Authors: Michael Lee West
Mad Girls In Love (48 page)
Jennifer and her grandparents arrived at the Nashville airport, and Miss Betty had handed over their passports and travel documents at the Delta ticket counter. She turned to Jennifer and said, “Isn't this exciting?”
Then the Delta agent, a square-built woman, looked up. “There seems to be a problem,” she said. She opened Jennifer's passport and held it up.
“What's wrong?” Miss Betty leaned across the counter and blinked at the passport. “I know she doesn't resemble that picture, but it was taken in 1984. So of course she looks completely different now, but it's her.”
Jennifer produced her license and school ID card and handed them to the agent hoping they would prove her identity. The agent just looked puzzled and said, “That's not the issue. I know it's
you,
honey. You look just like the picture. The problem is that your passport will expire while you're abroad.”
“And this means?” Miss Betty raised her eyebrows.
“She can't leave the country,” said the agent.
“Give me that.” Miss Betty snatched back the passport and peered down at the dates then started screaming. “But the goddamn thing hasn't expired
today
,” she cried. “It expires on December thirty-first, and we're coming home January fifth. So there can't be much of a problem.”
“I'm sorry,” said the agent.
“This is so silly,” Miss Betty said and turned to her husband. “Chick, give the girl a hundred dollars so we can get on our way.”
The ticket lady began shaking her head.
“Three hundred?” Chick asked and laid his fat wallet on the counter. “Five? Don't stare at me, girl. Tell me what you want.”
“Are you
bribing
me?” the agent asked.
Miss Betty exploded. “We would never condescend to bribe a lowly peon such as yourself. Don't take it out on me just because you're trapped in a dead-end nine-to-five job. I can't help it that I'm wealthy. I can't help that I'm going to Europe. It's not
my
fault that you've never set foot out of this country.”
“Apparently you haven't, either,” said the agent. “If you had, you would've known that Miss Wentworth's passport was about to expireâa big no-no in the jet set world.”
“How dare you. I demand to see your supervisor.”
At this, Jennifer's hopes went up.
“With pleasure,” the agent said, picking up the phone.
Miss Betty turned to Chick. “We should call George Bush. After all, we're the biggest contributors in Falls County, if not all of Tennessee.”
“Yes, but Senator Gore might have more clout,” Chick said.
The Delta supervisor walked up. The ticket agent, Miss Betty, and Chick all began talking at once. At the other counters, people were staring. Jennifer shrank back, trying to make herself invisible. The supervisor picked up the passport and looked at it, then when Miss Betty paused to catch her breath, the man said he was terribly sorry, but Delta couldn't issue the transatlantic tickets. However, all wasn't lost. He asked the ticket agent to step aside and began punching keys on the computer. He told them they could fly down to New Orleans that day and the next morning could take a cab to the passport agency. Then either that night or the nextâdepending on what flights were availableâthey would be able fly to Switzerland. So far so good until he told them the rest: they would have to fly on standby, which meant they'd forfeit their first class seats.
“I will forfeit nothing!”
Miss Betty cried.
The supervisor ignored her and squinted at the computer screen. “You can take Flight 211 to Atlanta, and then Flight 1145 to New Orleans. But, because these flights are last-minute, it will cost one thousand dollars extra.”
“Just for the New Orleans tickets?” Chick asked.
“Yes,” said the supervision. “You can always get credit for your transatlantic and go another time.”
“You fool, price is no object,” Miss Betty yelled. “But time is of the essence.”
Now we're on our way, Jennifer thought. The supervisor held out her passport, and she snatched it up and dropped it into her handbag. Miss Betty had suddenly calmed down and was asking the agent if her and Chick's passports were in order.
When the supervisor admitted they were, and it was just Jennifer's that was the problem, Miss Betty whispered to Chick. He shoved hundred-dollar bills into Jennifer's hands and told her to call a limo.
“Why?” Jennifer asked.
Meanwhile, Miss Betty was sorting the luggage and directing a man to lift the Wentworths' Louis Vuitton bags onto a conveyor belt. The supervisor pushed the tickets into Chick's outstretched hand. Then they headed for the gates.
“Where do you think you're going?” cried Jennifer.
Miss Betty turned. “Darling, you really can't expect us to give up our trip. That wouldn't be right, would it?” She blew Jennifer a kiss and trilled over her shoulder, “Go on back home, and I'll bring you back a Cartier tank.”
Thank God for the lady at the Hertz desk. She hadn't had enough money to break Jennifer's hundred, but she had a dime for the pay phone. She couldn't call her father. Claude was at the Betty Ford clinic again. He had stopped drinking, but they couldn't make him stop taking Percodan. So Jennifer called Dorothy, who told her to sit tight and not to talk to any perverts, that she and Uncle Mack were on their way. Jennifer took the escalator up to the gift shop, where she spent Chick's money on fashion magazines, stuffed bears, and candy. At the checkout, the clerk said, “Gosh, so much. Are these gifts?”
“No, they're all for me,” said Jennifer.
“You sure are lucky,” said the clerk.
“Yeah,” said Jennifer, grabbing another stuffed bear and tossing it onto the counter. “The luckiest girl in the world.”
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TWO NOTES FROM DOROTHY
March 30, 1990
Dear Bitsy,
I hope everything is fine in London. I read the Nashville
Tennessean
just to keep track of the weather over there, and I noticed that it was raining. So I have enclosed a cute umbrella. Also, a letter that I want you to read.
Love,
Dorothy
C
OLUMBIA
B
ROADCASTING
S
YSTEM
51 W. 52 S
TREET
N
EW
Y
ORK
, N
EW
Y
ORK
10019
March 25, 1990
Dear Mrs. McDougal:
Thank you for contacting CBS. We appreciate your plot suggestions for
The Guiding Light.
We are constantly seeking new material for the Josh and Reva storyline. Your idea of cloning Reva is, even for us, a bit farfetched, but we will keep it in mind. However, once an idea is submitted, it becomes the exclusive property of CBS. Again, thank you for your interest. I have enclosed per your request an autographed photograph of Kim Zimmer.
Sincerely,
James P. Calhoun, Editorial Assistant
May 21, 1990
Dear Bitsy,
Guess what? That's right, another anniversary. I wish you'd call. I am a different man.
Love,
Louie
June 14, 1990
Dear Mother,
I'm sorry I didn't get to spend any time with you at my graduation. But you know how it is with all those awesome parties to go to. My dad gave me $10,000 and a first class ticket to Atlanta. But I just LOVED the beige dress you gave me. I will wear it to college this fall. I was accepted to Tennessee Tech, but Grandmother talked me into attending Falls Junior College, which
is only two blocks from her house. I want to major in fashion merchandising and then move to Italy and maybe work at Gucci or Versace. Falls Junior College doesn't offer this degree, so I will eventually have to transfer to a bigger school. I checked out the dorms and they are dinky, so I'll just live at home and drive back and forth. Chick bought me a bitchin' white BMW convertible so I can start college in style.
Love,
Jen
October 14, 1990
Dear Mother,
Thanks BUNCHES for showing up at Parents' Weekend. Dad's gone back to Betty Ford, and my grandparents are so upset they've gone to Hilton Head. Even Dorothy couldn't come. She was at some stupid DOG show. The one time I really and truly need you, and you let me down. I was the only person there without a family.
Jen
November 22, 1990
Dear Mother,
It would be so awesome if you'd send size 10 Doc Martens for my new boyfriend ASAP. His name is Luke Vantrese, and he's a business major at F.C. Those are strange initials for a collegeâhaha. Send size 6 Wellingtons for me, as damp weather is in the forecast. I would prefer an earthy color as it will hide the dirt.
Jen
January 2, 1991
Dear Mother,
Thank you for the perfume and the pocketbook. Luke didn't give me a ring like I thought he would. In fact, he broke up with me. He said I was too spoiled and crazy to make a good wife. I told him HE'D never make a good husband because his dick is too small.
Love,
Jen
March 22, 1991
Dear Bitsy,
Thank you for the lovely birthday present. I can't believe that I'm 37. Inside, I still feel 16. But George and I decided that we'd better try and have
a baby before it was too late. After all of my conflicts with Mama, I just didn't think I'd make a good parent. But I think I'm ready now. I want you to be the godmother.
Love,
Violet
May 21, 1991
Dearest Beauty,
Come back to me. Give me one more chance. Or at least send your phone number. I have so much to tell you.
Love,
Louie
June 14, 1991
Dear Bitsy,
I have called and called, but you're never home. So I had no choice but to send this Air Mail. Before you read any further, take a deep breath. Two days ago, Jennifer was driving down South Maple with her girl friends. They rounded the curve and slammed into Mr. Raymond Fowler, who was pushing his lawn mower across the street. Jennifer lost control of the BMW and drove into a tree. Her girl friends were bumped and bruised, but Jennifer was thrown from the car. The angels must have been with her because she didn't die. All she got was a fractured skull and a broken wrist. Poor Mr. Fowler was pronounced dead at the scene.
The Wentworths smoothed everything over. Somehow they kept it out of the newspapers. They paid for Mr. Fowler's funeral, too. I heard that they gave the Fowler family hush money. Mack said this was vehicular homicide, and that in order to do what she did to that poor man, she must've been flying. I told him that she has been speeding down this path ever since she flunked herself out of college and Chick made her a vice president at his bank.
Tell me what you want me to do.
Love,
Dorothy
June 21, 1991
Bitsy:
Claude told me that you've been calling. And there's no need. Jennifer is perfectly fine. I don't know where you are getting your information, but she doesn't drive recklessly. Chick and I taught that child how to drive years ago. And if you continue to spread these lies, you will be hearing from my attorneys.
Elizabeth Wentworth
TELEGRAM TO BITSY
July 8, 1991
For the last time stop calling and writing.
STOP
Jen won't get letters.
STOP
Do not come.
STOP
Jen not in Crystal Falls.
STOP
Elizabeth Wentworth
July 14, 1991
Dear Bitsy,
Mack and I will meet you at the Nashville airport. But don't expect to see Jennifer. The Wentworths weren't lyingâthey really did whisk her out of town. I will try to find out where. See you soon.
Love,
Dorothy
August 2, 1991
Dear Bitsy,
Despite the stressful circumstances, I so enjoyed visiting with you and Dorothy. It was like old times. All we needed was Earlene and Violet and the Scrabble board. I wish you could've found Jennifer. Could the Wentworths have taken her to California? You know how crazy they are about Betty Ford. They probably have a wing named after them. I will keep firing letters to the Wentworths, so Jennifer won't doubt that we love her. Dorothy says she's been writing up to ten letters a day.
Love,
XX OO
August 6, 1991
Dear Bitsy,
I have thought about the situation with Jennifer and the Wentworths, and I've decided that they're all crazy. Actually, they could be suffering from
folie à deux
, or in their case,
trois
. This is a shared delusion, a kind of contagious psychosis, shared by two or more persons living in close, intimate contact. A dominant personality imposes his (or in this case
her
) delusions onto the more passive members of the group. The cure is separation, but that doesn't seem likely. If you need me, I'm here.
Love,
Violet
