Chapter 28 Operation Butterfly

Chapter28 Operation Butterfly

The Mother of the Groom

The ruse was on. It was a sparkling September day, a snap in the air as if fall had decided to start that morning. Abigail

could feel a frisson of excitement and intrigue as she and Sarah awaited the arrival of the private jet. Inside were the Merry

Widows, Lloyd Chandra, and the corporate CEO stepson-in-law of Toots, a middle-aged man named Trey who spent the entire flight

grilling the group on their plans, adding his own commentary and strategy and saying things like “Flood the zone” and “Fish

where the fishes are.”

The Connecticut duo waited on the tarmac as they watched the plane land, like billionaires in a movie, an exhilarating experience.

Abigail sat in the passenger seat of the van that Sarah had commandeered from the coach of a club lacrosse team in Fair Harbor.

It wasn’t the luxury Mercedes coach that the Montecito contingent was accustomed to boarding on their travels, but it was

clean, odor-free, and stocked with kombucha and snacks.

Sarah was behind the wheel. The next destination was Manhattan, where the Merry Widows would stay for the weekend. Op eration Butterfly was underway, a multiborough plan that involved a mayor, an English lord, and the sculptor Isamu Noguchi, plus a cadre of wealthy widows from California, a handful of Daughters of the American Revolution from Connecticut, and the staff of the senior center—all in service of love.

The plan, conceived by the MOG and the MOB, was to lure Penny and Chase to the Noguchi Museum in Queens for a romantic tête-à-tête

that would lead to a reconciliation and then the restoration of the wedding date. Abigail and Alexa had picked the museum

in Queens on purpose, a symbolic offering of support for their new life together in a new place. Even if that place was Queens.

It was Toots who insisted the Widows be part of the plan, acting as shills to get Penny on board. Penny had been told that

this was a sanctioned MW Trip and that the group was on an art weekend in New York. Even though she was still ghosting her

mother, she agreed to accompany them to the museum for what she had been told was a private tour of the collection with dinner

afterward. (Penny couldn’t say no to Toots.)

Mayor Lynch, who concocted a fake fundraiser, would be the lure for Chase. He also secured the location but didn’t disclose

his methodology. (Abigail suspected a hefty donation but couldn’t verify.) The food, music, and visuals were in the hands

of the DAR and the team from the Black Rock Senior Center, whose skill set included the talents of a concert cellist, a floral

designer, an electrician, and a couple of competitive ballroom dancers. Abigail had drawn them into the planning, much to

their delight. Sarah and Lloyd would be on hand to act as servers. George would be the driver for the Connecticut crew, boasting

about his foresight in renting a minivan like he was a winning America’s Cup tactician.

The operation was risky and could backfire spectacularly. Alexa’s spotty and charged communication with Penny was distressing, but Toots had been in regular communication, ostensibly about a possible PR project for a nonprofit she funded. Her real goal was to assess Penny’s mental state, which Toots, not a doctor, assessed as “broken and down but not out.”

But it was scientist Lloyd who convinced Sarah, who convinced Abigail, that the relationship was salvageable. “He’s ready

to be vulnerable,” Lloyd had told Sarah, who told Abigail, who scoffed and admitted that she had to learn another level of

acceptance for the quirks of Gen Z cuspers. But for some reason, she trusted Lloyd. He was a man of science, and if he felt

like this was a worthwhile endeavor, then so it was. Broken and Down but Not Out, meet Ready to Be Vulnerable.

Honestly, the whole thing was so preposterous that it might be the most fun Abigail had ever had in her adult life, beating

out planting one thousand tulip bulbs in front of the Fair Hope Town Hall for the town’s three hundredth birthday. Was this

even more improbable than her junior year abroad in Florence and her romance with Arturo? Possibly. She looked at Sarah, who

was wearing one of the Operation Butterfly hats she had made for the weekend, and said, “Are we ready?”

“Hell, yeah,” Sarah roared. “LFG!”

“I don’t know what that means,” Abigail responded, wrenching the van’s door open and carefully maneuvering down to the ground

so she didn’t break anything.

Toots, Ming, Roxanne, Mitsy, and Frannie piled out of the plane wearing a compendium of high-priced fleece travel sets and

stylish European comfort sneakers, looking like a cadre of aging secret agents/spa-goers. They greeted the Blakeman women

with hugs and good wishes. Lloyd rolled out a minute later, waving goodbye to his new buddy Trey who climbed into a waiting

black Escalade. Then he planted a big kiss on Sarah’s lips.

“This is going to be so much fun. We’ve been rehearsing our parts on the plane ride,” Ming announced to a sea of nodding heads. “Oh, and Lloyd asked me to be on the board of his new company. It’s been a very productive trip already.” The Widows were raring to go.

Alexa followed, dressed in another of her seemingly endless supply of stunning silk ensembles because her mission was different

from the Widows’. She had to pay homage to Hizzoner. She double kissed Abigail. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. Are we

crazy?”

“Yes. I think we might be,” Abigail said as a black town car pulled up alongside the jet on the tarmac. “You look gorgeous.

Looks like your car is here. I guess the mayor wants you all to himself. Are you picking him up at the office on the way to

his place?”

“That’s the plan. Or, I should say, his plan. My plan is to confirm all the details and be in my hotel room by nine. Wish

me luck!” Not one person within earshot believed Alexa. Surely, the mayor was involved in this scheme for reasons that included

the dark-haired goddess who stood before them in elegant Athenian ready-to-wear.

“We want all the details,” Frannie bellowed.

“Every. Single. One,” Mitsy echoed, but at a lower volume.

Alexa slipped into the back of the car and waved to her crew. “See you tomorrow!”

Once Coach Sarah and Lloyd stopped making out, she instructed the Widows, “Load up, ladies! You, too, Lloyd!” Then she high-fived

all the women as they boarded the van. “Let’s remember, ladies, teamwork makes the dream work!”

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