“Maybe it’s a mistake!” he said hopefully.
“No!”
He was visibly growing more distressed. “Maybe it can be fixed! How long?”
“Almost four months,” she told him.
“Four months! You ninny! Why didn’t you do something about it before?”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. She had hoped he would be happy at the news of his impending fatherhood. She said, “I was afraid.”
He began to pace angrily before her. “You darn well should be afraid! What have you done to us? Just when we’re ready to make our big break!”
She couldn’t resist saying, “I didn’t do it alone!”
He whirled on her angrily. “You enjoyed yourself just as much as me! Don’t deny it!”
She lashed out at him in the same vein, “And I’m not afraid to pay the price! You are!”
Marty scowled. “Smart women don’t let this happen! I’m married to a dummy!” And with that he turned and left the room, slamming the door after him.
Nita knew him well enough to guess what he’d do. And he did. He returned in the small hours of the morning almost unable to walk. She helped him inside and onto the bed. Just another night of having to sleep in a chair, she thought wearily. She didn’t dare allow herself to think of anything else.
In the morning she brought him the usual coffee. He drank it and sulked. After a little, he said, “I’d better start doing the act as a single again.”
“I can carry on for another month or so. The doctor told me it would be safe enough.”
From his seat on the side of the bed he scowled at her. “I can’t let you go on with a pot belly!”
Her cheeks burning, she said, “Don’t worry. I’ll not embarrass you!”
He sighed. “It’s all right. I just haven’t gotten used to the idea.”
“That’s easy to see.”
“I’ve had big plans for us. This will end everything!”
“I don’t see why,” she said, sitting by him. “Lots of other vaudeville people have kids and keep going.”
“In the small time,” he said bitterly. “Now we’ll be locked in!”
“What about the Cohans? They’re big time, and they built their fame on a family act.”
“They were always big time,” he said sullenly. “It’s not the same with us.”
“I’ll only be out of the act a few months. We can take the baby along with us. Lots of acts do.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” he said, rising. “I guess it will be a long time before we see the West Coast and Billy Bowers.”
“You never can tell,” she said. But she knew her optimism was lost on him. He was still down in the dumps and determined to blame her pregnancy for everything.
The rest of the company were sympathetic once the word got around. Most of them pitied her. They saw how Marty was rebelling at the prospect of the baby’s arrival and thought she had made the ultimate mistake in becoming pregnant. The baby would make it harder to gain her freedom from him.
But Nita wasn’t ready to give up so easily. She still loved Marty despite his weaknesses — perhaps because of them. She hoped they could see this crisis through together and he would emerge a stronger person for it. As for herself, she doubted that any woman was truly sad about becoming a mother. She was looking forward to the baby and hoping it would be a boy so she could call it Marty.
Then came a series of weeks when she felt hope ebbing away. She was ready to leave the act for the rest of her term though she still wasn’t showing any outward signs of her pregnancy. Marty was drinking every night now instead of only once in a while. And worse, he was coming to the theatre drunk. She kept on in the act with him longer than she intended because she was afraid he couldn’t manage on his own in his drunken state. One night he stumbled and almost fell in the last dance routine and another night he slurred his spoken lines so badly they could not be understood.
She warned him backstage one night, “If you go on like this we won’t even be able to hold this job!”
“I don’t want it anyway,” he said with drunken bravado and tipped a half-empty flask to his lips.
“What a coward you are!” she shot at him.
“Yeah?” he eyed her blearily.
“Taking your spite out on a poor little child that hasn’t even been born yet!”
He got up and faced her angrily. “Never should be born!” he said. And he brushed by her and went out to wait backstage for their second appearance of the evening.
Nita went down the iron steps to the stage level and saw Marty talking with Romero. He paid no attention to her as she took her place in the wings ready for their entrance. Only at the last minute, when she was frantic, did he finally join her and go on with her to do the act.
All went well until the final dance number. Just before the finish of the act he missed a step. He tried to cover his mistake and almost caused her to trip and fall. The dance ended in confusion instead of the usual smooth fashion, and there was only a tiny spattering of applause.
Sherman Kress came up to Marty with his fist clenched, and rasped, “You drunken bum! One more performance like that and you’re out! I’m only keeping you now because of Nita!” And he turned his back on the swaying, perspiring Marty.
Marty gave her a crooked smile. “Seems you’re the star now, honey!”
She didn’t bother to argue with him but went back to the dressing room and changed into her street clothes, then returned alone to their boarding house room. Marty didn’t come home that night or the following day when they took the train to the next town. He’d vanished for a little while at other times when they’d had quarrels but he always returned in time for the performance. She felt this would happen again.
Sherman Kress came and sat beside her in the second-class car seat. The little man was clearly concerned. “What about Marty? Do you think he’ll show up?”
“I’m certain of it. He always has.”
“But his drinking has been getting worse. It will be no good if he shows up again like he did last night.”
“I agree,” she said. “But I think he’ll sober up and follow us on the next train. He could still make the first show.”
Kress shook his head. “I’d have fired him long ago if it hadn’t been for you. And knowing you have a baby on the way.”
“That’s what’s upset Marty.”
“He ought to be pleased!”
“He’s little more than a boy himself,” she said with a wistful smile. “With all a boy’s dreams and lack of desire for any responsibilities. He may look like a man but I know him!”
Kress gave her a disgusted look. “So why marry a silly kid? Especially one on the booze!”
“I think he needs me,” she said. “And I guess in a strange way I need him. He first represented all my illusions about the stage. And if I lose him I’ll lose all my dreams of the theatre.”
“Show business” the sour little man said with disgust. “I’d like to get out of it! Look, I’ve got a brother who’s a tailor, pressing, repairing and cleaning. He owns two apartment houses already. Not bad! I can hardly pay for my room and have any money left!”
She smiled at him. “I’ve seen you on stage. You’re as proud as a peacock. You love it and you know it!”
He looked slightly guilty. “You’re a smart girl! I wish I was as smart. Why don’t you go back to your folks and have the baby like any young woman should?”
“I couldn’t,” she said. “My father told me never to come back because I ran off with Marty.”
“Go back anyway!”
“I couldn’t,” she said, though she knew he was right. Her father and mother would take her in and look after her without a murmur. And then she asked him, “Do you honestly think I have any talent?”
He blinked at her. “You want I should tell you?”
“Tell me the truth. I promise it won’t cost you any money.”
“All right,” he said. “You got looks and you got a certain quality. You show up on stage and people like you. That’s important. All my life, people hate me when I step on stage. So what does it matter if I have talent?”
“You really think I have a chance in the business?”
He nodded. “I tell you what I’ve been thinking. But I didn’t tell
him
. And don’t you tell him either. I think with your face and figure you’d do great in the movies.”
She was surprised. “You really think that?”
“Don’t tell Marty-smarty!”
“I won’t,” she said.
The little man got up dolefully. “All I know is, he better show up tonight.” And he moved back to the rear of the car to sit alone.
Nita considered all that he’d said. She was secretly more concerned about Marty than she’d let on. He’d been angry at himself for spoiling the act the previous night and he’d surely gone off to finish the job of drinking himself into unconsciousness. She hoped he would come around in time and that he would stop drinking so crazily.
Kress had told her she had talent and that she might do well on the silver screen. Nita had confidence in the sour little man’s opinions. He was not her favorite person but he did know show business. Perhaps if she could somehow keep Marty from destroying himself they might get to Hollywood and have their chance …
Belle Ames came to sit with her and said, “Was Kress giving you a bad time?”
“No. He wasn’t bad at all. But he’s worried about Marty.”
“Do you think he’ll show up?” her friend asked.
“I can only pray that he does. We can’t afford to lose a job now.”
“Marty doesn’t care,” Belle warned her.
“He must have some character,” Nita said. “How can he let me and the baby down?”
Belle’s big eyes were sympathetic. “You oughtn’t to be still dancing. You’re at least five months, aren’t you?”
“Just.”
“It’s time you quit,” her friend warned.
“I will at the end of the week.”
“You said that last week,” Belle reminded her.
Nita smiled wryly. “I intended to. But then Marty got worse.”
“He’s no good. We warned you!”
“I know,” she said.
Belle sighed. “If Marty doesn’t show I suppose we can fill in for a night or two. The Madame can go on for a second session of songs.”
“She’s good enough,” Nita agreed. “But it would hardly be fair to her.”
“Kress won’t worry about that.”
Nita gave her friend a glance. “Maybe I could fill in as a single.”
“A single?”
“Marty did the act as a single before I joined it.”
“That’s different!”
“Not so much,” Nita protested. “I can do the first dance solo, and go into a monologue using some of our patter. And I can surely do the last number.”
“You’d be dancing onstage for almost twenty minutes,” Belle warned her.
“I could do that,” she said, though she knew she’d be taxing herself to the limit if she tried.
Belle shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Marty. He has talent and a nice wife like you. What is it?”
“A wild Irish taste for drink which he inherited, for one thing,” she said. “And he’s proud! Far too proud! It killed him the other night when Kress said he was only keeping him on because of me.”
“He should know Kress talks ragtime!”
“Even so, Marty can’t take things like that. He knows he’s good and he’s afraid he may never get his chance. It’s different with Madame Irma, she’s also good but she’s past her prime. And she knows what it means to be a big headliner. She was there.”
Belle smiled ruefully. “And she never lets you forget it.”
“I don’t blame her,” Nita said. “She has a right to be proud.”
The Opera House in Milton was no more enticing than any of the others they had played in. But it was a novelty in one respect — after playing a long series of one-nighters they were going to play in the old house for a week. The manager had encountered some booking troubles and was willing to give them a better deal than usual so Sherman Kress accepted it.
But as curtain time of opening night drew near all the little company were on edge. There was still no sign of Marty. Nita had privately discussed with Kress the possibility of her filling in as a single for the act and he had agreed after a good deal of argument. As the time approached she lined up a new cue sheet for the piano player in the pit and improvised a new routine.
She maintained hope that Marty would appear all during the screen section of the program. The main feature was a society drama starring Neil Hamilton and Lois Wilson. The comedy which preceeded it was another Billy Bowers two-reeler. It seemed that Marty’s old friend was gaining in popularity.
Sherman Kress came to her tiny dressing room as Madame Irma took over the stage. He was in a tense state. “No question now, he won’t be here,” he said. “Are you ready to go on alone?”
“Yes,” she promised.
“And the piano player?”
“I’ve given him a new cue sheet.”
“I’ll introduce you as a single,” Kress said grimly. “I’ve got to get back on stage now.” And he hurried off.
Nita sat staring at herself in the murky dressing room mirror. So this was to be her big night! It was the sort of break many girls only dreamed about. But under the circumstances it meant nothing to her. She saw the sad-faced young girl in the mirror and knew that she wanted Marty back more than any stage fame.
Yet once she went on alone and proved herself, she would have a new independence which had never been hers before. It did not matter that this was a small time troupe in a minor theatre, it would make the start of her appearing alone as a professional. If she won the audience it could open an entire new future for her. But she wanted to share the future with Marty and their child, and it didn’t seem to matter to him at all.
They called her. She dabbed a last bit of powder on her nose and hurried out to the backstage area. Pontiface and Percy were just finishing their act. Percy was playing “The Star Spangled Banner” on his horns with the help of Belle. The act ended in the usual burst of applause. Then the curtain came down and it was her turn.
Belle hurried off stage and paused to pat her on the arm. “Best of luck, honey!”
“Thanks,” Nita said weakly, the pit of her stomach heaving.
Sherman Kress gave her a look of utter despair and then with a smile frozen on his mean little face bounced out and with great zest announced, “A new act tonight, ladies and gents! A fine singing and dancing star from Broadway’s bright lights, I give you that charming comedienne, Nita Nolan!”