Thinking about others while you cheat on them, Maddie thought. Was it cheating, though? The other girl had no claim on this Patrick; Judith had never been serious about Paul. She couldn’t be. She had explained to Maddie several times that she had to marry a Jewish man. But then—she couldn’t be serious about Patrick, either, in that case.
“Secret loves,” Maddie mused. “The world is full of secret loves.” She realized she had come too close to revealing her own secrets and added hastily, “I’m thinking of Cleo Sherwood, of course. I’m sure she had a boyfriend, or—a patron. But no one will tell me anything. I went to the Flamingo and they treated me like a leper.”
“Shell Gordon’s club?” Judith asked.
“Yes, he had me thrown out.” A little melodramatic, but essentially true.
“Well, if Shell Gordon is worried, it probably has something to do with Ezekiel Taylor.”
Maddie should have been thrilled to hear the name, any name. Yet it was a letdown that the thing she had been seeking fell so casually from the young woman’s lips, that it could have been hers long ago if she had just thought to ask Judith more questions when Shell Gordon first came up.
“Where have I heard that name?”
“You probably haven’t.” Maybe it was Maddie’s imagination, but Judith seemed to stress the you, as if Maddie’s ignorance were specific to her, and anyone else would know. “But you must have heard of EZ Kleeners. ‘Whatever you need cleaned, EZ does it!’”
“That’s a dry cleaner, right?”
Plastic bags. All the clothes were in plastic bags. She had been looking at the labels, but maybe it was the dry-cleaning receipts that mattered, the paper on the hangers.
“Yes. He’s also the man that Shell Gordon is backing to defeat Verda Welcome in the Fourth District.”
“And Taylor was Cleo Sherwood’s boyfriend?”
“No idea. All I said was that if Shell Gordon was protecting someone, Taylor’s the most likely person. They’re thick as thieves, and that’s not just an expression. Clothes aren’t the only thing that get cleaned at EZ Kleeners, or so people say.”
“Who says?”
A blithe shrug. “People. My uncle’s friends. They also say Shell Gordon is a Baltimore bachelor, for what it’s worth.”
Maddie turned that phrase over in her head a few times, finally got it. “So Ezekiel Taylor is running for the senate. Obviously, a man running for office can’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, they can have them, Maddie. But they have to hide them. If—and I really don’t know anything—but if EZ Taylor was seeing this woman you’re so obsessed with, all he had to do was be discreet. Women aren’t going to vote for a man who humiliates his wife, especially Negro women, especially when there’s a female incumbent in the race. But Taylor plays by the rules, appears in public with Mrs. Taylor, doesn’t make waves.” She smiled at Maddie’s look of wonder. “I told you—the Stonewall Democratic Club is a good place to meet people. And to learn the skinny on stuff. I know so much about how the city works now. I’m making connections for myself, too. One of the state senators that my brother knows thinks he can get me a job at a federal agency, a good one. But I would need some way to commute, it’s down in Fort Meade—I’ve probably said too much already.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that the boyfriend doesn’t matter because Cleo went out with a different man, someone no one knows, on New Year’s Eve,” Maddie said, almost to herself. “But what if it was all part of a plan? What if someone sent that man to kill Cleo?”
“Or what if Cleo died while she was with Taylor and they needed to create a story to cover up what happened? As they say, never get caught with a dead girl—or a live boy.”
“Who says that?”
Judith just laughed. “Anyway, will you think about it?”
“Think about what?”
“Letting me use your apartment when you’re not there.”
“I’m always there, Judith. Except on Wednesdays, when I have dinner with Seth.”
“Even that little window would be enough.”
Yes, Maddie knew. It was enough. It could also be too much. “Judith, please be careful.”
“I’m always careful.”
“With your heart. That’s the part they never tell us. They’re so busy making sure that we, um, protect our bodies. But bodies are resilient, bodies can withstand a lot of pain. But your heart. If the first man you let into your heart isn’t a good person, you’ll never be the same.”
Judith’s blush this time was more traditional, the bright red of high embarrassment. “Honestly, Maddie, we’re just going to—well, we’re not going to do that.”
“You could meet him at the movies, like you did with Paul.”
“But I want to talk to this man,” Judith said, almost as if surprised by her own desire. “If this were only necking, well, yeah, sure, we could go to the movies. I want to get to know him. He’s so quiet. But I could tell, that night at the drive-in, he was looking at me. He wants to get to know me, too. But I can’t even linger on the phone with him without my parents’ getting suspicious.”
Maddie didn’t have much experience feeling envy for other women, but she knew a pang of it now. Ferdie was the strong, silent type, too. She had been seeing him for six months and she hardly knew anything about him.
“How do I find this Ezekiel Taylor?”
“Maddie, you should really meet my brother who’s in politics.”
“Judith, I’m not—I’m happy as I am. I don’t need a fix-up.”
“My brother’s not looking to be fixed up, either. But he knows stuff, Maddie. He’ll know if you’re on the right track. I keep telling you—”
“I know, I know. I should come to meetings of the Stonewall Democratic Club.”
The B’hoy
The B’hoy
The second I walk into the bar at the Lord Baltimore, I know which brunette is my brunette, the one my baby sister asked me to see. The woman is quivering like a greyhound, eating pretzels one after another. Judith has assured me that this is not a social meeting. God, I hope so. Judith seems to be the only person in the family who has a sense of who I am, although we never talk about it, of course. She tells people I’m married to my job, too hard-driving for a romantic life, much less marriage and family. That’s not untrue. It’s truer than most things you could say about me. I wouldn’t have time for a family even if I wanted one.
But, oh my God, if I were to choose a bride, my mother would plotz if it could be someone like this Madeline Morgenstern Schwartz, although she wouldn’t be happy about the divorcée part. My mom is very hard on other women. Can you blame her? My father—well, let’s just say we’re lucky that the only public shanda in the Weinstein family was the bankruptcy of Weinstein’s. Not that I know things. I don’t want to know things. That’s our specialty in the Weinstein family, not asking questions, leaving the stones unturned.
She sips a martini, eyes demure. Flirtation is her automatic mode, I can tell, natural as breathing. The women I interact with, because of my job, are either flirts or steamrollers. I wonder, sometimes, in which camp Judith will land. Once she hooks a guy, I suspect she’ll be more like our mother, trying to control everything, which is the obvious way to be when you control nothing. I don’t think Judith has picked up on all the things I’ve figured out about our parents. She was so young, a baby really, when everything was happening. She’s still a baby, in a way, living at home. She thinks she wants out, but I’m not sure why. I’m trying to get her a secretarial gig at NSA, through a guy who knows a guy. I hate calling in favors, don’t like to be in anyone’s debit column. But I’ll do it for Judith, although if she thinks she’s going to be allowed to move down to Howard County she really doesn’t know our mother. Only marriage is going to get her out of that house. And the guy better be Jewish. Judith has shaygets fever. She thinks I don’t know, but I do. Redheads, she’s forever running around with redheads. She better get that out of her system or she’s going to be disowned, not that there’s anything to inherit.
“What do you need to know?”
“Why does Shell Gordon want Ezekiel Taylor to get the Democratic nomination for senate?”
I love how she just pulls her big gun out. Experienced reporters palaver, toy with you, waste your time. This one has no idea what she’s doing, but at least that means I won’t be here long.
“He sees an opportunity, pure and simple. Willie Adams is beefing with Verna Welcome, thinks she’s not loyal to him. Jerry Pollock, who used to control the Fourth, thinks he can get the seat back. With the field this crowded and two senate seats open, anything could happen. But, hate to burst your bubble, Shell had no reason to get rid of Cleo Sherwood. She made Ezekiel happy and the affair gave Shell even more power over EZ.”
I don’t tell her that I’ve heard Shell has been trying to find new girls for EZ, but he’s not having it right now. Maybe he’s waiting to see how the election turns out, if he’s going to have to learn a new level of discretion. He’s a long shot and maybe he likes it that way. But Shell isn’t going to give up on Taylor. He’s almost like a nagging wife trying to force her husband to be ambitious.