“Frankie? You still there?” Marco barked into the phone.
“Yes, Marco. Sorry, we had a bad connection for a minute. You know how these cell phones are in the city.”
“So how about I fix you our special tonight? Eggplant Milanese. A little fresh mozzarella and basil.”
“Sounds divine. And a tricolore salad, too, please.”
“Molto bene!” Marco exclaimed. “You wanna pick up or delivery?”
“Can you deliver, please? I’ve had a long day, and I just finished working on a project.”
“A project? Frankie? It’s past dinnertime! You work too hard.”
“Oh no, Marco. This is a fun project. Three of my friends and I are going on a cruise for New Year’s Eve.”
“A cruise? You no gonna stay in the city? Watch-a the ball drop?” Marco’s Italian accent was always bright and cheerful. In reality, he should have lost the accent by now. He had been in America since he was fifteen, but it seemed to work in his favor. It gave him more authenticity.
“Nah. So far, none of us have dates, so we decided to get a tan and some duty-free perfume.” Frankie laughed lightly.
“I don-a understand. Such a pretty girl like you. And so smart. I tell Anita all the time. I worry you’re alone.”
“Aw, thanks, Marco, but I’m OK. Really. I may be alone, but I’m not usually lonely.” She stroked Bandit’s belly.
“OK, Frankie. But you know if you ever get lonely, you come to me and Anita. Capisce?”
“Capisce!” Frankie smiled at the phone.
“I’ll send Giovanni over with your dinner in about half an hour, forty-five minutos.”
“Molto bene! Grazie!” Frankie used what little Italian she knew. Neither she nor her cousins had been taught to speak Italian. Their parents wanted them all to be as American as possible. The only time her grandparents would speak in their native language was when they didn’t want the kids to know what they were talking about. Consequently, they learned the basic greetings and all the curse words.
“Prego!” Marco replied “Ciao, Frankie!”
“Ciao, Marco!” Frankie put down the phone and went into the kitchen to pour a glass of Chianti and grab plates, silverware, and napkins. She found herself singing “Che la Luna,” and burst out laughing. She looked down at Bandit. “Your mamma is pazza,” she told him, using the Italian word for “crazy.” Speaking to her gal pals about the trip and her conversation with Marco had made her feel light on her feet. She felt a sense of renewal. A new adventure awaited.
Chapter Four
August
Topanga Canyon, California
Nina wanted to get one good walk in for Winston before she called it a night. She had to be on set at five the next morning. As much as she hated to admit it, she was getting excited about the cruise. Her only concern was the possibility of work. She hadn’t gotten the part for which she had auditioned in June. It went to some other actress who had connections among more of the power players. The business was starting to get to her. She knew she was good, but it was more about whom you knew and how well you knew them. The Me Too movement was important, but it hadn’t trickled down below the A-list of Hollywood. She had thought about moving to New York, where acting was still considered an art, but she wasn’t sure about how much work there would be for her. She could try getting on a soap opera, or doing commercials, but her agent dissuaded her. Said it would tarnish her credibility. But it seemed as if her agent wasn’t working terribly hard on her behalf. Nancy, her agent, was always looking for package deals that would include an actress, writer, director, or producer she also represented. It was no wonder you kept seeing the same faces all the time. It didn’t seem fair to Nina.
Perhaps she should move to London? They didn’t seem to have a celebrity-centric approach to acting. Maybe that was because the royal family were the celebs in the UK, leaving no room for or interest in other people. She was going to be thirty-four in two months, no longer an ingénue in the land of film. And if she hadn’t made it to the big time by now, her chances were getting slim. Sure, there were dozens of actresses over forty, fifty, and sixty who were making films, but they had been around for years. Granted, her role in Family Blessings was keeping her bank account afloat, but who knew how long it would last? Shows get canceled, and characters get written out of scripts. The years ahead would be a crapshoot.
Winston was making noises and pacing about. “OK, big guy. Let’s go.” She laced up her hiking boots, wrapped her curly hair in a bandana, pulled on a denim shirt, and clicked his leash into place. Winston was getting so excited, he almost knocked her over with his tail. “Easy does it, pal.”
As they made their way to the trail, Nina decided she was going to focus on the upcoming trip. It was something to get excited about. She had few expectations of making a love connection. But the idea of getting far away from the pressure of auditions, spending time with friends, and having some fun put a spring in her step. “Come on, boy! Race you to the fence.” With that, Winston trotted briskly ahead while Nina clung to his leash.
After their usual forty-five-minute romp on the trails, stopping to say hello to passersby, they headed back to the small ranch-style house Nina rented. It was built in the early 1950s, when the movie business was really starting to blossom. A cameraman from Warner Bros. Studios had it built on a piece of land that backed up against Topanga State Park. The property was lush with incredible vegetation, with different plants flourishing at different times of the year. There was the big-leaf maple, maidenhair ferns, spike moss, and giant mountain dandelions. When she had first moved there, Nina thought she would start a journal identifying the foliage. But then she realized she was spending too much time challenging herself instead of simply enjoying the beauty.
The house was modest in size, but the cameraman had had the keen eye to install giant windows and sliding glass doors along the wall facing the lush greenery and mountainside. The view was an organic work of art, with changing colors and patterns as the seasons changed. Nina thought it was only logical that someone who made his living looking at the world through a camera lens might look at the world differently. Or at least with a different perspective and appreciation.
The interior of the house was mostly wood paneling that had darkened over the years. It added to the atmosphere. It had a U-shaped kitchen with a peninsula that served as a counter for eating, with stools on the side of the large living room. Today they call it an open floor plan. There were two bedrooms, one on each side of the house. A deck flanked the entire back of the house and was accessible from the living room and both bedrooms. No matter where you sat, Mother Nature was the canvas.
Nina looked around. She loved her place and hoped she could continue to afford to live there. It was a slice of heaven in a sometimes very treacherous business. Careers in show business were tenuous at best. Until she could count on a certain amount of money each year, it was always going to be an uneasy way of life. But for now, she shrugged off her doubts about the future of her career. Instead of spending precious time worrying, she would enjoy the position she was in.
She rummaged through the refrigerator, trying to decide what she should fix for dinner, as Winston patiently waited for his. He nuzzled the arm holding the refrigerator door open.