(no subject)
Title: What's the Use of Wond'rin
Author: oldwickedsongs
Characters: Carolyn Rothstein, Margaret, AR and mentions of Nucky
Rating: G
Word Count: 1941
Summary: A character study of Nucky and AR's Queens in which Margaret still fights and Carolyn's just tired...or in love, or both.
And something gave him the things that are his, One of those things is you, so When he wants your kisses, You will give them to the lad, And anywhere he leads you, you will walk. And anytime he needs you, You'll go running there like mad. You're his girl and he's your feller, And all the rest is talk.'>
The official story was that Arnold and Carolyn Rothstein were in Atlantic City to celebrate his birthday although no one really seemed to care his birthday was in January and here they were in October. It was also a happy coincidence when they accidentally bumped into Nucky Thompson who was currently hosting four of Washington’s Ohio Gang. As the conversation invariably turned to gambling, no one was surprised when the party was moved from Babette’s and to a suite of the Ritz magically set up for poker. It all appeared seamless and natural which is exactly how Nucky Thompson had wanted it.
In truth, Nucky had organized the entire affair from the time of the Ohio Gang’s (and the Rothstein’s) arrival down to the color of table awaiting them at the suite. He had wanted the Ohio Gang at in his pocket and the best way to do that seemed through their purses. AR, never one to turn down a chance to both show his skill at the table and also put Nucky firmly in his debt had agreed to the arrangement. This only left the four politicians, who after a night of fine liquor and beautiful showgirls had found their courage and moxie was enough to think they could take the Big Bankroll for all his worth.
Those poor, ignorant bastards.
Carolyn almost felt a pang of sympathy as the men chortled and stumbled their way into the suite. Her husband, ever the teetotaler, had lingered at the rear of the group with her, his arm intertwined in hers; spouting his usual empty promise of this would only take a few hours and they could take in an evening stroll on the Boardwalk. She was already dismissing his words in her head but because it comforted him, she smiled and thanked him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Nucky and his so-called concubine Margaret whispering to each other at the head of the group- she knew from the tone and body language there was the beginnings of a war brewing although why she could only guess. After a while of watching them, especially Margaret’s cheeks turn red from emotion; Carolyn began to feel like she was intruding on something intimate and turned her attention back to AR’s words.
In the suit, Carolyn kissed her husband goodnight took his coat and hat and retired to the adjoining room with the other ladies, all of them, she was sure were mistresses. The girls were all painted beautifully in their makeup and fine dresses, with stockings too crisp to be anything but new. All of them had necklaces or collars bejeweled and shimmering in the dim light; a john’s gift, not a husband’s. Husbands for some reason went with small and practical as if a woman becoming a wife somehow diminished her desire for gems and gold. Margaret seemed propelled somehow into the middle ground; she wore expensive but simple jewelry and a dress Carolyn would have guessed was her favorite because of the minor wear of the beading. None of the showgirls would notice; they didn’t have the eye for thrift.
And despite having the richest man in the room; Carolyn became aware of her own dress, plain against the showgirls and uncrowned Queens and bare neck. She had jewelry of course, but hadn’t worn much- to compliment her husband’s understated manner. That was her job there, after all, be the wife of Arnold Rothstein.
She had noted, not without a slightly upturned nose, that Margaret Schroeder had pulled up a seat besides her husband and asked the game to be played. Of course she could. There were women, AR had told her before in a tone resembling distaste that enjoyed hanging on their man as they played and he had no use for them. Carolyn had been wise enough to leave Bobbie Winthrop’s name out of that conversation.
But what happened next surprised Carolyn; never to be outdone AR had smiled, inclined his head and excused himself to sit with his wife. It was such a small act of loyalty that at first, she had thought she misheard him.
There was a mumbling of disappointment and tension that AR seemed oblivious to as he shut the doors behind him and asked the ladies what was the subject of the evening. It was almost two hours into the latest theater shows of Broadway and the latest acts of the Follies when Margaret emerged from the room; her pretty face fixed into an image of gritted dignity.
No sooner than she was seated, then AR was on his feet and entering the room. There was a chorus of laughter at his arrival muted by the closing door.
“Did you not care for the company, Margaret?” Carolyn asked quietly, finally sampling the champagne. When AR was around, she did not drink unless he ordered it for her.
“Not much for the manner of them.” Came the clipped reply with all the dignity of an affronted Queen, scrambling to find her place again. Carolyn knew full well the tone and her heart twisted a little in her chest, causing her to reach over and squeeze Margaret’s wrist. Margaret glanced over at the other ladies who were still tittering about Barrymore and then quietly added. “You don’t take offense here?” She asked, and then pushed on feverishly. Carolyn wondered idly if she approached everything with such passion and if she didn’t- wasn’t she exhausted from the battles. “There is no reason we should be regulated to backrooms and alleyways like we were some painted showgirl picked up for the evening.”
Carolyn’s drink stopped midway to her mouth. She tilted her head to look at her from beneath her eyelids. “Surely as Nucky’s woman we’re not the worst you have had to sit with?”
“That’s not what I meant.” There was another beat. Longer then the first and when she spoke Carolyn knew it was mostly to hear the words out loud instead of confiding in her or letting them run around in her head. “You would think he would trust me by now.”
“I’m sure he trusts you. You might be the only one he does.” Carolyn began, careful to keep her voice dispassionate and cool. “But asking him to prove it at a poker table might not be the best place.” She glanced at the other girls, before adding. “And you’re a fool if you think you are better than these women.”
Margaret looked like she’d been slapped. Carolyn continued to down her drink. “They provide the same thing you do, sweetheart; an escape. And what he can’t get from you, what he won’t ask you for…he’ll get from them.”
“I won’t let him.”
“You don’t get a say. That’s the price you pay for being their only. The wife.” She put the empty glass down and glanced to Margaret. “Take it from a showgirl that was cleaned up and taken home.” Then, as easily as she would have slipped out of a scarf, Carolyn slapped her knees and looked over at the girls, diving into their conversation and leaving Margaret alone with her thoughts.
Author: oldwickedsongs
Characters: Carolyn Rothstein, Margaret, AR and mentions of Nucky
Rating: G
Word Count: 1941
Summary: A character study of Nucky and AR's Queens in which Margaret still fights and Carolyn's just tired...or in love, or both.
And something gave him the things that are his, One of those things is you, so When he wants your kisses, You will give them to the lad, And anywhere he leads you, you will walk. And anytime he needs you, You'll go running there like mad. You're his girl and he's your feller, And all the rest is talk.'>
The official story was that Arnold and Carolyn Rothstein were in Atlantic City to celebrate his birthday although no one really seemed to care his birthday was in January and here they were in October. It was also a happy coincidence when they accidentally bumped into Nucky Thompson who was currently hosting four of Washington’s Ohio Gang. As the conversation invariably turned to gambling, no one was surprised when the party was moved from Babette’s and to a suite of the Ritz magically set up for poker. It all appeared seamless and natural which is exactly how Nucky Thompson had wanted it.
In truth, Nucky had organized the entire affair from the time of the Ohio Gang’s (and the Rothstein’s) arrival down to the color of table awaiting them at the suite. He had wanted the Ohio Gang at in his pocket and the best way to do that seemed through their purses. AR, never one to turn down a chance to both show his skill at the table and also put Nucky firmly in his debt had agreed to the arrangement. This only left the four politicians, who after a night of fine liquor and beautiful showgirls had found their courage and moxie was enough to think they could take the Big Bankroll for all his worth.
Those poor, ignorant bastards.
Carolyn almost felt a pang of sympathy as the men chortled and stumbled their way into the suite. Her husband, ever the teetotaler, had lingered at the rear of the group with her, his arm intertwined in hers; spouting his usual empty promise of this would only take a few hours and they could take in an evening stroll on the Boardwalk. She was already dismissing his words in her head but because it comforted him, she smiled and thanked him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Nucky and his so-called concubine Margaret whispering to each other at the head of the group- she knew from the tone and body language there was the beginnings of a war brewing although why she could only guess. After a while of watching them, especially Margaret’s cheeks turn red from emotion; Carolyn began to feel like she was intruding on something intimate and turned her attention back to AR’s words.
In the suit, Carolyn kissed her husband goodnight took his coat and hat and retired to the adjoining room with the other ladies, all of them, she was sure were mistresses. The girls were all painted beautifully in their makeup and fine dresses, with stockings too crisp to be anything but new. All of them had necklaces or collars bejeweled and shimmering in the dim light; a john’s gift, not a husband’s. Husbands for some reason went with small and practical as if a woman becoming a wife somehow diminished her desire for gems and gold. Margaret seemed propelled somehow into the middle ground; she wore expensive but simple jewelry and a dress Carolyn would have guessed was her favorite because of the minor wear of the beading. None of the showgirls would notice; they didn’t have the eye for thrift.
And despite having the richest man in the room; Carolyn became aware of her own dress, plain against the showgirls and uncrowned Queens and bare neck. She had jewelry of course, but hadn’t worn much- to compliment her husband’s understated manner. That was her job there, after all, be the wife of Arnold Rothstein.
She had noted, not without a slightly upturned nose, that Margaret Schroeder had pulled up a seat besides her husband and asked the game to be played. Of course she could. There were women, AR had told her before in a tone resembling distaste that enjoyed hanging on their man as they played and he had no use for them. Carolyn had been wise enough to leave Bobbie Winthrop’s name out of that conversation.
But what happened next surprised Carolyn; never to be outdone AR had smiled, inclined his head and excused himself to sit with his wife. It was such a small act of loyalty that at first, she had thought she misheard him.
There was a mumbling of disappointment and tension that AR seemed oblivious to as he shut the doors behind him and asked the ladies what was the subject of the evening. It was almost two hours into the latest theater shows of Broadway and the latest acts of the Follies when Margaret emerged from the room; her pretty face fixed into an image of gritted dignity.
No sooner than she was seated, then AR was on his feet and entering the room. There was a chorus of laughter at his arrival muted by the closing door.
“Did you not care for the company, Margaret?” Carolyn asked quietly, finally sampling the champagne. When AR was around, she did not drink unless he ordered it for her.
“Not much for the manner of them.” Came the clipped reply with all the dignity of an affronted Queen, scrambling to find her place again. Carolyn knew full well the tone and her heart twisted a little in her chest, causing her to reach over and squeeze Margaret’s wrist. Margaret glanced over at the other ladies who were still tittering about Barrymore and then quietly added. “You don’t take offense here?” She asked, and then pushed on feverishly. Carolyn wondered idly if she approached everything with such passion and if she didn’t- wasn’t she exhausted from the battles. “There is no reason we should be regulated to backrooms and alleyways like we were some painted showgirl picked up for the evening.”
Carolyn’s drink stopped midway to her mouth. She tilted her head to look at her from beneath her eyelids. “Surely as Nucky’s woman we’re not the worst you have had to sit with?”
“That’s not what I meant.” There was another beat. Longer then the first and when she spoke Carolyn knew it was mostly to hear the words out loud instead of confiding in her or letting them run around in her head. “You would think he would trust me by now.”
“I’m sure he trusts you. You might be the only one he does.” Carolyn began, careful to keep her voice dispassionate and cool. “But asking him to prove it at a poker table might not be the best place.” She glanced at the other girls, before adding. “And you’re a fool if you think you are better than these women.”
Margaret looked like she’d been slapped. Carolyn continued to down her drink. “They provide the same thing you do, sweetheart; an escape. And what he can’t get from you, what he won’t ask you for…he’ll get from them.”
“I won’t let him.”
“You don’t get a say. That’s the price you pay for being their only. The wife.” She put the empty glass down and glanced to Margaret. “Take it from a showgirl that was cleaned up and taken home.” Then, as easily as she would have slipped out of a scarf, Carolyn slapped her knees and looked over at the girls, diving into their conversation and leaving Margaret alone with her thoughts.