California Diaries #7: Dawn, Diary Two Read Online Free PDF

with the crowds.”
    I wonder if Mrs. Blume is one of those people who judge other people by how
    much money they have.
    “Thanks, Mrs. Blume,” Amalia said.
    “See you later,” I added.
    We headed back to the house. “Have a ball, girls,” Mrs. Blume called after us.
    “And Maggie, ask Pilar to bring us out another pitcher of gin and tonics.”
    I saw Maggie flinch when her mother said that. I’ve noticed that Mrs. Blume
    drinks a lot, even during the day. I wonder how much it bothers Maggie.
    Maggie hates being driven around in her father’s limousine. But I love it. Amalia seemed to be enjoying it too, but she didn’t make a big deal about it. I think she knows how Maggie feels about things.
    Maggie hasn’t actually talked to me about how she feels. That isn’t Maggie’s
    way. But it’s pretty easy to figure out how she feels about the limo. For example, she asked Reg to drop us off two blocks from the stadium. Which, of course, was because she didn’t want anyone to see her get out of the limo.
    We didn’t try to go in ahead of everybody else. I was glad. Half the fun of a concert is being a part of the crowd going in. But I must admit it was great to have seats close to the stage. For two and a half hours I forgot about everything except the music.
    Reg picked us up where he’d dropped us off. The crowd from the concert had
    spilled out into the surrounding blocks, so we couldn’t exactly hide the fact that we were getting into a limo. A pack of guys was staring at us.
    One of them shouted, “Take me with you—aw, come on.”
    “Please, pretty please,” added another. “We’ll be good.”
    “Right!” shouted a third. “Real good.”
    We ignored them.
    As Reg pulled the car away from the curb, Maggie mumbled, “I hate that my dad
    makes me use his car.”
    “It must be hard,” I said, glancing at Maggie. But she dropped the subject.
    Mrs. Blume was waiting up for us, or maybe she was waiting for Mr. Blume, who
    still wasn’t home from work.
    “My father is on a new movie project,” Maggie explained.
    “He’s always on a new movie project,” Mrs. Blume commented.
    She wanted to know all about the concert. But she didn’t seem to listen to what we were saying. I think she had been drinking quite a bit. I kept the conversation rolling until Maggie suggested we get ready for bed.
    “I might as well turn in too,” Mrs. Blume muttered. “There’s food for you girls in the kitchen. Pilar made a late supper for you.”
    Amalia and I ate big helpings of Pilar’s sesame noodles, tofu salad, and blueberry pie. Pilar is a fabulous cook. But all Maggie had was a glass of water, about four strands of sesame noodles, and a few blueberries that she picked out of the pie. “I ate before the concert,” she said.
    “Me too,” I told her. “But that was hours ago.”
    “I don’t like to eat late,” she said.
    End of subject.
    Maggie’s father came home while we were eating. He wanted to know all about
    the concert and really paid attention to what we said. Amalia and I thanked him for the tickets.
    He turned to Maggie. “When you’re working in my office this summer, Rod
    Flash w ill be coming in. He’s doing a number for the sound track for the new film.
    You’ll meet him. I’ve already told him you’re a musician.”
    “Dad—” Maggie protested.
    He ignored her and kept talking. “I’ll ask him to tell you how he got started in the business and give you a couple of singing lessons.”
    “But Dad,” said Maggie, “I don’t want lessons from him. I like Mrs. Knudsen.”
    Mr. Blume acted like he hadn’t even heard what Maggie said. “By the way,” he
    went on, “have your mother help you pick out some clothes to wear to the office. She knows what to do in that regard.” He laughed. “She should, with the credit card charges she makes.”
    “Dad, I have—” Maggie started to say, but Mr. Blume interrupted her again.
    “I know, I know. You can figure out what to wear on