LOOK HOMEWARD,
MONTGOMERY...

LOOK HOMEWARD..........by Terri

Jameson and Bobby Joe were sitting in a diner at 7:00 AM. Magruder walked in, whipped his sunglasses off and joined them. Magruder broke out in a huge grin.
"Case solved! Billy Bob said if I solved it and he could come home in 30 days, he'd triple my fee!"
"What on earth are you talking about?" Bobby Joe said.
"Hey, didn't you guys see last night's news at 11:00? Ernie Shaw turned states evidence. He revealed the hit was actually for Randy Griswold. The Feds swarmed all over that gatehouse on the ranch, and found the backpack. Guess Montgomery's little lady stashed it back there, thinking that whoever owned it would come back for it. DNA tests are being run on tissue samples that they had stored from the autopsy. Pretty soon it's gonna be revealed that the ashes blowing in the wind are those of Griswold and not Billy Bob's. Which means he'd better get his butt back in the States toot-sweet! Don't know how he's gonna explain it, though."
Bobby Joe and Jameson looked at each other and then at Magruder. "Would you call him and tell him he can come home?"
Magruder leaned back in his chair and said, "Hey, I don't make the phone calls! I did what I was hired to do. Now it's up to you guys to tell him he can come home. To his beloved ranch and his wife...who I am sure will be waiting for him with open arms."

Jameson muttered, "Yeah, open arms...to someone else."
Magruder got up, stretched and said, "Ah, it feels SOOOO good to solve a case. And I must admit this was a hum-dinger!" He put his sunglasses back on, gave them a two-thumbs up and left the diner.
Jameson and Bobby Joe looked at each other warily. "Oh, great, who's gonna make THAT phone call?" Jameson said.
"YOU! You're his cousin!"
"SO? You're his best friend!"
Bobby Joe groaned. "Let's not replay this again. Guess we both do it together. It's 1:00 PM Friday in Florence. Do you realize Tequila Sunrise is getting married in 32 hours?"
"Yeah, Anastacia is all excited, thinking of all the soap stars she's gonna see. Who are you going with?"
"No one--except Verla and Jake. I'm going stag, see if I can rustle up a babe. I DID see one I liked at the gym. I asked around, her name is Bess. Nice build. Pretty face. Heard she's a friend of Tequila Sunrise's."
Jameson frowned. "Thirty-two hours. I almost wish we had heard about this AFTER the wedding. But if we don't call him and tell him what we know, because he's gonna find out we knew anyway, he'll make our lives worth squat."

Jameson picked up his cell phone. "I'm going to call him now but you are going to be on your cellphone and it's going to be a conference call. I'm not going this one alone!"
Bobby Joe moaned. "OK, OK--but you know, this 'flight from prosecution or assassination' or whatever has nothing to do with me."
*RING*
"Hello?"
Jameson gulped audibly and then put on this fake cheerfulness in his voice."Hey, cousin, how's it going?"
Montgomery snarled, "How do you think it's going? If I see one more Botticelli or one more Michelangelo, I'm going to take a can of red spray paint to the whole damn museum."
"Well, no one said you had to go to them."
"What the hell else is there to do, cruise the redlight district?" "You mean you haven't been?"
Montgomery ignored that question. "So why are you calling me? Any news?"
Jameson said, "Actually there is."
Bobby Joe was motioning to Jameson to spit it out and get it over with. "Uh, I just talked to Magruder. Helluva nice guy, wonder where he gets his shades, I think they sell them at Wal-Mart.."
"GET ON WITH IT!" Billy Bob yelled.
"OK!MagrudersolvedthecaseanditwasaguynamedRandyGriswoldtheFedsknowaboutit anditissafeforyoutocomehomenowgoodbye!"
"WHAT??!!"
"I SAID....don't make me repeat it again! Come home, Billy Bob. Case is solved and Magruder recommended you come home to at least advert the insurance fraud charge that surely will be coming your way."
Bobby Joe piped in with, "Hey, Billy Bob, how's it hangin'? Oh, and before we forget-heh-heh! BythewayRosamondisgettingmarriedinlessthanthirty-twohourstoJohnGwinnettsomaybeyouwanttorushbackhereanddosomethingaboutit?"
"WHAT?? And don't you dare repeat it because if you do I will use your tongue as a shoelace! She's getting married?"
"Yep!"
"MARRIED? Definitely?"
"Yep! Jameson and Anastacia, Verla, Jake and I are all going." Jameson interrupted with, "Anastacia has a new dress...actually bought a nice bright peacock blue one, she's really excited.."

"WILL YOU GUYS SHUT UP FOR ONE MINUTE! I gotta think! Where's she getting married at?"
"Chapel by the River in Hastings-on-Hudson. Saturday at 8:00 PM. Real nice invitations, too. Engraved with a watercolor..."
'SCREW THAT! I can check out of this pizza factory and be at the Florence Airport in less than an hour. I'll get the first plane out of there from Milan to New York, It's a ten hour flight and I should be there to stop Rosamond from making the biggest mistake of John Gwinnett's life. Thirty-two hours. THIRTY-TWO HOURS? WHY DIDN'T YOU GUYS TELL ME THIS BEFORE?"

"Because we didn't want you to come home and then get bumped off all over again. Besides, Jameson said he didn't think she's actually go through with it because she still loves you but I told him--hey, it's been nice talking to you, BB!"
"What? What did you tell him?"
"I...uh, I don't remember, do you, Jameson?"
Jameson said, "Yes, I remember. You said it looks like tough luck for Billy Bob because she looks really happy and you wished her all the best..."
"I DID NOT! YOU LIE! LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE!"
"NO, YOU LIE! NOSE IS LONGER THAN A TELEPHONE WIRE!"
Billy Bob pulled the phone away and yelled, "IF YOU TWO MORONS DON'T CUT IT OUT I WILL KICK YOUR BUTTS AS SOON AS I GET OFF THAT PLANE!"
Jameson said, "What do you intend to do, cuz?"
"Do? DO? What the hell do you THINK I'm going to do? I'm going to reclaim what's mine, make up for lost time with my wife and then I'll kill her! Or at the very least I'll kick her butt! I'll call you when I land in Milan. DON'T MOVE AWAY FROM THAT PHONE AND IF YOU TIP HER OFF AS TO WHAT IS GOING ON, I'LL STRING YOU BOTH UP ON THAT OLD OAK IN THE MEADOW! Then you can spend eternity with Randy Griswold. I swear, if I could put his pieces back together, I would! Just so I can shoot him myself!"
CLICK!


A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND........by Coralynn

"It's already been an hour!" WandaSue says angrily to the lady at the drug store. "You advertise one-hour service, but you're running overtime. Do I get them free because you're taking too long?"
The photo technician takes several deep breaths to help her keep her cool. "I could get these done faster if you weren't talking to me," she says, hoping it doesn't cause a row.
"OK, then, we'll wait outside, but in ten minutes we'll be back! If those pictures aren't developed by then, I'm going to speak to the manager!" she grabs Belle by the arm and pulls her outside. They sit on a bench.
"If these pictures come out clear, we're in business again, Belle. Wonder how much I can get off Rosebud to keep them away from the press?"
Belle gives her a wan smile. "I'm still so tired from last night, it's hard for me to care," Belle tells her.
"Hell, all you had to do was sit in the car! I was the one who put her butt on the line and took the pictures! I got a few from the front, too........oh yeah......full frontal nudity, just what the tabloids eat up. Even if they do put a little black box over the frontal goodies, anybody with half an eye can fill that in! John's picture should be great...........he's well known and the Enquirer would publish that in a heartbeat. The other guys won't interest the tabloids, but having pictures of them will make it look like an orgy. I know, I can tell them that John belongs to a homosexual swingers club! That's it! Perfect!"

Belle looks at her watch, "Are the ten minutes up yet?"
"Just about, let's go in and get them!"
As WandaSue and Belle approach the counter where the pictures are packaged up and given to the customer, she sees the technician looking through them, frowining.
"Those are mine! Here's my ten bucks, hand 'em over!"
"These are rather pornographic," the tech says, "I'm requested by law to inform the authorities of any photos like these. I wouldn't have even developed them had I known the content."
WandaSue snatches the package from the tech, throws the money on the counter and storms out.
"She has a nerve! Old hag! What would she know about pornography, anyway?" WandaSue checks out the contents, "Good, at least she made double copies like I asked her to. One copy for us, one copy for the tabloids.....I can run copies off on a zerox machine, too......here's a place that has one........let's go in and make copies to mail to John and Rose. Sort of an early wedding present!"
They enter the small store; WandaSue runs off some black and white copies, shoves them into the package with the other pictures, waves at the salesclerk and walks rapidly toward her car.
Belle lags behind. "I think I'm getting sick, WandaSue! Feel my forehead, is it hot?"
"Nothing about you is 'hot' Belle. Like I told you before, ya gotta pull your own weight! But at least you're someone to talk to, so I guess I'm stuck!"
Isabella thinks, "I'm the one who's stuck! First in the 12th Century, and now here! If I had the nerve, I'd go over to that house on Winding Willow and ask William to take me back to Court. But right now I feel sick, so I'll do that another day."


PARTY FALL-OUT!.......by Terri

Eleanor loaded the camera chip on the computer. All the girls gathered around.
"OK, girls--let's see what the guys at the Castle were hiding under those togas! And...voila!" Marthy and Bess stood there in shock with their mouths open.
Rose moved to cover Mathy's eyes with her hands.
Marilyn said, "Ohhh....Rose! Nice set of buns you're marrying!" They all started laughing.
Various comments came across.
"Was the water really THAT cold?"
"I didn't know Daniel had a tattoo!"
Rose said, "I didn't either--I mean, he didn't last year... That IS Daniel...isn't it?"
"Thankfully Henry and William didn't 'toga' it!" The girls stuck their fingers down their throats and said "ACK ACK!" and "Ewwww!" "Gross me out the door!"
Eleanor said, "Let's see...that's Jerry!" Everyone looked at El. "Well, it is!"
Bethia pointed and said, "That's Roger. He has the cutest dimples on his derriere!"
Eleanor kept flipping through the pictures. "Hey, there's Slim!" "Way to go, Slim!"
Rose said, "I don't know why he felt he needed a manual to pick up girls...."
Eleanor flipped to the last picture. The room was dead silent. Rose covered her mouth and said, "HOTSPUR?? Ohhhh......MY GOODNESS!!" Eleanor started laughing. "Good thing your mother came that night. You'd have been scared for the rest of your life, Rose!"


The sun shone brightly on Friday. The girls were sitting around with their croissants and coffee. "Wonder how the mighty warriors who tried to lay seige to OUR castle are feeling this fine morning?" Marilyn said. Eleanor looked out the window. "I see one body lying in the grass. Looks like Hots! Rose? Want to go out and check him--it---out?"

Rose threw a pillow at Eleanor. "I'll pass!"
Celeste said, "I shouldn't tell you--but I got a covert phone call from William. He apologized for the antics of his 'boys' as he said. He said the body count was about nine--ten, if you want to count Hotspur. Sounds like alot of them have the Budweiser flu over there. He said he will send them all on their various destinations in the next hour."
Bethia stretched out. "My poor Roger. He's not used to drinking. He doesn't drink much at home." Bess said, "Bethia, is your face getting rounder?" "Yeah, you look different."

Celeste said, "It's called marital bliss. Right, Bethia?" "Yep! That's it! And now one of my best friends is getting married. Rehearsal dinner is tonight, isn't it, Rose? Who's walking down with who?"
"Let's see--it's a little weirded out since El is my maid of honor. On account of we shared so much."
"Yes, including Henry!"
"El walks with Roger, Bethia walks with Jerry. You can change off later. Marilyn has Luke, Bess has Daniel ( and watch him,.Bess!) and Marthy has Jack."
Marthy's eyes were shining as Rose winked at her and Marthy mouthed a "Thank you, Rose!"
"The rehearsal dinner is at that new Seafood restaurant. John got them to reserve the back room so we have it all to ourselves. Will is the ringbearer and Gwen's little girl Sally is the flower girl. Celeste, are you sure Julie won't be too much for you?"
"Pshaw, Rosamond, it's not every little girl who gets to be at her parents' wedding!"

Over at the Castle, the bacchanalia was winding down. Alka-seltzer, V-8 juice and Excedrins were passed around along with the Visine. "Ooohh..my head!" Slim said. "You guys party too hardy! But hey! It was a blast!"
Daniel said, "Where's Hotspur?"
Rafe said, "I think we left him out in the grass last night!"
"Won't he hypothermiate?"
"With HIS alcohol level? He's got antifreeze in there!"
"Did anyone cover him up?"
"Cover him up? You mean he's lying NUDE out there?"
The guys dissolved into laughter until their heads began to hurt. William stood up. "Men? I declare this bachelor party officially over. And now---I'm going home and getting some sleep!"
Henry woke up. "Hey, where's everyone going? I feel refreshed!"
"Yeah, you would! You had a good eight hour's sleep!"

One by one they staggered outside and into the bright sunlight. "Oooh, that hurts!" Daniel said. He grabbed a blanket and walked over to Hotspur and nudged him with his foot. "Hots? Rise and shine! Time to get up!" Hotspur moaned, "Uuuhhhhh!"
Daniel dropped a blanket on him. "I would highly suggest you get over to the Castle and pick up your clothes. You have been lying here naked all night long!"
Hotspur sat up. "I HAVE?" "Un huh! And I'll just bet the women have had their binoculars fixed on you!" Hotspur ran his fingers through his hair and said "I heard it pays to advertise!"

Bethia had left to tend to what she was sure would be the Granddaddy of all hangovers for poor Roger. El knew Jerry could take care of himself. John and William staggered up the stairs and came in the back door. William frowned disapprovingly at John. "You men made a spectacle of yourselves." John stared down at the floor embarrassed. "Good thing the tabloids weren't there!"

Rosamond, Eleanor, Marilyn and Celeste sat there at the kitchen table still in their jammies. Marthy and Bess had already gone to bed. "Where are the others?"
"Gone to their respective abodes."
Celeste said, "How much of a mess is down there, William?"
"You don't want to know!"
"Marilyn and I will go down there later and help clean up."
"Got anything to take paint out of wine? Er, wine out of paint!"
"Yeah, I got 'stuff'!"
John started up the stairs. Rosamond caught up to him. "Just where do you think you are going, Mr. John Gwinnett?"
"Upstairs. To our room. To bed."
"Oh no you don't!"
"What are you talking about? I'm tired. I want to go to bed. No meaningful discussions, Rose. I don't want to hear about the house. Or the wedding. Or anything! I NEED SLEEP!"
"No talking, John.I want you to leave.NOW!"
"What in hell are you talking about?"
"You are not allowed to see the bride before the weddiing."
"Rose, it's not until tomorrow. Let me get some sleep NOW!"
"No, John, you have to go. You can stay with Henry at the Castle. Or why don't you stay with Slim? Or Hotspur? Or Daniel and Rafe? Anywhere but here!"
"Rosamond, I am going to bed and I am going to bed now. Are you coming?"
Rose stamped her foot. "NO!"
John said, "Suit yourself. I'll find lodging elsewhere for tonight. But right now--beddy bye time! Goodnight!"
Rose yelled as he closed the bedroom door. "OK--but if we have bad luck, it's on YOUR HEAD!"


THE JOURNEY BEGINS, SORT OF.....by Coralynn

"What'd'ya mean there's no plane out till this evening? It's noon....do you mean to tell me you have no flight till 6 tonight? No good!" he slams down the phone and pushes in the number of another airline.
It rings several times, then a woman answers, "American!"
"Look! I need a flight out of Milan to New York as soon as possible! What's the earliest one you have?"
"I'll look, sir," the line is silent while the reservationest fiddles with the computer, "Our next one is at 5pm. Would you like to book a seat? We only have one 'middle' seat left in coach."
"Is first class full?"
"Yes, it appears to be full. Those seats are the first to go. Would you like the 'middle' seat in coach, sir?"
"Shit!" he yells, then catches himself going out of control and reigns in, "Yes, please. But....before you book it, do you know if any other airline has an earlier flight to New York?"
"Well, there is a small airline that uses DC-6s that has one out of Milan to several places in Spain, there is one that goes to New York eventually, but it stops in 5 European cities before it goes across the ocean."
"That wouldn't be any better. So, get me a seat on the 5pm flight."
She takes his information and tells him to be sure to be at the airport two to two and a half hours before departure, especially if he's flying internationally.
"Oh yeah, no problem!" he tells her and hangs up.
"There go five hours down the drain!" he mutters as he paces his hotel room, then starts slamming his clothing into a suitcase and a carry-on.


REHEARSAL DINNER......by Terri

"John? It's five o'clock. Time to get up. John? JOHN??" Rosamond shook him by the shoulder. John didn't stir. He was deep in a REM cycle. "John? Don't make me do this...." she took a pitcher of water and dumped it on his head.
"WHAT?? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, DROWN ME?"
Rose said, "Did you stop to think you guys might have killed yourselves falling into that moat? In your state you all could have drowned!"
John sat groggily on the side of the bed. "What time is it?"
"I told you--five o'clock. We have the chapel from 6:00-7:00 for the rehearsal and then the dinner at 7:30. You need to get up NOW!"
John flopped back down on the bed. He grabbed the blanket and mumbled, "Later..we'll do it later..."
Rose grabbed the blanket and said, "NO, we will NOT do it later!"
John got to his feet and swayed. "You are a harsh taskmaster, Miss de Clifford!"
"No, I just want everything to be perfect! Now head to the shower."
John stepped into the shower. Rosamond came into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. "John?"
"Hmm?"
"Where are you planning on staying tonight?"
"Here. Why."
"NO! NO WAY!"
"Aw, come on, Rosamond. That's just an old wives' tale."
"I don't care. Park your sorry butt somewhere else tonight. The spectacle you guys made last night..."
"What was that stuff on the sidewalk anyway, WD-40?"
"Something like that. So figure out where you are staying tonight because after the rehearsal dinner I don't want to see you until the wedding."
"Aww, Rose..." "Don't 'aww, Rose' me!"
"Hand me a towel, please."
She handed John a towel. "I guess I'll stay with Daniel and Rafe."
Rosamond said, "Not a good idea. NO!"
"Why not?"
"Because Daniel would drug you, assume your identity and come to the wedding posed as you. People would say, 'where's Daniel?' and he would say 'he got the flu and couldn't make it.' Then he would get Rafe to fill in the blank usher spot. And I would end up married to Daniel. You would be in some sort of drug nirvana. No, I want you to avoid Daniel for the next 24 hours."
"Don't be ridiculous, Rosamond."
Rose raised her eyebrow. "Not so far fetched. It's been done before. I'll meet you downstairs."

Downstairs William and Celeste were drinking their coffee. Rosamond picked Julie up out of her playpen. Rose turned to Will. "Have you taken a shower, young man?"
"Uh..Yes?"
"UH....NOOOO? March upstairs. You have ten minutes. Please, Will."
"Celeste, are you sure you don't mind co-ordinating the bridesmaids walking down?"
"My pleasure, dear. Juanita is minding Julie while I do that."
Rosamond threw her arms around Celeste. "You are the best mom I never had!"
William cleared his throat. "And the dad!" William smiled proudly.

Within a half hour everyone was ready to go and they headed for the Chapel by the River.


BILLY BOB, TERRORIST?.........by Coralynn

Billy Bob arrives at the Milan airport two and a half hours early, as suggested. He has nothing else to do, having already checked out of the hotel and pacing is getting old.
He gets in the line for international flights and waits what seems forever to be processed through. After an hour, he finally gets to the counter. After looking at his papers and passport, a grim looking security guard wands him.
A rasping noise is heard.
"Please step aside over here, sir!" the guard tells him.
"Empty your pockets into this container!"
Billy Bob feels around in every pocket and dumps the contents into the bowl.
"Just as I thought! You're trying to carry a weapon onto the plane!" the guard says with satisfaction.
"That's not a weapon, it's my swiss army knife. Everyone carries one of those."
"But not onto a plane!" the guard glowers at him and begins to unfurl all the little knives and cork-screws. "See here? This cork-schrew is a weapon!"
"Not the way I use it, it's not!" Billy Bob is getting impatient with this nit-picker.
"Follow me." The guard takes him into a small room and instructs him to sit.
"Full name, please. Place of residence, proof of nationality...."
"Mark Olson from St. Paul, Minnesota!" he lies to the man. His papers have this name and address, but they're bogus. Hopefully this guy won't find that out.
The guard calls for another worker who is told to do a background check. The lady is almost as intimidating as the guard. She looks at his papers and asks his occupation.
"Farmer!" he thinks fast.
She and the guard both look at him askance. "St. Paul is a City, not a place where people farm!" she begins, "I've seen every episode of the Mary Tyler Moore Show, and she lived in St. Paul. How about you, Hank?"
The guard grunts that he has as well.
"Remember when she tossed her little beret into the air? What was behind her? City buildings or farms? It was a City! Remember the episode, Hank, when she had this terrible cold and had to go to an awards show......"
"Please!" Billy Bob pleads, "I need to catch my plane!"
"How do you explain that you're a farmer who lives in the City?" the guard demands.
"I live outside the City," Billy Bob disembles, "That's just the address I have in town! Now can I please go?"
"Not quite yet," the woman says as she brings screen after screen up on the computer. "Seems we can't find you anywhere. Are you sure your information is correct?"
"Yes, now please...."
The guard and the lady confer in the hallway for about 20 minutes, during which BB is looking at his watch nervously, thinking, "that plane must be boarding now, damn!"
They finally come back in the room and the guard puts BB's swiss army knife high up on a shelf that BB figures probably contains all those other 'weapons' people have tried to carry on board.
"You may go now, but I warn you......your name is on a list of suspected terrorists now. When you get to your destination, you will be detained again. New York is it? They really don't like your kind around there considering what happened. Why are you going to New York if you live in St. Paul, Minnesota anyway?"
"My Aunt Marthy and Uncle Sid live there. They're having a 50th wedding anniversary tomorrow, and it's imperative I get there on time!"
BB congratulates himself on his quick thinking, leaves the little room and runs as fast as he can for his gate.

Billy Bob is one of the last people to board the plane. He looks at his boarding pass and sees that his seat is 14-B. Sure enough, when he reaches the fourteenth row back, there's the empty seat, right between two very large people. Not large as in tall, but large as in wide.
He makes eye contact with the person sitting on the aisle and asks, "Could you let me get into my seat?" as nicely as he can.
She is in the process of stuffing a ladyfinger into her mouth, and the cream filling is on her hands. When she gets up and out into the aisle, she braces herself against the aisle armrest, leaving a visible coating of cream on it.
BB tries to get into the row without touching the smeared-up armrest, but is unsuccessful. He sits, then looks around for something to use to wipe off his sticky hands.
He reaches the button that summons a cabin steward. A young woman in a uniform walks by. He says, "Miss? Miss? Are you a stewardess?"
She ignores him. Then a few minutes later she walks back the other way. He raises his sticky hand and and yells out, "HELP!"
She gives him a bored look and pauses, "yes?"
"Do you have anything I can use to wipe off my hand, please?"
"No. You'll have to go to the restroom for that. But right now we're getting ready for departure and all passengers must remain in their seats with their seat belts fastened."
She walks away, double-checking to make sure all the overhead compartments are securely closed.
"Anybody around here have a Kleenex?" BB asks in desperation. The rotund man in the window seat glares at him and hands him a tissue. BB smiles his appreciation, but then has no liquid with which to wet his hand. The fat lady who is responsible for this situation has now moved on to eating a McDonald's pie. The cherry filling is oozing out the sides and about to drop in her lap. BB can hardly stand to watch.
He spits on his hand, then rubs it with the tissue. Not wet enough. He spits on it twice more, then rubs it with the tissue. Well, he thinks, that's a little better.
Since the air has not been turned on in the plane yet, it begins to feel too warm, and being in such close proximity to two other bodies, he's uncomfortably hot.
He reaches into the pocket that holds magazines. Vogue. No. Harpers. No. The magazine the airline puts out. Better than nothing. He proceeds to read through every single article, no matter how uninteresting. Pretty soon he reaches the back cover.

Why aren't they airborne? he wonders. We fastened out seatbelts over a half an hour ago because we were preparing for departure, that attendant told them. They haven't moved an inch yet, much less risen in the air.
"Miss? Miss?" he asks the same flight attendant, "When are we going to take off?"
She ignores him and keeps walking.
He tries to relax. Talks to himself, "Now, BB, you only have this one flight......Milan to New York. A slight delay in departure is not the end of the world. You'll still make it in plenty of time to keep Rose from marrying that Gwinett creep. When she sees you, she will run into your arms, and any thoughts of marrying another will disappear.........."
Just then the pilot came on the speaker,
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry to inconvenience you, but the mechanics have found something questionable and want to fix it before we depart. This is for your safety. If you will all remain in your seats, we should be ready to leave soon."
"Wonder what 'soon' means in airline parlance?" BB wonders to himself.
The rotund man to his right has fallen asleep and is drooping toward BB, who gently nudges him back over. The man is immovable! His head is almost touching BB, so, before it does and totally grosses him out, BB says loudly, "OH LOOK! See the beautiful sunset!" and heaves the man over. The man's eyes open, but don't focus, however, he then droops over toward the window.
"Should have brought reading material," BB chastises himself, "This is almost unendurable."
Some people, like Mr. Rotund, can sleep in any position, sitting up, no problem. BB is not one of those people. He sits there wishing there was something to do! but alas, there is nothing.
Another hour goes by, during which the Pilot comes on the speaker twice more, thanking everyone for their patience, saying their departure is imminent.

BB feels a slight movement of the plane and his hopes rise. Oh good! We'll be taking off! At last!
As the plane taxis out, the Pilot comes on the speaker and tells them, "There has been a back log of flights needing to take off. We have only 8 planes ahead of us ...Thank you for your patience.."
BB is about ready to jump out of his skin! The plane should have been airborne an hour and a half ago! At least!
It takes another half an hour before his plane gets the go-ahead and finally lifts off.

"The movie we will be seeing this evening is "Dumb and Dumber"......so for your enjoyment, the flight attendants will be passing out headphones, the charge being only five dollars."
BB look to see where the screens are. There are a few strategically placed, but, unfortunately, not in a place where he has a clear shot at seeing them. He doesn't want to see that movie, but it's either that or brain-exploding boredom.
He taps the man sitting in front of him, "Sir, if you could move your head a little to the left, I could see the screen."
The man gives him a look of incomprehension. Oh, BB thinks, the guy probably doesn't understand English. Never mind the movie, then. I'll walk up and down the aisle, maybe visit the tiny bathroom, then walk up and down the aisle some more.
The plane suddently lurches, then bobs around in turbulence.
"All passengers return to their seats. We seem to be experiencing a little turbulence, so until further notice, please keep your seatbelts fastened." The Pilot again over the speaker. BB almost feels like he knows this guy, as he's the only voice he's been able to hear in the last few hours.
Forget the idea of walking the aisle.
The plane pitches precariously. This is more than just a little turbulence, BB thinks, this feels like one of those disaster movies in which a plane goes down on a deserted mountain top and the passengers are all severely injured, and it's six days before they're found, bleeding and broken.

"Good evening, this is your Pilot. We have been instructed to fly out of this turbulent air, so we'll be landing in Geneva in about an hour or two. From there you can proceed on to your final destinations."
"Geneva? Not Geneva, New York, that would be too good!" BB thinks, "Certainly the Pilot doesn't mean Geneva, Switzerland. Why would we be going in that direction? Because it gets us out of the turbulence? This is nuts!"
He looks up and over the mound of humanity that sits between him and the window......trying to see out, to see what terrain lies below. That doesn't work. Well, he thinks, when we land in Geneva, I'm going to buy a book to read, a paperback if they have them. I don't even care if all I can find is a slushy romance novel, I have to have something to read!

The turbulence lets up and after what seems like a long, long time to BB, the Pilot announces that they are approaching their final descent into Geneva.
"Oh please, please," BB prays to every Diety he can think of, and even some whose names he makes up, "Get me to a decent bathroom. Get me a book. Get me something to eat. Get me HOME!"


GENEVA--JUST ANOTHER STOP!......by Terri

Billy Bob walked up to the ticket counter at American Airlines. He looked at his watch. Nine o'clock. It's 3:00 PM back home and I am stuck in Geneva, Switzerland.
He approached the woman behind the counter. "I was rerouted from the Milan to New York flight. I need the next available flight to New York."
"We don't have a direct flight right now. The best I can do is give you a reservation on the 10 PM flight but you have to change planes in London. Heathrow Airport."

Billy Bob sighed. "Bring it on. Is there a bookstore here?"
"Around the corner. Here are your tickets. You are confirmed on Flight 3904 to London arriving 12:30 AM. There is a two and a half hour layover in London with a connecting flight to New York. Your plane leaves London at 3:00 AM and you arrive in New York City at 4:00 AM Saturday morning."
"That the best you can do?"
"I've afraid so."
Billy Bob headed to the bookstore. He browsed through the books. Let's see...'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus'.... that should be Men are from 21st century, Women are from 13th century....a John Grisham--read that already. Hey, Robert B. Parker has a new Spenser out...I'll get that one...that and 'What Women Want'.
Yeah--If only they would tell us! Like shooting in the dark!"
He headed over to the restaurant. May as well get a decent meal. The airplane food looks pretty bad. At least I have a window seat. I can maybe grab a few hours sleep.

He sat down and had a roast beef dinner. He finished off the meal with a scotch and soda and tried to focus on what he was going to do when he got home. First thing I do is grab Rose and the baby and get back to the ranch. Probably take her to Sundown for a few months. Bobby Joe can watch the ranch. Gotta get her away from New York and those friends of hers..and away from him. I get in at 4:00 AM...by the time I go through customs, add another hour...a rental car and drive to Chappaqua. I'll tack on another two hours. That gets me home and at the ranch by 7:00 AM. Thirteen hours to spare. Somehow I have to find a way to get to her.

Finally they called boarding for Flight 3904. He stowed his carryon and settled in his seat. Ahead of him a man in a business suit got on. The man must have seen someone he knew because he yelled out, "HI, JACK!" Aw, hell! he thought. This isn't going well at all!


THE TORTURE CONTINUES..........by Coralynn

The man being addressed, obviously named "Jack," yells back, "HO! BRUCE! Imagine finding you here!"
The two men are seated 3 rows apart, on opposite sides of the aisle, but proceed to shout back and forth. BB is beginning to develop a headache.
This plane actually takes off, and BB is looking forward to getting some sleep, which isn't easy on a plane, but he's so tired he figures he'll pass out and that's close enough to sleep for him!!
Alas, the men continue to yell back and forth. They talk about sports, business, then about the people they have in common back in whatever jerkwater town they come from. BB pushes the button that is supposed to summon a flight attendant.
A harried looking woman in a uniform asks him what he wants, and, when he tells her to please inform the men who are yelling that they're disturbing the other passengers, she shakes her head.
"Why not?"
"Sir, I don't wish to get into an altercation with anyone on this trip. This is the third flight I've had to work, back to back. I can barely stay awake, and I have no energy for anything unpleasant. Perhaps you'd like to tell them. Right now I have to get the drinks cart ready."
She goes to the back of the plane to do just that.
BB shakes his head in defeat. Then he notices a young man and woman both go into the bathroom, and wonders what that is all about. He sighs and tries to sleep, but the noise level from the two yelling men is too loud, and the window he's leaning against feels cold and hard. He shifts around in his seat. He sees the bathroom door open, and a cloud of smoke emerge as the man and woman take their seats.
An alarm sounds.
Three flight attendants rush to that bathroom and then one goes into the cockpit.
Several minutes later, BB hears the Pilot, a different one this time from the last leg of the flight, come on the speaker.
"We'll be returning to the Geneva Airport, folks. Someone smoked marijuana in the bathroom. They will be arrested and we will then depart again. Sorry for the inconvience."

The plane begins to turn. BB bangs his head against the window several times in utter frustartion. There go two or more hours down the tubes! he thinks. Can anything else go wrong?


REHEARSAL and REFUSAL.....by Terri

One by one the wedding party trickled in, singly and in pairs. Gwen's littlle girl Sally was a sweet four year old with dark eyes and dark curling hair. Will turned to John and whispered, "Uncle John, I DON'T want to walk down with a GIRL! She smells like powder!"
John laughed. "Will, girls are SUPPOSED to smell like that. Later on you will find it wonderful!" Will scowled, "If she throws a rose petal on me, I'm gonna deck her with the pillow. THWACK! Right on her head!"
Rosamond came over. "Will, I expect you to mind your manners. Imagine you are carrying the Sword Excalibur to Arthur. Can you do that for me? Pretend she is Lady Guinevere."
Will frowned. "Get real, Mommy! This ain't no sword and believe me, she's no Lady Guinevere!"
John had to turn his back to keep Will from seeing him laugh.
'WILL DE CLIFFORD! I am shocked! Now, you take her arm and you march down that aisle and you WILL do it nicely!"
Will said, "Allright--but I'm NOT going to kiss her!"
Rose said quietly, "No one said you had to." She turned to John and rolled her eyes.
"BOYS! You're all the same!"
John said, "In twenty years he'll be on panty raids and floating in moats in togas!"
Rose said, "Heaven help us all! At least he'll have a father to talk to! If it was Henry, he'd be there right with him!"
Celeste co-ordinated the wedding procession. Marthy grabbed Jack by the arm and he walked proudly down the aisle with her. For two reasons--he was seeinig his old boss' 'woman' marry someone else and he had the prettiest ex-serving wench on his arm. Bess and Daniel came next, Daniel actually carried it off without incident.
Marilyn and Luke were next, looking like the Odd Couple---but a very striking odd couple. Marilyn with her bright bleached hair and red lips and full figure, Luke with his long shaggy hair but looking quite distinguished. Bethia came down with Jerry, El came with Roger. Rosamond whispered to Celeste, "I know I should have paired them with their right partners, but Eleanor has been with me every step of the way and bailed me out of some big messes!"

Finally, Rosamond took William's arm and he walked her down the aisle. They practiced it three times and pronounced it perfect.
John took William aside and said, "Did you get them?" William said, "I promise you, they will be all that you expect!" John said, "I just want to surprise her and make this the most perfect day in her life!"

The wedding rehearsal dinner was down the block at the new seafood restaurant. Gwen and her husband were invited along with little Sally. Sally kept trying to sit next to Will but he wasn't having any of it. Rosamond took him aside. "Young man, how would you like it if some little boy treated your little sister that way?"
"I'd punch his lights out. No one would do that to Julie!"
"Well, then, consider yourself fortunate that Sally doesn't have a brother. Now you sit there and you be nice!"
"Awww, Mommy...."
John came over. "Will, sometimes we have to do what we can for the ladies. Do this for your Mom and me, OK? Make me proud, son!" Will brightened at this. "Uncle John, when do I get to call you daddy?" "Now if you want, officially in 24 hours!" And with that Will scampered off and took his place next to Sally.

Rosamond smiled, "John, you're so good for him...and for me!" She squeezed his arm. "We'll finally be a family! But... I heard you want eleven babies...."
John smiled and put his fingers to her lips. "Hush, now! Time to discuss that later!"
"But...." and then he kissed her.
The dinner went well, everyone had a good time and lobsters and shrimp and all sorts of seafood were offered. The children had hamburgers and fries, of course!
William ordered Dom Perignon and everyone had a glass. William stood up and said, "I could make a fancy toast but 'll save it for tomorrow night. Right now I can do a toast in one word. John? Rosamond? All I can say is...'WHEW!'"
Afterwards, Rosamond asked John, "Where are you staying tonight?" He said, "In deference to you, I am staying with Roger and Bethia. They very graciously offered me lodging in their spare room since I am being kicked out of our room tonight."
Rosamond smiled, "Thank you. I guess this is goodbye. Next time I see you will be at the Chapel." She held out her hand. "Goodnight, Mr. Gwinnett. Till we meet again."
John stepped towards her. "Surely you can do better than that, Miss de Clifford!"
He swept her into his arms and gave her a kiss to remember him by. He stepped back, turned over his shoulder and said, "See ya, Toots!" She watched him go, trying to catch her breath.

That night as Rose was getting ready for bed, she heard stones being thrown at her window. She looked out and said, "John? What are you doing down there?" She gazed down. "It's me...Daniel. Rosamond, I have to talk to you. It's important."
She said, "Allright. Let me get my robe on." She slipped downstairs. Everyone else had gone to bed. She met him out in the garden. "OK, Daniel, what is so all-fired important?"
Daniel stood there staring at the ground. He looked up at her with misery in his eyes and then he blurted out, "Rosamond, this is all wrong! You don't belong with John, you belong with me! I--I love you! I know I haven't gone about it in the right way, but I'm willing to change! I'll be all that you want me to be...and more! I know I can do it!"

Rosamond said gently, "Daniel, you just don't get it. I can't build a lifetime on one passionate weekend we shared. For heaven's sake, I thought you were John. Doesn't that tell you something?"
"Please, Rose! Let's leave! We'll grab the kids and I'll take you anywhere you like! Rome! Paris! London! Tahiti! For Pete's sake, I'll even move to Iowa with you! If you go through with this, you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life."
Rosamond reached out and touched Daniel's cheek. Her voice faltered but she said, "I am sorry, Daniel. I never meant to hurt you. But my answer is no. I love John and John alone. I have loved him since I first met him in Southold and he was still married to Elizabeth. You can't impose on something you don't understand."

Daniel looked at her. "What about our baby? What about Julie?"
"Daniel, Julie is not yours. She's John's daughter. I know that for sure."
"What did you do, have a DNA test done?"
"Yes, we did. She showed 99% to be John's child."
Daniel turned on his heel. He looked back and said, "But there's that 1% chance she's mine, Rose. MINE!"
And with that, he left her standing in the middle of the garden.


THE LONDON CONNECTION.........by Coralynn

The plane actually lands at Heathrow Airport without incident.
"From here on my luck has to change!" BB tells himself as he gathers his carry-on from the overhead bin and proceeds off the plane.
He looks at the boarding pass for the next leg of the trip and sees the gate number which looks to be at the opposite end of the terminal. He sees that he has only 35 minutes between flights, too, which causes him to run toward his new gate.

There aren't many people in that waiting-to-board area, and only one person hanging around the desk. This is strange, he thinks, as he goes up to that one person and asks what happened to his flight, did it leave already?
"That flight has been cancelled because of bad weather conditons," the lady tells him.
"Where are the other passengers?" he's puzzled.
"They are probably at hotels."
"I don't want a hotel, not that I couldn't use a decent stretch of sleep, but it's imperative that I get to New York!" BB is feeling desperate.
"Is there another flight to NY soon?"
"In another couple hours, but that plane is booked solid."
"How about standby?"
"If you would like that, then fine. Just stay near that gate, which is,,,,," she looks to check on the gate of the other flight, ."......on the west side of the terminal. There's a tram that transports people......"
"I wonder where my luggage is?" he muses aloud.
"No doubt it will arrive at your final destination, but whether on the same plane you're on, it's hard to say. Oh, just a minute......" she goes to her computer and with some enthusiasm, tells him, "Your original flight to NY has been reinstated!"
"YES! That's the first piece of good news I've had on this trip! When will it leave?"
"We've given away the plane, so we'll have to find a new one. Then we have to assemble a crew."
"Where'd the crew we were supposed to have go?"
"Hard to say, but the Pilot is on a flight to Barbados, yes, he is. Just have a seat while we get to work on this."
He has a seat. He pulls out the Spencer book he's about half way through and reads that. Sure hope the plane leaves before I finish this, he thinks to himself.

He finishes the book. There is activity around the gate and the desk. A few other passengers are also waiting for this flight, not having gone to hotels. He looks at them. They don't look all bedraggled, which is how he feels and hopes he it doesn't show. A man carrying a large briefcase sits next to him.
"Looks like it's a 'go!'" he smiles at BB.
"It is? We've been sitting here for 3 hours, and I don't see anything happening. What do you know that I don't?"
The man adjusts himself in the chair, "I heard they found a Pilot. He just came in from a flight that originated in South Africa."
"You mean that Pilot, who's already flown half way around the globe, is now going to pilot our plane?"
"Looks like it!" the man doesn't seem the least bit concerned.
BB sees a man in a pilot's uniform stride toward the entrance to the plane. He has a haggard expression and is not smiling.
The person working the little desk announces, "All we are waiting for is the food vendors to load the plane, and we'll be boarding. Look at your boarding passes. We'll be boarding from the higher numbers. If you have rows 50 down to 40, get in line.
BB's row is 21, so he remains seated.
Finally the food has been loaded and the passengers begin boarding. There aren't as many of them as there would have been had the flight gone on time, and BB estimates that half the plane will be empty.
"Good!" he thinks, "Maybe I can lie across several seats and sleep!"
His row is called and he boards. The plane has been quickly cleaned from the trip it just had from South Africa, but it smells musty. He finds his seat and collapses into it.

He's able to stretch out across 3 seats, too; the first thing that's gone right on the entire trip so far. As he begins to lose consciousness, he hears the Pilot come on.
"We will be flying at an alititude of 36,000 feet....."
BB groans, and thinks, "ask me if I care! Just get this bucket of bolts across the ocean, will ya?" and finally falls asleep.

He is awakened by a flight attendant asking what he'd like to eat, chicken or tuna?
He sits up with some effort, and asks, "chicken or tuna what?"
"Sandwiches."
"Tuna."
He's handed a plastic tray with a sloppy looking tuna sandwich, a pickle, a few potato chips in a bag, and an apple. He lifts the apple and takes a major chunk out of it, wondering if the pesticides have been washed off. Ahhhh hell, he thinks, who cares? and devours the whole thing.
He finds the book about women and cracks it open. OK, now, what DO women want? He begins the first chapter and finds it crashingly boring. All about estrogen as opposed to testosterone. Big whoop!
He paws around in the magagine slot and sees Field and Stream. Being more appropriate than Vogue and Harpers Bazaar, he eagerly opens it and begins reading. Every single thing in the magazine is read. Even the ads in the back.
He looks out the window.......ocean. Of course it's ocean, what do you expect, BB, the Sahara desert? he laughs, with my luck that's exactly what I would see. Wonder how much longer till we get to NY? Another hour, I think, I hope.

This Pilot's voice is not as mellifluous as the pilot on the first plane, the pilot BB began to feel a kinship with. He announces:
"There will be a detour to Boston, as New York City is totally fogged in and no planes are allowed to land. We'll go to Boston, refuel, and head back to New York when we're given the all clear. Sorry to inconvience you, and thank you for your patience, and thank you for flying American."
BB starts to laugh. This can't be happening! This is like something out of that Trains, Planes and Automobiles movie. I thought that movie was funny, but this is not! I suppose at some time in the future Rose and I will laugh about the plane trip from hell that I had to endure to get to her in time. She'll think it's hysterical. If all goes well from here on in, I'll still make it! I have to!"


THE COUNTDOWN........by Terri

Rosamond woke early to the sounds of the baby crying. Julie was in a tangle of her blankets. Rosamond picked her up and cuddled her. "Hey, sweetheart! I'm marrying your daddy today!"
Will came bouncing in and jumped up and down on Rosamond's bed. "Where's Uncle John?" Rose smiled at him. "He stayed at Uncle Roger and Aunt Beth's house."
"How come?" "The 'how come' is because he is not supposed to see the bride before the wedding."
Will bounded down the stairs two at a time and made a final leap over the last three.
Rosamond changed Julie and came downstairs, the baby on her hip. Celeste looked up and poured her some coffee. "Happy is the bride on whom the sun doth shine! Look, Rosamond! A perfect day!" Rose sighed happily. "Perfect is right!"

Over at Roger and Bethia's, John stumbled to the breakfast table in a T-shirt and sweatpants and a beard stubble. Bethia looked at him over the paper. "You look like death warmed over. Better shape up. You have..." and she looked at her watch."...exactly twelve hours!" John grinned. "Twelve hours. If I can get through the next twelve hours, my life will be wonderful!" Roger grinned and passed him the Visine. "Plans for the day, John?" "Yep! I plan to go over to the new house and see if there is any way we can inhabit it after we get back from Fiji. But doubtful. Murphy said at least three months. THREE MONTHS with William!"

The day was a bustle of excitement. Everyone was scurrying around, tying up loose ends.Celeste looked into the pantry and called William over. "William, what is that in the pantry and why is it there?" William looked covertly around. "Shhhh! John requested it be given to Rosamond right before the ceremony. Not a minute before. It is his little gift to her. To make her day perfect. And don't you breathe a word!"

By five o'clock Gwen came over, armed with her makeup case, hair rollers and blow dryers. Bethia came over and for the next hour they were washing and styling their hair, putting their hair in up-dos, down-dos, tendrils and curls. Gwen did each and every one of the girls' makeup. "Wow! Marthy said. "I never thought an Emmy-winning makeup artist would do my face. Hope I can remember how this went. Bess? We'll knock 'em dead!"
Bess agreed, her eyes shining. "Just as long as we don't outshine the bride!"
Bethia said, "Guess we carry our dresses over to the Chapel. They have a room to dress in."
Rosamond said, "That's right. There is NO WAY I am sitting in William's car with my gown. It's too..well, it's just 'too'!" Bethia said, "When do we get to see the gown, Rose?"
"When I walk down the aisle. I am having just El and Celeste help me into it. I want to make a big splash. Oh, girls! Pinch me! Is it really happening? Am I really marrying John today?"
Little Sally tugged on Rosamond's robe. "Miss Rose? Don't you know who you are marrying?"
And everyone laughed.
Over at Roger's house, John was pacing back and forth. "Roger? Can you go over there and see how things are going? Make sure everyone is all right?"
"No, John, I will not. Everything is fine. Everything will be OK."
John paced some more. "I won't be secure until I have that ring on Rosamond's finger and she signs the marriage license. I'm going to hold my breath when the minister says, 'Does any one know-yadayadayada?'"


THE HOME OF "CHEERS"...........by Coralynn

The Captain comes on the speaker again, this time saying, "We are now making our final descent into Logan Airport. Since this is an International Flight, please proceed to Customs. Have your declaration of purchases made out. Be sure your passport is easily retrieved. We hope you've enjoyed your flight, and will fly American on subsequent flights. It has been our pleasure to serve you."

"Oh yeah, it's been a pleasure, all right!" BB says aloud. He wonders if buying two lousy books in Geneva constitutes making purchases in a foreign country, and decides to declare them just so they don't think he's lying about not buying anything.
He looks out the window and smiles. Ahhhhh, back in the U.S. of A. At last!! But, not in the city I'd planned to land in. It can't be much longer, though. How long can fog hold out in New York anyway? The sun is bound to burn it off soon and then they'll be on their way home.

The landing is smooth. He deplanes and follows the others to Customs. Since he's not at the back of the line this time, it takes only 20 minutes to reach the counter and be checked through. He slaps his passport down on the desk, smiling at the customs worker. "Good to be home!" he says in a friendly voice.
The worker does not respond in kind, but looks at a screen on his computer and tells BB, "You've been put on a list of suspected terrorists, so will you follow the Officer to the room over there?"
This is not a polite request: this is a demand, so BB follows the Officer to a small room in which another worker sits shuffling papers. He worker looks up, then at a page in front of him, and says, "Your name Mark Olson?"
"Yes."
"You're a farmer who lives in St. Paul, Minnesota?"
"Yes."
The worker's face clouds, "Listen, bud, there are no farms in St. Paul. Ever see the Mary Tyler Moore show? When she threw that beret into the air, what did you see behind her, city buildings or farmland?"
BB is beginning to wonder if there's a MTM conspiracy going on, but explains, "I have a farm and also an apartment in St. Paul." He is trying hard not to sound defensive.
"Ahhh, I get it, a little pad in the city for your affairs so that wifee-out-on-the-farm doesn't see you. I know quite a few guys who do that."
"No, sir, that is not why." It's getting harder and harder not to be defensive.
"Know why the people at the Milan Airport put you on this list?"
"I had my swiss army knife with me. I'd forgotten I had it with me. They took it."
"Ohhhh well, then, you're clear," the worker straightens the papers as if to say he's done.
BB gets up and walks to the door, "Thank you," he tells the worker, who is pouring himself a drink. Wouldn't mind a drink myself, he thinks, but I'd better keep tabs on the flight to NY.
He goes to the area in which his next flight should be leaving whenever the fog clears in NY. He sits for awhile, but sitting is what he's been doing for what seems like days now, so he walks up to the counter and asks the progress of the flight.
The person at the counter checks and says that the fog has only gotten heavier in New York City, and that the projected wait may be four or five hours. BB checks his watch. Too long! Gotta get there sooner!
He asks directions to the train station, then it hits him. His luggage! He returns to the counter and asks if his luggage will be forwarded to his home address. "If you put that address on your luggage tag, yes, but not unless the airline has lost it. If it's on another flight coming in, then NO."
BB tries to remember what name and address he put on his luggage tags. Oh no, it's the St. Paul address, the phony address. He put that so everything would match and his identity as Mark Olson would be solid. His face crumbles, "I might as well kiss that luggage goodbye!" he thinks, cursing himself for painting himself into a corner.

Clutching his carry-on, he leaves the airport and hails a taxi, and tells the driver to go to the train station.
"I just came back from there," the cabbie tells him, "Had a carful of people who said their flight to NYC was delayed and thought the train would be faster. You in the same boat?"
"Yes."
The cabbie clucks his tongue and heads for the train station.
When they get there, BB pays the cabbie and runs into the station. He sees long lines at most of the ticket windows. One doesn't seem to be quite as long, so he gets in that one. When he gets to the window he asks for a ticket to NYC.
The bored looking woman behind the window says, "Sold out. You'll have to wait for the next train."
"When does that leave?"
"12:06 PM."
Two hours to sit in the train station! Oh no! He buys a ticket anyway. If he rented a car, it wouldn't make up for the two hour delay. Driving can be the slowest method of transportation, especially on these freeways, especially anywhere in or around Boston! He decides to get a bite to eat, and wanders into a seedy restaurant. Oh well, beggers can't be choosers!
He asks for coffee "as stong as you can make it," and a hamburger with fries.
The waitress is just then making a fresh pot, and he urges her to make it double strong.
"HEY! Other people havta drink this stuff, too, buddy, I can't just make a whole pot to suit you!"
He is finally served his burger, which is close to being tasteless, and greasy limp fries. The coffee is so weak there's no 'coffee taste' to it, but he drinks it anyway. Maybe it would have been made stronger had he not requested it. That passive-agressive waitress has 'issues,' he concludes.
He eats, then wanders around looking for another paperback book to read on the train. Well, well, they sure have a large supply of bodice-ripper books! I'll get one of them; at least it'll be juicy and I can think of Rose and myself as the main characters. He buys two.
He's so engrossed in reading that he loses track of time. His consciousness returns to reality when he hears his train is boarding," last call for the train into Manhattan, leaving in 3 minutes."
Ohmygod! he runs for it. It's quite a ways out to where the trains are actually boarded, and when he reaches his, it's moving. He waves at it, hoping it will stop for him, then realizes that this is stupid; this isn't a Greyhound bus!!
Totally disgusted with himself, he makes the long walk back into the station, and up to the ticket window. The same woman is there working.
"I missed my train, can you exchange these tickets for ones for the next train to Grand Central in NY?"
She cracks her gum and says, "Shhhhhrr, it leaves at 3pm. Try not to miss this one!" she grins, showing a missing tooth in front.
"This is a horror movie!" BB tells himself, "I'm caught in the Twilight Zone where nothing is allowed to go right. Another three hours? My God, I won't get back to Chappaqua till about 5:30 or 6! That's cutting it awfully close. What time did Bobby Joe say that wedding started, was it 7 or 8??" he paces.
To describe the turmoil of the next three hours is more than the author is willing to put you through. Let us just say that BB mentally ran through everything that had happened since he'd begun this trip. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out if he had done some terrible thing and this was his Karma coming back to bite him.

This time he doesn't read, and is the first one to board the train to Grand Central. He sits and looks out a large but dusky colored window. "Why don't they do a better job of cleaning these?" he wonders.
As the train builds up speed and is on its way, BB tries to become intersted in what the people around him are doing and saying. Some college students are playing cards and arguing about the rules. The guy behind him is snoring. Two ladies in a seat across the aisle are laughing about some guy one of them is dating. He listens in.......good grief, do women actually talk like that about men? Has Rose ever talked about me like that to her friends? Probabaly. I've always suspected that Beth and Eleanor dislike me. Or disliked me. That's right, I'm dead for all they know. In just a few more hours, though.......


The train pulls into Grand Central. He looks at his watch. 5PM. That gives me plenty of time to rent a car and haul up to Chappaqua. He considers taking a commuter train, but at this time of day those things are packed, plus he needs a vehicle when he gets home. He can't even get out to the ranch without one. He hopes he can get a newer, luxury model. OK, OK, so it'll be rush hour traffic, he thinks, but those freeways move fast. No prob!!! He gets off the train, making sure he has his carry-on with him, his only piece of luggage now. Without time to waste, he asks a porter where the rental car counters are and is given the directions.
It's a long walk to the rental car counters. He stops first at Avis. Nothing available. He stops at Alamo. Nothing there either. He stops at Budget. Nope, nothing.
Good grief! he thinks, all I want is a car! Why is that so hard to do?
He sees a counter with the words RentAWreck above it. Surely you jest, he thinks, but it's the only one left, so he approaches the counter.
The bubbly young woman working there gushes, "Can I rent you a reliable used car, sir? They may not win any beauty contests, but they'll get you to your destination."
"What are these?" he asks, "Reguar rental car rejects?"
"You might say so," she still sounds cheerful. "What size car would you like to rent?"
"The biggest one you have, and the newest!" he tells her, hoping this is not a huge mistake.
"Ohhhhhhh," he face falls, "I thought we had that Lincoln Continental, but Tad says someone just rented it to go out to his beach house in the Hamptons. We do have a snappy little compact car for you, however. It's a KIA."
BB would have requested seeing the car first, but he can't spare the time, so he says he'll take it and pays and gets the keys.
It turns out to be sub-compact. He sits in the drivers seat, which is difficult, as he is too tall for the allowed space between the seat and the roof of the car, and his behind hurts from the rock-hard seat. He shakes his head, something he's been doing a lot the last day and a half, and starts it up.
Hunched over so that he can see out the window, which would be lower than his head were he to sit up straight, he pulls out of the rental place and onto the highway. He sees a sign for the Expressway and heads for it.
Soon he's tooling down the road feeling optimistic. He decides to turn on the radio, but the knob falls off in his hand. He thinks the windsheild could see a spritzing, so pulls a lever, which makes the radio antenna rise. Pulls another one that causes the signal indicators to flash. Give it up, Montgomery, he says to himself. Just get home!!

It's 5:30. The traffic is heavy, heavier than he'd expected. The car, that was going 80 mph now refuses to do so. He presses harder on the accelerator, but all the car will do is 60. Oh well, hopefully no one will run over me with their Hummer, he laughs.
But then the car decides that 45 is its top speed. This alarms BB. You don't want to be dogging along when everyone else is whizzing by.
Several cars come up behind him and blast their horns. One finally passes and the person in the passenger seat gives him the finger.
He's so tired he doesn't have the energy to get angry about that. He's more concerned about this blasted piece of junk he's driving. The car then slows to 35, and he smells something odd, something that almost smells like something is burning.
"Ohhh please don't be burning!" he asks the car.
Smoke barrels out from under the hood, which is so dark that BB pulls way off the highway and exits the car before it blows up, heaven forbid.
"Thank God I have my cell phone in the carry-on!" he looks at the paperwork he got from RentAWreck, and dials it.
"Hello, RentAWreck!"
"This is ummmm, Mark Olson. I just rented that Kia from you about 20 minutes ago. I'm north about 10 miles and the car is smoking...."
The overly cheerful lady he talked to before quips, "Now, now, it should know that's not good for it's health!" and laughs.
"Listen, lady! I need a replacement car, even if YOU have to drive up here and take me home in your own personal car! I rented that Kia in good faith. Now, what are you going to do about it?"
"Tad just came in. I'll ask him. Can you hold?"
"What else can I do?!"
He hears muffled voices, then she comes back on. "Tad said that someone just returned a Honda of some kind, I forget just what. He can drive it up to you.....is that OK?"
"It's the only game in town!" BB says, then gives her his exact location and mile marker.
After he clicks off he thinks, Hey, a Honda! Those usually don't go belly up on you! Bring it on!"
He looks at his watch. Ten before 6. Ooooo, come on, guys! This is cutting it too close for comfort!
It's 6:20 by the time Tad arrives with the Honda. Another guy has driven up with him, and after the papers are signed and keys turned over, and Tad phones for a wrecker, he and the guy head back to Manhattan.

BB sits in the Honda. Decent. This will get me home. He pulls back out into traffic and accelerates quickly. He zooms along for a mile or two, then hears the sound of a cop car. Must be for someone else. Look there, see that truck I just passed? That guy was speeding. Oh rats, it is me.
BB pulls over and when the Cop reaches the window to ask for the drivers license and registration, BB thinks he looks like a regular guy.
"Hi! I was speeding because my wife is about to marry another man, Officer, so you can see my dilemma!"
"If yer wife is gunna marry anudder man, she's doing.....uhhhh......biga....biga......what is that word?"
"Bigamy!"
"Yhea, yhea, that's it. So......here, take this ticket and mail in the fine or you'll have to appear in traffic court if you wanna challung it."
BB is disappointed in the Cop. He looked so friendly, too. He stuffs the ticket into the glove compartment, where, he decides is just where it's going to stay. Since Mark Olson doesn't exist, let him pay it! BB chuckles.
It's a lot more difficult to pull into traffic this time. In fact, after he does so because of the courtesy of one of the other drivers, the traffic becomes so slow, it almost halts, then does.
He pounds on the steering wheel and gets out. Another man is also out of his car, so BB walks over to him and asks, "What's the holdup?"
"This happens every so often! There must be an accident up ahead. We're stuck here till they clear it up. If it's a big mulit-car accident, this could take an hour or so."

BB looks at his watch. 7:10. He shudders. "I have to get to Chappaqua like.....an hour ago!" he tells the other driver.
"Tell me about it! My dinner is getting cold as we speak, as is my wife. I had a chance to work closer to home, but passed on it because it paid less, and every time I come dragging in at 8 PM she throws it in my face. This looks like another one of those chilly nights at our house!"
BB gets back in the Honda. Looks at his watch. 7:25. He whips out one of those romance novels and reads a few pages, then looks at his watch: 7:40. Reads some more, then looks: 7:55.
He wants to rant and rave and punch something, but can't think of anything to hit. With my luck, he thinks, if I hit something, this car will fall apart, too!

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