“You didn’t,” Dolly said, giggling. “I almost feel sorry for him. Here, let’s get you dressed. I gave the maid five dollars to keep people out for fifteen minutes, so let’s get to work.”
Aria removed her long raincoat, then untied her skirt so it fell to the floor. It was made of cheap white satin, tight across her hips and slit from her hip to the floor. The slit and the hem were covered with three layers of one-foot-wide gathered nylon that was sprinkled with dots of red and white glitter. The white satin halter top left her stomach bare. Red satin ribbon trimmed the waist and halter. The sleeves were three layers of nylon dotted with more glitter.
On her arms were gaudy red bracelets that reached from wrist to halfway up her forearm. Around her neck she wore fourteen strings of cut-glass beads that hung almost to her waist.
But the pièce de résistance was the headdress of five seven-inch-wide nylon flowers and a half-moon piece of cardboard covered in glitter set on top of a white satin turban. The earrings were sewn to the turban.
“Now, if we can get this thing on,” Dolly said, holding the headdress aloft. She halted when, behind them, a toilet flushed. “I didn’t check,” Dolly whispered miserably.
Out of the stall came a pretty woman, tall, slim, with dark chestnut hair and wearing a stunning draped, black Molyneux. She had beautiful skin that refused to tell her age.
Both Dolly and Aria stood frozen, Dolly with the turban held above Aria’s head.
“Is there to be a show tonight?” the woman asked.
“An impromptu one,” Aria answered.
“Oh. May I help with that?” she asked Dolly, referring to the turban.
“Sure.”
The woman adjusted Aria’s hair in the back and pulled the turban in place. “Is it heavy?”
“Not bad,” Aria said. “I guess I’m ready.”
“Oh no, my dear,” the woman said. “Your makeup isn’t nearly enough; your face is lost against the glitter. I have a few cosmetics with me. May I assist?”
Obediently Aria sat down in front of the mirror and the woman went to work.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I take it this has to do with a man.”
Aria didn’t say a word but Dolly let go. “It’s her husband. He’s been…well, the SOB has been seeing another woman and Aria and I decided to pay him and his mother back.”
“His mother?” the woman asked.
“She’s some Yankee snob, came down here to give her daughter-in-law the once-over, and J.T. acts like Aria hasn’t got sense enough to pour—”
“Dolly,” Aria cautioned.
“I see,” the woman said, standing back to look at Aria’s face. “I think that’s much better. Now, why don’t I give the maid another five, then I’ll persuade the band to play a little calypso and you can make an entrance?”
“This is awfully kind of you,” Aria said.
“I’ve had a mother-in-law and I have a husband. Don’t ever consider allowing a man to get away with infidelity. I hope he’s very embarrassed and you teach him a good lesson. I have a feeling he’ll not be so neglectful in the future. Oh, what shall I have the band play?”
“I know the words to ‘Chica Chica Boom Chic,’ ‘Tico-Tico,’ and ‘I, Yi, Yi, Yi, Yi, I Like You Very Much.’ ”
“All of my favorites,” the woman said, and they all laughed. “Wait until you hear the music.”
Aria let the calypso music play for a couple of minutes before she burst from the rest room. She had been practicing for days and had seen Carmen’s movie four times, so by the time she entered the ballroom with its sedate lighting, its conservatively dressed matrons, its hushed music and conversation, its polite and genteel laughter, she was Carmen Miranda.
She had a thick Spanish accent and an exaggerated wiggle as she made her way through the astonished crowd.
“You are so cute,” she said to one admiral as she pinched his cheek. “It is so many stars on his shoulder, no?” she said to the admiral’s wife.
One by one the crowd stopped and watched her.
She plopped down on a lieutenant commander’s lap and moved her bottom back and forth. “You want we should chica-chica-boom-boom?”