“Yes,” said Abby, “I’m ashamed to admit that I did. But I stewed about it all day after I found out what was going on. I didn’t know what to do.” She paused, staring out the window in front of her. Nick watched her purse her lips in pain. “I even thought about just letting it go, going along with it, giving in,” she continued in a small voice. “But only for a moment. That moment of weakness made me ashamed and angry and when we were all seated at the table, the hypocrisy of the situation just sickened me…everyone making idle conversation…chat, chat, chat…”
“You should have thrown some food at your parents, too,” said Nick.
“Well, Daddy got a wineglass shattered on the wall behind his head, but I stormed out before I did anything to my mother…although the entire incident was almost enough to shock her into a coronary. She’s a terrible snob about proper behavior and…well, she’s a snob about everything.”
They drove in silence for awhile, both reflecting on their parents.
“You know what I think, Abby,” said Nick. “You know how you said that I would make the perfect boyfriend for you because I didn’t live in Chicago?”
“Yessss,” said Abby slowly.
“Well, I think you’d make the perfect girlfriend for me for the same reason…because I don’t live in Chicago.”
“What?” Abby stole a swift sideways glance at him. He was smiling, but he didn’t look like he was kidding.
“Yeah. I need to have a girlfriend. I get asked in every interview about it…am I seeing someone? Blah, blah, blah. They make such a big deal out of it. What’s wrong with me? Am I gay? This way, I could tell them that I’m seeing someone who’s not in show business and please respect our privacy and that will be it.”
“Have you lost your mind completely?” asked Abby.
“No, no, hear me out,” said Nick, warming to the idea. “You could tell your parents that we met at the Lodge, which is true, and that we are dating, but I’m on the road or something…”
“Oh yeah, they’d believe that,” said Abby sarcastically. “A rock star on the road. Sure, Abby, we believe you.”
“Well, I could send you letters or postcards or something…or email. Yeah, email! That’s it! We can email each other.” Nick smiled in satisfaction.
Abby was dumbfounded. Surely, he wasn’t serious. The idea was ludicrous.
“Uh, Nick, someone would find out eventually who I was. You couldn’t keep it a secret forever. Then what?”
“Then nothing. So what?”
“Oh, come on, no one is going to believe that you are dating me.”
“Why not? Do you think you are too good for me? That I could never get a girl with class, a socialite or whatever you are?”
“Give your head a shake, Nick,” said Abby. “You could get anyone you wanted. It’s the other way around.”
“What do you mean?” he said.
“Are you really going to make me say it?” Abby retorted, with a tinge of anger in her voice. “Fine, then I’ll say it. No one would believe that a gorgeous man like you would be interested in a Plain Jane like me.”
“Well, now I’m insulted,” said Nick, after a moment.
“What?! YOU’RE insulted?!”
“So you’re saying that I’m so shallow that I have to have a girlfriend who is beautiful…on the outside…physically…?”
“Had any that weren’t?”
That stopped him. His many misadventures in the romantic arena had all had one thing in common. They were gorgeous. Nick had never gone out with a girl who didn’t generate the comment, “Wow! You guys will have beautiful children.”
“So?” said Nick, in desperation. “None of them have worked out. Maybe it’s time for a change.” And then the full import of what he had just said sank in. He lowered his head. Aw, shit!
But Abby surprised him. She burst out laughing. “You’re a funny guy, Nick. I like you. I had a good time with you this week. You saved me and I think maybe in a little, tiny way, I saved you too.”
“Not so tiny,” said Nick, softly.
There were a few moments of silence. Then Abby sighed. “But now, if you don’t mind, get the hell out of my life.”
“Okay,” laughed Nick. “I will. But I insist on taking your email address with me. You have an email address, right? Society babes know how to use a computer, right?”
“Bite your tongue, Popstar! Of course, we do! How do you think we arrange all those fundraisers for the Art Institute and the Symphony? Besides, my kids taught me.”
“What kids?”
“I volunteer in a class of hearing-impaired children. They’re all whizzes on the computer.”
They changed the subject then and started talking about computers…and email…and the perils of being well-known.
“I have to change my email address every month or so,” said Nick. “I don’t know how it happens. I think only a few friends have it and then it gets put out there and then…” He exhaled loudly, “…the mail comes flooding in.”
“Oh stars alive, and he’s in my car!” said Abby in a fluttering Southern Belle voice.
“Shut up!” said Nick, laughing.
“You shut up, Rock Star!” retaliated Abby, laughing and thinking that it had been a long time since she had had such a fun drive.
They continued joking and talking until they neared Chicago. Traffic was heavy and Abby drove like she was the only one on the road. She wasn’t unsafe, but she was daring. She changed lanes constantly, always signaling first. Nick sat silent, staring out the window in front of him.
“Relax,” she said at one point. “I know how to drive in this city.”
“I am relaxed,” he said, but the final syllable ended in a squeak, as the car veered around the back end of a semi, barely missing the bumper.
Nick began seeing signs for the airport and his stomach started doing weird things. He felt tense and nervous and he wasn’t sure why. He wanted to say a proper goodbye to her, but he didn’t want her to come into the airport with him. That would be way too awkward. But would it be proper to just say, Thanks for everything, drop me at the curb, see ya!
Abby was having the same thoughts. “Do you mind if I just drop you at the curb, Nick? Parking here is a nightmare!”
“That would be fine. This was so great of you, Abby, to drive me here. It was fun.”
“Yes, it was, wasn’t it? Okay, here we are.”
Nick climbed out and got his suitcase and guitar out of the back. He stuck his head back in the door. “Take care of yourself, Abby,” he said. “You’re good people.”
“So are you, Nick,” said Abby. “Now go make some music.”
Nick nodded and closed the door. He stood on the curb and watched her drive out of sight. Then he walked into the airport and turned his thoughts to the future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby drove through the familiar streets of Oak Park, giving herself a pep talk. You can do this. You can do this. You must do this. You must be Abby. You can’t go back to being Abigail. Abigail is a loser, who doesn’t believe in herself. Not much wonder no one else does either. Abby’s not a loser. She’s fun to be with…just ask your local recording artist, if you don’t believe me! Abby laughed to herself and pulled into the driveway.
She stopped at the front door and got out her suitcase. She unlocked the door and stepped into the hall. She inhaled the scent of lemon furniture polish. Yes, she was home. A knot began forming in her stomach.
“Miss Abigail, how are you?” Mrs. Smith appeared in the doorway of the living room.
“I’m fine, Mrs. Smith. I’m just going to drop my bag here and put the car in the garage.”
“Yes, Miss. I’ll take it up to your room for you.”
“Don’t be silly, Mrs. Smith. I’m perfectly capable of lifting a suitcase.”
“Whatever you say, Miss Abigail. I like your hat, by the way.”
Abby reached a hand self-consciously to her head. “Thanks,” she said. “A friend of mine got it for me.” She turned to the door and then stopped. “Mrs. Smith?” she said, turning back. “Do you think you could call me Abby?”
“Miss Abby,” said the housekeeper, testing the words on her tongue.
“No, not Miss Abby…just Abby.”
Mrs. Smith’s eyes widened and she stole a glance over her shoulder. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t think Mrs. Fremont would like that,” she said.
Abby leaned into her and whispered as well. “There are going to be quite a few changes around here that Mrs. Fremont isn’t going to like. But she’s just going to have to suck it up and get used to it.”
“Oh my,” said Mrs. Smith.
They heard footsteps on the landing. “Is someone there, Mrs. Smith?”
“It’s Miss Abigail. She’s just gone to put her car away.”
Abby winked at Mrs. Smith and slipped silently out the door. Mrs. Smith stood in the foyer and looked around. Things were certainly going to get interesting in this house.
