Then again, those suggestions had come from Gloria and may say more about Rosa’s spirited cousin than they did about California fashions. Already, Rosa regretted giving into Gloria’s pleas to accompany her to the fair recently set up at the boardwalk. She preferred the quiet of her room, a good book, and the purring of her kitten, Diego, compared to the cacophony sure to come.
Not wanting to face Gloria’s wrath if she changed her mind, Rosa determined to be a good sport. Gloria looking adorable and rather youthful—seven years Rosa’s junior, Rosa often felt ancient at twenty-eight in Gloria’s presence—in her pink poodle skirt and flat black and white leather saddleback shoes. Gloria stood with one hand on one tiny hip and the other stretched out, palm open. “Keys?”
“Why?”
“You’ve driven it all week. Besides, you have Diego to concern yourself with.”
Rosa peeked into her tapestry handbag, or satchel, as she liked to call it, where her kitten slept soundly. She’d chosen the satchel more for Diego’s comfort—a stray kitten Rosa had recently rescued—than she had for how it complimented her sky-blue swing dress—the one without a large enough crinoline, apparently—and matching Juliette cap.
Diego had an adventurous personality and didn’t, for the most part, cause Rosa any concern when she took him along. A rather fortuitous discovery, since Aunt Louisa had insisted that Rosa keep the kitten with her and not leave “that scraggly thing” behind unless either Gloria or the Forrester housekeeper, Señora Gomez, was available to watch him.
Rosa suppressed her strong feelings of apprehension as she handed over the coveted keys. “Drive carefully!” With an exaggerated shudder, she added, “The way you command a car reminds me of my mum.”
“Oh, I love Aunt Ginger!” Gloria smirked at Rosa before snatching the keys. “I don’t suppose you’d like to trade mothers?” She laughed before Rosa could come up with a suitable quip and hopped into the driver’s side of the Bel Air. In moments, the large engine rumbled to life.
“Why Do Fools Fall in Love” played on the radio, and Rosa mused at how apropos it was for her, the fool who fell in love with Miguel Belmonte, her former flame and, as fate would have it, no longer single.
Gloria, looking away from the road more often than Rosa would have liked, announced, “I’m sure we’ll see people I know at the boardwalk. In fact, you might run into some of your friends from high school.”
Though born and raised in London, Rosa had spent her high school years in Santa Bonita. Her parents felt an urgent need to get her out of harm’s way during the Second World War.
The highway wound along the coast. As Gloria chattered on about the fun fair at the boardwalk, Rosa gazed at the gleaming sun. The ball of fire hung over the beach and blue water rushed to the shore. The scene looked like a postcard picture. In the distance, she saw what must be the Santa Bonita Pier. Bright red bars lined a giant Ferris Wheel at the edge of the water.
Almost missing the exit, Gloria stomped on the brake and spun onto the ramp to guide them off the highway just in time.
“Gloria!” Rosa pressed a hand on the Bel Air’s sleek crocus-yellow dashboard. “For crying out loud!”
“Oh, chili-pop, honey.” Gloria glided around a bend that momentarily hid the ocean then continued along a curvy road that led them down a steep decline. Rosa didn’t relax until they were level with the water.
Gloria managed to squeeze into a parking spot without scratching the paint. Rosa could only imagine how Clarence, Gloria’s older brother, took to the odd scuffs that were sure to appear on the Forrester vehicles.
Rosa reached for her satchel. Diego was awake and no worse for wear.
“Hi, sweetie,” Rosa cooed and reached in to give him a pat. “You’ve already had your first fair ride, poor thing.”
Gloria pretended offence, blowing loudly through lips thick with tangerine-colored lipstick. She led the way to the back of the parking lot and down a short gravel path. Then, quite suddenly, the trail opened to more bright colors and tiny lights than Rosa had ever seen in one place. It was as though Christmas had come early and exploded across the pier.
“It’s stunning!” Rosa said, stopping. Now that they were closer, she could see not only the brightly lit Ferris Wheel set against the brilliant blue sky, but also several carnival game tents, a ride with spinning cars, and even a roller coaster! The salty air she’d become accustomed to in the last few weeks took on a new aroma with smells of buttered popcorn and warm sugar.
“It is, isn’t it?” Gloria grasped Rosa’s hand and pulled her toward the lights and the action.
“You’ll have to show me how it’s all done,” Rosa said while gazing around in awe. She slid her new Riviera sunglasses up on her forehead to get a clearer view.
They walked onto the base of the pier, and only now could Rosa see most of the exciting ocean side fair. A large platform sat off to the left, which seemed to hold most of the amusement rides, including the giant roller coaster that already made Rosa’s palms moisten. The Ferris Wheel turned its slow and steady circulations at the farthest end of the pier. Along the boardwalk and pier, numerous game tents were busy with customers and “carnies” or game operators yelling, “Step right up! Be our next winner!”
As they meandered down the pier, the dings and clanks and shouts of the loud carnival games were soon drowned out by lively upbeat swing music.
“Is there a band here?” Rosa asked.
Gloria answered glibly, “Mick and the Beat Boys are playing tonight. They’re often here on Fridays. Isn’t that great?”
Rosa’s
