She had been waiting a long time to have this event…her first supper alone with Nick in their home. She’d dithered over the menu before deciding finally on a simple roast beef and vegetables dinner. She’d thought long and hard about the seating arrangement. She didn’t want it to be too formal, with them at opposite ends of the table. She wanted it to be…wifely. She chuckled at herself. She’d been feeling ‘wifely’ all day and it had spread such a sense of warmth and satisfaction through her that she was almost floating.
After the taping, the guys had returned to rehearsal and costume fittings. Abby had gone to the hospital for an hour or so to read to the kids and then shopped on the way home. She had picked out every item in the supermarket with a smile of contentment, although she was sure it must have looked like an idiotic grin to other people. It took her forever to choose the perfect salad ingredients.
She hummed to herself while she prepared the meal, enjoying each task because she was doing it for her husband. Never had tomatoes been sliced with such care and affection; never had carrots been so lovingly peeled.
Abby prepared herself just as carefully and nearly drove herself crazy agonizing over wardrobe. For the taping, Nick had worn beige dress pants and a cream linen jacket. Under it he’d worn a sky blue shirt, open at the neck. He might want to change out of that, unless he already had. Abby had worn a dress to the taping, but she didn’t want to stay in that.
Abby also gave a thought to how easy it would be to get out of the clothes. She didn’t want a lot of buckles and buttons. She laughed to herself and considered wearing the navy satin number from her wedding night. That would certainly spell out her intentions. Be kind of a shame to waste dinner though, after all her preparations. And she wasn’t sure it wouldn’t frighten Nick. Maybe with a rose in her teeth. Her silly thoughts stopped abruptly on the word ‘rose’.
No roses.
Rose Cottage.
It was a year ago to the week that she had met Nick. That meant it was a year ago that Ronni had hurt him terribly. Abby wondered if he was over that yet. She didn’t know if she should ask him if he wanted to talk about it or just let it go. She knew that her own history with Ronni would color any comment she made, any opinion that she had.
She thought about the emails he’d exchanged with Ronni. She wondered if that was why he’d been so different the last half of May. And she wondered if it was because he felt guilty about it. He hadn’t mentioned it to her…hadn’t said, by the way, Ronni emailed me with a beverage question…
Abby paused. She stared at a point on the wall and furrowed her brow in thought. How had Ronni gotten his address anyway? He’d changed it a couple of times in the last year. Had he written to her first?
Stop it right now, Abby told herself. It doesn’t matter. You are not going to let her do this to you. You are not going to do this to yourself. You are not going to do this to Nick.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Hi, Honey. I’m home.”
Nick had been looking forward to this evening as much as Abby…and for the same reasons. He wanted to play husband-and-wife. He wanted to spend the evening with no one else around…just the two of them…sitting in their own home, chatting about the day, having a nice home-cooked meal and then having sex.
Abby came into the hall. “Good evening, Dear,” she said with a silly smile. “How was your day at the office?”
Nick laughed. “Oh, the usual. Work your fingers to the bone.” He locked the door and tossed his keys in the basket on the table. He wished he had a briefcase.
“You’ll want a nice, hot supper then,” said Abby. “We’re having roast beef.”
“Yum. Sounds good. But first I’d like to have a shower if that’s okay.” There was sex in his future and he wanted to be ready for it.
“Of course, it’s okay.” Abby knew they had to get out of the hall before the situation became stilted and embarrassing. She turned her back and walked away. “Want me to wash your back?” she threw over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
“Mmmm,” murmured Nick. “That sounds like a good idea, but…you went to so much trouble with dinner and all…” He flashed her a sexy grin.
Abby laughed. “You get in the shower. I’ll get the veggies on to cook.”
Abby went into the kitchen and made final preparations. Then she went into the bedroom. She could hear the shower running. She hung Nick’s jacket in the closet and picked up the rest of his clothes from the floor. She put them in the laundry basket. Maybe she’d run a load while they were eating dinner. A thrill ran through her. Now that was wifely!
She carried the basket up the hall to the laundry room, which was off the kitchen. She wouldn’t start the machine until Nick was out of the shower. She didn’t know if this was one of those places where you couldn’t have a shower and flush the toilet at the same time. She’d been the only one living here. She used the facilities one a time. She didn’t think she wanted to put it to the test, though, by turning on the washing machine while Nick was in the shower. She could put the clothes in, though, and then she’d just have to turn it on. She picked up his shirt. She held it up to her nose and breathed him in. She loved the smell of him, even sweaty. The smile left her face abruptly and she dropped the shirt like it had burned her.
Ronni’s perfume.
Ronni’s perfume was on her husband’s shirt.
No, Abby corrected herself, in an effort to make her stomach settle so that she wouldn’t throw up in the laundry tub. No, someone’s perfume is on Nick’s shirt. Ronni is not the only person who wears that kind of perfume. Lots of people do. And Nick hugs lots of people in the course of a day. So don’t go jumping to any foolish conclusions.
‘Hey, there! Whatcha doin’?”
Abby turned quickly, startled by Nick’s silent approach. “Wifey stuff,” she said with a grin. He was wearing loose fitting jeans and a t-shirt that said ‘LCN’. Abby had no idea what it meant. She turned back and put the rest of the clothes in the washer.
Nick laughed. Wifey stuff. He knew exactly what she meant. “I want to do some husband stuff,” he said. “Like mow the lawn or rake the leaves or something.”
Abby started the machine and turned to face her husband. “Repeat after me, con…do… min… ium…”
Nick pretended to pout.
“Cheer up, Honey,” said Abby, “maybe later you can take out the garbage.”
“Or maybe,” said Nick, pulling her into his arms, “maybe later, I’ll find some other husbandly chore.”
Abby moaned as his lips touched hers. They kissed for a long time and were both rethinking their hunger status when the carrots boiled over. A hissing sound erupted from the kitchen. Abby tore out of the laundry room. She moved the pot off the stove element and turned the heat down. She wiped up the spilled water and then moved the pot back over the lower heat, tipping the lid to allow steam to escape.
“Wow!” Nick stood leaning on the doorframe of the laundry room. “You’re really good at this wife thing.” He’d enjoyed watching her efficient moves. “And by the way, the guys say ‘thanks’ again for last night.”
Abby laughed. “That makes an even three hundred ‘thank you’s then!”
She lifted the foil off the roast that was sitting on a board. She picked up the carving knife and fork. “Do you carve?” she asked carefully. She wasn’t sure this was a skill that one learned while on tour.
“Sure, my dad taught me.” He took the tools from her hands.
It was heaven. It was an exquisite little bubble of heaven. Nick carved the roast into smooth, even pieces while Abby made gravy at the stove. Nick carried the platter of meat into the dining room and opened a bottle of wine, while Abby served the vegetables into bowls. Together they carried the meal out and took their seats…Nick at the end of the table and Abby at the side on his right.
“This looks great,” said Nick, “so different from last night.” He was referring to the way Abby had made the end of the table look homey and just for the two of them, not just two people at the end of a big table. A small flower arrangement sectioned off their area of the table.
They ate and chatted about the day. They complimented each other on their performance on Oprah.
“I was so nervous,” said Abby. “I don’t ever want to do that again.”
“You didn’t seem nervous,” replied Nick. “You’re a natural. You should do all those shows for your books.”
Abby shuddered. “No, thank you. I don’t know how you do it all the time.”
“With sweaty palms and a block of ice in my stomach,” said Nick.
“Really? Still?”
“Oh yeah, I know they’re just waiting out there for me to say something stupid, so they can say, oh, there’s dumb Nick again.”
Abby opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “No point in denying it, we both know it’s true. And it’s like a vicious circle or something…you know…because I’m so afraid I’ll say something dumb, that I get more and more nervous and then I say it. I’m glad I didn’t do that today.” A look passed over Abby’s face. “Did I?” asked Nick.
“No, no, it was nothing,” she assured him.
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“It wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t even what you said. It was me. It was just…when you said…that you guys were doing this because I’d given money to your charities…”
“Yeah?” Nick didn’t see any problem.
“See, it wasn’t you. It was me. You know how I get about money and stuff… I just didn’t want people to think that I could arrange for this concert because I have money.”
“No way, Baby!” said Nick. “You were able to arrange it because you have me! All the money in the world wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t have me.” He grinned at her. She smiled back at him and passed the salad.
“So what did you do when you got to rehearsal?”
Nick described his day to her and Abby listened carefully. They’d worked on some songs. They’d run through them all now and had the arrangements finalized. Now it was just a matter of practice and polish.
“And we had the fittings…”
Abby grinned. The fittings were for white tie and tails. When those five men strode out onto that stage on Friday night, the cream of Chicago society was going to slide right out of their chairs and writhe on the floor.
“What?” asked Nick.
“You guys are going to look so hot in those outfits! The blue-hairs aren’t going to know what hit them. And the husbands are going to be truly confused by their wives’ behavior.”
Nick shrugged. He was used to it. And they had really noticed on this tour that the age demographic of their fans had gone up exponentially. Their fans had not only aged along with them. They had apparently spread the word to their mothers!
“So were there lots of fans? When you left?” asked Abby, tentatively. “You know, stage door kind of thing. Hugs and autographs…”
“There were a few,” said Nick. “But I got snuck out the back way. It doesn’t matter if the fans find the hotel where the guys are, but we’re hoping to keep this place a secret for awhile. They didn’t want anyone to follow me.”
Abby nodded. “Good plan.” She offered seconds. Nick took a tiny bit of everything and covered it with gravy.
“So…I guess it was pretty hectic,” said Abby, as she served a tiny helping of potato and gravy to herself so that Nick would not have to eat alone. “People bustling around backstage…gofers and all…” She wanted to say ‘committee people’ but knew that was too blatant.
Nick knew what she was asking. She was asking about Ronni. Yeah, Ronni had been there. But short of one conversation, where she had introduced a couple of committee members to the whole group, Nick had had no contact with her. It wasn’t worth mentioning, he figured.
“I was mostly with the musicians,” he said. “I didn’t really notice anyone else.” He set down his fork. “This was really good, Abby.”
Abby considered that Nick hadn’t answered the question. Or maybe he had. Get over it, she told herself. “I’m whipping up something special for dessert,” she said. “Literally. I have to go whip cream now. Do you want to watch? Or would you rather go in the living room or…” She was at a loss.
“Do you have any new stories I could read?”
