She wanted to be as prepared as possible.  She thought that that meant being in L.A., shaking off the last vestiges of her disappointment at her gallery’s closing, and studying the CAC as her starting day approached.  Tina had planned their trip to effectuate her different view as to how Bette should prepare.  Tina thought that a trip to unfamiliar places would help Bette let go of the past and fuel her creative juices for the next stage in her career. 

Tina had planned two additional stages to follow their stay in Beijing.  Tina wanted their trip to end at a luxurious tropical paradise, with their own villa, open to the sea, with white billowy curtains.  Bette chuckled to herself as she remembered how, every time Tina described this part of the trip, she kept mentioning the white billowy curtains. That part had not been finalized, though, since it depended on Bette’s decision about whether or not to take the third itinerary stop that Tina had planned.

Bette scutched a bit in her pod, trying to right herself without moving the blanket and breaking the connection Tina had established. Her movements caught the attention of a very vigilant flight attendant, who quickly showed up at Bette’s side asking if she needed anything.

Bette thought for a second, “A glass of cranberry juice and sparkling water, two thirds water and one-third cranberry.”

The attendant nodded and began to turn away.

Bette whispered to again catch the attendant’s attention, “Two glasses, please, and could you pass that bag to me?”  Bette pointed to the Bottega Veneta bag that rested against the pod in front of her.

Bag in had, Bette rummaged through its contents, noting each item and appreciating the thought that had gone into the assemblage.  She noted James’ thoroughness and some of Tina’s touches.  She pulled the electronic Cantonese/English translator from the bag—definitely a choice from the woman who lived day in and day out with her need to control.  She spent twenty minutes figuring out how it worked.  It had important phrases, among them ’I need an ambulance,”  “Please take me to hotel…,” and “Please dry clean my blouse.”  She managed to add a phrase to the translator that, she thought, said “Please do it exactly as I told you,” but she erased it, fearful of the results her fractured Cantonese might produce. Bette placed it back in the bag and pulled a gigantic book about Chinese art, which had several articles on the current art scene clipped inside.  Definitely James, who mist have badgered one or more experts to help him select the book and the articles.  Bette took a quick look at Tina before she settled in to read.