The Wentworths Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Part One

  Chapter 1 - August “Gus” Wentworth and His Girlfriend Honey

  Chapter 2 - What Norman Thinks

  Chapter 3 - Judith’s Work is Never Done

  Chapter 4 - Rosa

  Chapter 5 - Norman’s World

  Chapter 6 - At Home with the Wentworth-Joneses

  Chapter 7 - The Secret World of Little Joey

  Chapter 8 - Conrad on Angela Simms

  Chapter 9 - Family Dinner (Norman’s Not Hungry)

  Chapter 10 - Norman Goes Back to His Room

  Chapter 11 - Who is Paul?

  Chapter 12 - Angela Takes a Ride

  Chapter 13 - Norman on His Big Brother

  Chapter 14 - Conrad Wentworth, Fully Intact Male

  Chapter 15 - Next Day: Judith Enjoys Her Morning

  Chapter 16 - Norman’s Day

  Chapter 17 - What is the Meaning of This?

  Chapter 18 - Norman Escapes from Judith and Goes to the Department Store

  Chapter 19 - Conrad Takes the Call

  Chapter 20 - Becky

  Chapter 21 - Elephants Don’t Forget and Neither Does Norman

  Chapter 22 - The Night: Becky Can’t Sleep Even With Two Sleeping Pills

  Chapter 23 - Next Morning: Paul Gets the Kids Up

  Chapter 24 - Norman’s Jamhoree

  Chapter 25 - Angela Sims—Owner and CEO of Happy Helpers Preschool

  Chapter 26 - What Now, Gus?

  Chapter 27 - More Introductions: The Belmonts

  Chapter 28 - Honey All Alone

  Chapter 29 - Norman’s Thoughts on Love

  Chapter 30 - Time to Pick up Kimmy

  Chapter 31 - Gus to the Rescue

  Chapter 32 - The Wentworths Take Maggie Haliburton to Dinner

  Chapter 33 - A Reflective Moment with Norman

  Chapter 34 - Paul Springs into Action

  Chapter 35 - Norman: Into the Wild

  Chapter 36 - Father and Number One Son

  Chapter 37 - Ask Miss Katie

  Chapter 38 - Miss Katie Says

  Chapter 39 - Group Dynamics

  Chapter 40 - Norman Wants to Play

  Chapter 41 - Highlights of the Wentworth-Jones’ Personality Lists

  Part Two

  Chapter 1 - Jack Belmont (Honey’s Ex)

  Chapter 2 - Norman on the Perfect Man

  Chapter 3 - Welcome Home, Jack

  Chapter 4 - Heart to Heart with Conrad

  Chapter 5 - If Wishes Were Fishes

  Chapter 6 - Norman on the Couch

  Chapter 7 - While Honey’s Hungover, Angela’s Making Headway

  Chapter 8 - Honey Carries On

  Chapter 9 - Norman is Not Going Back

  Chapter 10 - Monica and Joey One-on-One

  Chapter 11 - Just Paul and Becky

  Chapter 12 - When Lunch Doesn’t Sit Well

  Chapter 13 - Rosa Gets an Ear Full

  Chapter 14 - Paul and Becky Explore

  Chapter 15 - Assaualt on the Inner Sanctum

  Chapter 16 - What Does Norman Think?

  Chapter 17 - If You Wax It, He Will Come

  Chapter 18 - Wake Up, Jack

  Chapter 19 - Honey

  Chapter 20 - Norman Getting to Know Angela

  Chapter 21 - Knock, Knock

  Chapter 22 - It’s Time to Give Honey Her Break!

  Chapter 23 - Judith and August—A New Beginning

  Chapter 24 - The Itsy Bitsy Spider is a Brown Recluse

  Chapter 25 - 911

  Chapter 26 - Aftermath

  Chapter 27 - Breaking News

  Chapter 28 - Lay it to Rest

  Chapter 29 - Dearly Beloved

  Chapter 30 - Epilogue

  ALSO BY KATIE ARNOLDI

  Chemical Pink

  This edition first published in the United States in 2008 by

  The Overlook Press, Peter Mayer Publishers, Inc.

  New York

  NEW YORK:

  141 Wooster Street

  New York, NY 10012

  www.overlookpress.com

  Copyright © 2008 by Katie Arnoldi

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.

  Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available from the Library of Congress

  Book design and type formatting by Bernard Schleifer

  eISBN : 978-1-590-20630-0

  To my wonderful family

  (who are nothing like the Wentworths)

  and especially to

  Chuck, Ryland, and Natalie

  Meet the Wentworths

  They’re standing in a police station somewhere in Los Feliz. It’s three in the morning, cold and hostile. The fluorescent lights buzz. The guard on duty scribbles in a logbook and drinks his coffee. No one speaks. The mother clutches the father’s arm; the oldest son stands off to the right with his arms folded across his chest. The daughter leans in close to her mother while the son-in-law stands behind, patting his wife’s shoulder, wishing she would lean on him for support once in awhile. Judith and August Wentworth. Conrad Wentworth. Becky Wentworth-Jones. Paul Jones. Yes, WENTWORTH Wentworth. August is wearing a tie; Judith has on heels and one of her many elegant suits. Neither shows a hint of emotion. You have to know where to look if you want to gauge how they’re feeling. Check the mother’s hand. See how the tips of her nails are buried in the father’s arm so deep that you can’t even see her flawless French tip manicure? She’s holding on for dear life. Looks like it would hurt, doesn’t it?

  Conrad, the eldest child, sighs and checks his watch. They’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes. Five more and Conrad’s going to have to start pulling some strings. Don’t these people know who they’re dealing with? Obviously not and if something doesn’t happen soon . . . well, something better happen soon.

  Becky wears an outfit almost identical to her mother’s. Armani pant suit, gray instead of beige (he’s one of their favorite designers). She stands next to her mother and from the back, you probably couldn’t tell the two apart even though one is sixty-five and the other just thirty-nine. They have the same emaciated figure, the same perfectly straight hair, cut neatly at the chin. Becky is blond and while Judith has let some gray creep in you’d have to be standing pretty close to detect the difference in color. Judith and August are worried and a little scared, Becky is resentful. How dare she be called out in the middle of the night? She has a life of her own, you know. But Becky would be equally furious if they had left her out of this little crisis. She has an obsessive need to always be in the middle of things. Becky Wentworth-Jones, front and center. Drama is the wellspring of her life force.

  Paul puts his arm around his wife but she stiffens and pulls away. The stress. Poor Becky is very susceptible to stress. It is an unfortunate situation but really, if she could just relax, everyone would feel better. Paul tries to rub her shoulders, release some of that tension.

  “Knock it off, Paul.” Becky adjusts her hair and smoothes her trousers.

  Paul backs off. The sooner this whole thing is resolved, and he can get his wife home to bed, the better. Becky doesn’t do well on too little sleep.

  Here comes little brother Norman accompanied by a grim-faced policeman. At first glance you would swear that the Chanel suit he’s wearing was his mother’s e
xcept, of course, that he’s much bigger than she is. He probably stole one of hers and had it knocked off—the parents keep him on a pretty tight leash and Norman doesn’t have a lot of extra money to spend on clothes. He’s carrying the pumps in his left hand—thank God. There are few things more unsettling than to see your son or baby brother walking around in high heels. One finds one doesn’t know where to look when a young man like this is prancing around with his shaved legs stuffed in panty hose. The officer escorts Norman right up to the group then turns to go.

  Judith stares. With the foundation and the artful highlights at the cheekbones, Norman could pass as her butch younger sister. It really is quite remarkable. Unfortunately, he hasn’t completely wiped off his lipstick and there are red smears at the corners of his mouth. But his mascara is remarkably intact—must be waterproof. You’ve got to hand it to him; Norman knows his way around a make-up kit.

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” Conrad sticks his hands in his pockets and walks towards the exit then turns and rejoins the group. He finds it impossible to hold still in dicey situations like these. Hard to stand and be counted as part of a group like this—a family, his family—when one of the members is dressing up like Cinderella.

  Becky takes her mother’s hand and squeezes. Whether this is an act of support or a moment of need is unclear. Oh, the horror. Paul moves in to help but backs off when Becky bares her teeth.

  August is working very hard to control his breathing.

  Finally Judith says, “That’s my good purse.”

  “I’m sorry.” Norman starts unloading the purse. Careful Norm, don’t want the parents to see that compact with your engraved initials. And uh-oh, are those a pair of lacy crotchless panties? Don’t let Becky get a glimpse of those. Norman stuffs his belongings in the too-small pockets of the faux-Chanel jacket. One of the gold buttons is loose but now’s not the time to worry about these things.

  “Holy fucking shit.” Conrad’s off for another lap around the room.

  Norman snaps the purse shut. “I borrowed these clothes from my friend Carol for the costume party but she didn’t have a bag that matched.” He thrusts the bag towards Judith, his peace offering.

  “Costume party.” August likes to restate the facts whenever possible. It grounds him, gives a nice sense of control. These family crises tend to knock August off balance.

  “You know my friends Bill and Susan.” Norman’s picking up speed as if there’s a time limit on this explanation. “This is just the most ridiculous thing in the world.” They all feel that clock ticking. Norman rushes on. “It’s an annual thing. I thought it would be a hoot to dress as a woman.” Change of tone here. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  Now, Becky could point out that Bill and Susan live in Santa Monica, which is on the other side of town. (It would be far too cruel to announce that they are in fact in Europe until the 17th.) She could ask him why he was in the bushes with another man in the first place. But that’s not her job here. Her job is to stand by and act as a supportive witness to whatever story they come up with. Marvelous fiction that will allow everyone to return to their regular lives.

  Judith is staring at her empty purse. “What will my friends think?” she whispers to August then turns to Conrad, her eldest and brightest child, for the answer.

  “It’s covered, Mother.” Conrad clears his throat. “I’ve got people working on it right now. This whole thing will just go away. Never happened.”

  “But what if it doesn’t?” Judith’s beginning to get angry.

  August puts his arm around his wife and squeezes tight. No one wants to see her explode. Her self-serving rage can fill a room in an instant, making it extremely difficult to breathe. August will have to hold onto her for the rest of the night to keep those noxious tendencies in check. “No one is going to find out about this, Judith.”

  “Mom, don’t worry.” Norman’s attempt at being a man is seriously undermined by the pink lace bra strap that shows under his opened jacket. “It’s a trumped-up charge. Nothing to be concerned about.”

  Conrad leads the way and the family heads out into the night, Judith roped in by August, Norman tiptoeing over pebbles and bits of broken glass in the parking lot, and Becky and Paul bringing up the rear. They all follow Conrad back to their cars. It’s a quiet group now—Norm hasn’t really worked his magic yet. There are huge holes in this story but it’s three-fifteen, everybody’s tired and it’s cold. Paul hasn’t contributed much and he’s starting to feel a little left out. This group needs to be united.

  “Can you imagine what it must be like for those unfortunate transvestites,” Paul says. “They get this kind of abuse all the time.”

  Bingo. Everyone jumps on this. Yes, those poor people. Wouldn’t it be awful? What a terrible life. Norman, of course is the most vocal. August shakes his head at the injustice of the world. Becky pats her mother’s shoulder then gives Norman a little hug. Judith is still angry. She’d like to punish Norman for this, and every other outrage he has committed over the years, but she’s exhausted and so she plays along. Conrad doesn’t contribute to the healing process but he doesn’t interrupt either. And so the Wentworths come together here in the parking lot of the Los Feliz police station. They hug and kiss (except Conrad, who just shakes hands) and say good night. Judith and August climb into the back seat and sit staring out opposite windows while Norman slips behind the wheel of the Bentley. Becky climbs into her Jaguar and starts the engine as Paul gets in on the passenger side. Conrad speeds away. This will all be cleared up by morning, never to be spoken of again.

  If you ask Norman where he lives, he’ll tell you Bel Air. If you raise an eyebrow in appreciation of the neighborhood he’ll tell you he has an adorable little cottage off Copa De Oro that’s been in the family for years and years. Very New England, stone with a slate roof, built in the twenties. If you’re interested, he’ll go into great detail describing the climbing vines, the magnificent rose garden and the rock lined pool. Oh, it just sounds so wonderful and isn’t Norman nice. But, if you try for an invitation to Norm’s enchanted home, you’ll notice he suddenly becomes distant and cool. He’d rather meet you at the bar on Santa Monica Boulevard or the coffee shop in Westwood or better yet, if you’re a handsome young man, why not just meet at your place.

  Poor Norman, he’s embarrassed that at thirty-five he’s still living in his parents’ pool house and hasn’t yet decided on a career. Yes, he has his own entrance off the alley so he can come and go as he pleases. Yes, the housekeeper does all his cleaning and laundry (with the exception of his lingerie and fem-wear which he keeps hidden and locked in the trunk under his bed.) Yes, his meals are free and, if he’s nice to the staff, they’re often served in his room. But with mother lurking around, looking in windows and often bursting through the door unannounced, he can hardly afford to entertain at home.

  No, it’s not an ideal situation for single young Norman but at this point there aren’t a lot of options since his trust fund won’t kick in until his parents decide he’s ready. And so off they go, Mommy, Daddy and Normy, back to his childhood home and a good night’s sleep while Becky and Paul drive home to their children and Conrad heads off to one of his after-hours club where he can blow off some steam.

  The Wentworth Family—A Proper Introduction

  When at home, AUGUST ELLIOT WENTWORTH spends his time locked away in his vast yet comfortable office. His den. His lair. This is a place where he can be himself and shed the uncomfortable facade of family man, a place where August becomes “Gus.” It is a masculine room with a wet bar, humidor and wild game—stuffed and displayed on the walls. Women-folk are not welcome here. There is a coffee table fashioned from antelope hooves that sits upon a zebra skin rug. A prized pair of elephant tusks is mounted behind the desk and four elephant’s feet, severed just below the knee joint, serve as lamp stands and sit at the ends of the long ostrich skin sofas. Here and there are pictures of Gus on safari, gun in hand, triumphant smile on his face as yet anot
her of God’s creatures lays dying at his feet.

  August is a big man, tall and wide with damp meaty hands and a thick neck. He tells people he played football in college, a lie in which his wife Judith firmly believes, but he does look like an aging athlete gone soft through the middle. He drinks and eats excessively and spends his time in an exhausting pursuit of pleasure. August loves women. He loves they way they smell, the way they taste. Nothing better than undressing a little cutie for the first time. Each one is different but they’re all so warm and sweet, like little biscuits fresh out of the oven. Women make him feel like he’s going to live forever, especially the young ones.

  JUDITH WENTWORTH spends more time looking in the mirror than she does communicating with the world around her. She analyzes, she studies, she improves. Behold, Judith Wentworth, bone thin and chic in her Chanel suit and her perfect hair and make-up. Make no mistake about it, appearance is everything. Follow Judith down the street and watch her seek out the reflective surfaces of the storefronts and the car windows. Watch her pause and admire what God, and the plastic surgeon, have given her. Not a single line on that sixty-five-year-old face, no nasty sunspots to mar her perfect complexion. Judith Wentworth, size 2 American, 32 French, 36 Italian.

  Judith (never Judy) has been married to August for forty-five years. Yes, it has been a successful marriage, not romantic, and perhaps not particularly warm, but solid. If you asked Judith about loyalty, she’ll tell you it is the most important ingredient in a marriage. She’ll assure you that August has been a good and faithful husband. There was a time, early in the marriage, before Judith had developed her ability to shape the world according to her own specifications, when August’s extramarital activities invaded her every waking moment. His constant affairs almost killed her and, in fact, she did contemplate suicide. But that was years ago in another age and she has completely forgotten about it now. It simply never happened. She’s married to a wonderful man and they share a wonderful life.