“Well, I guess we’d better be heading out,” said Kevin. “It’s almost eight.”
Nick’s head snapped up. He looked around him in panic. Omigod, he’d never even thought. What if Abby came down for breakfast? His heart started pounding. He couldn’t do this in public. He had to get out of here. He stood up.
Terence was beside him in an instant. “Ready to get on the bus, Boss?”
Nick didn’t answer him, just headed for the door. Terence looked at Kevin. Kevin waved him away. Yeah, get him out of here.
When he was gone, the other four were silent for a moment. Then Brian said softly, “I remember how hard it was the first time.”
“It’s still hard,” murmured Kevin.
They were silent for another moment.
“Man, I am so glad I’m not Terence today,” said AJ in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Howie laughed. “Ain’t that the truth?”
“Hear, hear,” said Kevin, joining in the laughter.
“It’s gonna be a long, long day,” said Brian in his Donald Duck voice. The four men laughed.
Kevin stood up, “Well, let’s get this show on the road.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby’s show did not get on the road as smoothly as the boys. Maybe I need an entourage, she thought, as she cooled her heels at Logan Airport. Someone to look after the details, so she could just sail through. Maybe a personal assistant like Mary. Abby laughed to herself. Yeah, right.
Abby had met Mary when she’d visited Nick in California at New Year’s. She was a very nice woman and had been very kind, telling Abby that whatever she needed Mary to do, she would do, even when she was home in Chicago. Here’s my cell number, my fax, my email…
Abby had wondered at the look on Nick’s face, a combination of awe and surprise. He had explained later that Mary had hated Ronni and wouldn’t do anything for her. Abby had accepted that explanation and changed the subject. She didn’t want to talk about Ronni. Neither did Nick, so he’d been happy to move on to other topics.
Mary could have made things easier here, thought Abby. Of course, she would have had to have some warning before she could work her magic. The concierge had done pretty well, Abby guessed. She was on United Airlines Flight 531, departing Boston at 10:15 am, and arriving Chicago at noon. Abby had packed her things and headed for the airport. If there was waiting to be done, she’d rather do it within sight of the plane.
She thought she would have lots of time, but traffic was bad and she thought she might miss her flight. On the contrary, she found that the flight had been delayed on its incoming journey and she would have lots of time. The plane wouldn’t be leaving until after 11:00 and that would get her into O’Hare around one. She factored in luggage and car ride and figured she’d be at the apartment around two…assuming she could get a cab. This is where Mary would have come in handy, she thought. She could have arranged for a car.
Abby decided she’d better eat something now. She had no food at the apartment and she knew that the first thing she was going to have to do anyway was go and see her parents. She sat in the airport coffee shop, watching the travelers go back and forth, thinking she really should call her mother. She had some soup and a sandwich and was on her second cup of tea before she finished debating with herself and pulled out her cell phone. She got Mrs. Smith and informed her to set an extra place at dinner tonight. Miss Abigail would be home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nick climbed onto the bus and disappeared into his room at the back, closing the door. That was fine with Terence. He’d been with Nick for a long time; he even went with him on his two solo outings. He knew the young man pretty well. Nick wouldn’t be in there all day. He’d come out and dull his pain with a couple of hours at the video game controls. Barring any difficulties, they’d be at the hotel in Montreal by four o’clock. Tomorrow was a pretty full day of interviews, rehearsal, concert, etc., but there was nothing scheduled for tonight. Nick would either stay in his hotel room and drink himself into a stupor or go out and party hearty, but Terence figured there’d be alcohol involved to some extent.
Drowning his sorrows. That was what Nick did. But it seemed to work, mused the bodyguard. He hardly ever had a hangover and he always got up with a new attitude. Of course, this time he didn’t need a new attitude. This time, he wasn’t getting over someone dumping him, or having to dump her because she was using him. Terence hadn’t met the girl Nick had been with before Abby, but he knew there’d been one. He wondered who had ended it and how much alcohol it had taken to get her out of his system.
When Nick reappeared, he nodded at Terence and opened his laptop. He fiddled for a bit and then typed a few lines. Email, guessed Terence. Nick closed the computer and stood up.
“Terence, I want you to remind me every day to send an email to Abby,” he said.
What the…? Terence was dumbfounded. Nick needed to be reminded to send an email to his wife? And why not just phone her? Nick read the questions on the other man’s face.
“Um…you know how it gets on tour, shit starts happening and your life ain’t your own. I just don’t want to miss a day.”
“Okay, Boss,” said Terence, not sounding convinced. “You can always phone her if you miss one.”
“We’re not good on the phone,” said Nick. “And it’s hard to connect…you know, time zones and concert schedules and shit like that.”
“Okay,” said Terence. “I’ll remind you.” Then he grinned. “And we pass through Chicago in six weeks.”
Nick smiled. “Yeah…yeah, we do.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hey, Abby!
I’m on the bus to Montreal. You are probably in the air right now. Consider this your welcome home email. I know you moved your computer over to the apartment, so I guess that means you’re all moved out of the house. But are you going to see your parents tonight…maybe stay with them? You won’t have any food in the apartment, will you? I guess you could phone out for a pizza or something.
I guess I should stop babbling. You’ll know what to do. You don’t need me to take care of you.
Thanks for coming on tour with me. I’m glad you got to know the fellas and they got to know you.
Your husband (I like saying that)
Nick
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby read the email and smiled. She had gone to the apartment from the airport, but she hadn’t checked her email. She’d grabbed her car keys and headed for the grocery store. She stocked up on staple items and some fresh fruit and vegetables. She put it all away and then straightened a cushion here and a plant there. She realized that she was just putting in time, not wanting to face her mother until her father was there too. Finally, she plucked up her courage and headed out.
Mrs. Smith answered the door and threw her arms around Abby. “Oh, Miss Abigail, I’m so happy for you,” she said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith,” said Abby sincerely. “I’m very happy.”
“Come in, come in,” said the housekeeper, letting her go. “Your mother is in the living room. She’s expecting you.”
“Where’s Daddy?” whispered Abby.
“He’s there too,” nodded Mrs. Smith, giving Abby a reassuring pat on the hand.
Abby entered the living room. She stopped inside the door and looked around. Nothing was changed and yet everything was changed. Daddy was mixing drinks at the bar cart near the fireplace. Mother was in her chair. At least, Abby assumed she was. The big wingback chair didn’t face the door. Abby felt her knees getting weak.
Snap out of it! she told herself. You’re a married woman now. You’re not meek little Abigail Fremont, bowing to your mother’s will at every turn. You’re a grown-up, an adult, a married woman.
“Hello Mother…Daddy,” she said, and wished her voice didn’t sound like a twelve year old’s who’d just been caught sneaking cookies.
John Fremont turned from where he was standing at the fireplace. Sharon stood up from her chair. The three remained frozen in a tableau for several very long moments. Abby waited for her father to move, and was surprised that it was her mother who came toward her with her arms outstretched. Abby stepped into them and her mother hugged her tightly. “Congratulations,” whispered Sharon, in an emotion-filled voice that Abby wasn’t expecting.
“Thank you,” Abby whispered back. “I’m sorry I…”
“No,” said her mother, stepping back. “Don’t be sorry.”
Abby looked over at her father who was waiting to greet her. Who was this woman and what had he done with her mother? John Fremont pulled his daughter into his arms and hugged her fiercely. When he stepped back, he wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m happy for you, Honey,” he said.
Abby was dumbfounded. Wow! Someone had worked their magic here this week. This was not at all what she was expecting. Where were the recriminations? Where was the chastisement? Where was the migraine?
Sharon read her daughter’s mind. “Oh, don’t fool yourself that you’re off the hook for the complete rearrangement of all the plans,” she said crisply. “But you can thank Jeannette Fenton for stopping me from coming after the two of you with a machete.”
Abby laughed and accepted a glass of wine from her father. She perched on the edge of the sofa. Her mother returned to her chair.
“I was pretty upset the first day…” her mother continued. A snort from her father’s direction led Abby to believe that ‘pretty upset’ might be a bit of an understatement. “…but Jeannette calmed me down and said that we could do what they did for James and Veronica…still have the reception, but call it a party instead. Of course, we won’t want to wait until September for that, so you are going to have to find out from Nick when he can come to do this. He originally said sometime in June would work.” Sharon went into organizational mode. “It would actually be moving things up rather than back, so it wont be a prob…”
John Fremont cut his wife off. “I’m sure it will all work out,” he said, “but right now, I want to propose a toast. To Abigail and Nick…our sincere best wishes for a long and happy marriage.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” said Abby and all the emotion that she’d fought off during the day overwhelmed her and tears flowed down her cheeks.
“Abigail?” asked her mother in concern.
Abby shook her head. “It’s okay. They’re happy tears. It’s just been a bit of an emotional day.”
Sharon nodded. She understood. “Well, here’s to you both.” She raised her glass in salute. Then she looked at her watch. “Now, Mrs. Smith didn’t have a lot of notice, but I’m sure she’ll have worked up one of your favorites.” She rose to her feet.
Abby stood up. “After a week on the road, any home cooking would be good,” she said.
Sharon sniffed at the phrase ‘on the road’ and led the way into the dining room.
