Arch Finley was drawn to her because she was wild.  Well, that’s not true, if we’re being completely honest.  He was drawn to her because she was Lucinda’s roommate in college and he was drawn to Lucinda.  When it became obvious that Lucinda was not ever going to reciprocate his feelings of love, or lust anyway, he settled on Madge.

Madge saw him as her ticket out of Fort Stockton.  The end of a fraternity party found her in his room upstairs at the Aye Phelta Thi fraternity house where there had apparently been a  ménage a trois involving Arch, Madge, and Jack Daniels that left two out of the three wondering just what had taken place.  The confusion was cleared up four weeks later.  Arch and Madge walked down the aisle in a hastily planned ceremony before just a few friends and family two weeks after that.

That had been in November of 1954. By the time 1960 rolled around, the Finley brood totaled five progeny, a testament to the fact that Fort Stockton did not yet have cable TV and Madge’s ample birthing hips. “She was just born to have kids,” Arch would tell friends. Maybe so, but when The Pill became available that same year and she no longer had to rely on the rhythm method, her purpose in life quickly shifted.

Of course, any partnership forged with bad decisions bathed in alcohol does not generally stand the test of time.  A promotion at the bank killed any chance of Madge talking her husband into leaving Fort Stockton.  Over a few beers at The Lucky Lady Lounge one Saturday night, Madge confessed to Lucinda, “I may be going berserk.  Between five kids, the beast of a man that fathered them, and this god forsaken hole-in-the-wall town I’m doomed to live out my days in, I may just lose it.”

“At least you got a new car out of it,” Lucinda replied.  “I saw you pull up in that brand new Chrysler Town & Country.  Arch is wanting to be sure you have only the best!”

“The only thing Arch wants to be sure of is that I have a car big enough to haul all the curtain climbers with me everywhere I go so he doesn’t have to pay for a babysitter, or heaven forbid, have my mother come watch them.  The thing seats eight.  Swear to god if I forget a pill one time, there’ll be a butt in every one of those seats.”

Lucinda took a minute to count her blessings before she replied.  “Well, at least it’s a nice car.”

“I guess,” Madge said.  “The instrument panel lights up like a jukebox at night.  And the air conditioner keeps us cool.  In the front seat, anyway.  Little Timmy in the back doesn’t get enough circulation to keep from blowing chunks if we go any further than the Piggly Wiggly.  After the second time he hurled his breakfast, Arch had the whole thing covered in clear plastic.  In August it makes my thighs stick together.”  Lucinda couldn’t help but snicker.  “I know, right?  Wish they would have stuck together in college.  Oh well.”

“It’s more clear to me than the steering wheel on your wagon exactly what you need,” Lucinda told her friend.  “A road trip.”

Madge glanced at her with a look that was somewhere between despair and disbelief.  “You’re right!  I can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself!  Get some of the gals from college together and head to Vegas.  Leave the rugrats with Arch.  His mother can come up from Marfa to help out.  Load up the Chrysler with a week’s worth of clothes and two weeks worth of alcohol.  Get that wagon out of Town and into the Country!”

That was not at all what Lucinda had intended. But she could see there was no reason to clarify her suggestion at this point. She hadn’t seen Madge this giddy since the epidural took effect with kid number three. A trip to Nevada with the old gang might just do her good. Put some road miles on the Chrysler and then boomerang back to Texas, just like those tail lights, with a new sense of purpose and a revived will to live.

Fast forward four weeks.

The trip was quickly thrown together, every one of the old college friends said ‘yes’ before Madge even finished describing what she had in mind. Madge had called Arch’s mother and bought her a bus ticket to Fort Stockton before even mentioning the trip to Arch. Bottles of Jack Daniels and Tanqueray Gin had been purchased and hidden in luggage, under the seats, and in the under-floor storage compartment of the Chrysler.

Madge, Lucinda, and three of their best friends from college met up at The Grounds for Divorce Friday morning at 8:00, left all their cars, but the Town & Country, of course, in the parking lot and drove straight through for damn near 22 hours to get to Las Vegas.  By the time they pulled into the Stardust, they’d agreed to check-in, shower, and get the party started.  Right after they found a liquor store to restock.  The inside of the Chrysler smelled like the cross between a saloon and a smokehouse chimney; Timmy’s vomit was no longer even perceptible.

“Let’s gamble till 10:00, then meet for the show,” Madge said over her shoulder as she headed towards the slots.  The gals fanned out.  Trish sashayed over to the blackjack tables, Lucinda to the roulette wheel, Daisy towards the baccarat area and Casandra took a chair at the craps table.  At 10:00 they met in front of the entrance to the show featuring Danny Thomas and counted their winnings.  They were up over a grand.  “I ran into Sammy Davis Jr. in the lobby,” Madge said.  “He kept winking at me.  He invited us up to his suite after the show.”

By Sunday, they were up over five thousand dollars and two of the gals had keys to Sammy’s suite, so they could freshen up whenever they needed to.  Over the complimentary buffet in the High-Roller’s Suite, Lucinda asked Madge if she should call and check in with Arch.  “Who?” Madge asked.

The group spent some time out by the pool on Tuesday before hitting the floor again that night. Well, all of them but Madge. The next time they saw Madge she was covered in nothing but a feather boa, high-stepping across the stage behind Joey Bishop while Dean Martin crooned some of his all-time hits to a sold out crowd at the Sands. She waved to her friends out in the audience. And Sammy.

On Wednesday, they lost the Chrysler to some men who Madge had borrowed money from when she was on a hot streak, and then she wasn’t. They gave her trade in value, or said they did, anyway. Luckily, she was able to turn that thirty-two hundred into over twelve thousand with one roll of the dice on the craps table. She bought back the Chrysler, but had to give retail, a valuable lesson in finance that was never covered in Economics 101.

When she and Daisy went to reclaim the wagon from the parking lot behind Caeser’s Palace, it got awkward when they opened the door and found Lucinda and Peter Lawford in a compromising position with the backseat folded down flat.  “I had those chrome strips burned into my backend for that entire summer,” Lucinda laughed when they’d talk about it years later.

They all took turns sleeping while one drove all the way back to Fort Stockton on Friday.  None of them ever really said much to anyone else about the trip.  When Arch asked her how it went, Madge just said, “Oh, fine.”

Arch had a vasectomy scheduled as soon as he could get in, after spending a week with the kids.  His mother cancelled plans to come back and stay for two weeks at Christmas, just sending a card and a fruit cake instead.  Arch never understood how the white feathers got under the clear plastic covers of the seats.  Madge chalked it up to a school project little Larry had done.

A year later the gals all got together again, but it was just a one-night get together.  They met for dinner at the K-Bob’s, went to the Lucky Lady Lounge for a few drinks, then piled into the Chrysler and drove out to the Prairie View Drive-In to see Ocean’s 11.

It was bittersweet.