother began to mention her hands.

“They’re rough.” Gillian said, “You must work them to death.”

Cecelia looked at her hands, the jagged nails seemed to break all the time, they grew furiously and she never stopped to care for them.

“Come on, I’ll take care of it.” Gillian said. Together the made their way through the crowd, and when they got to the Ritz Cecelia ordered coffee to be sent down to her dressing room. Cecelia took off her hat at allowed her mother to come sit down. She brought a bowl filled with warm water to the table, and from her bag she pulled out a kit that held the necessary tools.

Gillian began to soak them, and file them while both of them sipped their coffee that had arrived shortly after they did. Gillian mentioned how she polished Jimmy’s nails every now and then so he’d look sharp.

“He’s got a temper that Jimmy.” Cecelia said.

“He was just brought up by hot tempered men, and doesn’t like being treated like he’s a child.”

“But he is a child.” Cecelia argued.

“That would explain his reputation, now wouldn’t it?” Gillian said smiling. “He’s a good boy. But you must’ve done something to make him so mad.”

“He called me a whore.” Cecelia said, she took another sip of her coffee; it was losing its temperature. “And I may have hit him for it.”

“That explains it. He came home telling the three of us to never talk to you again.”

“Three? Angela, Tommy, and you?” Cecelia asked.

“Me, Angela and Richard.” Gillian said.

“He… doesn’t want Richard here?” Cecelia asked.

“He didn’t want any of us here, but it’s not like any of us listened.”

Cecelia realized the night after her scuffle with Jimmy was the night Richard was late to arriving. He must’ve had a hard time deciding on how to handle the situation, but in the end he chose her, something that went against the wishes of his best friend. She smiled slightly, trying not to seem too overjoyed about his silent decision.

“Good. I guess.” Cecelia said, acting as though his actions were nothing.

“You know if your performances keep attracting crowds like they are, there’s going to be no one left to see my show.” Gillian said.

“What are you working on?” Cecelia asked.

Gillian spent the next hour or so telling Cecelia all the plays and stage work she’d done. She told funny stories about the girls and the juicy stories that were going around town. Gillian enjoyed gossiping and spending time with her daughter. Cecelia realized she didn’t care much for the small chat, but rather that she wasn’t alone for the rest of the day. The time Cecelia spent by herself had become awfully lonely – and she found that Gillian’s drabble about friends and actors more than filled the space around her.

Gillian helped her dress for that evenings performance. She admired Cecelia’s costumes and dresses. Cecelia rarely spent her money on things other than clothes. She always tried to carry herself like a woman, and the right dress did that for her. Gillian stood amazed that someone like her daughter could look the way she did, needless to say: she was proud.

Gillian was the one to walk her backstage, usually Richard did, and Cecelia found it puzzling that he wasn’t there. Perhaps Fridays were no good for him. Or perhaps he didn’t want to see her.

Cecelia felt worried for the first time since she’s began performing. Richard not being there slightly distracted her and it made her worried. Cecelia enjoyed his company, and perhaps her drunken ways had lead him to believe he had been used, or that he wasn’t special to her on some level. Richard had saved her life, she had a soft spot for anyone who did – and now he was the only one. He was the only person to make her feel safe anymore, and his absence made her realize that.