It is late Friday afternoon when Sally checks into New York's legendary Algonquin Hotel on 44th Street. After taking a peek at her rather quaint fifth floor room to drop off her luggage, she returns to the famous oak-paneled lobby decorated with Hirschfeld drawings of theater and literary personages. There she settles into the lobby's antique decor, motions for the waiter, and, deciding that a scotch and water is too heavy for the afternoon, orders a daiquiri, an Algonquin specialty.
As Sally leafs through the current New Yorker magazine, she is approached by a young man she recognizes from the American airliner she took from Cincinnati to New York.
“Hello,” he says. “I’m Judd Willoughby. I saw you on the plane. May I join you?”
“I guess so. My name is Sally Walker. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to while I’m waiting for my uncle.”
“I’m waiting for someone too. My brother Tom…Mr. Madison Avenue.”
“I’ve just been sitting here losing myself in the lobby’s charming atmosphere. I try to imagine how it was when Dorothy Parker was here chatting with Robert Benchley.”
“They were close, huh?
“Yes, or so I read in a book about the Algonquin Roundtable. They were charter members.”
“What sparked your interest in the Algonquin? As young as you are, I’d think that you’d be--
“Don’t say it.” Sally laughs and sips her daiquiri. "After all, I am almost eighteen."
“I’m sorry,” says Judd. “I didn’t mean to say that young girls don’t read. I guess I’m a little surprised that you’d be exploring such ancient history. I mean, that’s what I do…write about dead people.”
“Well, you appear to be a little young to be an archaeologist.”
“I’m a twenty-four-year-old historian, on sabbatical from the University of Kentucky. Currently I’m concentrating on the people and places along Chesapeake Bay.”
“I guess we have something in common. My father, and the uncle I’m waiting for, were born near the mouth of the Chesapeake.”
“On the Virginia peninsula?”
“Yes, in Watertown, my father promised to write a book about it if I help with the research.”
“I should be so lucky. Will his book be fact or fiction?”
“Mostly fiction, I think.”
“I’d like to meet him on my next trip to Virginia.”
“He lives in Cincinnati.”
“That’s even better. I live across the river in northern Kentucky.”
“Interesting. Clooney country.” Sally becomes more attentive.
“Maybe we could talk about it tomorrow at dinner.”
“Sorry, I’m leaving at noon.”
“Then what about breakfast? Please.”
“I’d love to, but let’s make it early.”
“Eight o’clock?”
“Yes.” Sally sips her drink. “Oh--is that your brother coming this way?”
Judd stands and greets his brother. “Hi, Tommy.”
“Hi, Judd.”
“Tom, meet Sally Walker. We flew in on the same plane.”
“Hello, Sally. Would you join us for dinner?”
“Thanks…but I’m having dinner with my uncle and a friend.”
“Well, enjoy,” says Tom.
“Sally, I’ll see you for breakfast. Eight o’clock, here in the lobby.”
“Thank you, Judd. You two have fun tonight.”
As Judd and his brother leave the hotel, Sally smiles at the thought of meeting such a good looking and nice guy on her first day in the big city. Then she returns to her room to change for dinner.
At 7:30 Sally joins Lewis and Phil in the lobby. Phil is a tall man with blond wavy hair, a few years younger than her Uncle Lewis.
Lewis hugs his niece and says, “Sally, you’re even lovelier than the time we met in Virginia. Do you remember?”
“How could I forget that pretty red hair, Uncle--no, Lewis, Dad told me not to call you Uncle.”
“Your dad was right. Call me Lew. And call this good-looking guy, Phil.”
“All right…Lew.” She kisses her uncle on the cheek and extends her hand to Phil. “I’m so glad to meet you, Phil.”
Phil says, “Lew, are you sure this young woman is not in pictures?”
Sally laughs. “I’m just a little college girl,” she says.
“Not so little,” says Phil.
“Okay, buster. Enough with the flirting.” says Lew. “Let’s take this little college girl to dinner.”
Outside the hotel, Lew steps into 44th Street, hails a cab, and directs the driver to La Grenouille on 52nd Street. At the restaurant they are greeted by the maitre d’ who leads them to their banquette, Lew and Sally in one seat and Phil seated across the table. Immediately, the waiter appears.
“Good evening, Henri,” says Lewis.
“Bonsoir, monseurs et mademoiselle.”
Lewis orders Champagne cocktails, then turns to Sally. “I’m so glad to see you, Sal. How’s Cliff? Still fleecing the Cincinnati Dutch of their marketing dollars?”
“Dad always speaks well of you Uncle Lewis.”
“Give the redhead hell, Sally,” says Phil.
Lewis laughs. “Sally knows I’m kidding. I love Cliff like a brother.”
“I know,” says Sally, as she squeezes his hand. “Dad sends love.”
When the waiter returns to the table, Lewis orders dinner for the three of them, beginning with Little Necks Corsini. “The clams are baked,” he says, “and if you like French food, Sally, this is the best in New York.”
“Or anywhere,” adds Phil.
“Mother introduced me to French cuisine in San Francisco,” says Sally, “and I love it--garlic and all.”
During their dinner of Grilled Dover Sole, Phil lays his hand on Lew’s shoulder and says, “Sally, how’d you like to see your uncle on Broadway?”
“I’d love it! Is it going to happen? When? Tell me!”
Phil and Lew laugh at her enthusiasm.
“Please, Uncle Lew. Broadway?”
“Yes. Phil is going to direct a revival of A Thousand Clowns.”
“Wonderful. I loved the movie with…Jason Robards and what’s-her-name…Barbara Harris. Dad has the movie in his CD collection,”
“Well,” says Phil, “Lew is going to do the Jason Robards role.”
“Oh Lew! I’m so happy, and proud. Dad’ll be too.”
“I’m also happy about it, Sally. Thanks to Phil.”
“He has earned the part,” says Phil, casting a big smile at Lew, “and he’ll be great in it. I can see him now in that cluttered one-room apartment, saying--”
“A man never has too many eagles,” says Sally.
“You really do know the play,” says Phil. “We should open in the spring of '78.”
“Great. I’m so excited. Reserve seats for Dad and me…and maybe Mom.”
“Count on it,” says Lew. “That’ll be one way to see my big brother.”
“What about the other brothers?”
“They wouldn’t be interested. Besides, I don’t think of them as family.”
“Why?” says Sally.
“Didn’t Cliff tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Lew hesitates, then says. “They’re only half-brothers who never really accepted Cliff and me…and Steve. You see, the old man was married twice. When his first wife died he married her cousin, who became my mother. He needed someone to take care of his house and help raise his three boys. We--Cliff, Steve, me--we were always thought of as Mother’s kids…outcasts.”
“I never knew that. So that we don’t bore poor Phil, you’ll have to tell me all about it later.”
“Ask your dad to tell you.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Now, Sally, when do you plan to be in New York again?
“Oh, soon I hope. I start at Princeton next year. when I'm an old lady of nineteen. But I’ll return as soon as Dad has the time to come with me.”
“Maybe by then the weather will be warm and we can welcome you to our house at the beach in East Hampton.”
“Oh, good. You two own a beach house?”
“Not own,” says Phil. “We rent it from some friends.”
“So we expect to see you in East Hampton,” says Lew. “Phil will prepare a special dinner. He’s a gourmet cook. There’s no end to his talents.”
Phil squeezes Lew’s hand. “Thanks, Lew.”
Sally says, “I’m glad to see you two so, so…”
“So much in love?” says Phil.
“Yes…so much in love,” says Sally. “Dad will be happy, too.”
“I’m going to like your dad,” says Phil.
“I know you will,” says Lew. “On that happy note, I think it’s time to take Sally back to the hotel.”
“Yes, please, because I have a breakfast date at 8:30! With a young man who lives across the river from Cincinnati. We flew to New York on the same plane.”
“Hey, you can’t afford to stand up your new friend,” says Lew.
“No,” says Sally. “He’s nice.”
Phil pays the check and they exit the restuarant with hugs all around.
End
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