The Cake-Eater's Ice

“5…4…3…”

Jemma’s voice mingled with the crowd as they watched the ball in Times Square slowly drop, ready to welcome in the New Year. She turned to face her roommate, Susan, who seemed to be struggling to stay upright.

“2…1! Happy New Year!” Jemma yelled and clinked glass with Susan before she took another sip of champagne from her glass. Susan downed the rest of her champagne in one gulp and grabbed the nearest male and planted a sloppy kiss on him. Jemma turned away to leave them to it.   

All around her, people were kissing and hugging, but once again, she had no one to kiss. She could have made out with a random stranger just like Susan, but that had never really been her style. Why had she even come to this party? She knew what would happen after the count down. Same thing that happened every year. She waited until Susan came up for air and pulled her aside.

“I’m heading home.”

“What? It’s still early! Come on girl, you got to let loose! Have some fun!”

Jemma smiled, but shook her head. “Are you ok here?”

“Course I am!”

Jemma nodded. “Okay. Be smart!”

“Always!” Susan grinned and nearly tripped over her own feet as she walked away.

Shaking her head, Jemma maneuvered her way through the mass of noisy celebrants out into the brisk night air. Blocks away she could hear the fireworks going off downtown, but she ignored them and tucked her head into the collar of her coat and walked quickly toward her apartment in Georgetown.

Hordes of rambunctious college students, toasting in the New Year clogged the streets and she was glad she had not tried to hail a cab.

“Hey Baby, how about a New Year’s kiss?” slurred a short, burly male, who could not have been more than twenty.

Jemma rolled her eyes and tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arm with a steel like grip. “Hey! Let me go!” She tried to pull away, but he was much stronger than she was.

“I said, kiss me!” Jemma struggled fruitlessly as he pulled her toward him.

“I’m pretty sure you were told to let her go.”

Jemma turned to the owner of the voice and was surprised to find a pair of brilliant blue eyes staring at her assailant.

“Ha. Wait your turn!” The man continued to yank on Jemma’s arm.

Without any further warning, Blue Eyes stepped toward them and twisted the man’s arm painfully behind his back. He instantly let go of Jemma.

“Ok, ok. I stopped. Let me go!”

Blue Eyes released him, and her assailant took off, disappearing into the throng.

Jemma looked at Blue Eyes in surprise and gratitude. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Speaking as someone who used to be one, college boys are complete idiots.”

Jemma smiled. “Yes, they are. I guess it’s my own fault for walking around alone on a night like tonight.”

“Well, I would be happy to walk you to wherever you’re going, if you’d like.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I just really want to get home. Thank you again for your help. Happy New year.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, Jemma turned and fled as quickly as she could in heels. As she retreated, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she should have at least talked to the guy. Unable to stop herself, she looked back. It was too late. Blue Eyes was nowhere to be seen. I guess it wasn’t meant to be.

She reached home and gratefully retreated to her small second story bedroom. Kicking off her black heels, she collapsed on her bed with a heavy sigh. Rolling over to stare out at the night sky, she took a deep breath and tried not to think about Blue Eyes and her total rejection of him. She told herself she was just being cautious, but she knew that was a lie. Next time I have an opportunity like that, I will take it, no matter how scared I am.

With those words echoing through her mind, she quickly faded into a dreamless sleep.

                       *            *            *            *            *

“Jemma! You need to get up. You don’t want to be late!”

Jemma jerked awake at the sound of Susan’s familiar voice. She sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. “What are you talking about, Susan? And why are you in my room?”

“Your room? So, it’s suddenly your room, is it?” Came Susan’s response from where she sat at a small walnut dressing table that she did not recognize.

“Where did that come from?” Jemma demanded, sitting up straighter and pointing to the dressing table.

Susan turned around from her perch in front of the dressing table and faced Jemma with a confused and exasperated look on her face.

Jemma gasped. “Susan, when did you cut your hair?” Susan’s long, wavy brown locks had been shorn off.

Susan’s jaw dropped. “Jemma, I cut it two weeks ago, remember? Before I went home for Christmas.”

“Ha, I think I would have remembered you going all Great Gatsby on me.”

“Great what? What are you talking about, Jemma?”

“Your hair! The bob! The Great Gatsby. The book by F. Scott Fitzgerald! You love that book!”

“I do not have any idea who that is, Jemma! I think you had a little too much giggle water last night.”

Jemma laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, what did you call it?”

“Why are you laughing? You’re acting like you’ve never heard that before.”  

“That’s because I…,” Jemma stopped suddenly, “Susan, what is today?” 

“New Year’s Day of course!”

Jemma sighed in relief. At least she had not lost a day somewhere.

“Can you believe it is 1920?”

Jemma’s stomach dropped. “Excuse me?”

“1920. You go to bed one night and wake up the next day and it is a new decade. After the Great War and all, this one has to better, right?” Susan turned happily back to the mirror and smoothed down a stray hair before pinning a clouche style hat over her soft bob.

For the first time, Jemma became aware of her surroundings. Susan, normally dressed in Bohemian style clothing, was wearing a straight, solid green dress which fell just below her knees with an oversized white collar and t-strap heels to match. Susan was not the only thing different in the room. Two matching metal bed frames stood on opposite sides of the room, with a Queen Anne Style dresser squatting in the corner. Where had all this furniture come from? And that tacky peach damask wallpaper? What was going on here?

1920. That is what Susan had said. The year was 1920. That would explain the outfit and the hair and the furniture. Her anxiety mounting, Jemma looked down at herself, expecting to see the black and green cocktail dress she was wearing when she fell asleep. Her heart sank into her stomach at the sight of the drop waist pajamas with oversized arm holes, pockets, and banded pant legs.

Jemma jumped off the bed, staring around the room in dismay.

“What on earth is the matter?” Susan asked.

“I don’t understand. How did I wake up here? Last night, we went to that party and then…then…”

“We came home and went to bed,” Susan finished for her. “It was a swell party. You seemed to have a particularly good time.”

“I did?”

“I’ll say. That looker with the blue eyes? He seemed like quite a catch.”

“Blue eyes?” A handsome face with startling blue eyes flashed through her mind and she sighed with relief. Blue eyes had rescued her from that frat boy, not that she would ever admit it, and then she had gone home and fallen asleep. I’m dreaming. She thought with relief. That’s all this is. A dream.

“I can’t remember where I was supposed to meet Blue Eyes.” Jemma found it strange that even in her dream she was calling him that.

“You said you were going ice skating.”

“Right of course.” I paused for a moment. “Susan, do you think you could come with me, at least at the beginning?”

“Are you that nervous?” Susan smiled.

You have no idea. “I guess I am.”

“Of course, I will! He does seem like a cake-eater, so it might be best if I come anyway.”

“Cake-eater?” Jemma asked, trying not to laugh.

“You know, a lady’s man. You really should keep up with the newest slang.”

Jemma grinned. “Yes, I should.”

“Now let’s find you something to wear.” 

Susan opened the door to the small closet, and Jemma was shocked to see a row of nursing uniforms. “Nursing uniforms?”

Susan stared at her. “We are both in nursing school at Georgetown, remember?”

Jemma shook her head.

Susan held a dress out to me.  “Try this blue and orange gingham.”

Gingham. The word makes me cringe. Jemma changed into the dress and turned to look in the mirror. She drew in a sharp breath. The woman staring back at her seemed like a stranger with row of bangs and bob with short curls close to her head. “I look ridiculous.”

“Nonsense. You look terrific. Come on!” Susan dragged her down the narrow stairs, where they quickly bundled up against the cold, and hurried out the door into the bright sunshine.     

Jemma stared at everything around her as they walked. She felt like she was on a movie set. Everyone was dressed in period clothing and drove old fashioned cars, although the only one she recognized was the Model-T Ford. 

They boarded a streetcar and rode all the way to the National Mall. As soon as Jemma saw the Lincoln Memorial appear, she felt strangely calm. Everything else might be different, but this, this was still DC. After deboarding the streetcar, Jemma let Susan lead the way to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and suddenly there he was, as handsome as I remembered him. Blue Eyes.

“Hi there, I’m Susan. I am Jemma’s roommate.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Susan. I’m Patrick.”

Jemma sighed with relief to hear his name. “Hi Patrick.”

“Hello Jemma.” His deep voice sent a tingle down her spine that she had never felt before.

“Shall we go ice skating?”

Jemma smiled. Despite herself, she liked him and unlike last night, this was just a dream, so it did not matter if she was careful or not. “Yes.”

“I’ll meet you back here in an hour,” said Susan.

“Only an hour?” Patrick asked with a wink.

“Cake-Eater,” Susan mouthed to Jemma.

Jemma shrugged and allowed Patrick to place his hand on her back to steer her in the right direction. She felt the tingle on her spine again at his touch.

“What brought you to the big city?”

“I go to school at Georgetown University.”

“Wow. I didn’t think they allowed women.”

Jemma did not bother trying to hide her irritation. “They don’t. Apparently, the only worthwhile area to educate women is in nursing.”

“Good to know, in case I ever get sick.”

Jemma laughed. “You are quite the smooth talker, aren’t you? I imagine you are used to girls falling into your arms.”

Patrick grinned. “I can’t help it if dames love me.”

“You will forgive me if I am not one of them.”

Patrick looked at her sideways with great interest. “You’re not just some Dumb Dora, are you?”

What in the world is a Dumb Dora? Jemma wondered, wisely refraining from sharing her thoughts. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, most Dames I meet act like there is nothing between their ears, but not you. I like that.”

Jemma smiled, a real genuine smile. Maybe there was more to this guy than she first thought.

They arrived at the reflection pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial and for the next hour, they laughed and talked, as they skated in endless loops up and down. Patrick was a prefect gentleman, although he took every possible opportunity to touch her back or hold her hand.

“We should probably head back,” Jemma finally said, “Before Susan calls the Police.”

“Ha, we would not want that.”

They sat down to remove their skates. Jemma quickly pulled hers off and put her t-strap heels back on. “So, what do you do for a living?”

Patrick finished tying his shoes and stood up, offering her a hand and they started walking back toward the Lincoln Memorial. “Well, I went to Harvard…”

“Harvard?” Jemma was impressed.

“Don’t be too excited. To be honest, I only went because that’s what my father wanted.”

“What did you…”

“There’s your roommate,” Patrick interrupted.

Sure enough, there was Susan sitting on the steps of the Memorial, ankles crossed, fingers tapping her leg impatiently. Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw them. “There you are, I was beginning to wonder.”

“I have returned her, safe and sound,” Patrick smiled. “How about I treat you Dolls to a hot dog?”

Susan squealed in delight.

“Sounds good,” Jemma replied.

“Prefect. There is a cart around the corner. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he was out of earshot, Susan pounced on Jemma. “Well?”

“It was fun. He is very nice and a perfect gentleman, but he was very evasive about his past and his career.”

Susan’s eyes got wide. “You don’t think he’s a gangster? Or maybe a grifter?”

Jemma ignored her as she watched Patrick reappear with three hot dogs in his left hand, but instead of coming straight back to them, he walked up to a short, bald man leaning against the side of the building. They began speaking and after looking around, the bald man pulled a small package out of his overcoat and hand it to Patrick. After putting it in his own pocket, Patrick passed what looked like a wad of cash to the man’s hand. With a nod, Patrick left the man and made his way back to the girls.

“Fresh hot dogs, as promised,” he said, holding them out to Jemma and Susan with a flourish.

“Who were you talking to over there?” Jemma asked.

Patrick brushed off the question. “Just a co-worker.”  

“Co-worker, huh?” demanded Jemma, “And what was in that package?”

“I…”

“I knew it, you’re a gangster!” Susan exclaimed.

Patrick laughed loudly and heartily. “Is that what you think?”

Jemma scowled at him. “What are we supposed to think with they way you have been acting? You won’t answer questions about your profession, you exchange suspicious packages with a random guy on the street. Who are you?”

“I’m sorry Jemma, I wasn’t trying to be dishonest. I’m a private detective.”

“A gum-shoe? Really?” Susan asked, obviously captivated.

Jemma was not as easily impressed. “Why should we believe that? What was in the package?”

“I was trying to recover some family heirlooms lost due to an unfortunate indiscretion. I had to enlist the aid of some less than savory acquaintances of mine. The package he gave me holds my client’s property.”

“And you paid him,” said Jemma.

“Yes, and if you don’t believe me, look at this.” Patrick pulled out the package and carefully unwrapped it. Nestled on a small piece of black silk was a stunning diamond necklace.

Susan’s jaw dropped. “Look at that ice!”

She reached out to touch it, but Patrick wrapped it back up before she could. “Sorry, but if anything were to happen to this ice, I would lose my credibility and my job.” He put the package back in his coat pocket and reached into his breast pocket. “This might also help.”

Jemma took the offered slip of paper and read it quickly. Sure enough, it said that Patrick Holland was a private detective. She felt like a complete idiot. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why act so mysterious about your education and career?”

“I dropped out of Harvard Law School to be a Detective. My father was furious, and we’ve never talked since. That’s not usually something I discuss when I first meet someone.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“You are rather mistrusting, aren’t you?”

“You could say that, yes,” Jemma smiled sadly.

“Well, you can trust me. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Jemma looked into those blue eyes of his and wanted to believe him. If only this were all real. Suddenly Jemma felt the sky start to spin. Vaguely, she heard Patrick and Susan’s voices crying out to her. The last thing she remembered seeing were those blue eyes before everything went black.

                                             *            *            *            *            *            *            *

“Don’t move. I think you hit your head.”

Jemma heard a familiar voice talking. She opened her eyes slowly and stared in confusion at the dark sky lit with streetlamps, distant fireworks, and the glow of dozens of cell phones. She was surprised she could hear anything over the deafening noise from the revelers. She was back in the present, headed home after the New Year’s Eve countdown, but this was not how she remembered it. She had no memory of falling. She looked around and there right beside was a familiar sight.

“Blue Eyes!” Jemma exclaimed, feeling inexplicably relieved to see him.

He looked startled but smiled. “Well, I’ve been called worse, so I’ll take it. How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Jemma said, “What happened? I remember you getting rid of that drunk guy, but after that…”

“I’m not really sure. You just passed out.”

Jemma shook her head. “Maybe I had too much to drink tonight.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Blue Eyes said.

Jemma smiled and accepted his hand to help her to her feet, a familiar tingle racing up her spine.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Blue Eyes asked.

“Positive.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“No. How about we go somewhere we can talk?”

Blue eyes smiled. “I’d like that. I’m Patrick.”

“Hello Patrick.” Jemma smiled. This year would indeed be different.