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Nick and Abby stayed in the back room so long it made their bodyguards nervous.  But there was no way in hell either Terence or Patrick was going to go knock on that door.  They figured the two were asleep; there hadn’t been any more noise.  But either way, they didn’t want to disturb them. 

At seven o’clock, the driver informed the two men that some of the buses were pulling over for dinner.  There was a good Italian restaurant at the next interchange.  Did they want to stop there or keep going?  Terence and Patrick looked at each other and then toward the back of the bus.

“Pull in there,” said Terence, making a decision, “but we won’t be getting off until Nick wakes up.”  Patrick nodded in agreement.  Good plan.

“Hey, guys, what time is it?”

They looked up to see a very disheveled Abby in front of them.  She was wearing the jeans and sweater from earlier, but she was barefoot.  Her hair was mussed up and she had a red streak across her face from where her pillowcase had been creased.  Her eyelids were heavy.

“Seven o’clock,” said Patrick.

Abby’s eyes snapped open.  “Seven o’clock?  My God, we were asleep for hours.”

”I guess your body just let you know what you needed,” said Terence, and then realized what he had said.  “I mean…”

“Yeah, and we were sleepy too,” said Abby with a grin.

The two bodyguards roared with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” asked Nick, appearing in the doorway behind Abby.

“We are,” said Abby.  “It’s seven o’clock, Nick.”

“Yeah?  Wow.  Man, I was tired.  I went out like a light.”  He bent over and looked out the bus window.  It was getting dark out.  He could see the vestiges of winter along the sides of the road, hard, dirty mounds of ice that used to be snowbanks.  “I guess we’re not in the Deep South anymore.”  He scratched his stomach and yawned.  “I’m hungry.  What about you guys?”

“Ah, yeah, we’re pulling off at the next interchange.  Tony says there’s a good restaurant there.  Some others are stopping too.”

“Good,” said Nick, straightening up and looking into the amused eyes of his friend and bodyguard. “What?”

“Well, I just thought you’d like to…maybe…freshen up a little.”

Abby was way ahead of him on that and had already disappeared into the bathroom.  She cleaned up and brushed her teeth.  She combed her hair and put on some makeup.  There was nothing she could do about the crease down her cheek, though.  Better than a bite mark on her neck, she guessed.

She opened the bathroom door and stepped into Nick.

“Hey, Baby,” he said, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.

“We are going to have a discussion about that word,” whispered Abby, caressing his cheek.

“You didn’t seem to mind it too much earlier,” he answered,  “Okay, okay,” he said, responding to the look in her eye.  He kissed her again and went past her into the bathroom.

Abby went into the back room and tidied up the bed, smoothing out the sheets and replacing the comforter.  She picked up Nick’s pillow and ran her hand over the pillowcase.  She held it to her nose and breathed him in.  She wondered if she could sneak the pillowcase or maybe one of his shirts into her luggage to take back to Chicago, so she could have his scent with her.  Tears pricked at her eyes suddenly.  Omigod, what was this?  Shouldn’t she be getting over all this emotion?

Suddenly, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized what this was.  PMS, that’s what it was.  She mentally checked the calendar.  Oh no!  She knew she wasn’t due to get her period for four more days.  Her little supply of pills told her that.  PMS was a hit and miss thing for her.  Sometimes she got it and sometimes she didn’t.  It all kinda depended on her mother, she thought. 

She did a mental inventory.  All the symptoms were there.  She was either going to be a quivering mass of emotions for the next 24 hours or the biggest bitch on the planet.  Or maybe just swing back and forth between the two.  And she didn’t have any choice about it.  Her hormones had taken control.

Some people said you could control the mood swings by meditation or by herbal tea.  People who’d never had it, of course.  Abby wanted to kill all those people.

“Hey, Babe,” said Nick from behind her.

“I thought I said…” she began curtly, then halted.  When she spoke again, her voice was softer.  “I mean…I thought we decided this back in Chicago…that if you were going to call me that, I would have to think up something for you.”

Nick slipped his arms around her and kissed her.  He had never been happier than this moment…this day.  “What have you got?” he asked, moving his face back from hers, but keeping her firmly in his embrace.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.  “I’ll have to try a few out over dinner.”  Pause.  “Muffin.”

“Oh, no.”  Nick put his head back and laughed, a gesture that made her want to devour his neck.  “Don’t do it, Abby.  I’m begging you.  These things have a way of sticking to you.  The guys will never let me forget it.”

“Okay,” she said sincerely, “I won’t…crumpet.”

“Aaarrrggghhh,” he groaned and laughed in the same breath.   “Omigod, I…”  He pulled her into his chest and held her there.  He had almost said something he shouldn’t.  Something he wasn’t supposed to be feeling.  Something she didn’t feel.  Oh, shit.

They swayed together as the bus turned into the parking lot.  “We’re here,” said Abby, “…croissant.”

Nick laughed.  “You seemed to have a baked goods kind of thing happening here.”

Abby laughed along with him.  “Come on...bagel…”   She shrugged her shoulders.  She was running out of ideas.  “Terence and Patrick are waiting.”

“The kaiser bun and the onion roll?” asked Nick, ingenuously.

Terence and Patrick didn’t know what the newlyweds found so hilarious, but they fell through the door into the living room in hysterics. 

Howie and Brian were seated in the restaurant, when they entered, their security guards at the next table. 

“Hi guys,” said Abby.  The two men stood up and hugged her, a move which brought tears to her eyes.  She blinked them back and told her hormones to behave, please, this was important.

“Just us, then?” she asked, when the waiter came over. 

“Yeah,” said Brian.  “Kevin just powers through on one of these trips.  When he gets close, he sets his eye on the destination and that’s all he sees.  He’ll defrost something from the freezer on his bus.”

“Yep,” said Howie, “and AJ will have had his bus pull off three times already for fast food… burgers and junk like that.  He doesn’t like this kind of place.”  Howie gestured around him at the linen tablecloths and the starched waiters.

“Because he can’t keep still that long,” murmured Abby to herself.  The rest of them looked at each other.  Yep.

They ordered big meals…pasta and salad and chicken Parmesan and veal Piccata.  They were all hungry and they knew that tomorrow their day would be out of whack, so getting a good solid meal in now was important.  They ate and laughed and drank red wine.  Nobody was driving and nobody was performing.  Well, maybe Nick, later…thought Brian.  Although, it kinda looked like he and Abby had already put in a hard day’s night…

“Do you have any herbal tea?” asked Abby, when the waiter came by to inquire about dessert.  None of them wanted any.  It was only Abby’s presence that stopped the men from loosening their belts and belching.  The waiter said that no, he was sorry, they didn’t.  “Good,” said Abby.  “I hate herbal tea.  What about Darjeeling?”  That they could do, said the waiter and went off to fetch it, along with coffee for the others.

“What’s the plan now?” she asked, possessed by a sudden need to know all the details.

The plan?  The men all looked at each other.

“We’re sleeping our way into New York, right?” she asked.  Not one man made eye contact with another.  They sensed the danger on the horizon.  They all just nodded instead.  “So, what time do you need to be up?  Good Morning America, right?  That starts at…six?  Seven?”  Abby didn’t watch much television, certainly not in the early morning. 

“Seven,” said Brian, “but we have to be there at five.  Makeup, rehearsal, all that…”

Abby nodded.  She looked sideways at Nick.  “You have an alarm clock, right…”  She was stuck for a word.  “…baguette?” she finished lamely.  Nick roared with laughter, even though he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Long, thin loaf of French bread,” she whispered in his ear and licked his lobe before settling back in her place.

“Not so thin,” he whispered back petulantly, causing Abby to laugh out loud.  The security guys stopped talking and looked at her.

“Sorry,” she said to Brian and Howie, who were looking embarrassed, mostly because they didn’t know what a baguette was.

Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears.  “I don’t how to do this,” she said, trying to blink them away.  “I am so NOT used to being with a bunch of guys.  Being the only girl with a bunch of guys.  I’m not a guy...”

Nick’s hand over her mouth shut her up.  She looked at him in gratitude.  He moved his hand away from her face and laced his fingers through hers.

“It’s okay,” said Howie.  “It’s been a crazy couple of days for you.”

“Yeah,” said Brian, “and it’s not a girl/guy thing either.  It took us a long time to get used to being together, you know, always in a group…”  His voice trailed off.  He wondered how she was going to stand up to the pressure in New York.

“You’ll be fine.  Don’t worry,” said Howie, wondering if that were true.  Maybe they’d better talk to Kev about this.  Maybe Abby should just stay on the bus in the morning and not go with them to the studio.  Wouldn’t the tabloids just love a picture of Nick’s bride in tears two days after the wedding?

“Yeah, Baby, it’s all good,” said Nick.  He could feel her stiffen at his use of the name.  She glared at him.  “Sorry,” he said.  The security guards looked away.  Brian and Howie squirmed in their seats.

Abby begged her hormones to release her from their grip before she scared these men to death.  “That’s okay, Cupcake,” she said, in a sexy voice.

Nick groaned.  She had found it.  Cupcake.  Omigod.  He’d never live it down.  He looked over at Brian and Howie, who were smirking.  Nick just shook his head.

The waiter returned with the credit card receipt and they all stood.  Nick motioned Abby ahead of him and Patrick fell into step with her.  Brian’s bodyguard was next, so Nick waved his friend ahead.  “No, that’s okay,” said Brian.  “After you…Cupcake.” 

Nick glared at him.  “How many times are you planning on saying it?” he asked.

Brian looked at Howie.  “I don’t know.  What do you think, D?  Forty, maybe fifty thousand.”

“Sounds about right,” laughed Howie.  “Oh, look, it’s raining.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” asked Abby, as they waited under the canopy for the buses to pull up. 

“It’s not so good for the drivers,” answered Nick, “but it’s good for us.  We all love sleeping with the sound of the rain on the roof.”

“Maybe it will wash away all that,” said Brian, pointing to the winter residue of dirt and ice.  “Maybe spring has sprung.”

Nick’s bus pulled up first.  They climbed aboard and drove off.  Abby waved out the window at Howie and Brian and their guards who were blowing kisses at the bus and yelling, “Goodnight, Cupcake!”

“I could turn you over my knee for that,” said Nick.

“You and whose army?” retorted Abby.  She did feel bad, though.  “I’m sorry,” she said.

Nick sat down on the sofa and picked up the remote.  “’S okay,” he said.  “I’ve been called worse. And they’ll get over it eventually.”  He patted the place beside him. 

Abby sat down.  “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin.  “You heard Brian.  Forty, maybe fifty thousand times and then it will be done.”  He slipped his arm around her.  “Let’s watch a movie and then turn in.  Five o’clock comes pretty early.”

“Okay,” she said, snuggling down against him, not minding that Terence and Patrick were there.  She guessed maybe she could get used to this.  She sighed.  Yeah, for a week and then it’s back to being on your own in Chicago.  Don’t think about it, she told herself.  It will be here soon enough.  Think about something else.  Think about today.  No, don’t go there or you’ll be blushing again.  Then think about tomorrow.  Yes, that’s it. Tomorrow.  In New York City.