Dorothy Parker Drank Here by Ellen Meister

made Gavin feel very rich indeed.

 
    1968
    T
here were dozens of names in the Algonquin guest book, and eventually they would all die. When they did, she would be in the Blue Bar, waiting for them.
    For now, she had Johnny B., the young bartender she had months ago convinced to stick around most nights after closing. He was humorless, but at least he no longer fainted at the sight of her. And he was pretty to look at.
    Dorothy Parker sat at the bar, a fresh gin and tonic before her. As she took her first sip, something near the display case caught Johnny’s attention.
    â€œThat’s funny,” he said, staring past her.
    She turned and saw a cloud of glowing pink dust particles hovering above the guest book. Was this the sign she had been waiting for?
    The particles traveled to the doorway and began to merge, taking on the shape of a sylphlike woman in a diaphanous gown.
    Dorothy grinned.
    â€œWhat is it?” Johnny asked.
    â€œPour a double bourbon.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œYou’ll see.”
    As they watched, the form became more real. And then, there she was—a lithe and glamorous star, draped in liquidy satin.
    â€œWell,” said Tallulah Bankhead, “that was quite a ride. And how perfect that it ends here, where it all began.”
    â€œWelcome to hell,” said Dorothy Parker.
    Tallulah approached and kissed her on the cheek. “Darling,” she said in her famously throaty voice, “if this were hell, Louis B. Mayer would be tending bar. Give me a cigarette, and tell me who this divine creature is.”
    â€œJohnny,” Dorothy Parker said, “say hello to Tallulah Bankhead.”
    â€œCharmed,” said Tallulah.
    â€œMiss Bankhead.”
    â€œJohnny sticks around after closing to make me drinks,” Dorothy Parker explained. “And he only fainted the first four times I appeared. Now we’re old friends, aren’t we, dear?”
    â€œYes, Mrs. Parker.”
    â€œFainter or not, I think he’s perfectly lovely.”
    â€œSave your breath, Tallulah. He’s not our type.”
    She paused for a moment as it sunk in. “I see. Pity.”
    â€œHe’s already made you a drink. Bourbon, right?”
    â€œYou are divine, Dot. And Johnny darling, don’t put away that bottle. I plan to be tight as a tick before I make my final exit.” She sat down with a dramatic sweep of silk.
    â€œExit?” said Dorothy Parker. “Please don’t tell me you plan a hasty retreat.”
    â€œDaddy’s been waiting a long time.”
    â€œLet him wait a little longer.”
    â€œI’m not sure how long I can resist, darling. It’s an awfully powerful tug.” She put a hand on her heart. “Oh! Mother is there, too. I can feel it. How glorious.” She closed her eyes. “And my grandparents . . . everyone. They’re all waiting for their Tallulah to come home and throw tantrums again. Isn’t it grand?”
    Dorothy frowned. She would have to distract her old friend.“Remember when you first walked into the Algonquin? You couldn’t have been more than nineteen.”
    â€œSixteen, darling. I was sixteen. Insult me if you like, but don’t make me older than I am. I can take anything but that.”
    â€œAlexander Woollcott took one look at you and said, ‘That girl is going to be trouble.’”
    â€œThat’s
one
review he got right.”
    â€œYou were his pet for a time.”
    â€œAnd I would have bit him on the ass if I had the chance.”
    Dorothy nodded. Aleck could be quite a pill. Still, he had a remarkable heart when it came to his friends. “He got us all to chip in and buy you a new dress.”
    Tallulah laughed. “Oh, yes! I came to New York with only one dress I would dare to be seen in, and hadn’t a dime for food, let alone new clothes. Oh, Woollcott—he was a ghastly critic, but he could be generous.” She