The Richard Jackson Saga: Book: 9 Cold War

was getting worse day by day in LA. The smog made it impossible to see the mountains. What had been a paradise was now becoming a hell hole. The trip seemed like it took forever so I was glad to get home.
At the guardhouse was a large sign stating, “Welcome home Sir Richard winner of the 1960 US Open.” That was nice, what was even better was my whole family was waiting in the courtyard to welcome me. The driver must have called ahead. The car had one of those new telephones that could call from the car. It was set up in the front and with the window closed; I didn’t know he had used it.
I got out to hugs, kisses, and handshakes. You can figure out who did what.
I was overwhelmed and had to wipe a tear out of my eye: maybe there was more than one.
Until I got home I hadn’t realized how much I had missed my family.
Mum was the first to notice my dress or lack of a shirt.
“There must be a story here.”
I gave a quick explanation of what had happened. The boys thought it was neat that a baby could eat so much and throw it up. Mark May would grow up to be a strong kid.
We went into the house where I took a quick shower and changed into California casual. England was seldom warm enough to wear a golf shirt.
My siblings had wandered off to whatever they had been doing as Mum and Dad and I sat down for a conversation in the Library. Rather than face an interrogation I gave them a synopsis of my time since winning the golf tournament.
They had questions about being dubbed a knight and my rescuing Miss Bardot. Dad thought it was good that I had saved the Mona Lisa from damage even though he never understood the big deal made over the painting. She was only a woman and they were all mysteries.
I started to open my mouth to object that she demonstrated the quintessential mystery of women when I saw him start to grin. He had got me. It was good to be home.
“Rick one more thing; we didn’t have time to celebrate your golfing victory as you had to leave right away. We are holding a party in your honor this Saturday.”
“How big of a party is it?”
“Big, all the people involved in your journey to victory, a select group from Hollywood, business leaders you have dealt with, and some old friends.”
“I guess I have to cancel my date then.”
“You have a date Saturday night, with whom?”
It was my turn to grin.
“It’s nice to have you home, Rick.”
Dad told me, “Rick you may not have heard but, ‘Over the Ohio’, is being released the week after so you will need a date for the premiere or let the studio send a starlet they wish to publicize.”
“I will try to get a date since every starlet I meet is too desperate to make fame and fortune and I seem like an easy route for them.”
Who can I ask?  As it is relatively short notice to obtain a dress and everything that goes with it.
Mum asked me, “Rick if you don’t have anyone in mind could you take Mary? She is in the movie and wants to go. Your Dad was going to be her escort but it would work out better for both of you to go together. That takes the burden off you and Dad.”
I looked at Dad who mouthed, “Please.”
I guess Dad didn’t want to walk on the red carpet. I don’t blame him, as all the noise and shouted questions are bothersome.
Mum followed up with, “Please ask Mary, we haven’t told her yet that she could go.”
Okay, I will do it right away. Where is she anyway?
“She is up on the tower with several friends. They had a sleepover and it is still going on. I’m afraid that they may never go home.”
I took the elevator up, thinking as it went about the last time I had come up here and discovered Mary and her five-year-old friends sunbathing topless. What a mess.
At the top, the warning sign wasn’t out but I yelled anyway, asking if it was safe for me to come on up the last set of stairs. Not many things frightened me but little girls were high on my list.
“Come on up Ricky,” my little sister yelled.
Mary and her friends were all dressed in shorts and tee-shirts so my fears weren’t realized. Still, I will always check first.
“Mary, are you planning to go to the premiere, of ‘Over the Ohio’?”
“I haven’t asked yet, because it will be past my bedtime before it is over. I would like to go, and I’m hoping Daddy will be my escort.”
“Mary, I have a problem, I don’t have a date and it is too late for me to ask a girl who would have to find a dress and everything. Even if I paid for it she wouldn’t have the time to get ready.”
“That’s right, Ricky, that is poor planning on your part.”
“Would you go with me?”
“So, I’m chopped liver? You are concerned about other girls having enough time but think I can be ready at a moment’s notice?”
The other little girls were watching us avidly. Their heads moved back and forth like a tennis match. For them, it was either a sport or a learning experience.
“What were you going to do if Daddy said he would take you?”
“Uh, I would, uh, okay you got me, I would wear a dress and its accouterments from my new fall collection. I’m still not allowed to wear makeup but I would have to have my hair done.”
Where did my little six-year-old sister learn