"Love is Enough" follows my earlier short story "Oscar's Place." It tells the tale of a hipster playwright and two (mostly) friendly ghosts. The story includes nudity, adult situations, and flapper slang—lots of flapper slang.
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1.
"It's cold out here," Gabby said, and wrapped her hands around her bare shoulders. She had to shout to be heard over the approaching sirens. "You'd think the old place would burn hotter than this."
"It's the rain," Hannah said.
Moments before—or maybe a little longer, it was hard for them to tell—they'd been happily curled up with their bottle of gin. It was all just another night until the big blast. Everything they were used to went crashing down around them, and they found themselves standing on the sidewalk on a rainy night.
"You look cold," Hannah said. "Your nipples is sticking out." She pushed the bottle at Gabby and looked around. "Where to?"
Gabby covered her tits with one arm, took the bottle, and used it to motion to the old theater on the opposite street corner. "I did a dance review in there once," she said. "It wasn't the Palace, but it was okay."
"Then let's get a wiggle on," Hannah said. They ran through the fire trucks and the working men. They jumped over the hoses that snaked across the street and stopped by the box office under the darkened marquee.
Gabby handed the bottle back to Hannah, shielded her eyes from the flashing red lights, and peered through a window. "They have a play or somethin' goin' on," she said, "But it's all closed up."
"So?" Hannah asked, and demonstrated what she meant by reaching through the window.
"I'd rather be invited," Gabby said. "Sorta, anyway."
A round man in an overcoat hurried around the corner, just to be stopped by a policeman. "I'm the manager here," he said and pointed to the theater. "The alarms went off. What the hell happened?"
The officer waved toward the ruined hotel and said, "Everything we know you can see as easy as I can. You can have a minute to make sure the place is secure, but we need you out of here."
Hannah and Gabby squeezed through the door with Mack—the manager. Gabby patted his ass, and the way he jumped made Hannah laugh. Mack spun around to see who laughed, but Gabby pulled Hannah away. They stopped in the lobby, and Gabby said, "The house is this way. The dressin' rooms and all are under the stage."
They found their way from backstage into the dungeons below, and then explored from dressing room to dressing room. "It's warm here," Hannah said, and dropped onto a threadbare sofa in the largest room.
"I think the boiler's next door, or somethin'," Gabby said. "It used to get real hot and stinky in here with all the girls." She settled next to Hannah. "This thing is soft, and I'm tired." She put her head down on Hannah's shoulder and slept. They couldn't tell from the dressing room, but it was the next afternoon when a key turned in the lock and woke them with a start.
A dark-haired young man pushed the door open and reached around the frame to turn on the lights. Hannah and Gabby blinked against the glare and watched. He looked tall, but maybe that was because he was thin. He checked the waste baskets and opened some drawers in the dressing table, and left the door open behind him.
Gabby pushed herself away from Hannah and started after him before Hannah grabbed her arm. She kept her voice was low, so he couldn't hear. "Where're you going?" she asked.
"I think he's cute," Gabby whispered. "I wanna find out who he is." Hannah rolled her eyes, but she followed along. He wore a dark suit with a jacket that was too tight and pants that were too short. He unlocked each room, turned on the lights, and sniffed the air.
Gabby was peeking over his shoulder into the men's dressing room when he turned. He walked right through her then stopped and searched for the cold draft he'd felt. He had dark-rimmed glasses. His hair was tousled, and it had been days since he last shaved.
"Looks rough," Hannah said. He turned back to see who was there, but the corridor was empty, so he shook his head and went on.
They peered around the corner where he'd disappeared and found him talking into his hand, or something like that. "It's ready down here," he said. "I'll open the back door and let them in." He ran the stairs up to stage right two-at-a-time.
"I bet he's the assistant manager or somethin'," Gabby said. They didn't have more time before complaining voices and the sound of footsteps on the stairs chased them down the corridor and up to stage left.
The play opened the night before to a good reception, but on that Saturday night the crowd buzzed more about last night's hotel explosion then they did about the play. Maybe that was to be expected, but it still wasn't good to be upstaged by the news.
Hannah and Gabby slipped into the sound booth during the show and watched over the tech's shoulder. The director banged through the door after the curtain closed and thanked the crew before he went to meet his cast on stage. They were still talking after the house emptied and the curtain opened. The actors were agitated, and the director did what he could to make them feel better. It was a distracted crowd. That's all it was.
The theater was quiet again after the show, and a single light over center stage was all that lit the house. Hannah noticed one last person left in the theater. It was the assistant manager. He sat alone in the balcony with his feet up on the seat in front of him, and he snored. "Let's go see," Gabby said.
Gabby settled into the seat on his right and Hannah took the other side. His eyebrow twitched. He snorted and wiggled his lips. Gabby inhaled the scent that rose from his neck and nodded her approval, so Hannah sniffed and wrinkled her nose. To each their own.
"He smells better than the fellas that worked at the hotel," Hannah said, and the man between them stirred. He put his hand on something in his lap that looked like a notebook, and he shifted in the chair.
Gabby grinned at Hannah and slipped her hand into his suit jacket. First, she explored for his wallet, and then she was distracted by the muscles she found under his shirt. Maybe he was thin, but that wasn't the whole story. Hannah watched Gabby's expression and rolled her eyes.
His eyes fluttered open, and Gabby jerked her hand back. He stared at the ornate ceiling for a moment before the girls gradually appeared in the seats next to him. He looked from Gabby to Hannah and back again then shook his head to clear his confusion. It didn't work. "The theater's closed," he said. "What are you doing here?"
"We're new here," Gabby said. "I'm Gabby. The blond doll there is Hannah. Who're you?"
"Trevor," he said. "Trevor Johnson. I'm TJ." He said it without thinking then straightened himself and put on an officious tone. "You need to leave."
