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the right corner, a laugh in his eyes as he
contemplated me, wide-eyed and terrified walking into the terminal.
Dorothy was a tall woman, at least four or five inches taller than Holly. Her chauffeur was easily six feet two or three, I thought. He was trim, movie star sleek with that perfect Hollywood tan I saw on the faces of stars in fan magazines. The caramel tint emphasized his aqua eyes.
Dorothy waved. Beside them stood two uniformed policemen studying everyone who came from the plane. I waved back and hurried along.
"Melody?"
"Yes," I said.
"I just knew it was you. Didn't I, Spike?" she said as I approached.
"You had a good description," he said, widening his handsome smile.
"Oh dear me, look at you. You're so sweet," she said. "Isn't she just the freshest little thing you've ever seen, Spike?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said gawking at me, a silent laugh on his lips.
"Welcome to Los Angeles," Dorothy declared. "My sister has told me all about you, but of course, I want to get to know you for myself. I'm sure half the things she told me are either exaggerations or figments of that wild imagination of hers. Spike, take her briefcase. Briefcase?" she asked herself, raising her eyebrows as soon as she said it. "Why would you be carrying something so . . . ugly? Couldn't my sister provide you with a suitable bag? Something more feminine?"
"It's not mine. I'm doing someone a favor," I said and gazed past them, looking for the man with the sign.
"Favor?" Dorothy looked at Spike. He shrugged.
"I met someone at the airport in New York, a banker. He was on his way here when he had an emergency and had to go back to the city. He asked me to take this to Los Angeles and give it to a man who held up a sign with his name, Fonsworth," I said still looking past them. "But I don't see him."
"What nerve," Dorothy said. "Especially to burden a young girl coming here for the first time." She looked at Spike again, whose smile had evaporated and been replaced with a frown that put furrows in his forehead. His eyes went to the policemen behind me and then he reached quickly for the briefcase, practically pulling it out of my hands. I thought he was being rather rude and I was about to protest. After all, it was my responsibility. He stepped away quickly.
"Did you have a nice flight, dear? Sometimes it's bumpy and they always manage to serve you your food just when it's bumpy. I don't fly unless I can fly first class anymore, not that it's less bumpy, but at least you know you'll be a little more comfortable. So, you must tell me all about yourself and your adventure and of course, tell me all about my sister. I hope you don't believe half the things she claims to be able to do. We'll have lunch," she added before I could utter a syllable. "After Spike gets your luggage."
She took a deep breath. Spike remained a few steps in front of us.
"I really want to get that briefcase to the man," I said. "I promised and I feel responsible."
"Of course, dear. Spike?"
He turned as we reached the long corridor.
"The gentleman she's looking for must be down at the baggage carousel, don't you think?" Dorothy said.
He paused, looked past us, and then started to open the briefcase, but it was locked.
"I don't think you should do that," I protested.
"I'll be right back," he told Dorothy as he headed into the men's room.
"Why doesn't he let me take care of the briefcase?" I asked.
"I swear, I have no idea," she said. "He's an actor, of course, and like all of them, he's moody and unpredictable. Everyone in L.A. these days is either trying to get into the entertainment industry or selling real estate. Enough about Spike. Please tell me about you. Where did you meet my sister?"
I told her about Provincetown and Kenneth, Holly's arrival at the beach and how we became friends.
"She still drives that ridiculous circus car?"
"Yes," I said, laughing and thinking about the bright psychedelic colors.
"She had her ears pierced when she was only eight, you know. She had a friend do