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What a night; A short tale.

Featuring old hollywood and a brown paper wrapped box.

By π™ΊπšŽπš•πš•πš’πšŽ π™³πš˜πšžπšπš‘πšŽπš›πšπš’ ☾Published 3 years ago β€’ 9 min read
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Mocambo 1950's

The year is 1953, The summer breeze is warm and the night sky is full of vibrant hues as the last of the summer sun fades behind hills, And Francesca Romano is coming home. She had spent many years abroad- Learning everything she could about the arts and of history- She attended the finest colleges and ate at the finest restaurants.

Frannie- As she preferred to be called, Had been sent away to avoid scandal- A father whom his unforgivingness matched his temper had nothing but harsh words the last time she saw him- And her mother, The shining gem in her life- The one that blinded her more than the jewelry in which she was clad.

Before Frannie had left for Europe, Her homestead had been the up and coming part of HollyWood- The bright lights never relented and neither did the fighting of her parents. Every night was a screaming match, And by the time she was fifteen- Every night was a party.

She met her closest confidant on the night she first left the β€˜nest’. Her father had given her the slightest permission to go out on the town and Frannie took it with greedy hands. In full irony, Her chaperone was her eldest cousin Roberto who happened to be her guide to the less glamorous of HollyWood.

Her Older cousin had decided that her best introduction to Los Angeles underground Jazz scene would be the club β€œThe Mocambo”. All of her nerves had been washed away the second she heard the sweet sound of the sax and the beautiful voice of a female singer- Of whom she didn’t know the name- Yet.

Francesca would later find out that the wonderful singer held the name β€œElla Fitzgerald”, Whom she would stay a fan of for years to come- Even as she swept her way across Europe.

The young Frannie had all but gravitated in front of the stage, The music slowly drawing her in and making her feel untouched emotions. Her dress swayed along with the music and even though she could feel her cousin’s guarding gaze she felt she could celebrate the small freedoms.

In the time it took for Frannie to dance the night away, She had made friends with a girl of mixed descent. Someone who had all but swooped in to save her from a Clarke Gable wanna-be.

The line β€˜What does it feel like to be the most gorgeous girl in the room?’ radiates in her head every once in a while, When she sees a man with too much confidence.

β€œHold On, Daddy-O, I remember you sayin’ that exact same line to me.” The voice behind her was almost sickly sweet- Almost as beautiful as the one on stage.

Frannie had turned around to meet the girl's gaze and unknowingly locked eyes with her lifelong soul mate.

An hour later and Frannie was at the bar sipping a cocktail with the very same girl, Whom she learned was named Maria Jones- An activist even at her young age, and a singer. Maria had told Frannie how much she admired Ella, And Frannie had opened up about her love for painting.

For years the world had told her that it was un-Ladylike to be an Artist, To love art and all that the muses provide- She had been insulted and berated for her work. It wasn’t until she met Maria that she had the confidence to share it with the world and explore it more.

To her surprise, It was the one aspect of her life that her father actually was proud of. No matter the clothes, Jewels or grades- The only time he had ever admired her or been impressed with her was when it came to her art.

-The Limo ride became almost unrecognizable as they reached a part of town that Francesca couldn’t even remember. Her parents had purchased a more luxurious home than she had expected. Never in her years had she anticipated that her parents would move from the home she had grown in.

She steps out of the shining black vehicle, A woman, No longer a child that needed a chaperone on a simple outing. She was a young woman of twenty two, Educated, Acclaimed, and successful in her art.

Her heels crunch against the gravel as she makes her way to the door, Holding a clutch and a letter- In her hands are the two most important parts of her life.

The door opens with a swing, Her mother offering her a large grin. Pearls glistening around her neck and gloved hands gripping her into a large hug.

β€œNow, Your father is working-But I have your room all together, Your own phone line and everything you wanted.” Her mother’s voice was sweet bliss..

The last time she saw her mother, The always put together women of short stature had tear stains and flushed cheeks as Frannie was practically pulled from her arms and put into a limo.

The pair had phone calls of course, They would talk for hours, Run up the line and the bills. Frannie would tell her mother of her adventures and Her mother would listen and fill Frannie in on her home- Sometimes she would mention her father, And sometimes she wouldn’t.

In all her life, In all her adventures- Frannie had never met anyone she adored quite as much as her mother, Not even her closest friend and confidant. Maybe it was because her mother was both of those things and more, An understanding and kind woman- Who ruled her home with a firm but loving hand.

β€œYour father and I have been so excited for your arrival- I had the staff cook all your favorites, Ziti, Fettuccina, I even made my upside down cake for you.” Frannie listened as her mother gushed and the smile on her own face must have matched the excitement of the matriarch enough that she didn’t have to say anything at all.

She was introduced to a grand staircase that led to the equally as lavish upstairs and subsequently her bedroom. All of her belongings had either come with her in the Limo and had already brought up, Or had been shipped home ahead of time- Leaving the room to be nothing but Frannie oriented.

The room was a moderate size, A four poster bed adorned in silk and cotton, The walls a light tangerine, Her favorite color- Everything was as she hoped it would be and she could almost feel herself relaxing into the comforts of home before she has even put her clutch down.

β€œMama, This is all lovely- I think I need to lay down for a moment..To rest, As you know I have overwhelming jetlag.” Frannie’s explanation came out in a breath as she landed backwards on the soft cushion of her mattress.

Before her mother could make a swift exit, Frannie opened her eyes after a moment of brief relaxation and her eyes lock on a package- Something that stands out against the luxury of her room.

On her bureau, Standing beside all of the perfume and art supplies is a box. The brown paper the parcel is wrapped in stands completely apart from the glass and the gold that the room is designed around.

Frannie pushes herself up onto her shoulders and turns her head to the box and back to her mother-She raises an eyebrow towards her before raising the question;

β€œMama, What's this? Is it from Daddy?” Her curiosity was outweighed by excitement that maybe her father would give her a welcome home gift.

β€œIt was on the porch for you, We had it checked out and brought it upstairs- Apparently it's a surprise.” When her mother finished the vague explanation, She closed the door with a soft click behind her.

With the silence and privacy of the door closing, Frannie did the most unladylike thing she could manage in the dress she's adorning- And rolled off her bed, Surprisingly not breaking an ankle or heel.

She made her way to the box, Eyeing it cautiously- Admiring the delicate knot in which the box was tied, Along with a tag dangling off the corner of the box. Frannie gripped it gently and flipped it to see the inscription.

β€œWelcome Home, See you on sunset and vine- M.J.”

Francesca unwraps the box carefully, and opens it to reveal a dress and two tickets to a show she has yet to hear of- But that was always Maria’s way, She introduced her to all the things the world of Luxury would never offer.

Maria introduced her to the up and coming musicians, Clubs, and Artists- Brought life into her otherwise mundane world that she’s grown up in. For every classical musician that was shoved down her throat, Maria would pop into her life with a new jazz group and a new clothing trend.

Her Confidant would shine radiantly beside her at shows and galleries.They spent years together drinking sub-par martini’s and talking about everything and anything. Maria would give her inspirational quotes, and Francesca would share her ideas for her art and business.

As Frannie donned the dress- and a matching pair of shoes, She couldn’t help the giddy feeling that rose up inside of her. She gripped the letter in her hand and inhaled a deep calming breath before she exited her room and made her way to meet her confidant.

It had been so long since she had been in her home- So long since she had walked the streets of Los Angeles. When she had made it to sunset and vine, The door for her limo opened and revealed the crowded streets and night life that she had adored and missed almost as much as Maria herself.

The moment she steps from the limousine, There is only one person she’s looking for. With the dress that her best friend had generously gifted her- She knew that the person she’d be looking for would be practically glowing in a similar cut β€˜Jean Louis’ designed dress.

In front of the bright lights of the Mocambo, Standing tall in a plum colored β€˜Jean Louis’ dress, Was Maria Jones- Holding only two things, A letter presumably from Frannie and an album.

β€œFinding Maria..” The album title had been a small suggestion- A name thrown around the day before Frannie had left the country years before. She had never in all her wildest dreams thought Maria would use a title that had just been tossed into conversation four years in the past.

β€œTell me, What's it like to be the most gorgeous girl in the room?” Frannie remarks as she approaches her friend.

β€œWell now Daddy-O, I think that's my line.” Maria’s smile is bright and full of relief and joy as she pulls Frannie into a tight embrace.

Francesca pulls away from Maria with a form of energy she hadn’t felt in years, Not only did she feel filled with joy but also pride. After years of seeing her friend walk around the dangerous streets and Jazz clubs, Her best friend was becoming a shining star in HollyWood.

β€œI think you’ll appreciate more than the name, Frannie.” Maria commented with a short laugh as she presented the album more towards Francesca and the light- Upon the paper of the Album cover, Is a portrait done by Frannie.

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About the Creator

π™ΊπšŽπš•πš•πš’πšŽ π™³πš˜πšžπšπš‘πšŽπš›πšπš’ ☾

π™·πšŽπš’! π™Όπš’ πš—πšŠπš–πšŽ πš’πšœ π™ΊπšŽπš•πš•πš’πšŽ πšŠπš—πš πš’ πš πš›πš’πšπšŽ πšŠπš—πš’πšπš‘πš’πš—πš πšŠπš‹πš˜πšžπš πšŽπšŸπšŽπš›πš’πšπš‘πš’πš—πš. 𝙸 πš‘πšŠπšŸπšŽ πš–πšžπšŒπš‘πšπš˜ 𝚜𝚊𝚒 π™±πšžπš πš—πš˜ πš˜πš—πšŽ 𝚝𝚘 πš•πš’πšœπšπšŽπš—.β€’β™₯︎

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