“Will it always be like this?” she whispered.
“Just till we die,” he said. “But right now, I’ve got two more days of leave, and there’s a lot to prepare between now and ‘I Do’,” Charlie said. “I gotta go shopping for a ring, get blood tests, fill out forms at the courthouse. The big thing is getting it cleared with my commanding officer.”
“He can’t stop you, can he?”
“No, but he can deny my request for leave.”
“They wouldn’t do that,” Diane said.
“It depends how bad they need me.”
“All right,” Diane said. “Let’s do what we can. Let’s get our blood test at the hospital today. It takes a day or less to get the results, but because I work there, I may be able to call in some favors. I’ll call you tonight.” The two showered together, got dressed and got busy. Charlie put a deposit on a lovely wedding ring.
“I’ll come back tomorrow to pay the balance,” he told the jeweler. He met Diane at the Tripler Army Medical Center, where they got their blood drawn. Charlie stopped by the courthouse to pick up marriage license forms, then went back to his hotel, where Major Hathaway sat waiting in the lobby.
“Major, you here on business or pleasure?” Charlie said.
“Business, I’m afraid. I just got word from your ship. Your leave has been cut short. There’s a transport plane leaving for the Enterprise at 4:30 tomorrow morning.”
“What’s this all about?”
“They’ll explain everything in detail when you get onboard, but apparently there was a time-sensitive mission about to commence when the squadron commander got a corneal abrasion playing basketball yesterday, and he’s not cleared to fly. You’re the back-up.”
“I’m not the only squadron leader on that ship. Can’t they find someone else.”
“I’m told it’s your crew, they specifically asked for you. A Lt. Lynwood in particular.”
“I’m on leave.”
“I know, but when a team has flown together as many times as yours has, they learn to anticipate each other. You have to respect that. Call it superstition, whatever, it’s that edge that gives them the confidence to get back in the cockpit and risk their lives because they believe in you.”
“Can’t this wait a couple of days?”
“Not according to intelligence. Lieutenant, that’s all I know.”
“Another bombing run,” Charlie thought to himself. “No different than the last 100 sorties I’ve flown in the past ten months. I can’t let my guys down. I’ll be done and back here in a week.” He drove over to Diane’s apartment to break the bad news.
“Let’s go get some dinner,” he said. She picked up on his somber tone immediately.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just a little hiccup,” he said. They drove down to the Sandpiper on the Beach, where they first had dinner, five days earlier. The waiter took their order and brought their drinks.
“Ok, now tell me what’s going on,” Diane said.
“I’ve been called back to the ship,” he said.
“Why? What for?”
“There’s a mission I have to lead. My crew is depending on me.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“No more than the last 100 I’ve flown.”
“When do you have to leave?”
“There’s a transport leaving the air base tomorrow morning at 4:30.”
“When will you be back?”
“Probably a week or less.”
“Let’s just get married now, before you go.”
“How are we going to do that? The courthouse is closed. Even if we found a minister tonight who would perform the ceremony, we don’t have the blood test results, so it wouldn’t be legal, just symbolic. I don’t even have your ring yet. Let’s just do it right next week.”
“Look at me. I’m already a wreck, and we’re not even married. I just can’t let go of you. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Of course, I will. I’ll be flying 500 feet off the ground where nobody can touch me.”
A dark cloud seemed to hover over their dinner, and conversation felt strained and heavy. They spoke of wedding plans, but the joy of things to come felt muted by the uncertain danger ahead. When he dropped Diane off at her apartment, he made her a gift and a promise. He unfastened his military watch and handed it to her.
“I don’t have an engagement ring yet, so I am giving you my watch as a token. It’s got my initials engraved on the back – ‘CD’ – so you know it’s mine. Keep it till I come back as a symbol of my pledge to you. The next time I see you, I’ll exchange it for a ring.”
They walked arm-in-arm to her front door. Under the front porch light they lingered and kissed. He returned to his car and rolled down the window.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
v
For the next week Diane busied herself with work to occupy her thoughts. Every day she waited for some word – a phone call, a telegram, something. After two weeks she tried writing a letter to him, and took it to Fort Derussey to be forwarded on. After it was returned unopened, she contacted Major Hathaway by phone for a status report on Charlie.
“I apologize for not keeping up on things like this, but how do you know Lt. Davis?”
“I’m his fiancée,” she said.
“Oh, I see,” he said. “Let me look into it.” Two days later Diane got a phone call from the Major.
“Miss Haley, I am so sorry to be the one to have to break this to you, but Lt. Davis’s plane was shot down while on a mission. He is currently listed as ‘Missing in Action’.” Diane felt her world caving in around her. “What does that mean exactly? He’s not dead?”
“That’s right – just missing.”
“Well, are they still looking for him?”
“He went down in enemy territory. They can’t exactly mount a search.” Diane didn’t know what to say next. “I’ll keep you informed if there is a change in his status.”
“Thank you,” she said.
As promised two months later she received word on Charlie’s new status. He went from “MIA” to “Presumed Dead.”
Chapter 13
Los Angeles 2021
Jan 5 - Annie landed in LAX in late afternoon. In the baggage claim area, a lean girl in her mid-30s, with wild bleached blonde hair down to her jaw, stood holding up the back side of a clipboard reading “Annie Belmont”. The bleached hair told the world “I’m on my own journey, so step back,” but the shock of blue hair running down the middle of it said “and I don’t really care what you think.” Her eccentric attire screamed Woodstock, with a long sleeve crew neck t-shirt, a vest on permanent loan from Gary Cooper’s three-piece suit collection, free-flowing skirt to her knees, blue tights, and Converse high-top tennis shoes. Annie stepped up.
“I’m Annie Belmont,” Annie said. The girl smiled.
“I recognized you right away,” she said. “I just used the sign so you’d know I was legit.”
“Legit for what?”
“I’ve been assigned to you while you’re here in L.A. We’ve got a limo waiting for us outside.” Annie knew the drill – that’s how she first met Phil back at the Billings Airport.
“So, you’re my driver?”
“No, I don’t drive those big tugboats. I’m going to be your handler. The technical title is ‘personal assistant’. My name’s Finola May. Everybody calls me Finney.”
“Ok, Finney,” Annie said.
“You’re going to be a busy girl these next four days. And it’s my job to keep you on schedule.” She flipped her clipboard right side up and scanned the long list of appointments. “Our first stop is Gucci’s in Beverly Hills tonight for your gown fitting. They’re pretty backed up, so we gotta get you in early. But judging by your frame, you could probably wear something right off the rack.”
“Welcome to Hollywood,” Annie thought. “Let me go get my bags,” Annie said. Finney waved her off.
“N
o way, that’s not your job. I got peeps for that.” She signaled a baggage handler, who wheeled over a dolly. “Just point’em out.”
The handler placed the bags in the trunk of the limo, and Finney slipped him a C-note. Then she and Annie climbed into the back seat of the shiny black stretch limo.
“Steve, Gucci’s – Beverly Hills,” Finney called out to the driver, then she pressed the button to raise the privacy window.
“Now we can relax,” Finney said. She pointed to the small bar. “Care for a drink?” Annie checked her watch – 5:00 p.m.
“I should eat something first,” Annie said.
“We got snacks,” Finney pointed to a small cabinet. “Chips, nuts, crackers, caviar, truffles, celery sticks.” Annie felt a craving for her one guilty pleasure.
“You wouldn’t happen to carry any chocolate mints?” Annie said. Finney opened a drawer at their feet to reveal a wide assortment of chocolate confections.
“If we don’t have it, we can fly it in,” Finney said. “And I’m not kidding.” Annie had long since ceased to be amazed at Hollywood’s capacity for excess. She just smiled and found one delicate chocolate to her liking. Once the limo turned onto the 405 Freeway, the girls started getting acquainted.
“I love you on the show,” Finney, gushed shamelessly. “I just love the way you play your character as a strong woman. You’re confident, brave, and you damn well know how to ride a horse.”
“Thanks,” Annie said. “What do you do when you’re not escorting cast members around?”
“I was a seamstress, in the wardrobe department, but a couple of years ago I got my hand caught in a piece of equipment and messed up my thumb,” Finney said. She demonstrated by trying to make a fist with her right hand. “I can’t really grip a pair of scissors like I used to. So, I got reassigned to ‘hospitality’ - personal assistant.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a head trip,” Finney said. “Instead of sewing a gaberdine coat for Robert Downey Jr. to play Sherlock Holmes, I fetch his bagels.” Annie smiled. “I think it’s a good fit for me – pardon the pun. I’ve got a healthy bit of OCD in me, so this job lets me channel my inner demons in productive ways.” Annie gazed out the window as the lights of the L.A. basin began to glimmer like a shimmering treasure chest.
“So, what’s with the blue hair?” Annie said. “We don’t see that in Montana much.”
“I don’t know. It keeps the guys off balance,” Finney said. “You like it?” Annie fought back a chuckle.
“It’s different.”
The limo pulled up to the front door of Gucci’s. Annie and Finney met Rolph.
“Ms. Belmont, we are so delighted you chose Gucci’s to make you look beautiful for the Golden Globes. We got your measurements in advance, and we took the liberty of selecting a handful of elegant gowns we believe will look absolutely stunning on you. If you and Ms. May will make yourself comfortable in our viewing lounge, we will bring them out for you to see.”
Six associates in turn presented a gallery of designer evening gowns on hangers, as Rolph described the fabric, theme and features of each. They included a pale blue sleeveless tulle ruffled gown, a deep red quarter sleeve embroidered sheer gown, and a long sleeve cobalt blue lace gown. Annie felt overwhelmed. She turned to Finney
“You know more about gowns than me. Which one do you like?”
“I think for your frame, you would rock the long sleeve lace gown,” Finney said. “Go try it on.” Annie and one of the female associates retired to a fitting room, and soon emerged for a showing. Finney’s face lit up.
“Girl, that is the bomb,” Finney said.
“You don’t think it’s too tight around the waist?” Annie asked.
“No way. You’ve got zero body fat, so I say show it off,” Finney said. Rolph offered a suggestion.
“We might take the back in a little, just so that gorgeous lace doesn’t gape anywhere.” Annie looked in the three-way mirror to see the back view.
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Annie said.
“Would you like to try on any of the other gowns?” Rolph said.
“Nope,” Finney said. “Don’t mess with perfection. Now, when can we pick up the gown?”
“The event is on the 9th, so you can pick it up the afternoon of the 8th.”
“Now, what about heels?” Finney said.
“We have Ms. Belmont’s shoe size. We will include 4-inch heels and a clutch purse.”
“Awesome,” Finney said. She turned to Annie, who felt dizzy at the speed with which her first award program gown was chosen.
“I thought this would take longer,” Annie said. Finney checked her watch.
“No time. You’ve got dinner with your agent in an hour. We’ve got to get you checked in at the Beverly Wilshire, then get you changed for dinner.”
Finney kept the parade moving, and delivered Annie to the Il Fornaio Restaurant, two blocks north, where Tony Sandoval, her agent, had reservations waiting.
“Just text me when you’re done,” Finney told Tony. “I’ll get her back to the Beverly Wilshire.” Tony nodded. Annie turned to Finney.
“What are you going to do for the next two hours?”
“I’m going to find a bar and sip on a martini,” Finney said.
Annie and Tony sat at an intimate corner table.
“Annie, you look terrific. How you feeling?” Tony said.
“It’s a lot to take in, but I’m good,” Annie said. Tony waved the wine steward over for his recommendation, then the waiter took their dinner order.
“I’ve been trying to gauge the conventional wisdom on your chances of winning, and I think you have a good shot,” Tony said. “But either way, you win. The job offers are already rolling in.”
“I’m not sure how much more work I can handle,” Annie said. “I’m already maxed out.”
“Of course, we just let everyone get into a bidding war, so which ever project you choose brings you top dollar.”
Finney took a seat at the Beverly Wilshire bar.
“I’ll have a Diamondback,” she told the bartender.
“Don’t believe I know that one,” he said.
“Half ounce whiskey, ¾ ounce apple brandy, ¾ ounce green chartreuse. Serve in a martini glass and garnish with a cherry,” she explained.
“Gotcha. Sounds potent,” the bartender said.
“It’s what you drink after a really good week or a really bad day.”
“What’s the occasion this time around?”
“I’ll let you know after the Globes,” Finney said. She continued to tread water at the bar, fending off three businessmen hitting on her by introducing herself as “Susie Piss Off”. At 9:40 her cell phone buzzed. She read the text on the screen “Come get her.”
In the limo ride, Finney prepped Annie for the next day.
“You ever been through one of these marathon press junkets?” Finney asked.
“No. Should I worry?”
“Depends on your threshold for pain. Here’s what’s gonna happen. The production company has arranged to take over a convention room at the Beverly Wilshire tomorrow. Then, they’ve scheduled as many foreign press interviews as we can handle in one day.”
“How many are we talking?”
“They’ve got 30 international journalists scheduled, twenty minutes each. That’s ten hours. You’ll get one bathroom break per hour, a break for lunch, and a break for dinner. We’ll start at 8:00 a.m., so, you should be done by 8 or 9:00 pm, if you still have any brain cells left.”
“That shouldn’t be too bad,” Annie said.
“Bravely spoken,” Finney said. “Just brace yourself. They’re all going to ask the same questions, ‘cause they got no imagination, and you’re going to have to figure out some way of making the 20th time you’ve answered that question sound fresh. They’re gonna get personal. They’re gonna want to know about your love life, because, after all, you’re single. They’ll want to know your poli
tical affiliations, your feelings about climate change, stuff they have no business asking.”
“So, what do I say?”
“If it’s not related to the show, and you don’t mind answering it, then have at it. Otherwise, you got three choices – ‘I don’t know’, ‘I don’t remember’, or ‘None of your damned business,’ ” Finney said. “But don’t forget to smile.”
Before Annie went to sleep in her luxurious hotel room, she turned out the lights and pulled up the covers, then dialed a number on her cell phone.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Phil said. “How are you holding up down there?”
“I’ve got a gown, and I’ll tell you one thing – I’ve never bought a dress so fast in my life.”
Chapter 14
Jan 6 – First full day – interviews with the Hollywood Foreign Press. While there are about 90 members, not all choose to participate in pre-ceremony interviews. The convention center at the Beverly Wilshire occupied the entire second floor. The main auditorium could hold a maximum of 1,500 people, reserved for large corporate gatherings. Around the perimeter various breakout rooms served a variety of uses for smaller seminars, sales presentations, Q & A sessions, and intimate events. The production company for Rangeland reserved one of these smaller breakout rooms for press interviews, along with a PR person to ride herd on everybody.
The production company provided two chairs and two cameras. A side table contained refreshments for everyone, and included bottled water, coffee, tea, and assorted pastries, fruits and veggies.
The far corner of the room served as the interview area, framed from behind with a floral tapestry to give the background a rich, but muted, tone. A chair sat poised for Annie, pre-measured to make sure her feet touched the carpet. Lighting bathed the area in a warm glow designed to flatter Annie’s skin tone.
Finney met with Annie in her hotel room.
“How you feeling this morning? Ready to knock ‘em over?” Finney said. Annie and her hair dresser were just finishing.
The Sanctuary II: Lost and Found Page 9