My cousin from Hollywood

We, the Spencers from Bedfordshire, are proud people. No matter how hard life has hit us, how forgotten we may be, we still know who we are. My mother never learned to cook; in fact, she hates walking into a kitchen. My great-grandmother wore make-up and silk stockings until the day she died. My great-uncle dresses like a dandy and goes out with his silver-capped cane even though he lives in the projects. We even have three Diana Spencers in our genealogical tree. And then there’s my cousin from Hollywood. She is very tall and calls people darling. The day of the wedding she had a wide beige dress like the ones Hassidic women wear when they go shopping. After everything was said and done, the family lingered over scotch and idle gossip; nobody noticed she had left. Then she reappeared wearing the shortest red leopard dress with matching red hat, floppy red sandals and bright-red cat sunglasses. Midnight in L.A.