Scene 70
Scene Seventy...New Dress
Time: Night, Friday, September 13, 1946
Place: The Breeze
Storyteller: Victoria
"Oh, no, no, no. See the back of that giant up there talking to Steve?" Paul says.
"Brownish-gray hair? 220?"
"That's my dad."
"And he's coming our way. Smile."
"What a surprise to see you, Paul. Introduce me to your beautiful friend."
"Dad, this is Victoria Marconi. She sings here.
Victoria, this is my father, Harry Robertson."
"Miss Marconi, what will you be singing tonight?"
"Mood Indigo, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, My Man, and of course, The Breeze and I."
"Wonderful songs." Harry approves.
Paul excuses himself and walks toward the men's room.
"Mr. Robertson, Paul told me you asked him to join your law firm, but he turned you down. What could he be thinking? Maybe it's shell shock from the war."
"Call me Harry. I keep hoping he comes to his senses. May I call you Victoria?"
"Of course, sir."
"We're having a little welcome home party for my daughter and her husband on Sunday. Hope you can join us."
"That's my only night off. I'll be there."
Paul is back. "You'll be where?"
"At your house on Sunday." This shocks him.
Harry stands. "Wish I could stay to hear you sing, Victoria, but my lovely wife is expecting me."
"I can't wait to meet her, sir. Goodnight."
The men shake hands. Harry leaves, waving to Steve on his way out.
"How did I do, Paul?"
"Are you kidding? He's ready to adopt you and disinherit me."
"That's what Jimmy said about his dad."
"How did you meet Jimmy?"
"It was at the Miss America Pageant, September 1943."
"I'm in Warner Theatre watching the competition. A man sits down beside me. Black hair, dark brown eyes, suntan, silk suit, Italian shoes. I sneak glances. A few years older than me, but very handsome. We get to talking. Lose track of the pageant."
"Before you know it, Miss California got crowned Miss America."
"I guess you were very lonely with Bill...gone...sorry to bring that up."
"Yes, and Jimmy was only in Atlantic City for a convention, so we spent as much time as possible together that week. He was so charming. Begged me to marry him. I couldn't refuse; we eloped and flew to Chicago. His parents didn't recognize that marriage, so they arranged a big, Catholic wedding."
"Enough about me. Tell me about your sisters. I'll be meeting them Sunday."
"They're eleven years apart and I'm right in the middle. Don't worry about them."
"I'll have to buy a new dress tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because I don't own a Church dress."
Time: Night, Friday, September 13, 1946
Place: The Breeze
Storyteller: Victoria
"Oh, no, no, no. See the back of that giant up there talking to Steve?" Paul says.
"Brownish-gray hair? 220?"
"That's my dad."
"And he's coming our way. Smile."
"What a surprise to see you, Paul. Introduce me to your beautiful friend."
"Dad, this is Victoria Marconi. She sings here.
Victoria, this is my father, Harry Robertson."
"Miss Marconi, what will you be singing tonight?"
"Mood Indigo, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, My Man, and of course, The Breeze and I."
"Wonderful songs." Harry approves.
Paul excuses himself and walks toward the men's room.
"Mr. Robertson, Paul told me you asked him to join your law firm, but he turned you down. What could he be thinking? Maybe it's shell shock from the war."
"Call me Harry. I keep hoping he comes to his senses. May I call you Victoria?"
"Of course, sir."
"We're having a little welcome home party for my daughter and her husband on Sunday. Hope you can join us."
"That's my only night off. I'll be there."
Paul is back. "You'll be where?"
"At your house on Sunday." This shocks him.
Harry stands. "Wish I could stay to hear you sing, Victoria, but my lovely wife is expecting me."
"I can't wait to meet her, sir. Goodnight."
The men shake hands. Harry leaves, waving to Steve on his way out.
"How did I do, Paul?"
"Are you kidding? He's ready to adopt you and disinherit me."
"That's what Jimmy said about his dad."
"How did you meet Jimmy?"
"It was at the Miss America Pageant, September 1943."
"I'm in Warner Theatre watching the competition. A man sits down beside me. Black hair, dark brown eyes, suntan, silk suit, Italian shoes. I sneak glances. A few years older than me, but very handsome. We get to talking. Lose track of the pageant."
"Before you know it, Miss California got crowned Miss America."
"I guess you were very lonely with Bill...gone...sorry to bring that up."
"Yes, and Jimmy was only in Atlantic City for a convention, so we spent as much time as possible together that week. He was so charming. Begged me to marry him. I couldn't refuse; we eloped and flew to Chicago. His parents didn't recognize that marriage, so they arranged a big, Catholic wedding."
"Enough about me. Tell me about your sisters. I'll be meeting them Sunday."
"They're eleven years apart and I'm right in the middle. Don't worry about them."
"I'll have to buy a new dress tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because I don't own a Church dress."