Disclaimer: I own nothing but Anita . All music is credited to their writers/performers in text. I do not own Hairspray, any of its media forms, nor any of its associated character.

Note: This is a period piece. Be aware that the thoughts of these characters will reflect that.

A Woman, A Lover, A Friend

Chapter 1

Baltimore, Maryland 1960: Two Years Before the Miss Teenaged Hairspray Competition

"Ladies and gentlemen, it has been my pleasure to be your viewing entertainment these long 10 years, but now I feel that it is time for me to move on to greener pastures. The Ultra Clutch team has done so much for me this past decade and I cannot help them enough. Never fear, the Dom Diamond show will not end with me. Come on up here Corny!" Dom, the man standing in the spotlight called out.

Corny Collins took a deep breath and plastered a flashy smile on his face as he strolled onto the stage. He waved at the cameras and audience as he made his way over to Dom.

"I am pleased to announce that the Dom Diamond Show will be taken over by Baltimore's own, Mr. Corny Collins!" Dom boomed into the microphone and Corny had to resist wincing in response to the noise. "Why don't you go ahead and say a little something Corny?"

"Hello ladies and gentlemen," Corny's smoky voice filled the room and more than a few swoons escaped the audience. "I'm so grateful to Dom and the station for giving me this chance. I hope you all tune in for next week's Corny Collins show."

Corny winked for good measure and a couple of squeals could be heard from the audience. Dom wheezed out a laugh, masking his ire at the reaction his much younger replacement was getting, and quickly shooed his successor off-stage to recite his final goodbyes and advertising plugs.

There was an after party that involved cheap cake and champagne. The cramped room smelled like cigarettes and Dom was in the corner feeling up a woman younger than even Corny, while everyone pretended not to see. For a split moment, Corny actually regretted the fact that he had taken on this new job. It was an early afternoon spot—barely time to catch the kids after school. That was the other problem, it was a spot for show that catered to teenagers.

Dom, who was now in his 50s, was not appealing to the younger demographics. They wanted a guy like Corny, handsome and hip enough to be the guy every teenaged boy wanted to be, and the man every girl wanted to have. It was the best he could do after hitting rock bottom in California. Corny had wanted to be a movie star, but just couldn't get into the industry. It was hard for a newcomer to break into the scene when the industry darlings were so dominant. So, after a year he came back home and started working in the station. It paid off now that he was going to be in charge of his own show at the ripe age of 25.

Corny left the station as soon as it was appropriate. The streets were relatively empty considering the fact that it was midweek. Corny was bone tired and a little more than frustrated. There was a restlessness that he could not shake. He wanted to do everything and yet could do nothing. He was not even sure what this "everything" he wanted was. Ennui was something else.

Corny grunted as he met a red light. There weren't any other cars going in the opposite direction. Part of him wanted to run the light, but he sat there. The only sound he heard was the grumbling of his own car.

Another vehicle crept up next to Corny's. He wandered how he had not heard it's approach with all of the racket it was making. While Corny's car was not brand new, it definitely was not nearly as run down as the one he was currently next to. The bulky machine sputtered so violently that the entire vehicle shook. It has rusty patches all over it, and the bed of the truck was more wood than metal.

The driver was obscured by the vehicle's dirty windows and the general darkness of the night. When the light turned green, both he and the other driver propelled forward. Suddenly, the other car finally sputtered its last breaths with a lurch and stopped smack in the middle of the intersection.

Corny pulled past it, parked, and climbed out ready to lend a hand.

The other driver had climbed out and was already looking under the hood of the car. Boy was she a picture. Under the streetlights, she looked like a painting. Sepia colored arms and legs extended from the pale dress she wore. The overskirt and bodice were ivory, dyed green by the streetlight overhead, with petticoats of lavender. The dress was not made of the finest materials, but it looked beautiful nonetheless.

Corny strode up next to her and cleared his throat. "Excuse me ma'am, do you need a hand?"

The young woman straightened and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Hazel brown eyes with flecks of green peered up at him nervously. He caught sight of a button nose and lush lips painted and inviting rouge. He resisted the urge to let out a low whistle.

"No, sir. I think I'll be fine," She responded in a husky voice that betrayed how shy she was feeling.

He gave her a wry grin and leaned against her car. "Well ma'am I'm not so sure about that. You should move your vehicle over towards the curb to service it instead of being in the middle of the intersection."

The woman looked bashful, and rather afraid. Corny frowned and then realized what must be making her so concerned.

"Look sweetheart, I'm just here to lend a hand. I have no intention of doing you any wrong. Here, you get in the driver's seat and put your car in neutral so that we can steer it out of the way. Okay?" He explained and stepped back a bit to give her some space.

She looked around as if expecting, hoping, to see someone else show up, but then met his gaze and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"The name is Corny Collins," He responded as he removed his overcoat and unbuttoned his shirt sleeves. He rolled them up his arms and began to push. Without prompting she began to steer, and within 10 minutes, the car was at the curb. Corny felt beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, and he swiped them off with the back of his hand.

"Okay, now let's see what's under the hood."

"Really sir, this isn't necessary," The young woman said and Corny flashed what would become his signature grin.

"Remember it's Corny. Plus, I could never go home this evening knowing that I left a beautiful lady to fend for herself in the middle of the night in Baltimore. I was raised better than that," He explained as he popped the hood.

Smoke blew up in the air and he waved his hand to clear it from his face.

"I can't believe it's still smoking. It must be damaged pretty badly," She spoke up from right beside him. Perhaps the few drinks he had had were affecting him more than he thought, as he couldn't help but shiver when she spoke.

"Well, let's see about that ma'am," Corny was focused on his task.

"I reckon I don't know you well enough to forget my manners, but because you keep insisting I'll strike a bargain with you. If I must call you Corny instead of sir, you can call me Anita instead of ma'am." Ah, so she had a name after all. His stubbornness had won out.

"No offense but what kind of name is Corny anyway?" Anita's tone was lighter and Corny preferred this a lot more than the apprehensiveness she was showing earlier.

"Well, my name is James Collins, but I got the nickname Corny when I was younger. It stuck. Corny Collins works great as my stage name." Corny tinkered with different parts of the engine and attempted to find the source of the problem. Only thing was, there could have been several sources. The engine was in utter disrepair, and Corny wasn't sure if he could get the car up and running again. His skills as a mechanic were only enough to get by.

"Stage name huh? And a big shot white boy wants to help out the poor little black girl for no reason?" Anita spoke with a bitter edge to her voice.

Corny stopped short and immediately looked at her. His jaw was clenched and he was ready to begin an argument until he saw the look in her eyes. There was a fear there that he could not comprehend. Yet, even he wasn't stupid enough to be oblivious to the implications of a man like him helping a girl like her in the middle of the night. She had tried to ward off his advances, but some notion of chivalry made him insist to help her. She could not know if there were ulterior motives. She had every right to be afraid.

"I have no intention of harming you ma'am. As I said before, I was raised better than that nonsense and I meant it. The only thing you have to fear from me is the fact that there's no way I'm going to be able to save your car. The radiator is shot," Corny stood up straight and shook his hands.

"One second, I have something for that."

Anita reached into the car and pulled out a long cloth. Corny accepted it with muttered thanks and wiped his hands on it. There was silence for a few minutes as Corny thoroughly cleaned his hands. Anita stood with her hip cocked, biting her bare fingernails as she stared at the car as if willing it to fix itself.

"So, where do you want me to drop you off?" Corny asked with a honeyed tone as if trying to play off the gravity of what he was asking. All he was doing was make himself seem even more suspect than before. He winced at the realization that he was only making this worse.

"Excuse me?"

"There's no way I feel comfortable leaving you in the middle of this part of town at this time of night. Where can I drop you off?" He repeated much slower and Anita cut her eyes at him in slight annoyance.

"I just want you to know that I'm a lot scrappier than I look, so don't go trying anything funny. You'll walk up but you'll limp back," She threatened and he held his hands up in surrender. "There's this record store near downtown. My auntie owns it. She will come and pick me up from there."

Corny gave her another bright smile. She had to resist returning it. Anita found something about his smile to be infectious.

"You mean the shop owned by Ms. Maybelle? I love that place. She's your aunt?" He closed the hood to her truck and gingerly grabbed his suit jacket, not wanting to tarnish it with oil and muck.

"My daddy's baby sister. He sent me out here to help her in the record store and with her babies." Anita stopped after that, not quite sure why she was sharing so much with him. She hadn't said much, but to the wrong person, even a little was too much.

"Well, that's simply grand of you." He opened the car door for her and closed it behind her.

Within minutes they were cruising down the street, with just the street lights to keep them company. Anita was pressed really close to the door as if she were trying to run away from Corny. After a few measly attempts to start a conversation, Corny gave up and turned on the radio. This late at night, the Black stations would be playing their music, which Corny much preferred. He would stay up late with the radio playing just to hear the up-tempo soul that would pour from the stations.

Tonight, however, was a night for crooners. Corny found himself singing along to "A Woman, A Lover, A Friend" by Jackie Wilson. Anita glanced at him quite surprised out of the corner of her eye. He had quite the voice on him. His head bobbed along with the tune, and he drummed the steering wheel but still managed to be entirely enthralled by the music.

Corny continued to amuse himself with the music on the radio, but Anita remained absolutely silent. After ten minutes, they pulled up to the record store. Corny quickly got out and opened the door for Anita who actually smiled at him this time. She was all teeth, and he nearly tripped over himself.

"Thank you Mr. Corny. It would have been a long walk here on my own in all this dark. You've been awfully kind to me tonight even when I wasn't the most polite," Anita admitted.

Corny shrugged. "Your apprehension was understandable, but my feelings might be a little hurt next time."

There was a beat of silence and Corny sputtered realizing the implications of his words.

"Yessir, next time my car breaks down, I'll consider ringing you for a ride. You have a good night Mr. Collins," Anita offered him a small smile, the barest upturn of the lips, before unlocking and entering the doors of the record store.

Corny got back into his car and drove home. For some reason, "Partin' Time" by B.B King felt like an inappropriate close to what was a rather unpredictable night.

~~~The Next Week~~~

Anita was sitting in front of her aunt's stove. The burner was up high as metal combs heated in the flames. A tin of grease sat next to the stove. It was early Thursday evening, and Maybelle and Anita were in the kitchen doing each other's hair. Maybelle's hair was already pressed and up in rollers and a silk scarf. It was Anita's turn, and Maybelle had the hot comb running through her niece's unruly curls.

"You're now tuning in to the Corny Collins show!" Anita jumped in shock at the announcement, and let out a yelp as the hot comb hit her ear. Maybelle cursed and pulled back.

"ANITA! Chil' you need to relax before you hurt ya self. Here let me look at it?" Maybelle grabbed Anita's face and looked at the damn.

"Put some cocoa butter on it and you'll be fine. It don't look like more than a little red on ya ear. Now, be still baby."

"Sorry, just. That's the man who gave me the ride the other night," Anita explained pointing at the television screen that was still visible from the kitchen.

"You mean to tell me that you met Corny Collins? That boy is a blessing in disguise. He's been trying to convince the studio to give us some time on the air. Said that Ultra Clutch needed to embrace the times. He's seen Seaweed dance and wanted him on the main show. That tramp Velma VonTussle shut him down though. Just because he's a nice boy don't make it alright for you to take that ride from him though. That was dangerous," Maybelle muttered off at her signature rapid pace. Anita simply sat still.

"You got hair like my side of the family. Thick and long. Be proud of it," Maybelle had some how switched topics. Anita smiled at her over her shoulder and looked forward. Corny was singing and dancing on screen dripping with confidence and a swagger that she had not witnessed those days before.

By the time her hair was done, the show was finally wrapping up.

"Here let me wrap it for you." Maybelle pulled out a bag of clips to pin up Anita's hair before wrapping it in a silk scarf not unlike her own.

"Let me clean up aunty, you get some rest. Thank you for doing my hair," Anita requested and Maybelle accepted with a nod.

"No problem baby. Just make sure you get into bed on time too. We got a long day at the record store tomorrow."

Anita waited until her aunt was all the way in her room before she began to put the hair supplies away. She washed the dishes left soaking in the sink from the roast, and swept the floor. All the while, singling softly to herself in the pastel hues of the kitchen light.

Months passed. While her encounter with Corny was a distant memory, his blue eyes were plastered to her mind. Anita busied herself with working in the record store and helping write songs for the singing group her aunt managed. The Dynamites were a dynamic trio of singers with voices that could bring a room to tears or to their feet dancing.

They had wanted Anita to join them, but she politely declined saying that she had no interest in performing. Plus, they were perfect as a trio. She settled for writing down music in the down times in the record store. Like the current moment.

"I heard church bells ringing

I heard a choir singing

I saw my love walk down the aisle

On her finger he placed a ring

Oh, I saw them holding hands

She was standing there with my man

I heard them promise "Till death do us part

Each word was a pain in my heart"

(Etta James "All I Could Do Was Cry 1960)

Anita's voice echoed through the nearly empty record store. Things were always slow before lunch time. She walked around placing records on their respective shelves and tables. Every so often she'd stop, and scribble down lyrics on a notepad that she carried under her arm.

So caught up in the process of writing, Anita was oblivious to the fact that she had company other than her aunt who was in the back, and old Wilbur who ran the cash register. The intruder simply stood in the door way, soaking in the voice of the woman before him.

"All I could do, all I could do was cry (cry, cry, cry)

All I could do was cry (cry, cry, cry)

I was losing the man that I loved

And all I could do was cry (cry, cry, cry)"

Anita had simply stopped putting away records and just stood there singing her heart out to the wall. She had even stopped writing lyrics at that point, but with a song like this it wasn't as though one could really forget the words. They sort of branded themselves to your heart.

The songwriter turned away from the wall in a fit of passion during her singing. Her eyes immediately met Corny's and her voice faltered before stopping all together.

"By God Anita. Your voice…" He said breathlessly, and she looked down.

"Oh don't mind me, I was just messing around. I just write them for the other girls to sing. Nothing more and-," She responded at a pace that rivaled Maybelle's, avoiding his eyes.

"I don't think any one in this world could sing that song the way you just did," Corny blurted before she could finish.

They stood staring at one another not quite sure what to say, if there was anything that could be said, before Maybelle came in from the back room.

"Mr. Corny Collins! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Maybelle asked, a vision in her signature flowing dress.

Corny's countenance immediately shifted, as he seemed to remember that he had shown up with a particular purpose. His smile was wide and excited energy rolled off of him in waves.

"It wasn't easy Maybelle, but I did it. You now have a monthly spot on the show. I tried to go for full integration, but the harder I pressed, the more resistance they grew. This slot was the best I could do," Corny announced getting right to business.

Maybelle was struck dumb for a second before she embraced the younger man in a tight hug. She lived up to her nickname Motormouth with how fast words were pouring out of her mouth.

"You're a saint, Corny Collins. Oh, I'm gonna cook for you chil'. Anita we're gonna be on TV! Oh, honey you're a blessing!"

Anita stood to the side as her aunt sang praises to the handsome, young white man standing in their record store. She took a minute to actually take in his appearance.

He had on a dark blue, three piece suit that really accentuated his eyes. His dark brown hair slicked back with a side part. His strong features reminded Anita of that really popular Superman comic book character- with his chiseled jaw and straight nose. He didn't have the same build- Corny seemed to have more lean muscle whereas the super hero was far more bul-

Anita shook her head to clear her head of thoughts of the man. She shouldn't have been looking at him in that way. Anita fingered the floral material of her dress. It was a-line and flared at the waist with a white petticoat under it. It was a lovely dress, stylish, but the materials were obviously cheaper than what would be seen on Corny's side of town. Anita was usually proud of the dresses her aunt made her. They were a sign of making something out of nothing. Now, she felt inadequately dressed in his company.

"Mr. Collins you went and got my aunty her own television show?" Anita preened. In Maybelle's tirade, he had found himself looking in the direction of the young woman, who had been lost in thought. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail with a small bump for volume. It was thick and shiny, and the end of the ponytail brushed her shoulders. Corny thought she looked just as lovely as she did all those nights ago.

"Yes, I did, Miss Anita," He began with a voice not unlike the one he used for announcing. "By the way, I haven't gotten any phone calls so I suspect your car hasn't left you stranded anymore."

"I had to scrap it actually. It was not doing me any good anymore," She shrugged and gave him and impish smile. "Plus, I don't know your number anyway."

Maybelle watched the interaction with one eyebrow raised. "Anita honey," She interrupted and both looked at her. "You should be on the show."

"Oh Auntie, I'm an okay dancer, but not good enough to be on television. Let Seaweed and Lil Inez do that," Anita stammered waving her hands as if to say "no".

"I meant singing! Anita you'd be great up there. You solo and the Dynamites all together!" Maybelle rattled off in her booming stage voice.

Corny watched the exchange with his eyebrows knitted together. It was obvious that the two women had discussed this before.

"Now, Auntie, you know I can't. It'll be okay though. You'll have great music and the Dynamites. The show will be a hoot! You don't need me for that," Anita assured her aunt and gave Maybelle a kiss on the cheek.

"But hone-" Maybelle began, but was cut off my her niece.

"Now, I'm going to go down to The Shack and grab us some lunch. You want a cheeseburger Mr. Collins?" Anita grabbed her sweater off of a stool and clutch purse.

"No thank you Ms. Anita I've already eaten," Corny answered with a nod of his head. He was giving her a calculating look that made her a little uncomfortable. So, she nodded at the two of them and walked out the door.

"You wouldn't believe it, but that girl has more talent in her body than you could find in the entire DMV area. Music major at Spelman College, and was one of the top students of her class. After she graduated, she came down here with me instead of pursuing a career," Maybelle clucked.

Corny decided that feigning ignorance of Anita's talent would suit them best. "So, why won't she pursue it?" He questioned hoping to get more insight.

"Because she's afraid." And they left it at that.

Corny made arrangements for Maybelle to come down to the station to get all of the paper work out of the way.

"Thank you Mr. Collins. You don't know how much this means to us," Maybelle was gearing up for a good cry and Corny didn't want to be around for it. Bless her soul, the woman's blubbering was just as ostentatious as the rest of her.

"It's nothing Maybelle. You deserve it more than I do if we're going to be honest. You take care now," Corny patted her hand and walked out the door.

Anita was rounding the corner with a couple brown paper bags in her hands. One already had grease seeping through it from the food it carried.

"Leaving Mr. Collins?" Anita asked stopping next to his car.

"Yeah, I uhhh got to run a few errands." He was stuttering and he didn't know why. Perhaps the fact that he now knew far more about her than he thought she'd be comfortable with. "Also, I keep saying this, but please just call me Corny."

"Alright then…Corny. You have a nice day," Anita said and gave him a smile. She turned to walk into the door.

"Anita," Corny called out and she turned. He smiled at her. "You look nice today."

With that, he climbed into his car and began to make his way home. Anita stood there until he rounded the corner. The dress wasn't so bad after all.

"And that's it ladies and gentlemen. The first ever Negro Day brought to you by Ultra Clutch's Kinky-to-Slinky hair products. Turn that frown upside down with silky hair on your crown. Good night y'all!" Maybelle spoke with a wide smile on her face.

Anita stood off-stage next to Corny who had come to see the premier of Negro Day. The name had rubbed her the wrong way, but Anita couldn't voice her complaints to anyone- especially when the snake Velma VonTussle slithered within earshot. Anita had a notepad and pencil at hand, where small script was neatly written. Some words were crossed out, and eraser shavings clung to the parchment. She had been writing lyrics.

"Thank you again Corny. My aunt has been wanting this for a while. You helped make it a reality for her and the Dynamites finally got some time in the spotlight," Anita thanked him quietly so that the microphones wouldn't pick up the sound of it.

"They deserve it. Plus, this is better than anything I can put out on my show. The producers are so damn uptight. Pardon my language," He looked sheepish at his slip.

"It's okay. I've heard much worse from Maybelle in the record store."

"You know… you would be great on the show Anita," Corny offered and she sighed.

"It's funny. Maybelle said the same thing. It's almost like you two have been talking," Her eyes narrowed at him.

Corny shrugged. "I'm not going to hound you. All I have to say is don't let it go to waste. You could be rich and famous. You could have everything you ever wanted."

"Except the ability to walk through the front door of a restaurant on your side of town. Except the ability to walk past you on the sidewalk without having to step into the gutter. You've seen what's happened to people like me. Take for example Miss Billie Holliday. Fame doesn't mean everything Corny," Anita growled and Corny could not respond.

Fame had always been a monolith to him. It was a state of being in which the same silver platters laden with spoils, also bore ruin. It was a constant game of chance that gave and took liberally. He had loved the idea of it, but hadn't before thought of the people who had more taken than given.

Anita scoffed at his silence, and turned to walk away. Corny grabbed her hand. It was the first time they had ever had physical contact. There were no sparks, no fireworks. The released each other as soon as contact was made, but Anita couldn't help but notice her anger had drained out of her. A feeling of calmness had washed over both of them the minute they touched, as if this was the way things needed to be.

"I apologize Miss Anita. It was out of line for me to assume to know what you wanted or what was best for you," Corny apologized looking her in her eye.

"Apology accepted, Corny," Anita acquiesced and he nodded. Velma watched them with her piercing gaze.

"I should go get aunt Maybelle's things together so that we can get on home. We still have to open up tomorrow morning," Anita said discomfited by the glare sent her way. Corny stepped back.

"I should be on my way as well. Have to go take care of the last bit of business here in the station. You have a good night Ms. Anita," Corny murmured. He gave her a small smile and walked away.

Anita watched him go, with a pained expression that didn't go unnoticed by the two elder blond women in the room.

—1961—

Negro Day was a hit with the Black folks in Baltimore and the small towns on its outskirts. It was customary for families to gather at the houses with televisions just to watch it. The school children were allowed to stay up late on the school night just to tune in. Everyone crowding the living rooms with plates laden with greens, black eyed peas, yams, and small pork chops. If it was a special occasion, someone may have made a 7up cake. The hours toiling day after day, in the cruel climate of the South, came to a head just once a month, for a half an hour in front of the television. It wasn't a fair trade off by any means, but they didn't begrudge what little they got.

Maybelle's record store started receiving more visitors from teenaged hopefuls wanting a spot on the show. Local singing groups would audition for the opportunity to perform alongside the dancers. Boys and girls of all ages would stop her in the street to shimmy their way into a spot on the show. Maybelle started throwing dinner party rehearsals for the performers to dance and eat for which some of them were grateful. A spot on the show didn't mean money in their pockets. It just gave them a chance to be in the limelight for once. Even if the light bore the shadow of the moniker "Negro".

It was first year anniversary of Negro Day. The anniversary show had already aired and featured all live music and new dances. It was the most watched performance by far. Corny had told Anita that they had even gotten steady views from outside of just their community.

Maybelle decided to hold the event following Saturday. She wanted it to coincide with Anita's 23rd birthday, which saved time from having to plan two events.

"A two in one party baby girl. That's all this is," Maybelle defended her choice in her matter-of-fact voice.

Anita had tried to argue that she didn't need a party as twenty three was not a mile-stone age. Maybelle would hear none of it.

That night, Anita slid into another one of Maybelle's creations. The material was a deep red made out of chiffon. Unlike the typical a line skirts that she wore, this one had a sheath skirt and a sweetheart neckline. Anita insisted on sleeves of some sort, so Maybelle put on cap sleeves to assuage her niece. It was a curve hugging piece that accentuated Anita's russet toned skin well.

"You're gonna look like a show stopper, just you wait," Maybelle rattled on as she brushed Anita's hair back. Maybelle pulled it into a high bun that was sleek and voluminous.

Maybelle was also quite a vision in gold and scarlet red- her signature colors.

"Well, aunty we look quite the picture if I may say so myself," Anita remarked as they looked into the mirror. It was old, and a little distorted. Yet, despite the imperfections of the mirror, the women in it were a sight to see.

"Are you sure you don't want to go blond too?" Maybelle asked lightly patting the bun on her niece's head. Anita shook her head vehemently. All the memories of what her aunt with through to bleach her hair, the chemical smell and Maybelle's complaints would discourage any one from doing the same.

"You couldn't pay me to change my hair color."

"It was worth asking. Now, let's go before we're late for our own party."

The record store had become the hub for all of Black Baltimore's festivities. It was large and had the set up for a party with the added bonus of insulation to keep the sound from disturbing the neighbors.

"You expecting any special visitors for your party? Any young men coming around?" Maybelle teased, as they loaded up the car with food.

Anita responded with a load groan that made the older woman laugh.

Maybelle had been dropping hints for Anita to bring someone around for some time time. Anita passed most of her time in the record store or with the kids. She read a lot and did some singing, but Maybelle had not once seen her niece so much as notice anyone of the opposite sex. This was not to say that Anita did not have an admirer or two. The only problem was that Anita was interested in a person that she should not have so much as looked twice at. Circumstances made any thought of having a relationship with him impossible. Plus, Anita knew so little about him. So, she amused herself with lyrics about a blue-eyed boy.

"No aunty, I told you I'm not expecting anyone." Anita was tired of answering this question.

She knew Maybelle wanted her to think about settling down soon. Maybelle had been wed at 16, pregnant by 17, and widowed by 23. The woman had lived a lifetime before she reached adulthood. Now, 32 years-old and running two successful businesses, as well as her own show, Maybelle was at the top of the world—or rather, their side of town.

"Well, maybe you'll see someone tonight. Eddie-Mae's grandsons will be there. The twins? And that Joe kid who moved up from Shreveport. Not to mention, Red Lewis from around the corner," Maybelle listed off names of most of the neighborhood's eligible young men.

Anita simply nodded as she prattled on. The ride to the record store had never seemed so long before. She distracted herself with thoughts of Corny's smile. It wouldn't do to act on her feelings, but there was no crime in thinking about it. It was easy to develop a crush on the charismatic television host. He was kind, good looking, and she'd always had a soft spot for boys that could sing.

Once they arrived, Seaweed and a few of his friends helped the ladies unload the car. There were streamers and a few balloons around the record store. The lights had been dimmed in different areas, and the boys had put colored lenses over the brighter bulbs to give the room a more extravagant party feel. Sticking to tradition makeshift dance floor was the darkest area, giving the adults room to dance like adults without danger of being too obvious to the younger partygoers.

After things were settled, Anita had split her time between chatting with the Dynamites and dancing with her younger cousin who was already taller than her.

"Getting slow in your old age Anita?" Seaweed teased as he spun her around.

"Oh hush. Watch and learn," Anita taunted and began to do the twist stiffly, as if she were ancient, for comedic affect.

She was met with laughter and taunts as other crowd members called her bluff. Once she cut loose, a circle of clapping, cheering black folk surrounded them as each tried to show the other up. Anita knew Seaweed was the better dancer, but she wouldn't back down from a challenge. At the end of the song, she gave him a hug and wandered off to the sidelines to cool down. It wouldn't do to sweat our the hairdo that she spent hours getting together.

"Ms. Anita," A familiar voice called out from behind her.

"Corny?" She whirled around and met those steel blue eyes that she could hardly ever get off her mind.

Corny stood there, hair slick and parted as usual. He also had on another one of his suits. This one was grey, and he wore a blue tie around his neck. It brought out the grey undertones in his eyes. Corny looked as handsome as he ever had, and this time Anita couldn't try to pretend otherwise. He stood out in the dim room, but the other patrons were used to seeing him around at this point. Then again, maybe it was that he always stood out to her.

"Happy Birthday Ms. Anita," Corny spoke with his voice thick with something Anita couldn't identify. His eyes trailed down to her feet, in a slow decent that did not make her feel uncomfortable. She felt quite warm actually.

"Thank you Corny. I'm so happy to see you here. I had no idea you were coming," Anita resisted the urge to take his hand in her own.

"Maybelle told me about the party and invited me. Once I found out it was your birthday, I couldn't miss it," He confessed and she gave him a beaming smile. "You look… resplendent."

Well, that was one way to put it. He had a few choice words about the way that she looked, but could not voice them and remain a gentleman. He tugged at his collar. It was a warm night.

Anita looked away from his intense gaze for a moment. "You're too kind. Plus, you don't look so bad yourself," She murmured trying to lighten up the conversation for the sake of her nerves.

"Yes, but…" Corny began but shook his head as if shaking away his thoughts. "Nevermind. I really would like to give you your birthday gift."

Anita looked down and noticed the box he was holding in his hand. It was the size of an average present box, covered with dark blue wrapping paper topped with a bright white ribbon.

"You didn't have to. Thank you so much Corny!" Anita exclaimed in a fit of excitement. She impulsively leaned over and kissed his cheek before accepting the gift. A light imprint of rouge stained his cheek.

Corny's entire body froze and he stared at her for a minute. He soaked in the feeling of her lips against his cheek, and savored the look in her hazel eyes as he presented the present to her. He wished he had a way to capture her image in only his memory.

"You're welcome, Anita," He said breathlessly. She gave him another beaming smile. "I hope you like it and don't find it to be presumptuous."

"I'm sure it's perfect," Anita reassured him and he laid his hand over hers.

That feeling of calm washed over them both again.

"I'm sure you'd be the better judge of that, being so perfect yourself," He teased, attempting his usual charm, but falling flat of the lighthearted tone he intended. He sounded serious.

Corny was embarrassed. He was a cocky and confident man who always knew how to say and do the right things at any moment. It was how he got the show. It was how he helped make Negro Day happen. Corny was no idiot or boy scout.

Yet, here he was trying his usual tricks on a woman he hardly knew. Anita, for all of her snark, was a very private woman for a very good reason, and Corny had royally screwed up the last time he was let in enough to learn anything about her.

Anita stared at him. She knew Corny was a player, maybe not so much in action, but in word. His charm was his bread and butter. She tried to laugh it off.

"You're funny Mr. Collins," She joked, but her eyes gave away her sadness.

He looked at her and shook his head. It was best to just be honest. "That wasn't a joke Anita. In fact, I'm so serious about this that, I'd kiss you right here and now just to prove it to you. With your permission of course."

Anita inhaled sharply. She needed a chance to get away from him. "I need to go…put this away."

Before he could respond, she was across the room. Maybelle asked her something, and Anita laughed loudly, awkwardly, before excusing herself to the back for a moment.

Corny waited a moment, before saying his farewells. Maybelle made a big todo about his leaving the party so soon. He feigned tiredness from a long day, and said he had a long drive back to his house. Maybelle eventually let him leave after forcing a large plate of food on the young man. To be honest, Corny wasn't opposed to taking home any of Maybelle's delicious food.

He put the plate in his car before driving around to the backside of the building. Anita stood there, and he could not help but reflect that she always took his breath away under the din of streetlights.

Corny pulled in front of her, and she looked as if she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He stepped out of the car and smiled at her. "Would you like to go for a ride?"

Anita hesitated for a moment, before nodding. Corny, opened the car for her.

"Drive down to the old bridge," She told him once he regained his seat.

"Your wish is my request. Just to be sure though, you won't be missed at your party?" Corny asked concerned.

"We covered the birthday song and cake at the beginning. So, it won't be too much of an issue," Anita explained and he nodded.

They drove in silence and remained silent once they reached their location. The Patapsco glimmered in the moonlight. The trees around them blocked any lights from the city. Corny inched his hand towards Anita's and intertwined his fingers with hers. Anita gave his hand a light squeeze.

"Corny, I don't know anything about you," Anita finally spoke up.

"I know, and that's okay because I th-," Corny rattled off and Anita held up a hand silencing him.

"You came to me with all your charm, making my heart beat all fast. You smile at me, and I feel like I'm on fire. Now, I go to church, and I know a thing or two about lust and love, and the best way to figure this out is for me to get to know you. So, tell me about your childhood."

Corny paused as soon as the l-word was brought up, but agreed with her overall logic. "Okay."

He explained that his father was a doctor and had raised him primarily. His father, Nelson, was nearing 50 when Corny had been born. Nelson met the much younger Adeline when she was a receptionist at a hospital. They wed after 6 months. When Corny was four, his mother had gotten really sick, and Nelson blamed himself for being unable to help her. Corny's nickname had come from his father who joked that his fast growing son had to have been cornfed behind his back. His father had apparently not been very supportive of Corny's desire for fame.

"He told me there was no way I would make it in that world, but I wanted to prove him wrong. Then, he died, and I was a failure. His funeral was particularly rough for me because I was surrounded by family I didn't know who all wanted a piece of me for one thing or another. The Collins are a family of old money. Everyone had advice to share with me, Nelson's deadbeat son, about how to properly use my father's money, where to invest, and which of their pursuits I should fund. After that debacle, I decided to stay home. When I started picking up work at the station, I ended up here."

"Did you and your dad still talk after you went away?" Anita asked curiously.

"Oh loads actually. He didn't support my choice in career, but he was still my father. We talked every week. Even with our differences, I knew he loved me very much."

Anita smiled. "I am my daddy's baby," She began. "My mother didn't survive my birth. It was customary for a male relative to hand off a baby to a close female relative if the mother wasn't around. My dad flat out refused to let me live without him. He always said I looked too much like my mother for him to willingly let me out of his sight. He is a musician anyway, so he could spend all his daytime with me and then go play at night. He was so proud when I went to college. After I graduated, I came down here to live with his baby sister. He called me earlier to wish me Happy Birthday. I don't have much figured out, but I know I can't stop writing songs. They're constantly in my head."

Corny noticed that her smile fell once she started talking about music. He wanted to press her for more, but he just couldn't do that again.

"I'm a very…I'm a bit of a perfectionist. I hold myself back because I don't want to fail. When I write the song that I don't think anyone else can sing, I'll sing it."

"And what if that song never comes?" Corny couldn't resist asking.

"Then, I'll never sing. I'm not going to ask you to try to understand, but it's how I am." Anita started to pull her hand away but he held on tight.

Corny drove Anita back to the party and let her out around the corner at her behest. He put up an argument, but she quieted his complaints.

"Corny, we need to be somewhat realistic about some of these things. You have to be careful, and so do I," She explained.

So, he dropped her off, and watched as she walked back into the party she had been absent from for nearly an hour. Corny turned around and drove back home wondering how he was going to get away with seeing her again.

Anita left Corny's gift unopened until she was alone in her room at Maybelle's. She pulled the paper apart carefully not wanting to tear something wrapped so beautifully. Inside the box was a beautiful ivory and lavender material. It was the same colors that she wore on the first night he had given her a ride home. He bought just enough yards for Maybelle to make her a beautiful dress.

It was her favorite color.

Where there's a will, there's a way, and Corny had found a way to keep in contact with the woman he was pursuing. He had drafted Anita as a song writer for some of the performers. She wasn't too willing at first.

"You'll get credit for everything they sing," Corny explained as he tried to woo her into the job.

"Yes, but I'll just be a name lost in translation. I'll never be able to show my face on your show and take real credit for my music. Plus, I don't want Velma whitewashing my music," Anita argued punctuating her words with a finger jabbing the air in front of her. "No offense, but y'all are known for stealing music."

"That's fair, but I don't want you to put real effort into this," He said and she glared at him.

Her fury found new direction.

"Excuse me? I take pride in the music I make. How dare you even suggest that?" Anita barked and he rubbed a hand over his face.

"That's not what I meant. I just think that the Dynamites deserve your music more. Only problem is that, as you know, Velma is more willing to steal your songs than actually give you credit for them. I'm asking that you write a few songs and let the council sing them. You don't have to put the same amount of yourself in this music because I don't want you hurt when Velma takes it and strips it of it's soul," Corny tried to explain but Anita shook her head.

"Corny, I'm sure there are tons of white people who would love to write music for your show. Why me?" Anita asked still posed for a fight. She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip.

"Because this is the only way that I can think of to spend time with you without anyone suspecting anything," Corny raised his voice, finally losing his composure. "You don't think that I realized that there are tons of song writers on my side of town who would jump at this chance? But, I don't want them. I want you. I want to see you without having to sneak around in your aunt's record store as I pretend to have things to tell her about the station. The Speakeasy theme for last month's Negro Day was just a random idea I came up with to be able to see you. I want to be able to talk to you in a crowded room without people wondering why. Do you know how hard it is to court someone you never get to see? I'm trying to convince you that this is real, but I can't do that if I can't see you. I need this excuse."

Anita was taken aback for a moment.

"Why didn't you just say that then?" She chided. "You let me sit here and think that you just wanted me to… You know what. It's not important. If it means that we get to see each other, I'll do it."

And since then, she had been giving him a song a week just so that they could see one another. She would always teach it to him in one of the station's music practice rooms. He would then teach it to the group singing on his show. Anita hated the fact that she always had to enter and exit through the back door, but she and Corny were always given a privacy that they could have had nowhere else.

They spent two hours together every Tuesday night. The first hour was just learning the song, but the second was them spending time together and talking. She made ten dollars a song and was recognized as the writer under the name "Anita James". James was her mother's maiden name so they never ran the risk of someone outside himself and Velma knowing figuring out who she was. If the company needed a face to put to the name, they had plenty of pretty, pale receptionists to take credit for it.

Even though the music Anita wrote for the Council was watered down, the songs were still hits. Velma could never really complain about the work the younger, black woman did though she did suspect Corny's motivations for hiring her. Without enough evidence to make a case, Velma only insisted that she be kept away from the white teenagers who danced on Corny's show.

They were currently on the second half of their "practice" session. The two shared a slice of pineapple upside down cake that Maybelle had made the night before.

"So, I have one question for you." Corny announced in mid-chew and Anita made a face.

"Ask me after you're done chewing, nasty," Anita reprimanded and he gave her a sheepish grin before swallowing.

"You still haven't worn a dress made out of my birthday present. Did you not like it?" He asked with his usual grin on his face. Anita could see the apprehension in his eyes. He was afraid of what she might say.

"That material is the nicest I've ever owned. I don't want to waste it on some regular day dress. I want it to be something special," Anita announced and the apprehension melted away.

"Well, I can't wait to see you in it. Though, the pants you have on now, do suit you very well," Corny muttered cheekily, kissed her hand, and turned back to the cake. "Maybelle deserves an award for this cake. God Almighty."

Anita slapped his hand. "Don't use his name in vain. You have crumbs on your face."

Corny rolled his eyes and apologized. She gave him a warning look and he held up his hands in surrender.

Most of their evenings passed in this way—sharing a slice of dessert while learning more about one another. A kiss on the hand was the most affectionate they were towards one another. Neither was ready to push that boundary yet. Well, Corny was, but he didn't want to scare Anita away.

At the end of their meetings, Corny would drive her home, or rather to the record store and Maybelle would pick her up from there. Anita knew that her aunt was growing more and more suspicious of the two, but kept most of her thoughts to herself. Maybelle was more open minded than most and recognized that if anything her niece deserved support rather than judgement. Love was a beautiful, vibrant thing, and no one had a right to cast a shadow over it simply because of the color of skin.

"Aunt Maybelle, I have something serious to ask you," Anita announced one night after Maybelle picked her up from the record store.

"What is honey? Are you in trouble?" Maybelle asked anxiously. The edge to her voice gave away what she thought her niece was going to say.

"No! Nothing like that! I'll… just get it out. I've written a song. I want to sing it next Negro Day," Anita explained and Maybelle slammed on the breaks.

"Are you serious?!" The older woman shrieked making her niece wince. "Oh baby that's a great thing. Of course you can. I'll give you the first slot and everything."

"Actually, I'd like to have the last slot. I know that's a lot to ask, but I talked it over with Debra and the other Dynamites. They were more than okay with it. See, it's Denise's husband's birthday, and they wanted the night off," Anita admitted and Maybelle thought it over for a second.

"You sure about this Anita?" Maybelle asked looking at her. Her usual flair and vivaciousness was muted as she looked her niece in the eye. Anita met her gaze with no hesitation.

"I am not sure, but I want to try. I finally wrote the song that I want no other to sing instead."

Anita stood backstage composing herself. Her brand new white heels clicked as she paced back and forth. The bright lights in the dingy dressing room made her lavender dress shine. She surprised herself and Maybelle when she requested that it have no sleeves. Maybelle decided to give her another sweetheart neckline. The bodice was tight, but showed off Anita's figure in a tasteful way. The dress danced the line between being elegant and scandalous. It ended just below her knee. Elbow length, white satin gloves covered her balmy hands. It was the most skin Anita had ever shown in public before. Her makeup was light and glossy. Her hair was in an elegant up-do. Maybelle had spent a solid two hours before the show doing her niece's hair and makeup.

"And next, we have Anita Marron performing her new song, At Last," Maybelle announced positively beaming into the television screen. There dancers were paired off and ready to go, but the spotlight was pointed directly on Anita.

Everyone waited with bated breath as she walked up to the microphone. The small group of musicians that usually played started up the music.

"At last," She sang and everyone stopped.

"My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song."

The dancers began to move, but their eyes didn't wander far from the woman singing. Her voice seemed to swell with each new line sung; her confidence grew stronger.

Corny, who she had requested attend that night, stood next to the camera man and his heart wrenched in his chest. Anita unhooked the microphone from it's stand and stood in clear view of the camera man.

"Oh yeah yeah

At last

The skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you"

Velma stood dumbstruck. She intended to have Amber singing this song on the next airing of their show. Only problem was that she wasn't sure that her daughter had the voice for it. Having a negro on the show was out of the question. Perhaps Anita could write another like it for her singers…

Anita continued to blow the crowd away with each line. Her eyes were glued to Corny who was conveniently standing where she could stare at him without appearing to look away from the camera.

There was so much emotion in her voice. It was unmistakeable that she was singing to someone. Maybelle was the only only person who had any idea who.

"Oh yeah yeah

You smiled, you smiled

Oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

for you are mine...

At Last"

(Etta James, "At Last" 1961)

The applause thundered through the crowd as the lights went back up. Anita took a bow to the camera and sauntered off-stage with her head held high. No one noticed that her hands were shaking, and her eyes darted nervously. Corny watched transfixed as she disappeared backstage.

"And that's it for today's Negro Day brought to you by Ultra Clutch's Straight and Great. Turn those frizzy curls into a hair style worthy of a night on the town or that new job! See you next month," Maybelle rattled off at a record pace eager to see her niece.

Corny raced out as she made the announcement wanting to get a moment with Anita before she was bombarded left.

He knocked loudly on the door to her dressing room. The door swung open and there she stood, the same as she had looked onstage. Her eyes were downcast and she fiddled with the ends of her hair.

"We have no time right now as your aunt's on her way.. Meet me tonight at the record store? Don't bother changing just come straight away," Corny requested almost desperately. As soon as she nodded, he left.

Standing there was a test on his control. Corny wanted to do so much, but knew he would be putting them both at risk if he were to so much as touch her. His hands were shaking from something he was not quite sure how to explain. He ran out to his car and gripped the steering wheel catching his breath. He wanted to shout and dance, but settled on driving himself to the back of the record store.

The entire ride there he rehearsed what he would say to her, and how he would act. He felt as though his heart were going to beat out of his chest as he pulled up behind the record store.

He beat her there by 10 minutes. Anita had convinced Maybelle that she had no desire to celebrate and to drop her off at the record store. She made some excuse about wanting to have some solitude and pick up some things she had left there. Maybelle gave her a knowing look and pulled in front of the record store.

"I'm not blind Anita. Call me when you're done meeting Mr. Collins. We'll talk when you get home," Maybelle spoke not unkindly, but with a serious edge to her voice. Anita simply nodded at her aunt and exited the vehicle. There had been many a woman ruined in her day by white men who waited until the night to prowl the streets of their neighborhood. Corny was not like those men, but there was a danger still there.

"Also, Anita," Maybelle called, and her niece turned, the skirt of her dress twirling behind her. "You were amazing tonight."

They both shared a smile and Anita walked into the store and through to the back.

Corny jumped out of his car as soon as he got there and jogged inside the opened door.

"Corny I-" She started when she saw him, but was cut off by his lips on hers.

Corny's arms wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him as they kissed. Anita's hand rested on his face. It had all the drama and flair that a first kiss of this kind should. A year's worth of pent up longing and emotion were released as their lips touched. Corny held on to her as though his life depended on it, and her cool touch gradually soothed him of the urgency with which he kissed her so intensely.

Eventually, he pulled away from her and looked down at her. Her eyes were still closed, and her already full lips were still pursed from the kiss. He let out a groan, before capturing them again with a much more gentle, savory kiss.

This time Anita broke it off, panting and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Over a year now," Corny whispered. "I've been wanting to do that for over a year."

"Since the first time you saw me at my auntie's store?" She asked splaying her hands over his chest.

"No… the day I saw you wearing a white dress trying to tinkering with an engine you knew nothing about how to fix. You did all that and didn't get even a spot on your dress. Sassed the hell out of me too," Corny confessed still holding her to him.

Anita smiled against his shoulder. "You deserved it scaring me like that."

They were silent for a moment before Anita spoke again.

"You liked the song?"

Corny had to bite back an angry retort at that. She had no right going and turning his life upside down with a three minute long song and then second guessing herself about it. He wanted to shake her, kiss her, or reassure her. He settled on doing two of the three.

"You completely wrecked me on live television, and looked me in the eye the whole time," He answered her after he pulled away. She looked confused and so he continued.

"You gave me no warning Anita, you just poured your heart out to me- for me on live television. And even though you should know already how fervently I love you, you ask me that? You have some nerve."

He had to refrain from laughing from disbelief. Anita gaped at him like a fish before giving him a bashful smile.

"I love you too. It's the one song I could not stand letting anyone else sing, because I wrote it for you," She responded and he kissed her forehead.

Neither cared to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow meant that they had to have answers. They were satisfied with the simple joys of today.

~Chapter Fin~

Thank you for reading Chapter 1. Please review