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Chicago that had seemed as big as the ocean to her. And Hollywood.
She'd liked the big white sign, and remembering it, tried to picture all
the letters.
Her father had played at a huge theater there right outside. They had
called it a bowl. She had thought that strange, but it had been fun to
listen to the cheers and screams rising on the open air.
She'd celebrated her birthday, her third birthday, in Hollywood.
Everyone had come to eat the white cake with the little silver b.a.l.l.s on
top.
They had gotten into a plane almost every day. And every day it had
scared her, but she'd been able to battle back the sickness. There had
been a lot of people with them. Readies her father called them. Which
seemed silly since they were so often in the air, and not on any road at
all.
She'd liked the hotels best, with room service and new beds almost every
night. She'd liked looking out the window at new places and new people
every morning.
With a yawn, she settled back with the dog snuggled under her arm.
When they went to a hotel again, Darren could go with them. Everyone
would love him.
Watching the sleet made her sleepy. And she thought of Christmas. It
had been the first she'd ever had with a stocking hanging from the
mantel with her name on it. Under the tree they had decorated had been
stacks and stacks of presents. Thys and games and dolls in pretty
dresses. They'd all played Snakes and Ladders in the afternoon. Even
Stevie. He'd pretended to cheat to make her laugh, then had taken her
on a screaming piggyback ride through the house.
Afterward her father had carved a big Christmas goose. When gluttony
had made her sleepy, she had curled up in front of the fire and had
listened to the music.
It had been the best day of her life. The very best. Until this one.
The sound of a car roused her. Pressing her face against the window
again she peered out. With a screech, she leaped off the seat.
"Johnno! Johnno! They're here." She went flying down the hallway, her
shoes clattering on the wood floor that had been painstakingly
refinished and polished.
"Hold on." Johnno stopped scribbling the lyrics that had been playing in
his head to catch her on the run. "Who's here?"
"My Dad and Bev and my baby."
"Your baby, is it?" He tugged on her nose, then turned to Stevie
who was experimenting with chords at the piano. "Shall we go welcome
the newest McAvoy?"
"Be right along."
"I'm coming." P.M. stuffed the last of a tea cake into his mouth before
he rose from the floor. "Wonder if they managed to get out of the
hospital without being mobbed."
"The precautions Pete took makes James Bond look like a piker. TWo decoy
limos, twenty burly guards, and the final escape in a florist truck."
With a laugh, he started down the hall with Emma in tow. "Fame makes
beggars of us, Emma luy, and don't you forget."
