Vicki said good-by and promised to look Joey up again. Then she walked back to the airport building.
Even though it had become a common, everyday sight to her, an airport waiting room never failed to fascinate Vicki. And this one at Tampa was particularly interesting. Passengers from incoming planes carried heavy coats that they had worn when they had left the northern winter weather. Sometimes friends, tanned and wearing gay-colored sports clothes, were waiting to greet them.
Through the big picture window She could see the air taxis waiting at one end of the field. Anyone who wished to fly across Tampa Bay to Clearwater or St. Petersburg, or across the Caribbean to Cuba or Mexico, could charter a plane like the one Joey’s instructor—Steve Miller—flew. Everything seemed so easygoing and carefree here, Vicki thought, in this sun-kissed land where the breeze was scented with the perfume of flowers.
She stopped at the Federal reservations counter where she had left her bag, picked it up, and then went out the building’s main entrance to look for a taxi.
Twenty minutes later the taxi pulled up at the Curtins’ home, and Vicki, carrying her bag and topcoat, stepped out. She stopped for a moment, after she had paid her fare, to look at the dignified old house. It was red brick, old-fashioned and comfortable-looking, surrounded by a close-clipped lawn and rambling flower gardens. Two tall palm trees flanked it on either side. She opened the iron gate and walked down a flagstone path to the front door.
Before she could ring the bell, the door flew open and there stood Louise, looking more grownup than Vicki remembered her, with her dark hair done up in a chignon and a big smile of welcome on her beautiful, delicately tanned face. Louise had written that she was doing social work, but Vicki found it hard to believe that this lovely, vivacious girl could confine her energies to anything so unglamorous.
“Vicki! How wonderful to see you again!” Louise hugged her and then stepped back and appraised her. “You’ve changed!”
Vicki laughed. “It’s pretty wonderful to see you, too. But you don’t have to sound so accusing. You’ve changed yourself!”
“You’re so poised now, Vicki, and so très chic in that lovely blue uniform. I remember you used to be shy.”
“Still shy sometimes, and I’m très delighted to be at your house. You were darling to ask me. Are you actually a social worker these days? You, our southern belle?”