DINNER FOR THREE

by flint holland

Her hands were in the biscuit mix when the phone rang. She heard Ray put down his newspaper in the living room and stomp into the hall.

"Hello... Hello... Who? Sherry! For the love of Pete! What brings you to Hollywood? Which studio? . . . Imagine that! Where you staying?... Well-not sure we'll be home. I'll ask Necia."

22

His wife came to the kitchen doorway. "Invite her to dinner, Ray. I've always liked the girl-friends you had before we were married."

He put a hand over the mouthpiece. "Sherry is a man. Young fellow I roomed with when Detroit was overcrowded during the war. Sheridan Woolley. Maybe I better say we won't be home."

"That would be unfriendly. Tell him to take a taxi and he'll be in time for dinner. Fried chicken and hot biscuits. That'll fetch him." She returned to the kitchen and heard her husband pass along the invitation with somewhat less enthusiasm.

one

She smiled as she assured herself that it was still necessary to push Ray out of his bachelor shyness.

From her fifth floor window she saw the taxi when it stopped in front of the apartment. She was setting the nook table with a lace cloth and her best napkins. The bell rang and she heard Ray faltering to the door. Heard the forced joviality in his greeting. It almost made her laugh to hear him struggle at it. She took off her flowered apron and went into the living room.

Ray began clumsily, "Necia, this is Sherry. Been four years since I knew him in Detroit. Says he's here for a screen test with Empire

Studios."

She gave her hand cordially. "How very thrilling! I'm happy to know you, Sherry. Ray hadn't told me about you." She was pleasantly interested in this blond young man with large blue eyes and a complexion as smooth as her own. His sand-color suit brightened his blond-

12