The Chaperone Read Online Free PDF

said nothing, but the expression on her face was a clear mix of revulsion and forbearance. Cora couldn’t imagine what about her might invite such feelings. She’d taken care to look nice for this visit. She was wearing a modest but fashionable dress, and even a long strand of beads. She was certainly dressed as nicely as Myra. But there was no mistaking the contempt in the girl’s eyes. It was the way a child looked at the broccoli that must be eaten before dessert, the room that must be cleaned before playtime. It was a gaze of dread, made all the more punishing by the girl’s youth and beauty, her pale skin and pouting lips. Cora felt herself blushing. She had not been the subject of this sort of condescension in years.
    She stood quickly, extending her hand. “Hello,” she said, smiling, her eyes locked onto the girl’s. The height difference, she decided, would be a help. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope we’re in for a wonderful trip.”
    “Nice to meet you,” the girl stammered. She wasn’t half as smooth a liar as her mother. She gave Cora’s hand a limp shake and then cradled her sore arm again.
    “I’m sorry about your arm. It looks as if it hurts.”
    It was only the truth, but she’d said it kindly, and it was as if she had turned an invisible key. The lovely eyes filled with tears again, and seemed to take Cora in anew.
    “Thank you,” she said. “It does hurt.”
    “She’s never heard of Denishawn,” Myra said. She remained seated, smiling up at her daughter, expectant. Cora felt the first risings of strong dislike.
    “You’ve never heard of Denishawn?” Louise, too, seemed confused.
    “No,” Cora said. She hoped that if she were clear on this, they would perhaps stop asking.
    The girl and her mother exchanged looks. They stared up at Cora with matching dark eyes, looking more alike than before.
    “Why are you going then?” Myra asked in a pleasant voice, though her smile seemed unpleasant. “What draws you to New York?”
    Cora swallowed. She should have anticipated the question, and prepared an answer. Vague associations with New York City floated through her mind: The Statue of Liberty. Immigrants. Bootleggers. Tenement squalor. Broadway.
    “I love good theater,” she said.
    Louise gasped. Her smile was nothing like her mother’s—her pleasure was as sincere as her earlier scorn. “Well then! You’re not so bad after all!”
    Cora wasn’t sure what to make of this.
    “I think live theater is the snake’s hips. I want to go to all the Broadway shows.”
    Cora nodded amiably. She didn’t mind theater.
    Myra tilted her head at Cora. “Funny. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you at plays here in town.”
    Cora worked to recall any play she had seen in the last five years. Nothing. She preferred the movies, seeing the faces up close. She didn’t mind reading along.
    “She didn’t say she liked local theater, Mother.” Louise turned back to Cora. “You mean quality theater, don’t you? I don’t blame you at all. It’s a dreadful scene around her, just like with dance. I can’t wait to see a real show.”
    “Nor I,” Cora said. She and Louise smiled at each other. She supposed she would like Broadway well enough.
    “Louise dear,” Myra said, though she kept her gaze on Cora, “I’m so glad you two will be chummy. But Mrs. Carlisle and I have a few more things we need to discuss.”
    Louise looked at her mother, and then at Cora, as if hoping to discern what, exactly, would be the subject of the discussion. When no sign was given, she shrugged and turned to go. As she passed the center table, she picked up the book from the top of the stack without looking at its title. She looked back over her shoulder. “See you in July,” she called out. She waved with the hand that held the book, and gave Cora the quickest of winks.
    •   •   •
    Myra filled her in on the particulars: she and Louise would be staying in an apartment building near Riverside