Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

She laughed.

"Are you sure you want to go dragging yourself into West Hollywood so quickly? Why not pamper yourself a bit, dear? Take a whirlpool bath, rest, watch some television on your own set. We'll have some hors d'oeuvres before Philip gets home and then we'll have a nice dinner---"

"It sounds wonderful, Dorothy, but I'd feel guilty. I'm not here to enjoy myself. I'm here to find my mother," I reminded her.

She sighed and shrugged.

"Everyone is in such a rush these days. Well, I'll tell Spike to be ready."

"Thank you. For everything," I said.

She flashed a smile and left me to take a shower and change my clothes. I was tired, nearly exhausted, but my excitement over being here and being so close to finding Mommy was stronger. I got into the shower and let the warm water wash over me until I tingled and then I got out, put on a pair of jeans and my best blouse, brushed out my hair, took a few deep breaths, closed my eyes and thought about Billy Maxwell and Holly sitting beside me, advising me on how to calm my nerves and gather my energy, energy I needed now more than ever.

Then I rose and set out to find my mother.

Thinking about the time that had passed since Mommy had left me with my stepfather's relatives in Provincetown, I was suddenly plagued by a new, albeit foolish fear. Had time and events changed me so that she might not recognize me, especially if she was suffering from some form of amnesia? It hadn't been all that long, but I felt so different. When I confronted her, how would I begin? It seemed ridiculous to walk up to someone and say, "Hello, remember me? I'm your daughter. You're my mother." If there were other people standing around, they would surely think I was mad.

As I stepped down the carpeted winding stairway and through the entryway to the front door, I felt myself shrink. It was an illusion, of course, stimulated by the size of everything around me, but more important, by the size of the task I was about to begin. I took a deep breath and stepped outside.

Spike was leaning against the limousine reading a copy of Variety. He looked up at me and smiled. Then he folded his paper and opened the rear door, stepping back in one graceful motion with a very affected and deliberate theatrical bow.

"Madam, he said.

"Thank you," I said in a voice barely above a whisper. I started to get in and paused. "Oh, here's the address," I said, handing him the slip of paper that might have held the key to my future. "Is it far away?"

"Nothing's far away in this town except a good part," he commented.

I got in and he closed the door and went around quickly to the driver's seat.

"Would you like to look at this?" he said, offering me the copy of Variety.

"No thank you," I replied.

He shrugged.

"I just thought you'd like to see what a Hollywood paper looked like. It's filled with all sorts of news about actors and actresses. You've never read one before, I bet," he muttered.

"No. I haven't had a reason to," I explained.

He laughed as he started the engine.

"I'm not trying to be an actress or anything," I added when the smirk remained on his lips.

"Every woman is an actress and therefore would love to be in movies," he quipped.

"Not me. And every woman is not an actress," I snapped back at him.

He laughed again. The patronizing smile that remained on his face was infuriating.

"I want to go to college and do other things," I continued, wondering why it was so important to me to explain myself.

"Your mother came out here to be an actress, didn't she?" he asked as we proceeded down the long driveway. My shoulders stiffened.

"If you're trying to be an actor, why are you a chauffeur?" I asked in reply.

He turned and looked at me to see if I were being serious.

"It takes a lot of time, intense studying, knocking on doors, hundreds of auditions until you get that one big break," he whined. "In the meantime, unless you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth or unless you have some rich friends who are willing to stake you, you take any job you can that pays for groceries and rent. This isn't a bad job for me. Mrs. Livingston gives me a lot of leeway. Whenever I have an important audition, she gives me the time off, even if it means she has to use a taxi service."