Medley

47: IF YOU DON'T KNOW.

           

Thursday night, last message received before bedtime:

HARRY: I can't wait to see you. You'll love LA.

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I hate LA.

I don't 'hate it' hate it, you know what I mean? The weather is amazing and the people are very nice. I've vacationed here before. I just don't think it's a place I would consider making it my home.

As much as I enjoy spring and summer, I need the cold, I need rain, and I need my snow.

Traffic is a nightmare here, I don't even know why we ever complain about it in Baltimore, we have it so good in comparison!

William picks me up at the airport. A distance of regularly less than twenty-five minutes, takes us about forty-five to travel by car.

The population here is divided in two groups: the ones with big dreams, and the ones with big wallets. It's the second group I struggle to comprehend. So much money wasted on jewelry, luxury cars and plastic surgery when there's so many people just down the street from where these people live that could use a hand.

Being rich and pampering yourself with nice things is nothing to be ashamed of, most people have earned that right with hard work. And honestly, everybody would live like that if given the chance. But that's exactly the problem, not everyone gets that chance.

I know this happens everywhere in the world, in all major cities. Hey, it happens in Baltimore right under my nose! But of all the places I've been to, here is where I see it the most disparate, and feel it the most palpable.

It's hard to imagine Harry belonging to this selected group of elite residents of The City of Angels. He's so down to earth, so humble, so modest in the way he carries himself.

I guess there's a whole side of him I have yet to know. Spending a weekend in his domains might be a good way to start.

That scene in romantic movies where two lovers at an airport run towards each other with their arms open, until they meet and kiss passionately in the middle of the terminal because they've been apart and miss each other terribly, and the people around them don't seem to notice and just keep walking past them minding their own business... That, well, that may never happen to me.

Harry's inability to show up anywhere without causing mayhem, makes that scenario very unlikely. And LAX is the paparazzi's fishing grounds. Not a good idea for him to come get me himself if we want to stay clear of attention.

Having William picking me up at airports and dropping me off wherever Harry is, makes me feel like food being delivered. Ironically, I do hope to be Harry's breakfast, lunch and dinner these next three days, but that's not what I meant particularly.

"You're here!"

The double doors to the ridiculously big but undeniably beautiful house wait for me wide open, with their owner leaning against their frame with his arms crossed, in flip flops, denim bermuda shorts and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. A masterpiece.

"Is that how you're always going to greet me?" I yell at Harry from the driveway.

I get out of the car and straighten my skirt then walk around to get my stuff out of the trunk, but William beats me to it, of course.

"I keep thinking you'll get tired of me and not show up one of these days. So it's always a surprise to see you." Harry doesn't move from where he stands.

I'm already dying to hold him.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure to notify William first when that happens." I say while I have to wrestle with Will to snatch my suitcase from his tight grip as he insists to carry it inside for me.