Free Such a Dance by Kate McMurray Page A

Rhodes played the melody, and even Eddie had to admit it was a good song. It suited Marian’s strengths pretty well, too, which surprised him because he couldn’t imagine how Rhodes would have picked up on them from her regular routine. Eddie had heard her natural singing voice dozens of times, but she rarely used it in their routines. The Doozies act didn’t call for a lot of held notes or elaborate melodies. That’s what this song was, though, a really lovely song about the way the singer’s heart soared when she thought of her lover, how she thought of warm weather and flowers even when it was the coldest day of winter.
    Really, it was lovely, and it was the sort of love song that made the listener long for a love like that in his life. A dream, in other words.
    Rhodes played the melody a few times so that Marian could get a feel for it. Then he played the accompaniment and sang the song himself. Rhodes’s voice was thin and reedy, not up to the task of the song. Marian jumped in and sang the last verse with him. Jimmy’s face lit up as she sang, which Eddie understood; her voice rang clear as a bell.
    “Marvelous,” Jimmy said, clapping. “That was just lovely. I think this is the song, Marian. I really do.”
    “It’s good,” Marian agreed. “What do you think, Eddie?”
    “It sounds lovely,” he said, not wanting to give away that he wasn’t completely comfortable with this song’s introduction to their routine.
    “Eddie, please tell me what you think. I want your honest opinion.”
    He sighed and stood up. “It’s a good song, Marian, and your voice sounds marvelous. I had quite forgotten how well you can sing. You’ll really wow the crowd next season.”
    Marian opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, but she didn’t get the opportunity.
    “I was thinking,” Jimmy said, walking over to stand next to Marian, “that we might try the song out later this month. See how the audience reacts to it.”
    That caught Eddie’s attention. He turned toward Jimmy, trying to decide if he had the audacity—or the desire to risk his job—to protest.
    “You would change the show in the middle of the season?” Marian asked.
    “Just a small change,” Jimmy said. “You still do your act, but I was thinking that instead of ‘Turkey in the Park,’ you sing this song. Sing it to Eddie, since he’s supposed to be your husband. Then the two of you dance off the stage together. What do you think?”
    Eddie nodded, but he kept his face neutral. “So I would just sit there while she sings?”
    “It’s just one measly number, Cotton,” said Jimmy.
    Eddie didn’t like it. He turned to Marian to see what she thought.
    “We could just try it, Eddie,” she said. “A couple of performances. If it bombs, we go back to the old routine. Yeah?” She looked around to see if anyone else agreed.
    Jimmy nodded enthusiastically. Eddie wanted to make Marian happy, but he couldn’t help but think that he was being pushed out of the act. Jimmy threw an arm around Eddie and escorted him out of the room.
    Eddie hated Jimmy’s proximity; the man smelled of sour sweat and cigar smoke, not the most pleasant combination. But Eddie went with him into the hallway, where Jimmy said, “Look, Cotton, you know I love your act. You and Marian are one of the most popular acts I got. But if you don’t change, you get stale.”
    “I understand, sir.”
    “This number is going to make your act, you got that? And let’s keep the lady happy, eh? She wants this, Cotton, but she won’t say yes unless you do.”
    Eddie glanced back into the room, where Marian was talking excitedly with Walter Rhodes. She did look happy.
    “All right. We’ll do it.”
    Jimmy clapped Eddie on the back. “That’s a good fella. I’ll let her know. Now scram for a bit so I can talk to Marian.”
    Eddie was frustrated that he was getting kicked out of his practice room, but he nodded and said, “I’ll just be down the hall.”
    Jimmy