"Oh yeah? Well, what do you need with something that expensive now?"

"She wanted me to have it," I said dryly.

He backed out of the driveway and looked at me. "I got an acquaintance who can turn a new dress like that into hard cash, which we could use.

Especially since you ain't worn it yet and I bet it still has the tags on it, right?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"I don't want to sell this," I said. "It was a present. It meant a lot to her to give it to me."

"Is that so? What are you, a millionaire? You going to pay the first six months rent for us? You going to buy tomorrow's groceries, pay the electric and gas bills? Pay for my car insurance? I gotta cart you girls around town to the auditions, to the jobs.

That takes gas money, upkeep. There's expenses here," he whined. "If you want to be part of this, you gotta put in your share. How much money did the old lady back in Provincetown give you for traveling?" he demanded. "Huh?"

"She bought my tickets and gave me . . . five hundred dollars," I said. She had given me two thousand, but I knew where Richard's questions were heading.

"Well, where's the money?"

"I spent nearly all of it coming out here," I said.

"What's left?"

"A hundred dollars."

"That's all? All right. Give me seventy-five and keep twenty-five for pocket money so I don't have to give you any for a while. Go on, give it to me," he said. "I'll need to have some seed money to find you a job now, too."

I opened my purse and counted out the seventy-five without his seeing how much was really there.

When I handed it to him he shoved it into his pocket without another word.

"Good. That makes sense. I'll find you work,"

he promised.

I curled up in the corner of the seat and gazed out the window as Beverly Hills fell behind us.

"There's my house," Richard claimed, nodding at a large home with Grecian columns in the front.

"It's only a matter of time," he said with a confident laugh.

Matter of time? Matter of centuries, I thought, but kept it to myself. My eyes filled with tears of determination. Somehow, somehow soon, I had to get Mommy away from him and away from all this.

As soon as we returned to the apartment, Richard told Mommy about my evening dress, but when Mommy saw it and then tried it on, she moaned and pleaded for him to let us keep it. She did look absolutely beautiful in it.

"I'll get a job where I'll need to wear something nice like this, Richard. Won't I?" she asked, spinning in front of the mirror. "And then, instead of having to rent something, I'll have it. And how about the wonderful, important parties you told me we would be attending soon? I'll need to look good for you, won't I? Oh please, let us keep it."

"People will be impressed Mammy has something so expensive," I added, "and clothing is important to people in the business, isn't it?" I offered to support her.

Richard glared at me.

"How do you know what's important to people in the business?"

"I met an actor who told me all about' it," I said.

"Oh, you met an actor. Big deal."

"She's right though, isn't she, Richard? You've told me that. That's why you needed the money for your nice jackets and suits," Mommy added.

He squirmed in his seat.

"We could get a nice piece of change for that."

"Mommy's got work and you said you were sure you could get me work soon anyway," I chimed.

He reddened with fury.

"That's right, Richard," Mommy said, checking her reflection in the mirror.

"You're going to keep calling her Mommy," he snapped at me. "You're bound to make a mistake in front of strangers."

"1 won't," I insisted.

"You better call me Sis or Gina even when we're alone, Melody," Mommy advised. "Get into the habit."

"All right. I will. You look beautiful in that dress, Gina," I added, enjoying the way Richard twisted in his seat as the prospect of losing the money for the dress sunk in deeper.

"Richard," she whined. "I've waited so long for something nice."

"All right, all right. Just this once, I'll change my mind, but next time when I decide something-"

"We'll listen. We promise," Mommy said.

He smirked, turned a suspicious eye at me and then went to watch television while Mommy and I got my room organized.

"The Livingstons must be so rich, Melody,"

Mommy said. "Such expensive gifts. But soon, I'll be able to buy myself things like this. I'll be driven in my Rolls to Beverly Hills and stroll into the most expensive stores, too," she said and pretended that my dingy room was a designer's boutique. "The salespeople will come rushing over, each eager to help me, to show me the latest fashion," Mommy continued. I sat on the bed and watched her pose as if she were gazing at a dress. "Yes, that might work.

What's that? Only five thousand dollars? What, is it on sale?"

She laughed and then spun around to look at herself in my evening dress once more. I laughed, too.

"It's beautiful," she said and sighed. Then she looked at me. "But it's really yours."

"No, it isn't Mommy, it's yours. I want you to have it, keep it in your closet."

"Really? Thank you, dear. But please," she said, whispering, "try, try to call me Sis or Gina." She gazed at the doorway. "Especially when he's here."

I nodded. She gave me a quick hug and then left to be with Richard.

It felt strange going to sleep in their apartment that first night because it reminded me of the trip from Sewell up to the Cape. I recalled the nights on the road, sleeping in motel rooms with them sleeping together nearby, just as they were tonight.

Back then I could only think of my stepdaddy and wonder how Mommy could hold and kiss someone else so quickly after my stepdaddy's death.

Maybe she was afraid of being alone, so afraid she would even cling to someone like Archie Marlin. He took advantage of her vulnerability and replaced her fears with pipe dreams. Was Mommy just too grief-stricken to notice? But what about now? What was her excuse for letting him rule her life now?

I felt so small and alone myself, sleeping in this dismal little room. If Mommy hadn't realized what sort of a man Archie Richard Marlin was by now, how could I hope to open her eyes? He held up the promise of glamour and fame, riches and respect. What could I offer in its place except the truth? And for Mommy, the truth might be too painful a pill to swallow.

Like so many other people in Los Angeles, dreams, no matter how false or impossible, were something she would much rather have. At least, I thought, I had found her, and at least now, there was a chance.

I was up before either of them the next morning. I made coffee and toasted some nearly stale bread. They didn't have much more to eat for breakfast, no cereals or eggs and very little jam or butter. Nevertheless, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee brought them out of the bedroom.

"Now this is more like it," Richard said. "I usually have to go out for some coffee. Your sister can't get her eyes open fast or wide enough to boil water first thing in the morning."

"Oh, Richard."

"What, am I telling her something she didn't know about you?" he said and laughed.

"We need some groceries," I said.

He raised his eyebrows.

"So, you still got a few bucks. While we're off to the mall for your sister's job, you go buy what you want," he said.

I made up my mind that was just what I would do.

"Clean up our room, too, while we're gone," he ordered. "I'm tired of living in a pigsty and until you start working and bringing in money, you'll earn your keep that way."

"I gave you money," I reminded him. He reddened.

"What money?" Mommy asked.

"Just some of her pocket money, hardly anything, but I need it to go riding up and down the valley seeing people and trying to get her a job, don't I? Well, don't I?" he pursued.

"Yes, I suppose so," Mommy agreed. It seemed there wasn't anything he couldn't make her think or say.

They drank their coffee, nibbled on some of the toast and then went to get dressed. I waited until they left and then I called Holly and told her where I was and what had finally happened.

"So you've decided to stay?"

"Yes," I said. Although I didn't tell her how Philip wanted me to leave, I did tell her how sad I thought Dorothy really was.

"She can't buy enough things to keep the darkness from her door," I told Holly.

"I know. It's a conversation she and I have had before. Maybe I should make another trip out there soon."

"I wish you would. She does miss you," I said.

"Listen to you, giving other people advice and trying to help them while your future is still uncertain.

Don't take on more than you can handle, sweetheart, and call me if you need me."

"I will. Thank you, Holly."

As soon as I hung up, I called Cary, hoping he might just be home. He wasn't, but Aunt Sara was eager to talk.

"Jacob's very sick," she told me. "It was worse this time. And now Cary's got me worried, too. He barely gets any rest between going on the boat, looking after our business and running up to the hospital. I'm on my way up there now."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Sara. I wish I were there to help you." "Are you all right, dear? I haven't even asked you how your search is going. I'm sorry."

"That's all right. You have enough on your mind. Just give Cary my phone number, please, but tell him not to call until he really has a free moment.

It's not any sort of emergency."

"I'm afraid it is here," she said in a tiny voice.

"We all try to be strong for Jacob, but it gets so hard to keep our spirits up."

I heard her start to sob and then she quickly excused herself and hung up. I felt awful about being away from Aunt Sara and the family when things were going so poorly. I felt myself pulled in every direction. Mommy also needed me, but she seemed to have chosen her predicament. Cary and Aunt Sara and May had no choice.

Where did I really belong?

It seemed like I had been searching for home forever. Just when I thought I'd found it. . . .

8.

A Star Shines .

After I got dressed, I went downstairs and asked a man working on the grounds where the closest grocery store was. He spoke broken English mixed with Spanish words, but I remembered enough from my high school Spanish class to communicate with him. The supermarket was a little more than three long blocks away. When I got there and saw all the delicious produce, I wanted to fill my cart, but thinking about the long walk home kept me from going wild. It was already hot and sticky, with only little puffs of clouds lazily sliding toward the horizon.

A nice day for a stroll but not for lugging groceries around.

A handsome young man with dark brown hair was just turning in his apron at the next counter when I checked out, and I caught him looking my way as I was paying the cashier. As I walked from the store, struggling not to spill anything out of my two bags and hoping the bottoms wouldn't burst, I heard someone behind me say, "You look like you could use a third arm."

I turned to see the handsome young man from the store. In the sunlight, his hair held hints of copper.

His laughing eyes were hazel with long eyelashes.

Although he wasn't what I would call muscular, he was well proportioned, sinewy, sleek, his face very masculine, especially around his mouth.