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Nerinda Aird hurried with her classmate Debbie Deluca to the stage entrance of New York City Center. Their professor, Linda Bannister, was standing at the door with a security guard. Linda grinned and sarcastically said, “Surprise, surprise, the first to arrive?”
“Always,” beamed Rindy. “Good morning, Professor Bannister!”
“Morning, Rindy…Hi, Debbie.”
Debbie replied, “Hello, Professor Bannister.”
“Come in, ladies…this is Benny Gallo, you’ll see him often…this is his house.”
Debbie perked as she made eye contact with the graying gatekeeper, “Belmont Gallos?”
“Benny smiled; that’s the ones. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Debbie DeLuca.”
“Ahh, yeah…Good bunch.”
Linda directed, “Debbie, you know where to go, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Follow me, Rindy.” Debbie attended Linda's workshop at NYCC the summer before.
They studied the front-row seats, discussed the pros and cons, picked two, and sat.
Their eight classmates filtered in over the next ten minutes.
Linda joined them spot-on at 9:00 a.m. this Monday, March 1st, 1965. “Good! Everyone made it. Alright, listen up. As I said in class on Friday, we have the honor and privilege of witnessing eight and a half weeks of theater magic, the stagecraft of the highly anticipated Guys and Dolls revival. The show will open on Wednesday, April 28th, and close on Wednesday, May 9th.
Five talented specialists will take turns addressing this class. We’ll meet right here each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. All five threaten to send us packing if you don’t participate with worthy questions for them and, in turn, worthy responses when they ask for your opinions and thoughts. Do you understand?”
Nine students responded affirmatively, but Jake Moss raised his hand.
“Jake?” Linda warily asked.
“How are we defining ‘worthy?’ I mean — “
Linda cut him short, “You’ll find out soon enough, Mr. Moss.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And here they are,” Linda announced as she pointed to the back of the house.
The students turned in their front-row seats to view the incoming professionals. Three men and two women hurried down the stairs, then took a right, lining up shoulder to shoulder next to the left of Linda.
Debbie had started clapping upon spotting them, and the other students followed suit. The grinning creators took a cast-like bow, and the applause stopped a few seconds later.
Linda proceeded to introduce the five. Rindy tensed with surprise when her teacher said, ‘Sets, Therese Belivet.’ The stunning, five-threeish, thirty-something brunette smiled as she scanned the students. The facial expression included two of the cutest dimples Rindy had ever seen. She thought, No wonder, Mother.
The producer addressed his audience. “Welcome, students of Stage Craft 201 from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. You’ll only see me twice for this class: today and on your last day, Monday, April 26th. Then it’s showtime for our crew, and graduation a month later for you.
“I’ll start by emphasizing the magnitude of a Broadway musical…we’ll close today with a theater tour led by Stage Manager Holland Kirby. But first, please introduce yourselves to our team and state your major. Will you start us off, young lady?” he gazed at Rindy.
“Rindy Aird, Acting.”
*****
After the tour and Linda’s closing comments, the class disbursed to go their various ways. Rindy left backstage and saw Therese Belivet on stage right, flipping through color charts at a work table.
Rindy tapped her friend’s arm, “Hey, Deb, I’m going to skip lunch and take care of something while I’m downtown. I’ll see you at our two o’clock class, okay?”
“Sure, Rind, but grab something to eat somewhere; we can’t have you passing out in Dudley’s class.”
“Yes, Mommy! See ya.”
“Bye-bye,” chuckled Debbie.
Rindy lingered, pretending to scrutinize the set materials piled about the stage. The stage emptied except for Therese and Rindy. Rindy neared her mother’s ‘roommate.’ “Excuse me…Miss Belivet?”
Therese turned hesitantly, “Yes?”
“I’m — “
“I know who you are,” Therese said dismissively.
“Oh, well, uh…I just wanted to say — “ she paused to compose the right words.
“‘Say’ what? Listen, Miss Aird, I respect you as a dramatic arts student and will treat you accordingly for the next two months. But that is that. You and your family have broken Carol Aird’s heart, one of the most tender on this earth. I don’t want, no, I can’t treat you chummily. Let’s just say we’ll share your educational experience and leave it there.”
Rindy nodded, then turned and hurried from the stage. She held back her tears until she reached the busy street, then caught a cab. The girl blurted, “Central Park.”
“The cabby husked, “You okay, lady?”
“I will be after a good cry.”
He passed a box of tissues over the seat. Have at it, doll; it’s your fare.”
“Thanks,” uttered Rindy, then she plucked three and buried her face in her hands.
The driver shook his head empathetically as he maneuvered in the lunch hour rush.
*****
Rindy sat on the park bench with her half-eaten hot dog in one hand and a Dr. Pepper in the other. It was cold and breezy, but the sad young woman did not care; she had sought the numbness.
A woman and child strolled hand in hand. “Mommy, hot dog,” the three-ish little girl said, gazing at Rindy.
The woman doted, “Yes, Katie Bird, she has a hot dog. Would you like one?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“We’ll get two and take them home; it’s too chilly to eat outside.”
Rindy watched them until they reached the same food stand where she’d purchased the lunch. She could remember such early childhood outings with her mother, Carol Aird, rather ‘Carol Davies,’ her maiden name.
The mental images of Rindy’s beautiful blonde mother were cloudy at best, and any remaining photographs of Carol Aird hid in her father’s attic. On Christmas Eve, ten-year-old Rindy tossed every frame and album into a box and insisted her father, Hargess Aird, carry the coffin up the pulldown staircase. Yes, a burial for the ‘deviant’ whom the Airds had driven the child to hate. The darkness didn’t end there; Carol’s entire side of the family were little more than apparitions.
A gust whisked away Rindy’s paper napkin. She hated littering, but any attempt to catch the runaway was futile. A glance at her watch caused her to stand. As she hurried off, Rindy dropped her food and beverage in a nearby trash can. She’d barely make her midafternoon class.
*****
Therese entered their Madison Avenue apartment at five after seven that evening. Carol greeted her with the embrace and kiss she’d always anticipate and cherish, especially the kiss, a gentle open-mouth press of the lips, and a touch of tongues.
Carol Davies spoke concernedly, “Long day, I expected it. The price of a new production. But this melancholy. That’s not right. You always come in bubbling with enthusiasm, reborn.”
After Carol helped her remove and hang her overcoat, Therese sighed, “We never keep things from each other, and I need to share, but a stiff drink is required.”
“That, I did expect, although for a celebration, not a recovery; anyway, a pitcher of Martinis awaits.”
“My angel,” Therese smiled.
“And I made tossed salads with cold chicken and bacon chopped up on top; they’re in the fridge.”
“Just the way I like.”
“Of course. Now come sit, I’ll pour, you talk.”
Therese took the end of their sofa; she knew Carol would perch in the comfy chair beside her. “Do you recall my telling you that we were hosting a drama class from the American Academy of Performing Arts?”
“I do, but you’ve had such before, and I recall you enjoying them. “
Carol handed Therese a cocktail and sat in her ‘comfy’ chair. Therese took a sip. “Mmm, perfect…as always. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” replied Carol. She tested the creation as well and closed her eyes with approval. Carol patiently waited for her love to begin.
“Carol, your daughter must be studying acting. She is in this second-year Stage Craft class.”
Carol placed her glass on the coffee table and stood. She walked to the mantle and lifted the small framed snapshot of her and age-six Rindy.
“How old would she be now, Carol…twenty-one?”
“Yes. Abby said something last year about hearing that Rindy had quit Wellesley and returned to New Jersey. I guess she enrolled in this dramatic arts two-year program.”
“Evidently,” said Therese, then she defensively rattled, “Anyway, she approached me after her class dismissed and seemed to want to — hell, I don’t know what she wanted, but I had already prepared a response. You see, our producer had them introduce themselves to us. Honestly, Carol, I could have walked by her on the street every day and failed to recognize her as your daughter. I never even met her in person, and these photos of her are ancient.”
“That’s not my fault, the lack of photos.”
“Heavens! I know it’s not your fault, sweetness.”
“What did you say to her, Therese?”
Therese jumbled through the angst-filled words she’d put upon Rindy.
“Oh, Therese. You love me so much, my tiny protector. But the poor girl, my God.”
Therese joined Carol and hugged her from behind. “I’m sorry, darling, but they…she crushed you, and I hate them for that.”
“I despise Harge and his family, but I love my daughter. She was an impressionable child and learned what they taught her.”
“But she’s an adult now. You never said it, but I know you’ve held hope that she would come knock on our door someday, or walk into Longbow.”
Carol was crying, but she chuckled, “The store? Now, that would have been a scene indeed. Perhaps a drama class project akin to East of Eden.”
“Carol,” Therese scolded, “seriously.”
They sat and emptied their glasses. This time, Therese fetched the pitcher and poured. As it ran dry, filling her glass, Therese said, “That’s all.”
Carol replied, “Good. If I had made more, we’d have hangovers tomorrow. And that wouldn’t do.”
Therese groaned as she slumped back into the couch, glass in hand.
Carol asked, “When do you next see her?”
“Lucky me…Wednesday. I’m first at-bat with the kiddos.”
“Of course you are; your sets are the show’s foundation. Darling?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“What if she were knocking on our door?”
“What?”
“At the theater this morning, when she approached you.”
“Oh. Hmm.”
“What does she look like?”
“You mean, who? She looks like Patti Chandler.”
“From all the bikini movies?”
“Yep.”
“That starlet looks like a model.”
“True, but for Rindy’s sake, I hope she can act better than Miss Chandler.”
“Therese, what will you say to Rindy on Wednesday?”
“Carol, as I told her this morning, I’m keeping it academic.”
*****
Rindy and Debbie stepped backstage on Wednesday morning as Benny had directed. Therese Belivet greeted them, “Good morning, Rindy, Debbie.”
“Hello, Miss Belivet,” replied Debbie, but Rindy only nodded.
“Where do you girls stay?”
Debbie replied, “The school has a dormitory. It’s old but clean, and the food is pretty good.”
“That’s nice,” replied Therese. She wasn’t the best at small talk. “Rindy, how — “
Jake burst through the door, panting, “There! I told you I could be early, too.”
The women laughed at him. He protested, “What?”
Rindy pointed at his waist. “Your shirt tail, sweetie.”
He glanced down, then reddened, and spun his back to them as he tucked in his shirt.”
*****
Therese mesmerized the class with a brief bio and a progression of set design since her entry into the craft. She compared some of her earliest models to the latest. “Technology is in play, and one cannot stand in its way. We must embrace it.” She emphasized how different the sets had to be, for example, between a drama and this production, a musical. The clever woman closed with a fascinating exchange; she brought over one of the carpenters. He explained the challenges of Guys and Dolls from a theater tradesman’s perspective.
After Linda dismissed the class, Therese perked, “Rindy, a word?”
The other students looked at Therese sympathetically, then left the theater.
Linda asked Therese, “Everything okay?”
Therese smiled, her green eyes firing, “Of course, I just want to discuss a mutual acquaintance with Rindy.”
“Oh, sure. Well, fantastic job, Therese. See ya on Friday, Rindy.”
“Goodbye, Professor Bannister,” said Rindy. She hugged her notebook like a shield, standing before the daunting fairy. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Rindy, I apologize for my gruffness on Monday. I want to start over.”
Rindy felt the tension washing away. “Oh, okay. Uhm — “
Therese knew what she wanted to say. “I think you should meet your mother, Rindy. Would you like to come to our apartment for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Does she know about this?”
“Not yet; I don’t want to disappoint her if you choose not to accept the invitation. There will be no repercussions if you decline. Perhaps you’d rather think about it for a week or two. And please, I can only imagine how difficult this decision might be.”
“It’s not difficult at all. Yes, I’ll dine with you.”
“Great. And Thursday works for you?”
“It will be a perfect time. May I bring something?”
“No. I’ll take care of everything. My workflow is at the point where I can take tomorrow afternoon off. Do you like roast beef?”
“I love it.”
“Good. Can you be there at five for drinks before dinner?”
“I can…my last class ends at four.”
Therese extended a plain white envelope. “Here is our address and cab fare. I don’t want you walking all over Manhattan alone at night.”
“Oh, I do it all the time, but thanks. That’s very generous, Miss Belivet.”
“My pleasure. See you at five tomorrow night?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, have a great day, sweetie.”
“I will, you, too. Goodbye.”
“Bye-bye.”
Rindy left on Cloud 9. ‘Sweetie,’ she called me sweetie.
*****
Therese had asked the doorman to call her after Carol got in the elevator, so the 32-year-old stood in the hall with their door open, ready to greet the love of her life. Carol exited the lift at a quarter to six. “Well, hello,” smiled Carol. “You’ve dressed for dinner. Are we going out?”
“No, I’m cooking. There’s a pot roast in the oven.”
Carol whisked by Therese and inhaled. “Yes, there is. Mmm, lovely.”
She turned to Therese as her love closed and locked the door. Therese anticipated their usual affectionate greeting, so she immediately announced, “And we have a guest for dinner.”
Carol perked, “Oh?” She paused, then glanced down the entryway anxiously. But she saw no one.
Therese helped Carol with her coat, then half-spun the woman to face her. Therese checked her out. “You look great…see.” She shifted them to the hall’s mirror.
Carol nodded in agreement at the reflections but frustratedly mouthed, Who?
Therese smiled, took her arm, and walked Carol into the living room.
Rindy stood by the couch. The college girl had fretted about what to wear. Seasonally, March 4th is so transitional. Rindy chose her Jaeger wool suit in muted gold frieze; underneath was a sleeveless white sweater.
Carol was struck, but she recognized her daughter, “Rindy?”
“Mommy?” trembled Rindy.
Therese had played through many scenarios but had not imagined what indeed transpired. The mother and daughter rushed to each other and embraced. They quaked as they sobbed over each other’s shoulders. Therese stood back; she’d give them all the time in the world. “I’ll check on the roast.”
When they did push apart, Carol still clutched Rindy’s arms, “My little girl is all grown up…a beautiful woman.”
“Thank you. You look amazing, Mother.”
“Thanks. Therese told me about your school. It sounds exciting.”
“It is. One can attend a second year only by invitation, so I was thrilled last spring when the panel asked me back. I’ll finish in May.
“That’s great, darling.”
“Mommy…uhm…Momma, can we avoid discussing the past tonight? Tell me about your present life, and I’ll do the same.”
“That’s a beautiful idea, Rindy. Oh, is that wine you’re drinking?”
“Yes, ma’am. Therese told me what she was preparing tonight, so I picked up a bottle of red.”
Therese walked in with two glasses of Merlot. “Here you go, Blondie. Your daughter picked an excellent one.”
Carol chuckled with delight, “Thank you, Therese, and thank you, Nerinda.”
Therese held up her glass. “To reunions and love.”
The glasses clinked, the eyes sparkled, and the three women bonded.
*****
Therese would create Tony-worthy sets for Guys and Dolls. She’d get paint on her nose and sawdust in her hair.
Rindy would experience the labor of love that goes into making a Broadway show.
Carol would give Rindy a tour of her business, Longbow Furniture. Carol traded only in antiques, so a stroll through her three floors was a journey through history. Rindy was enthralled. “I’m so proud of you, Momma.”
Alas, there would be heated exchanges; some wounds were deep. But Carol and Rindy made up, cried out their pain, and became all the stronger for it.
Carol and Therese sat side by side on the first Friday in June as they watched Rindy graduate.
The three flew to Italy a week later. They took their time, taking in Rome, Florence, and Venice. It was the trip of a lifetime, yet the first of a lifetime of trips.
Rindy completed two more years of higher education, these at Tisch in New York. She landed a bit part in 1969; it caught the eye of young DeNero. He admired her talent, beauty, and spunk; an introduction to Scorsese resulted.
Carol and Therese subtly held hands in 1975 while viewing the newborns of New York-Presbyterian Hospital’s maternity ward. “That’s her,” glowed Carol. Rindy’s baby girl, Belle, slept angelically.