Papa had led a fabulous life. And so had Deanna, for a while, watching everything, taking it all in, the sleek women, the interesting men, the dancing at El Morocco, the weekend trips to Beverly Hills. He had been a movie star once, a long time ago, a race driver, a pilot during the war, a gambler, a lover, a man with a passion for life and women and anything he could fly. He wanted Deanna to fly too, wanted her to know what it was to watch over the world at ten thousand feet, sailing through clouds and living on dreams. But she had had her own dreams that were nothing like his. A quiet life, a house where they stayed all the time, a stepmother who did not hide behind “in a minute” or an always locked door. At fourteen she was tired of El Morocco, and at fifteen she was tired of dancing with his friends. At sixteen she had managed to finish school, and desperately wanted to go to Vassar or Smith. Papa insisted it would be a bore. So she painted instead, on sketch pads and canvases she took with her wherever they went. She drew on paper tablecloths in the South of France, and the backs of letters from his friends, having no friends of her own. She drew on anything she could get her hands on. A gallery owner in Venice had told her that she was good, that if she stuck around, he might show her work. He didn’t of course. They left Venice after a month, and Florence after two, Rome after six, and Paris after one, then finally came back to the States, where Papa promised her a home, a real one this time, and maybe even a real-live stepmother to go with it. He had met an American actress in Rome-“someone you’ll love,” he had promised, as he packed a bag for the weekend at her ranch somewhere near L.A.

This time he didn’t ask Deanna to come along. This time he wanted to be alone. He left Deanna at the Fairmont in San Francisco, with four hundred dollars in cash and a promise to be back in three days. Instead he was dead in three hours, and Deanna was alone. Forever this time. And back where she had started, with the threat of a “wonderful school.”