“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 explained. “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.