by Joanne Fluke
Hannah reached for her seat belt, but her mother shook her head. “Wait until the sign goes off, dear. We have to stay seated until we reach the gate with the jetway in place.”
“Yes, of course we do,” Hannah chided herself for not remembering the protocol she’d learned on previous flights. “Until we reach a full and complete stop. Right, Mother?”
“That’s right.” Delores glanced at her watch. “We seem to be here right on time, dear. I hope Lynne got the schedule I sent her.”
“I’m sure she did. Lynne’s always been the type to be on time. I wonder if she’s coming to meet us herself, or whether we should take a taxi?”
“When I talked to her last night, she said she’d be here. And if something unexpected happened, she’d send a car service for us.”
It seemed to take forever to taxi up to the gate, and they had to wait for another few minutes for the jetway to be locked into position. At last the seat belt sign went off and Hannah stood up to open the shell above their heads to pull down their carry-on luggage. They joined the line in the aisle and soon they were walking down the jetway to the terminal.
“The stewardess said our luggage would be on carousel seven,” Delores said, pointing to the sign that indicated the way to the baggage claim area.
As they walked inside the cavernous area filled with carousels that delivered luggage to the passengers waiting below, Delores stopped and gestured to a uniformed man standing next to carousel seven. “Lynne sent a car service. He has two signs, one with your name and one with mine.”
“Ladies,” the man greeted them. “I’m Robby, Mrs. Larchmont’s driver. Did you have a pleasant flight?” When they assured him they had, he got a luggage cart, asked them to identify their luggage, and escorted them out of the building. He then led them across the street and into the limousine parking area. Once he had seated them in the car, he loaded their suitcases in the back, started the car, and drove out of the airport.
“This is nice,” Hannah said, reaching for one of the bottles of water that had been placed in the console in front of them.
“Is water all right, or would you care for another beverage?” the driver asked her.
“Water is perfect,” Hannah told him. And it was, but she couldn’t help wondering what other beverages he might have offered.
“And for you, Ma’am?” the driver asked Delores.
“What other choices do I have?” Delores responded.
“I have several kinds of juice in the mini fridge between the seats in the back. And I also have a small bottle of Perrier Jouët. Mrs. Larchmont mentioned that it was your favorite champagne.”
“How very sweet of her! Of course I’ll have that.”
“Very good, Ma’am. If you open the small refrigerator in front of you, you’ll find champagne glasses and several individual bottles.”
Once they had driven out of the parking garage, they turned onto a city street lined with shops and office buildings. They drove for several minutes in silence, and then Robby spoke again.
“Normally, I’d take the freeway to Mrs. Larchmont’s home in Brentwood, but she asked me to give you a mini tour. Is that acceptable to you?”
Delores looked at Hannah, who nodded. “Yes, it is. We’d enjoy that.”
“Good. We’re about a mile from the airport now and if you look up, through the passenger compartment moon roof, you might see a jet flying overhead on approach to the airport. It will be low and it’s startling when you see how big it looks when you’re down here on the ground. I’ll stop and park, and you’ll see what I mean.”
There was a parking spot in the block ahead and their driver parked at the curb. “We won’t have to wait long,” the driver told them. “Jets fly over here every five minutes or so.”
Less than a minute later, Hannah heard a plane coming closer. The noise grew louder and louder, and both Hannah and Delores stared up at the glass in the moon roof. When the roar was almost loud enough to cause Hannah to cover her ears, she spotted a shadow and then a humongous plane passed directly over their limo.
“Good heavens!” Delores gasped, turning to Hannah. “Did you see that?”
“I saw it. I thought it was going to crash right into us!”
Their driver chuckled. “It was actually several hundred feet above us, but it does seem that way when you’re down here on the street. It’s always a thrill the first time you see it.”
“Thank you for showing it to us,” Hannah said as the driver put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
“There’s more in store,” the driver told her. “Mrs. Larchmont asked me to take you past the studio where she’ll be working next week. She called ahead and got a pass for us so we can drive around the lot.”
Hannah stared out the window. Los Angeles appeared to be a huge, sprawling city with more cars and traffic than she had ever seen before. It seemed as if everyone was in a hurry, and horns blared when there was the slightest delay.
“It’s so green!” Delores commented as they drove down a street lined with palm trees.
“Actually, it’s greener in the summer,” Robby told her. “Right now it’s winter green, and that’s a pale imitation of the darker, more brilliant green we get in the spring.”
“Maybe we’re just used to winter in Minnesota,” Hannah told him. “We live with a black and white landscape for four or five months every year. The only color we get is the blue of the sky, as long as it’s not an overcast day.”
“Quite a few people leave for a couple of months in the winter,” Delores said, entering the conversation. “We call them snowbirds and when the snow starts to fly, they migrate to Florida or California. Winter can be very depressing because it’s the same scene outside your window every morning. Snow, snow, and more snow.”
“That sounds boring,” Robby commented. “It must be a real treat for you to come here. Change is good.”
“Yes, it is,” Hannah agreed, and then she gasped as the driver pulled up in front of a pair of ornate gates. “Where are we?”
“Paramount Studios. It’s one of the older studios in this area. Most of the others have changed names, but this one is still Paramount.”
“And this is where all the movies are made?” Delores asked him.
“Not so much anymore. A lot of production companies have moved to other states, and some film in Canada. Toronto is a thriving film city now.”
“Why did the companies move there?” Hannah asked.
“Taxes. California taxes are among the highest in the nation. There are lots of regulations, too. If you want to film a scene on a city street, you have to apply for a permit and pay to use it for a location. It’s one of the reasons we’re losing so much of our film and television industry.”
“You seem to know a lot about it,” Delores commented.
“I do. I haven’t been a limo driver all my life, you know.”
Hannah and Delores exchanged glances. Should they recognize Robby as an actor in a film or television program they’d seen? Would it be an insult if they asked him what he’d meant by his cryptic statement?
Hannah shook her head slightly, and Delores nodded agreement. Discretion was the better part of valor in this case. It might be insulting if they admitted that they didn’t recognize him, especially if he’d been someone well-known. They could always ask Lynne about him later.
Once Robby had given their names to the guard at the studio gate and they were allowed to pass, the driver drove down a narrow street.
“Oh, look!” Hannah said, pointing to the empty parking lot. “Why is the parking lot painted blue?”
“That’s the Pacific Ocean,” Roby told them, “or at least it was the Pacific Ocean in several movies about the Second World War.”
“But how could it be?” Delores asked him. “War movies have ships and submarines. That parking lot isn’t big enough to hold ships and submarines!”
“It is if the ship or submarine is a miniature model,” Robby e
xplained. “And the cement is painted blue because they flood it when they want to film a water scene. It’s been the Pacific Ocean, the Atlantic Ocean, even the China Sea. And let me tell you, the people who park there aren’t any too happy about giving up their parking spot for a week or two every couple of months.”
After a quick tour of the lot, Robby took them through Hollywood and down Rodeo Drive, where he pointed out stores with famous designer names. Delores was clearly fascinated, and Hannah watched as her mother took in every display in the shop windows.
“Do you want to stop and go into one of the shops?” Hannah asked her.
“No, dear. I might want to buy something and I’m not sure I could afford it. It’s not like the Tri-County Mall, you know. I could buy something if I really wanted to, but . . .”
“But what?” Hannah asked.
“Look!”
Delores pointed and Hannah looked. There was a red patent leather bikini covered with a filmy, flowing float in a window filled with tote bags and sun hats. “You’re not thinking of buying something like that, are you, Mother?”
“Good heavens, no! I was just trying to decide if I disliked anyone enough to give them something like that for a gift.”
“Are you ready to go to Mrs. Larchmont’s home yet?” Robby asked them.
“I’m ready,” Hannah said, and then she turned to her mother. “How about you, Mother?”
“I’m definitely ready.”
“All right, then.” Robby turned onto another street and drove past homes that were set so far back from the street, Hannah could barely glimpse them. “What area of Los Angeles is this?” she asked.
“Brentwood.”
“The houses are very large,” Delores commented.
“Yes, I don’t believe there are any houses, except for guest houses, of course, that have less than six bedrooms.”
Hannah and Delores exchanged glances. “Is Lynne’s house that large?” Hannah asked him.
“Yes, I believe it’s an eight-bedroom, ten-bath home. Mrs. Larchmont lives on an estate that once belonged to Harlan Cornell.”
Again, Hannah and Delores exchanged glances. Neither one of them recognized the name, but Harlan Cornell must be some sort of celebrity here in Los Angeles. Robby had spoken his name in an almost-reverent manner.
“My goodness,” Delores commented.
“Yes, indeed,” Hannah added, although she was clueless regarding Mr. Cornell’s identity and she strongly suspected that her mother was, too.
“And here we are,” Robby announced, turning into a circular driveway lined with flowering bushes in a variety of colors. “The house is right over this rise.”
One glimpse of the house and Hannah reached out to squeeze her mother’s hand. Lynne’s home was a massive sparkling white house that was set in the midst of a perfectly manicured lawn that stretched back as far as they could see. The property was bordered by large trees which effectively hid it from the neighboring homes and gave the illusion of exclusivity. The house itself was built in the Colonial style with huge columns in front supporting a veranda with a second-story balcony above it.
“How beautiful!” Delores breathed, staring at the impressive structure.
Hannah simply nodded. She was a bit too awed by the sight of Lynne’s home to speak. It was the largest home she’d ever seen. No wonder Lynne had told Delores that she had plenty of room and invited them to stay with her!
As the limo pulled up in front of the doorway, Lynne stepped out and hurried out to the car to greet them. She pulled open the door, not waiting for Robby, helped Delores out, and gave her a hug. “I’m so glad to see you two! Come in and let’s get you settled. Don’t worry about your luggage. Robby will bring it in.”
Robby opened Hannah’s door and extended his arm to help her out of the car while Lynne escorted Delores to the double doors at the front of the house. They crossed the wide veranda and Hannah followed them inside.
“Wow!” Hannah exclaimed, catching sight of the huge chandelier that hung in the foyer. “That’s humongous, Lynne!”
“I know. Remember how I always said I wanted a house with a chandelier when we were in college?”
“I remember,” Hannah told her, but she didn’t mention the rest of the memory. Every time she’d been a guest in Lynne and Ross’s small apartment, Lynne had voiced her wish for a chandelier. And Ross had draped his arm around Lynne’s shoulder and promised that once they got married and bought their first house, he’d make sure that she had her chandelier.
“Is it very hard to keep clean?” Hannah asked, gazing up at the gleaming crystals.
“Yes, and I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Maria to keep it clean and sparkling. Once every two months, Robby gets out the ladder and removes all the fobs, facets, and crystal pendants so Maria can put them through the dishwasher.”
“Through the dishwasher?” Delores asked, looking positively shocked.
“Yes, she runs them through the wash cycle, but she uses the air-dry feature. Robby and Maria were part of Tom’s staff when I married him, and Maria told me that she’s been cleaning it that way for years. Once the crystals have gone through the air cycle, she wipes any moisture away with a soft cotton cloth.”
Delores looked impressed, and Hannah wondered whether her mother would install a chandelier in the foyer of the penthouse that Doc had given to her as a wedding present. There was no question that Doc would indulge Delores if she truly wanted one.
“I think my ceiling is too low for something like that,” Delores said, and Hannah gave a little smile. She’d accurately read her mother’s envious expression.
Lynne turned to Robby, who had followed them in with the luggage. “I’ll put Hannah in the Rose bedroom, Robby. And Delores will have the gold one.”
“Very good, Mrs. Larchmont.” Robby turned toward the wide staircase that led up to the second floor.
“I’ll let them go up and get settled, and then we’ll go out to a late lunch,” Lynne told him. “Will you please make reservations at the French Room, Robby? Let’s say for three-thirty?”
“Of course, Mrs. Larchmont,” Robby said, and then he turned to Hannah and Delores. “If you ladies would care to come with me, I’ll show you to your rooms.”
Hannah and Delores followed Robby up the wide, carpeted staircase and down a lengthy hallway. They passed several doors and stopped at one near the end of the hallway. “This room is yours,” he said to Hannah, opening the door and ushering her in.
“It’s beautiful!” Hannah declared, entering the bedroom Lynne had chosen for her. The walls were painted a lovely shade of rose, and the curtains were a velvety shade of yellow.
“Your bathroom is right through here,” Robby told her, opening another door and gesturing toward a large bathroom that was decorated in a reversal of colors with velvety yellow walls and lovely rose-colored curtains and towels. It was complete with a roomy shower stall and a huge bathtub with so many jets around the inside of the tub that Hannah was almost sure it also served as a Jacuzzi.
“And this is your closet,” Robby said, opening another door to reveal a walk-in closet. “I’ll set up the racks for your suitcases on the adjoining wall.”
Hannah watched as Robby unfolded two luggage racks and positioned them on the far wall next to the closet. He lifted her luggage effortlessly onto the racks and turned back to her. “Would you like me to unpack for you?”
“Oh! Uh . . . no, thank you. I can do it myself,” Hannah said quickly. There was no way she wanted Robby to see some of her favorite clothing, especially because she hadn’t purchased anything new in several years, as well as several pairs of what Delores called unmentionables. Robby had obviously been trained as a butler, and the other guests that Lynne and Tom had entertained undoubtedly had undergarments that were much pricier and more stylish than the white cotton ones that Hannah purchased at CostMart.
“I’ll get your mother settled, then,” Robby told her, heading for the doo
r.
“Wait!” Hannah said quickly. “Could you tell me a little about the French Room?”
“Of course. What would you like to know?”
“The name sounds very fancy,” Hannah said choosing her words carefully. “Is it the type of restaurant where everyone dresses up?”
Robby shook his head. “Not really. Mrs. Larchmont often stops by the French Room for a bite after a day at the studio. And then she’s usually wearing comfortable clothes.”
“Yes, but Lynne’s comfortable clothes probably cost more than everything in both of my suitcases!”
Robby chuckled. “You could be right, Ma’am. Mr. Larchmont always wanted her to dress in the height of fashion and she shopped at the finest boutiques.”
Hannah took Robby’s chuckle to heart. He’d been clearly amused by her comment. “Please call me Hannah, not Ma’am. I think my mother would like to be a Ma’am, but I’m just Lynne’s friend from college.”
Robby considered that for a moment. “Would it be all right if I called you Miss Hannah? I wouldn’t want Mrs. Larchmont to think I was being too familiar.”
“That’s fine with me,” Hannah said quickly. “I was hoping you could help me out, Robby. If I show you what I was planning to wear, would you tell me if it’s appropriate? There’s no way I want to embarrass Lynne by wearing something that’s . . .”
“Too casual?” Robby asked.
“Yes.”
“And I doubt you’d want to embarrass your mother, either,” Robby said with a smile. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why not? You’re right.” Hannah walked over to one of her suitcases and pulled out a forest green pantsuit that her mother had given to her as a present. “Do you think this would be all right to wear?”
“Yes, indeed. It would be perfect. It’s a good color for you with your hair.”
“Thank you.” Hannah smiled at him. “You’d better go help my mother now. She’s probably getting impatient.”
