"I want to be loved by you, just you, and nobody else but you! I want to be loved by you, be-deedly-deedly-deedly dum! Boop-boop-bee-doop!" A kiss to the audience and adoration back. I put my hands over my heart and twisted my body cutely to catch their affection here, right here, in my little heart. The audience was clapping for me, and I gave them my Marilyn smile that they adored. There were so many regulars tonight, it being a Friday. Guys who came again and again just to see me.

There was one face in the crowd that I particularly remembered, and I was surprised he'd had the audacity to come back: one Dr. Alphonse Luciano. I unpleasantly remembered the last time he and I had come into contact. Fortunately for him, he'd been behaving himself tonight, sitting at a table instead of the bar. He'd watched me with rapture, not unusual. As I sang, I wondered about him. Wondered about his history, what would make him come back after trying to pull me over the bar like I was some kind of rubber doll that he wanted to make his.

Sometimes my eyes had flit over to Frankie, who was making his rounds all night. He'd walk around, talking to various regulars. He'd meet new people, give them little tickets to grant them free drinks, shake hands. All the time, he'd flash that boyish grin that just made me melt and it took everything I had to stay in character on stage when he laughed. I wanted to break into a grin whenever he laughed. It was my natural reaction.

My set was over now that I had sung "I Wanna Be Loved By You", but the regulars' faces fell and they pounded on the tables begging me to stay. "Sing me 'Anyone Can See I Love You'!", "stay, baby! Sing 'Happy Birthday' to me! It's my birthday!" I pretended to be bashful, flattered by their familiar requests. "Oh no, I couldn't. Oh, maybe next time? That's so sweet!" I giggled, my hand over my mouth. This bowled them over, made them blush.

Paulie was coming up the stairs now, his hand picking up the skirt of his dress to let him get up here on stage without tripping. He was dressed as Judy Garland from Strike Up the Band, a long, voluminous white A-line dress made of sparkly organza with a sweetheart neckline and a black threaded ribbon along the neck making a bow in front that trailed, and giant puffy sleeves to make it just that much more darling. Frankie was behind him, smiling up at me from the stairs. He was going to play Mickey Rooney, playing the piano as they sang "Good Morning" from the classic movie Babes in Arms.

"I'm taking your man, Georgina," Paulie whispered as we passed on stage, beaming at me.

"Try saying that to the diamond on my finger," I quipped back, waving my fingers at him, the diamond and sapphires catching the light at just the right time.

Paulie's eyes about popped out of his head. I started giggling for real. He looked about ready to bail on his set and twirl around to go down the stairs with me, but instead he mouthed something I couldn't make out. I waved the same hand at him with a grin, the precious stones sparkling in the light again as I descended the stairs with the help of Frankie at the top.

"Thank you, baby," I said quietly to him.

"Always, pretty eyes," he whispered elegantly behind me.

I blushed, which he couldn't see. In happy love bubbly feelings, I danced in swaying motions to the bar. Some of the regulars were still staring at me with wide eyes. I had to admit, this new dress Paulie had debuted to me yesterday was jaw dropping. It was a nearly nude colored, sparkly replica of the slinky, body hugging dress Marilyn had worn to serenade Kennedy at his birthday. With it, Paulie had given me custom padding for my hips and bum to accentuate the dress in just the right areas, declaring my old padding inferior on the spot (which he had also made).

"And what about my girls?" I'd asked him, putting my hands over my pointed merry widow's chest.

"Your girls are great, I can't improve perfection," he'd shrugged with a grand smile.

I'd bounced then and ordered him to dress me, dress me, dress me and he'd happily accepted, asking once again why the heck I was so sickeningly full of joy this week. I'd just beamed at him and wouldn't tell him a thing.

Until just now.

I'd wanted to wait until everybody was together. Frankie and I had agreed that we'd wait to tell everyone about the engagement until we were all gathered at our favorite spot: the bar after closing.

Earlier in the week, he told me when he broke the news to his father at dinner at their home his father had been so happy he'd cried. I could imagine such a thing, remembering him crying when he'd congratulated us on being a committed couple. I'd felt such overwhelming emotion. It had made me cry, thinking about the old man crying in joy to see us engaged.

It made me tear up a little even now, but I couldn't think about it for even a minute because a speeding puffball was about to collide with me.

"Whoa!" I chuckled, extending my arms out for him just in time.

"Gorgeous!" Cha Cha squealed, pressing his face into my shoulder, hugging me. Except it came out sounding more like, 'gore-ji-azz'. It made me smile even harder than before. Oh, he filled me with such sweetness, his sugary spirit rubbing off on me. Rubbing off...

"Oh, gosh your make-up!" I gasped, wrenching his head from my shoulder as friendly as I could.

"It okay, I use hair spray," he beamed. He looked like a headlight had taken over his face.

"Hair spray? I don't understand," I said, inspecting my shoulder. Not a damn thing was there. My eyes inspected his make-up. Not one thing had rubbed off.

"Hair spray. It set pastels, coals. It set make-up," he grinned, pulling me by the hand to the bar.

"...You little Einstein," I breathed, realizing what he was saying as we went along hurriedly.

"No, no. Thandi say," he corrected me pointedly, wanting me to know with importance, "she artist, she know. I tell her I have make-up problem, she tell me how 'set pastels and coals'. Make-up problem fix!"

Carl's daughter. I had never felt more proud.

As we rounded the bar, Carl put a Coca Cola with the top off next to what I assumed had to be Cha Cha's. I didn't even mind that he'd broken my stern "only water when we perform" rule, I was so happy. In fact, I hadn't minded all week, all of my cares gone with the wind. Carl had been incredulous about this, and seemed to be testing his luck, seeing just how far he could go before I would snap. But joke was on him because I wouldn't be snapping.

"That dress!" Carl laughed, beside himself, "if your skin tone was pinker it would be scandalous, but on you it's just another color. You could use more sun!"

"Glad to hear it," I smiled, grabbing my soda pop. "Can I have a straw?"

"What, no comeback?" Carl winked, starting to walk away to get one.

"Nope. It's the truth isn't it?"

"Gosh, what's with you this week, huh?" he asked, his voice shocked in an amused way just like all week.

"Oh, well. Mmm," I beamed, sitting on a stool and kicking my feet to let the excess happy out of my toes.

Cha Cha started giggling, sitting on the stool next to mine, staying as close as possible next to me. I enjoyed his close presence very much. It was so loving, pure. Radiantly excited, just like me.

"No, really. Why are you so happy? You gotta tell me."

"Mmmmm, no."

"Aw, c'mon."

I took a sip from my straw now, raising my eyebrows to show I was occupied. A man further down the bar rose a finger, and Carl gave me a look that clearly said he'd get me later but there was no way he could.

On stage, Frankie and Paulie were sitting close together on the piano bench just like in Babes in Arms and Frankie was doing his Mickey Rooney banter but instead of bantering back Paulie was staring him down like a cartoon vulture. Even so, Frankie was taking it in stride. He snapped his fingers in front of Paulie once like it was part of the routine and Paulie snapped right back into character, breaking into an adorable feminine grin like always and chirping "Good Mornin'!" at him, which he sang back full of natural cheer.

I couldn't help but giggle again.

"So cuuute," Cha Cha bounced next to me, watching their performance, too. He'd seen this new routine in my apartment about a hundred times during practice, but seeing it on stage was so very different.

Paulie jumped off the piano bench, and Frankie launched into his little singing solo and I sighed deeply, leaning against the bar, completely captured by him. I could see his dimples from way back here. I wanted to kiss each of them on his cheeks, squeeze his Cupidly handsome face, wonder how god could have made such a face.

Paulie started to dance with gusto, snapping his fingers to the beat, singing brightly. The audience followed him loyally, starting to clap along with his fingers and his smile went so wide it looked superhuman. He went forward on one leg and spread his arms wide as if to hug them all.

"Good mornin', good mornin'! Sun beams will soon smile through! Good mornin', good mornin'!"

"Sell it, Ma, sell it!" Frankie commanded him from the piano and it barreled me. I started cracking up again.

"Good mornin', my darlin', to you!" Paulie finished with a roll of piano keys from Frankie and the crowd went up in such cheers.

I was laughing still, my hands over my mouth, my soda pop all but abandoned on the bar. All I could think of was Paulie yelling at Frankie that he had to say that line at the end or it wasn't Babes in Arms. Drilling it into him, stopping and spinning to him every time he failed to say it. Frankie had looked like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar every time. He'd looked so defenseless and cute I had to grab him after practice and kiss it all better. What a lovely time it had turned out to be.

The crowd didn't have time to show their appreciation for very long because Paulie launched right into "I Don't Care" from The Good Old Summertime, using his ending pose to launch into a shtick. The audience recognized the song immediately, the song being one of Judy Garland's most famous songs, and they shouted "I don't care!" when Paulie did and oh goodness the delighted look on his face!

"Ah!" Cha Cha squealed when they did it the first time, starting to laugh. I laughed with him, reaching around to grab my soda pop.

Paulie was clowning around on stage, lifting his skirt like a shy can-can dancer, never putting it down really, and the audience was cheering and whooping, singing along with him. I'd never seen such a response before. It was absolutely astonishing, like a merry bedlam.

Frankie was playing along on his piano, keeping up with Paulie at a flying pace. He'd started joining in with the crowd when they shouted "I don't care!" and so had me and Cha Cha at the bar. I started dancing in my seat and Cha Cha followed suit.

"Looks like this is going to be a continuous crowd pleaser," Carl chuckled behind us.

"Oh, I think so," I giggled.

As Paulie sat down on the bench next to Frankie again, singing the more subdued part of the song, my brain wandered to something he had told me a couple of days ago. A grin similar to the one currently on his face spread on my own from ear to ear.

"This song is not because I want to sing Judy Garland," he had told me with a vengeful glint in his eye, "this song is to show everybody that I don't care what they think of me for dumping Avi. I don't care that his father is rich and what a good catch he was. I'm just me, looking for my own happiness. That's what the song means to me now. I'm going to show all of them."

I wiggled in my seat, seeing how successful the song was going over. It was more successful than Paulie could have imagined. Maybe the crowd didn't get what his message was or what, but even so. Just seeing them enjoying themselves, not caring that Paulie had gone off during the Christmas show. It was so amazingly wonderful.

But then again, Paulie going off on Avi was the best thing that had ever happened to his career anyway, the pure spectacle. Proving that people talking about you no matter in what light was still people talking about you. Any publicity was good publicity.

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed Cha Cha tugging on my arm. I came back to the present to find everybody staring at me. Oh gosh. I started to turn pink.

"Paulie want you on stage," Cha Cha was saying full of sunshine, "sing with him!"

Sing with him?!

"What?"

"Go, you go!"

"But-"

I looked at Cha Cha. His chocolate brown eyes were full of frenzied elation. He shook my arm again, wanting me to go so much, his own smile so wide and eager.

"Okay, okay," I giggled to only us two.

"Yay! You go!"

I got up, waving at the audience. They roared in applause and screams of excitement. As quick as this tight dress could take me, I was up those stairs and next to Paulie in no time flat. He handed me the microphone, confident as a young peacock.

"So what are we singing?" I said to the crowd more than to Paulie, pretending. I knew full well what and we'd practiced this as a joke a few times in rehearsal. I didn't think he'd actually do it.

"Well, it goes a little somethin' like this," Paulie introduced, taking my hand. I gave the crowd a bemused look of surprise and they cheered. But they began screaming in applause and getting to their feet, sending both of us to stage performer heaven as the next words came out of Paulie's mouth:

"I'm singin' in the rain! Just singin' in the rain! What a glorious feeling! I'm happy again!"