The gold vinyl booths at Nye’s Supper Club and Lounge were still the 1954 originals. Lit by old hexagon-shaped lamps with multi-colored protruding glass, Nye’s was a living relic from the age of the Rat Pack.
Plates of bleeding prime rib and au gratin potatoes continually paraded out of the kitchen by veteran waitresses with beehive hairdos who still referred to everyone as “honey” or “sweetheart.” Like the menu, the entertainment hadn’t changed in nearly half a century. Eunice Enivel was still perched at the large organ near the bar, and she plucked out songs that were sung by old regulars and the college kids who now flocked to the bar. Madame E, as Eunice made everyone call her, played every day of the year except Christmas Eve, New Year’s Day, and her birthday, February 16.
At 88, Madame E was still spry and feisty. The milky skin that had helped to almost make her a starlet in the 1930s was wrinkled, but it was clear how beautiful she’d once been. Her red hair had been coiffed in the same Lucille Ball style since 1958. Her voice was an octave higher and a lot squeakier than it had been when she almost made it in the business, but she was playing music every day, and that was enough for her.
Adam had never been to Nye’s. What the hell was he doing, reading signs on the back of matchbooks, moments after his life crumbled? He hadn’t even started dealing with the effect his firing would have on his parents and his finances.
Walking inside Nye’s was like being in the twilight zone — it was a world that had stood still for 50 years. It was a few minutes past 11 p.m., and the place was nearly dead except for a few regulars. He had never seen Eunice or her ever-changing cast of wannabe crooners singing Dean Martin and Bing Crosby, but he suddenly found himself wanting to sing something. He didn’t know what and he didn’t know why. At first, Adam just observed Eunice and the two patrons seated at the semi-circular bar that wrapped around the organ’s platform. A heavy-set woman with an angelic voice was singing “Somewhere over the Rainbow.” Eunice was with her every step of the way — mouthing each word, in case the woman forgot. When the woman finished singing, she bowed her head, recoiling back into the large body that had imprisoned her sweet voice.
Nobody clapped louder than Adam. Since there were so few people there, his presence was instantly noted.
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