“You can just bet that Cora and Margie ran up to the Times office and filled Pete full of hot air,” said Helen. “I thought maybe after we were out of high school things would be different. I’d like to be friendly with them for they can be delightful when they want to be, but both of them are still carrying a chip on their shoulders.”
There was only one more afternoon of fishing and loafing along the banks of the creek and John Hardy went with Janet, Helen and Henry Thorne on the outing. Their luck was with them again and they hooked a fine mess of catfish and fried them over an open fire. Through the late afternoon Janet and Helen talked incessantly of their hopes and plans while at a distance their fathers dozed along the creek bank.
It was dusk before they started home, walking slowly through the twilight.
“This is the last night at home,” Janet’s father reminded her. “Tomorrow night we go to Rubio and you take the west-bound plane for Hollywood.”
“It hardly seems possible, but it must be so,” said Janet. “Everything is like a dream.”
“It will be until you actually arrive and start work in the studio.” Janet’s father was silent for several minutes. When he spoke again his voice was so low that it could not be overheard by Helen and her father, who were walking a short distance ahead.
“I’m not expecting you to turn into a motion picture actress, but I want you to do your best out there. The change will be a fine vacation and when you’re actually on the lot working before the cameras, give it everything you’ve got. That will add to the pleasure you’ll have in later years when you look back on this summer.”
“I’ll do it, Dad. I’ll do the best possible job.”
“Sure, I know you will. It’s going to be lonesome here,” he added, “but the break had to come sooner or later.”
“But I’m not going away for good, Dad. Only for the summer.”