"Hello."
"I'm looking for Mel Jensen," I said.
"Oh," the voice said, dripping with
disappointment. "Just a minute. Someone for you," I heard him say and Mel got on.
"Hello."
"I'm sorry to call you, but I didn't know who else to call. My sister is working at a mall and--"
"Melody?"
"Yes," I said.
"Where are you? I hear a lot of traffic."
"I'm on a street corner. I'm lost and . . . I don't know how to get back and I thought--"
"What's the address? Where are you?"
"The address?" I looked at the street sign and then read it to him.
"Okay. I know where that is. Wait right there," he said. "It'll be a good twenty minutes."
"Thank you."
After I hung up, I looked for a place to sit and wait, but there weren't any benches around so I went into the coffee shop on the opposite corner and sat at the counter. I ordered a cup of coffee, but barely sipped it, watching the clock. When fifteen minutes had passed, I went out again and stood on the corner. While I was waiting I saw a man I thought might have been Harris come out of the studio and disappear into an alley. Almost ten minutes later, just when I was starting to get nervous, I heard a car horn and- saw Mel. I was never so happy to see anyone. He pulled over and I got in quickly.
"What the hell are you doing down here?" he asked. I started to cry, sucked in my breath, and told him. "Marlin wanted you to be in an X-rated film? Some break," he said. "They can make good money. I'm not saying he lied about that. Does your sister know?"
"No. So you think Richard knew it was that kind of job?" I asked.
"Are you kidding? Those jobs are right up Marlin's alley. Well you did the right thing walking out like that. These things can come back to haunt you when you do get decent work and become a star."
"I'm not going to become a star, any kind of star. That's not why I came here," I protested. Wouldn't anyone believe me?
"Why did you come here?"
"Just to visit," I said. After a moment I added, "But now that I'm here, I hope I can talk my sister into going back home with me."
Mel laughed.
"I don't know your sister that well, but she looks like she's been bitten, just like the rest of us. Don't get your hopes up."
Now that I was in his car and we were driving away from Live Wire Studios, I swallowed back my panic and felt my heart stop pounding.
"Thank you so much for coming to get me," I said. "You sounded terrified. I borrowed my roommate's car. I don't have a car myself."
"Oh. It was nice of him to lend it to you."
"Yeah. So why did you leave the party so quickly last night?"
"I was feeling exhausted. You didn't see how dirty my sister's apartment was and how much work I did."
He laughed.
"I bet. She's no Suzy Homemaker, huh?"
"No. She never was."
"What, did your parents spoiled her?"
"My father did," I said. It wasn't such a lie, I thought. "He and I ended up doing most of the work, even the cooking."
"What about your mother?"
"She died when we were very young," I said.
"Oh, sorry."
"I can't believe what Richard wanted me to do," I muttered, still half in shock.
"It doesn't surprise me. To a manager or an agent, it's easy money."
"I have to find some other way to earn money while I'm here," I moaned.
"I can always get you a job at the supermarket," he said, half kidding.
"Could you?"
"You'd like that?"
"I'd do anything, anything but what Richard was trying to get me to do," I replied.
"Okay, I'll see about it. I'd take you somewhere for something to eat, but I have to get to work. I have the afternoon shift today."
"That's all right. You've done a lot for me already." "How about paying me back by going to dinner with me later?"
"How's that paying you back?" I asked, laughing.
"I like your company," he said and smiled. "Well? I'll be out at six-thirty. We can go around seven. You like Italian? I know a great little place only two blocks south of us."
"Okay," I said. "But I should be taking you out. I wish I could afford to."
"Don't worry about. It's my treat."
I thanked him again when we arrived at The Egyptian Gardens. After he dropped me off I hurried up to the apartment and quickly changed out of Mommy's miniskirt and blouse, putting my own clothes back on. I was calm enough to make myself some lunch and settle down. I did some more cleaning to keep my mind off what had happened and spent the remainder of the afternoon reading Mommy's movie magazines on the patio. A little after five I heard her and Richard come in. I got off the lounge and entered the apartment to meet them in the living room.
Richard stood there with his hands on his hips, glaring at me furiously. Mommy looked almost as angry, her hands clenched in fists at her side.
"What did you do, Melody?" Mommy asked softly. "What did you do to Richard?"
"What did she do to me? I'll tell you what she did," Richard said, stepping toward me before I could offer any response. "She put a nail in my coffin here. She hurt my reputation and completely destroyed a lucrative market for me. I had three other girls set to get jobs with Live Wire Studios and they canceled all of them. You lost those girls a lot of money and they needed it badly," he said. "I'm not even counting my lost commissions."
"Melody, how could you do this?"
"Mommy, you don't understand," I cried.
"There," he screamed, his forefinger jabbed at me. "She keeps forgetting. She'll call you Mommy in front of these people here and you might as well kiss your career good-bye."
"Melody, I've pleaded with you not to call me Mommy."
"I know. I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just upset. I won't forget anymore." I took a deep breath. "I did what he told me to do. I went into the studio and there was a half-naked woman sitting on a bed and they wanted me to . . . to be in this movie."
"So?" Mommy said. "Richard told you how much money you were going to make. I bet it was twice if not three times what Kenneth paid you to model naked for him," she added.
I felt my heart stop and then start racing. The blood seemed to drain from my face. I tried, but I couldn't speak for a moment. The lump in my throat was as hard as a rock, unmovable.
"What? You get undressed only for certain men when you feel like it?" Richard quipped. "When I get you a job where you can help us, you decide to be Miss Prim and Proper? You run out of the studio, make me look like the fool of the year?"
"Sis, that was different. What Kenneth was doing was art. You know that," I finally said, unable to believe she didn't see the difference.
"A lot of people think of this as art too, Melody. You have to be understanding and you can't be a snob," she said.
"A snob? But Sis, they wanted me to get undressed and be in bed with this other woman and-- "
"What of it? I've done it," she said.
"You have?" I asked, not wanting to believe her.
"Of course. How do you think we got the security and first and last month's rent for this place? You know how much money that is? And I got it with just two days' work," she said proudly.
I just shook my head in disbelief.
"You can't stay here without earning your keep," Richard insisted. "We're not running a shelter for the homeless."
"I'll earn something. Mel Jensen thinks I can get a job at the supermarket," I spat back at him.
"The supermarket? That's what you want to do?"
"Yes. I'd rather sweep floors and stack groceries forever than do what that fat man wanted me to do back in that so-called movie studio."
"Well, you raised a pretty smart girl," Richard said to Mommy. "Supermarket Wonder. Great. In the meantime you can keep this apartment spotless and see to our laundry. If you won't be a movie star, then be a servant. Maybe that's all you
're capable of being."
I looked at Mommy for support, but she just nodded.
"Richard's right, honey. With the three of us now, we won't be able to afford a housekeeper or dry cleaners if you don't work where Richard wants you to work."
"I don't mind doing the cleaning and looking after the laundry," I said. Surely Mommy didn't fully understand what Richard was doing to her and what he would have done to me if I had let him. We're the ones exposing ourselves, embarrassing ourselves, lowering our self-respect and he was the one collecting the money for it. I had to make her understand and if it took my having to be someone's little slave for a while in order to do so, I thought, so be it.
"Good," Richard said, marching out of the living room to the bedroom.
"Sis, you don't know how terrible this place was. You couldn't have done something like that."
"Don't be stupid, Melody. You can't be a child anymore. You're here, make the most of it, take advantage. You have a built-in manager and agent. Do you know how hard it is for new talent to get representation?"
"Talent? What kind of talent does it take to strip off your clothes and do X-rated things in front of a leering cameraman?"
"You'd be surprised," Mommy said. "The camera doesn't lie. If you're not sincere when you perform, the camera will expose you."
"Oh, you're exposed all right, and then some. Sis, listen," I said, but Richard came marching back into the living room. His arms full of shirts and pants and a few pairs of shoes on top.
"See that these things are washed and ironed. We can't afford the laundry. And I want these shoes polished so I can see my face in them. I've got to look twice as good now that you have screwed things up," he claimed as he dumped everything at my feet.
I looked from the pile to Mommy, but she just turned and walked into the bedroom.
"Of course," Richard said softly after she was gone, "if you want to turn around and go back to Cape Cod . . ."
I glared at him with hot tears in my eyes and then I started to scoop up his clothes.
"Not yet," I said. "I haven't finished what I came to do."
He saw the firmness in my face and his smile evaporated.
"Just watch yourself," he said. "You're playing out of your league and you're playing on my turf."
"I'm not playing," I replied and began to take everything into my room.
An hour later while I was ironing Richard's shirts, Mommy poked her head into my room to tell me they were going out to dinner.
"We can't afford to take you, honey," she said. "I'm sure you'll find something for yourself here."
"Someone's taking me to dinner," I said softly, not looking up at her.
"Oh? Who?"
"Mel Jensen," I said. When I looked up at her I saw a look of surprise on her face.
"Really? Well, you be careful," she said. "Watch what you say, what you tell him. Men can get you to trust them too much too fast," she warned.
"I suppose you'd know," I said. Her back straightened and a sharp look came into her eyes.
"Don't be disrespectful, Melody."
"I'm not. I'm just . . . Sis, when can you and I sit down and have a real conversation? When can we be like we used to be, just for a little while?"
"I don't know," she said, a little sadly. "I don't know if we ever can. That's why . . . that's why it might have been better if you never came looking for me, Melody. I'm sorry," she said. "I just don't know."
We stared at each other a moment and then she returned to the living room and left with Richard. My heart felt as if it had sunk like a chunk of coal into my stomach. I sat on the bed and buried my face in my hands, choking on dry sobs. Billy Maxwell was so right when he said people changed because of where they were and what they were doing. He warned me to expect Mammy might be a very different person. But was she different? Perhaps she was the same woman she had always been,- but the woman I had refused to permit myself to see. I took a deep breath and sat straight, wondering what I should do. Should I just leave her, try to forget I had a mother, or should I remain and do battle with her fantasies and her phony knight in shining armor? How would I ever get her to listen to anything I had to say?
I was in such a confused and troubled state of mind I forgot all about Mel until he came knocking on the apartment door.
"Ready?" he asked when I opened the door.
"Oh Mel. I forgot. I'm sorry." I looked down at myself wearing an apron over dungarees. "I'll just be a minute," I said. "Come on in."
I rushed into the bedroom to pick out something to wear and then I hurried into the bathroom to brush my hair and put on some lipstick. Mel sat on the sofa laughing as I paraded back and forth.
"It's all right. Take your time," he called.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and tried to calm my nerves before appearing before him again.
"Voila, "he said, standing. "Remarkable metamorphosis. You look great."
"I don't feel great," I moaned. He opened the door and stepped back so I could pass.
"So, tell me, how did Marlin take your not going through with the assignment?" he asked as we descended in the elevator.
"He was furious. He said I hurt his reputation."
"I bet. Not to mention his pocketbook. I was offered those kinds of films, too."
"You were?"
"Sure. A lot of would be's think that's the way to get into the business, and unfortunately they get taken advantage of. This is a tough place, a city with sharp teeth that devours the pure of heart," he remarked.
"Then why do you stay?" I asked.
"It's where it's at," he replied with a shrug. "And, I'm not so pure at heart." He put his arm though mine and led me out of the complex.
The restaurant was small and cozy, just as he had described and the food was delicious. Mel talked about himself, telling me all about his home and his family. Every time he asked me questions, I had to check myself to be sure I wasn't saying anything that would give away all of Mommy and Richard's lies. I tried to say as little as I could. Finally, he sat back and narrowed his eyes.
"Getting you to talk about yourself is like pulling teeth. Why is that?"
"I don't know," I said shifting my eyes down quickly. He continued to stare.
"Are you really just visiting or did you run away from home?" he pursued. I raised my eyes and smiled.
"Run away from home? What makes you think that?"
"I've met a number of runaways and they act a lot like you, evading, giving only the bare minimum when asked a question."
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I'm just visiting," I said and he laughed.
"Fine."
"I am!"
Why was it every man I met could be so infuriating, thinking they knew me better than I knew myself?
"They've got great spumoni," he said and ordered some for us.
"I hate to see you spend your money on me," I told him, calming down slowly. "I know how hard it is for you."
"That's okay. Actually, I asked you out both to be with you and to have you celebrate with me. I got a part in a theatrical production that will open in two months. I had auditioned for them so long ago, I forgot all about it and wrote it off, but out of the blue, my agent received a call and called me just before I left to pick you up tonight."
"Congratulations. That's wonderful, Mel."
"I expect you to be in the front row opening night," he said. "Now," he continued, turning more serious, "what this means, I realized, was I have to give up my job at the supermarket. I spoke to the manager this afternoon and told him I had someone responsible to take my place. He thought it was fine. So, congratulations to you. You'll get your job in about three more days, if you really want it."
"Good," I said. "Now Richard won't be able to complain about me. Thank you."
"Of course, I think you should aim higher. You have talent and you look great," he said. "But you've got to want it, be hungry for it."
"But I don't want it," I said and he stared at me w
ith that curious smile on his face.
"Maybe that's what intrigues me the most about you," he said.
"What?"
"Your ability to resist the temptation, your lack of ego. You're just the type who succeeds," he added.
I looked at him, at that impish grin on his face. It amazed me how other people saw things in me I never saw in myself.
After we walked home, Mel asked me if I wanted to come up to his apartment.
"We could listen to some music. My
roommates are out for the night."
"I don't know," I said. "I promised my sister I wouldn't stay out late."
"It's not late," he insisted. "I'd like to dance for you, too."
"Dance?"
"Sure. I'll show you what I did at the audition for this show. Okay?"
It sounded interesting so I agreed and we went up to his apartment.
"You'll have to excuse the mess," he warned me at the door. "Remember, three guys live here."
It didn't look anywhere near as cluttered and dusty as Mommy's apartment had been before I had started to clean it. I told Mel and he laughed.
"Want something to drink? More wine, perhaps?"
"I suppose wine's all right," I said and he poured me a glass. After he did, he went in to his bedroom to put on his dancing clothes. I heard the music first and then suddenly, he leaped into the room, wearing the tightest top and pants I had ever seen, so tight they left nothing about him to the imagination. He spun on his toes and lifted his legs so high, I lost my breath, especially when he did it right in front of me.
The music became faster, the beat harder. He mixed ballet steps with slides and turns that were dazzling. Finally, he stopped and stood before me, breathing hard, his face flushed with excitement. I felt flushed myself from the wine and his performance.
"Well?"
"You're wonderful," I said. "I can't imagine you not succeeding."
He laughed and stepped closer. The music continued, softer, slower. He reached out to take my hand.
I started to shake my head, but he pulled harder until I stood and we were dancing cheek to cheek, his hard, fast breathing on my neck. When I caught sight of us reflected in the window, it looked like I was dancing with a naked man. My own breathing quickened as his slowed and then he smiled at me and kissed me softly. I felt him push against my thighs.