Joey was sitting up on the kitchen counter when I stumbled blearily into the room, my eyes gummy and my skin sticky from sweat. I stood in the doorway and focused on Joey for a moment; with one hand he was stirring the eggs -- the smell of which had woken me up -- and with the other he was thumbing through a magazine that he'd set on the counter next to him.
"You're way too perky," I said aloud, finally, getting his attention. He grinned at me and beckoned me closer -- with his head, since both his hands were occupied.
"Are you admitting that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to stay up to catch the end of the Revenge of the Nerds marathon?" he said, sounding smug to my groggy brain.
"I'm saying no such thing," I defended myself. If it came down to it, I could protest that I was re-training myself to learn to live with less sleep. "Although, thinking back, it might have been good for everyone involved if they'd stopped at one. You need some help with breakfast?"
"No!" said Joey quickly, sliding off the counter and protecting the eggs with his body. "Just ... sit. These'll be done in a minute." He stirred the eggs for a moment, then turned back to see my pout. "You could make toast," he offered, quite obviously running through in his head all the possible ways I could ruin toast. "Just don't change any of the settings on the toaster."
"I can make toast," I said sourly, tying my robe tighter, if only for something to do with my hands. I grabbed the loaf of bread and popped a couple slices in the toaster. In the end, it came out only slightly burnt, which wasn't really that bad, all things considered.
Joey served up sausages and eggs, which made up for my inept toast, and we sat at the kitchen table, the morning sun shining in through the large windows. It was such an incredibly 'normal' moment that I just reveled in it for a while, until Joey nudged me with his elbow.
"It's getting cold," he said, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "After all the trouble I went to, you're not gonna eat it?"
Shaken out of my daze, I smiled at him. "It's a beautiful morning again," I said. "You ever wish we could do this every morning? Wake up in normal beds like normal people and have a normal breakfast and not have to worry about anyone else?"
"Every day," replied Joey. "Maybe even more than you think. Try the sausages -- they're from that deli at the end of the street. I'd never been there before, but I think we should go back. Damn, these are good." He took another mouthful, and his enjoyment clearly wasn't all talk.
"You ever think about what you're gonna do when it's over?" I asked him as I took a bite of the eggs. Damn, they were getting cold. And my toast was probably rock-ish by now.
"Deep topics for breakfast time," he said, but I could see he was thinking about it. I wasn't sure why I was, except for the idea that it would be really nice to wake up every morning to breakfast with Joey and not have the million other obligations that go with being a pop star.
"I guess," I said, to fill the silence. "I was just thinking."
"It almost was over," he said finally. "Because of me. So yeah, I've given it some thought. That's probably not what you were looking for, though."
"Maybe not," I admitted, "but if you want to talk about it ... " I held my fork about two inches away from my mouth, pausing, waiting for him to give me a yes or a no.
After a moment, he just smiled. "Not during breakfast," he said. "I'm feeling too good right now. And it feels good to feel good, you know?"
And I did know. I knew exactly what he meant by it. Not that there was something exceptional happening, something to anticipate or get excited about, but that there was nothing bad going on. No bad feelings. No bad thoughts. It was relaxing ... something we'd had precious little of over the past few years.
"Later, then," I said vaguely, not wanting to set a time for something like this, just wanting Joey to know that I would talk about it, if and when he wanted to. He smiled and nodded at me and forked another bite of sausage into his mouth. "Is, um, Gary coming to get you again today?"
"Chris," he said, sighing a little. "You know he is." I cringed as I realized I'd broken the happy bubble.
"I'm just checking, you know," I said quickly. I didn't want to accommodate Gary, but it looked like I wasn't going to have a choice. "I could make some coffee or something for when he gets here ... "
And then, suddenly, he was smiling again. "I'm sure he'd really appreciate that, Chris, thanks." His breakfast was almost gone; mine was barely started. It was about damn time I stuffed my face with food ... so I wouldn't be able to talk anymore. This morning, that would probably be for the best.
When I got out of the shower, Joey was perched on the kitchen counter again -- what, did he have a problem with the chairs? -- this time with a phone to his ear and a notepad on his lap. I opened my mouth to say something at the same moment he lifted his head and saw me, holding up a hand to shush me before I could utter a sound. I reached over him, resting my hand on his thigh for balance, and flipped the coffee maker on before I left the room.
I sat down on the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table as I waited. It was too early to be calling anyone anyway, in my opinion, but that was Joey for you. I could hear snippets of the conversation, from time to time -- "Thirty-six hundred of 'em!" and "I don't know how it turned that colour!" and a short burst of laughter that made me smile.
I wasn't great at sitting still, though, and when he hadn't finished yet about five minutes later I got up again and wandered into the bathroom to play with my hair, then sat down at the dining room table. We didn't use that table for eating at all any more, preferring to use the smaller, more intimate one in the kitchen, so it had been left covered in letters and packages that we'd been slowly working our way through replying to.
We'd picked up a case of plain, lined paper from an office supply store the other day to use to reply to the letters. It wasn't pretty, but every single letter was handwritten and heartfelt, and somehow the plain paper made them all just a little more real.
Idly, I picked one up and started reading it. It was almost reflex already -- whenever I had a free moment I would sit here and do a letter. I knew, eventually, Joey would realize that there was just no way he could get through them all, but for now maybe it was a good thing that he was trying.
I went through a couple of what we now considered typical letters -- I love you so much and I hope you get better and I'm gonna go see you next time you're in Anytown -- and then came across one of the other type of letter we'd seen more than a couple times. Someone who wrote to talk about their own friend or family member's battle with alcohol or drugs. Some of the letters were short and blunt; others were practically essays.
This was one of the longer ones, I realized quickly by the weight of the paper in my hands. But I read every word of it. It's funny how I read so many of these, every day now, and they all hit me in some way. None of them felt like 'just another fan letter' which, I have to admit, was how I felt about a lot of the mail the group received.
Gina talked about her brother, how he'd been forced into rehab -- and she couldn't have known how similar it had been to Joey, except Joey hadn't had legal intervention -- and how she'd felt during that time, what Tim's apology had meant to her. Somehow, it was entirely appropriate that I was the one to answer this one, and not Joey.
Joey's apology to me had been a difficult night, for both of us. He'd already spoken to JC and Lance, over the previous few days, but whatever had gone on they'd decided to pretty much keep to themselves.
I'd been prepared for him to say "Chris, I'm an alcoholic" -- knew that that, acceptance, was an inevitable part of the process -- but I hadn't been prepared to spend about six hours with him there in his room while we talked about all the things that had happened, where he apologized for each one. It was the first frank discussion we'd had in a very, very long time.
Then I knew why he hadn't done this with all of us in one night, though I also knew damn well JC and Lance hadn't spent a good six hours with him.
I'll never forget what he said when I left that night though. He'd told me, "Everyone else, they just kinds of listened. Which is good, and what I needed them to do. But you ... you shared with me."
"Did that make it easier or harder?" I had to ask.
"Both," he'd admitted. "It, um, got a lot of things out. That I wasn't really expecting, just yet. But it also made it easier to say the things to you that I needed to. So ... it was definitely good."
"They're going to kick me out, soon," I'd reminded him reluctantly. "You're ... you're gonna be all right, Joey."
He didn't say anything, but he nodded, and I think that was the first time he'd ever agreed with that.
When I started to write Gina back, I talked about that a little. Not the personal parts, just enough so that she knew I'd been there, too. I knew what she was talking about. That she definitely wasn't alone.
And neither was I.
Thousands of people had been through this before, on both sides of the equation. And maybe they hadn't had the additional pressure that Joey'd had from the media and from a career that waited for no one, but the basic human elements were the same. The important things.
I finished off the letter and, on impulse, I added my email address. The one I actually used. I was just reaching for another letter -- suddenly feeling very enthusiastic about just *sharing* with people -- when Joey finally got off the phone.
"Hey," I said, smiling at him as I dropped the letter to Gina in the basket of things to be mailed. "Who was that?"
"Jon," said Joey, a smile even bigger than mine on his face as he sat.
"Jon?" I repeated warily. "Isn't he one of those guys you didn't want to get in contact with again?"
He nodded, then shrugged. "Yeah, but I figured if I wanted to find Daisy, I had to bite the bullet and call some of those people. I'm so glad I did though ... he's gone clean, Chris. The one guy I never thought would be able to do it."
I raised an eyebrow; I didn't know Jon at all, really, but Joey had been pretty adamant, while he was in rehab, that Jon was someone he needed to cut out of his life. Jon was a bad influence. Jon was gonna be dead within the year, probably. "That's great," I said, and it was, but I wasn't as enthusiastic about it as Joey.
"It's amazing, is what it is," said Joey. "I'm so fucking proud of that guy. And it was great to just talk and catch up and stuff." He just smiled for a moment before going on. "Anyway, he managed to confirm my suspicions. Finally, someone who knew something."
"Joey?" I said, pushing a few letters out of my way so I could lean on the table. "What are you talking about?"
"Daisy," he said simply. "He told me Daisy had moved back home to be with her parents. In Minnesota. That was the last he heard from her, but at least it's something."
"So now you're going to go find her?"
"Well, first of all I have to find out where they live," he said, toying with the pen that was sitting on the table in front of him. "I don't have a town or anything. But I have a few more people I can call."
"Well," I said reasonably, giving him a curious look. "How many Nishidas can there be in Minnesota, anyway?"
As he considered that, his face changed. "You're right," he said. "If Leah doesn't know when I finally get hold of her, I can just start ... calling."
Well, that wasn't quite what I meant. If Joey wanted to get hold of Daisy then I would help him do it, but I was starting to get a bad feeling about this whole thing. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I just didn't understand his reasons for wanting closure with her, but I felt like maybe he needed to focus more on his life now, and less on all those things in his past. But then ... I'd never been there, and maybe this was something I just couldn't understand. I didn't like to think that there were things in Joey's life I could never understand, but at least I was coming to acknowledge that they existed.
"Joey," I said finally. "I know we've talked about this, but why do you want to find her so much. If she's out of your life now, can't you just leave her there?"
I was surprised to see the flash of anger cross his face, but it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. "It's not that easy."
"Yeah, but ... can you tell me why?"
His lips tightened, then he sighed. "I can try ... but not right now, okay, Chris? I've tried and ... it's just about getting things settled with her. It'll help me, to stay sober, to not have that relationship with her hanging over my head. Because we never ended it, Chris ... I just disappeared, and she didn't come back. Do you know what that's like?"
"No," I had to admit. "I don't. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," says Joey, starting to look like his usual self again. "Just ... understand that I need to do this, if you don't understand anything else."
"Okay," I said after a moment. I would have said something more, maybe, if I hadn't heard someone pulling into the driveway and a car door slamming. "Gary's here."
He reached across the table and squeezed my hand before going to open up the front door. "Maybe I do want to talk about this later," he said as he got up. "I want you to understand, as much as you seem to want to."
"Thanks," I said, watching him go to answer the door, and hoping that this particular subject wouldn't get dropped.
"You know what would make a great show?" said Joey, sitting down heavily and wiping his neck with a towel.
"What?" asked JC, sitting down more gracefully next to him.
"Us ... just ... singing," said Joey, closing his eyes. "With standing mikes and big screens and ... that's it. No choreography. No dancing. I think people would pay to see that, don't you?"
"Yeah ... about that ... " began Lance.
"You have an idea to get us out of having to retrain ourselves on all this?" joked Joey, mopping his neck again.
Lance looked guilty now. "No ... I ... wasn't going to bring this up until after rehearsal, but ... "
"Out with it," I said, rolling my eyes. I had no patience for people drawing these things out, not anymore.
"They want to extend the tour."
"No," I said immediately, shaking my head. "No way." Everyone else sat in silence for a moment; whether it was shock or disbelief or something else, I couldn't say.
"Why do they want to do that?" asked JC after a moment. "This is only supposed to be make-up dates, not a full tour."
"I know, I know, that's what I said," put in Lance quickly. "But the available tickets for the shows that we're doing sold out in less than an hour. They want to take advantage of that."
"They want to take advantage of us," I said.
"We have plans," said JC. "We're going back into the studio soon."
"It's not entirely our choice ... and you all know that. Besides, they're saying ... " Lance looked vaguely uncomfortable and looked around at each of us before finishing.
"Saying what?" I asked, snapping at him in my impatience.
" ... that we just had two months of vacation," he finished, sounding apologetic.
"Vacation?" repeated Joey in the shocked, angry silence that followed. "Do you ... do they ... have any clue? At all?"
I sat down next to him -- that incredulous, defeated look practically crushing me -- and rubbed his back gently. When I spoke, though, it was to Lance. "They can't possibly think this has been a fucking vacation," I said furiously. "Not just for Joey, but for any of us?"
"On top of the whole worried-half-to-death thing," added Justin, "we must have done three times our regular press last month. Vacation, my ass!"
"You know they call any time we're not on tour or recording 'vacation'," said Lance. He was trying to be the voice of reason, but I could hear the anger and frustration in his voice, too. And I was glad for that; we all should be angry.
"How many shows do they want to add?" asked Joey, unexpectedly.
"A half-dozen," said Lance promptly. "About a week and a half, at the pace we'll be going. Not even that ... they're planning on taking a couple of free days to double the shows in Atlanta and L.A."
"Well," said Joey, "it could be a lot worse. A week, more or less."
"Joey," I said, squeezing him a little. "You're acting like this is a done deal."
"Isn't it?"
"We do have a little influence," insisted Justin. "They're just going too far, with that."
"Thanks," interrupted Joey, "for all being indignant on my behalf. But really .. I think we all know that adding a week to the tour is letting us off easy. And that it's because of me that you're making it such a big deal. Guys, I'm not going to fight it."
"What?" I said. "You can't be serious, Joey. You don't have to let them do this to you."
But he was. He gave me a silencing look and said only, "We'll talk about it later."
"At least wait until we're through the first couple shows of the tour," argued Justin. "At least wait and see how it's gonna be, before you decide."
"By then it'll be too late," said Lance, still the reasonable one. "If they're gonna do this, tickets are going to go on sale within the next couple of days."
"It'll be okay," said Joey, standing up, but giving me a pat on the knee before he did. "It'll have to be. Now come on, guys, break's over."
Joey was never the one to remind us when I break was over, so I knew for sure that this was something he just didn't want to deal with right now. Not until later.
"Joey's right," said JC. "We've got some hard core singing to do?"
"Hard core?" mocked Justin. "You gone all gangsta on us, C?"
But none of the rest of us commented. Joey was already on his way back to the stage, Lance was lost inside his own head, probably working on the logistics of the added dates, and me, I was too busy worrying about Joey.
He probably shouldn't have even been touring at all, let alone having the damn thing extended on him. I didn't want to admit it, but they were right about the fact that we couldn't do a damn thing about it, though. I just needed to know what was going on inside Joey's head. A moment later, I followed the rest of them back.
If Joey could push it aside and concentrate on the rehearsal and just let what happened, happen, then so could I. I took a deep breath before taking the stage with them, giving them a smile and letting them know that all was okay.
You never realize quite how much you mean something, sometimes, until you see it or hear it or smell it. I knew I missed having Joey sing, knew it long before I'd heard him do it yesterday, but what I didn't realize was how much I missed us singing.
Despite the fact that we'd run though a couple of numbers, vocally, at our last rehearsal, it had been alongside prerecorded tracks. Which wasn't to say that it wasn't good, hearing Joey sing again, but it didn't have nearly the impact of doing the numbers a cappella today. It probably wasn't the best we'd ever done it -- all of our voices were a little out of practice -- but it sure as hell sounded like it was.
I think that was when we all knew that we were back.
Justin spoke first. "Wow," he said, and gave every damn one of us a hug, not just Joey. It wasn't even like we'd been practicing without him, but I guess I hadn't been the only one to notice his musical silence.
"That was great guys, let's do it again," said JC, but his voice caught as he said it and I swear to God I saw tears in his eyes before he turned away.
Me, I reached out for Joey's hand and squeezed it, knowing better than any of them just what was going on in his head now when he sang. Just how hard it was. Just what kind of shape he might be in when we were through. But when I saw his face and caught his eye, he was smiling.
"Yeah," said Joey, more breathless than he should have been. "Let's do it again."
I winked at him and let go of his hand and just let the moment happen.
"Where the fuck is Lance?" asked Justin, looking around, eager to get started again. "I bet he's outside having a smoke. Moron."
"Yeah, like you don't," said JC, snorting. "I dunno, I haven't seen him since we went on break."
"I don't," said Justin. "Seriously. Brit made me quit. And I'd never smoke during rehearsal. Jeez."
"I'll go find him," I said. I'd been watching Joey make a phone call in the corner of the break room, but I turned back to Justin and JC when I spoke. "We need to get started again. Tell Joey where I am when he finishes that call?"
JC smirked a little at me and nodded, and I tried not to read anything into that. "Thanks," I said.
Lance wasn't outside, but he was in one of the rooms down the hall from where we were rehearsing, a small conference room with an adequate stock of liquor in one of the cupboards. I knew this room well; we'd had literally dozens of meetings in here. Lance clearly knew it as well as I did, and nodded at me as I came in.
Calmly and deliberately, I took the drink out of Lance's hand and set it on the table. "Not when we're working, okay?" I said, trying not to sound as angry and frustrated as I felt.
"Don't tell me what to do, Chris," he muttered without much feeling. "Like you're some fucking angel or something."
"I never said I was, and you know it. I'm asking you, Lance, not telling you. Why are you doing this, after seeing where it got Joey?"
"Christ, Chris, it's not like it's out of control. I'm not even trying to hide it," he said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I just wanted a drink is all."
"Why?" I pushed. "Why here? Why now? When you know it's not easy for Joey to have that shit around."
"It's not like I'm waving it in his face or something. It's only one drink."
"In the middle of a rehearsal. When only Joey ever really drank before."
"Why do I feel like I'm living a bad after-school special?"
"Yeah, okay, I'm not exactly being subtle about this," I said, "but I won't let this happen again, Lance, I won't. I can't. I'm not even sure we'd survive it."
"I don't have a problem, Chris."
"No a drinking problem, no," I acknowledged, "But hell yeah you've got a problem. The same one the rest of us have. Adjusting to life after rehab. Adjusting to Joey being back in it. Taking in the simple fact that, oh fuck, it can be too much and shit can happen and learning to cope with that."
"You're full of shit."
"I'm not. And I think that's probably scaring the hell out of you right now."
Lance looked at the drink, then at me again. "I think you're overreacting."
"And I think it's a pretty simple, reasonable request, Lance. Just ... not when we're working. Okay?"
He looked back at the drink again. "Fuck. Can't you let me have this one thing?"
"I'm already letting you have your one thing. I'm letting you work yourself into the ground. Lance ... if you're having trouble dealing with this you can just fucking talk to one of us, you know?"
"Talk to who?" he said. "Seriously, Chris, Justin's busy having all his little obsessive dramas over this, and JC's wrapped up in Tate, and you, Chris, you're all about Joey. You don't have time for anyone else."
I stilled for a moment. "Lance, that's not true."
"Isn't it? Be honest, Chris, you're so focused on getting Joey back, ever since he got out, that you don't have the same time you used to for the rest of us."
"Doesn't someone have to be, though?" I asked after a moment. "There for Joey, I mean?"
"I'm not saying it's a bad thing," said Lance quickly. "Looking at how he's changed, even just since he got out, I think you're the best thing that could have happened to him. And I think you'll grow out of this obsessively attentive thing once you're a little more secure that things are really okay now. I'm just saying ... don't be all surprised that I haven't talked to anyone. There's no one to talk to."
I was suddenly worried that maybe he was right. That maybe things had gotten that distant, between all of us. And I didn't know what the hell to do about it.
"I don't know what to tell you," I admitted finally. "For now, just ... " I gestured at the drink. "Not while we're working?"
"Are you asking because you're worried about me, or about Joey?" he asked, and it almost sounded a little bitter.
"Both," I said. "Please?"
After a long pause he nodded slightly, then sighed and shook his head at me and lit a cigarette as he left the room.
"So how are things working out with Dani?" asked JC breathlessly as we leaned against the cool mirror, our warm, sweaty bodies leaving clouds on the glass.
"Oh, fuck!" I said, staring at him with wide eyes. I couldn't believe I'd actually forgotten.
"You didn't call?" asked JC, incredulous.
"I forgot," I said. I knew my mouth had to be hanging open in disbelief. "I totally forgot to call her."
Wordlessly, JC handed me his cell phone and gestured with his chin toward a private corner of the room. I had no choice but to take it, though I was suddenly dreading the coming conversation very much.
Leaning against one wall and staring at the other, I dialed her number.
"Hello?" she said as she picked up, sounding distracted by something. Probably our business, I thought guiltily.
"Hey, Dani," I said, trying to make even those words sound apologetic.
"Chris," she said flatly. There was an awkward silence, then she sighed. "Well, it's nice to know you've remembered I'm alive."
"I'm sorry," I told her. The words were sincere, but even to me they sounded a little empty. "Things got all busy here and -- "
"I'm actually glad you called when you did," she interrupted. "I just got out of a meeting with the new designer for our children's line."
"Oh," I said, and paused. What the hell? Why were we talking about FuMan? She should have been yelling. Or something. "Okay."
"I think you're really going to like it," she went on. "He's done some funky things with the logo, and the cuts on the sundresses are really unique."
"Um ... can't wait to see them?" I offered tentatively, still baffled by the turn of the conversation.
"I'll bet," she said. "In fact, you should come tonight and check it out."
"Tonight?" I repeated. "Dani, I have rehearsal tomorrow, and tonight me and Joe were gonna -- "
"I'm sure he won't mind if you miss one night."
"Dani ... this is insane ... even if I leave right after rehearsal -- even if we cut it short -- I'd only have an hour or two there before I had to hop right back on a plane and come back -- "
She cut me off. "I really think tonight would be best," she stressed, leaving little room for argument. "There are plenty of early flights you could catch that would get you back in time."
Ah. I was going to California tonight. It was pretty much non-negotiable. And I'd bet money that FuMan would barely get a passing mention. "I'll book a flight," I said quietly. "I'll call you with the information."
"Thanks," she said with a false brightness. "I'll see you later, Chris."
Then she hung up on me. I stood there dumbly for a moment with the phone still in my hand before disconnecting and walking back over to JC.
"How'd it go?" he asked, looking a little sympathetic.
"Looks like I need to book a flight to L.A.," I said, hanging onto the phone so I could get the next flight out. "For, like, now." I couldn't believe I was doing this, but I also couldn't say no. "Sorry, but I think we need to call it a day."
"Where did Lance get to?" I asked, looking around the room as I toweled my hair.
"Some industry thing he realized he'd be able to make it to, now," supplied JC, stuffing his wallet in his pocket as he, too, got ready to head out. "You know Lance. Needs to see and be seen. There might be a photo op, after all."
"I thought he was getting over his Hollywood phase," I joked, but a little sadly. Lance had been getting over his infatuation with glitz, or so I thought. Maybe I underestimated the lure of hanging with the stars. Maybe I even underestimated his need to find an escape.
"Not our Lance, no," said JC with a bit of a chuckle, but he didn't sound like he thought it was particularly funny. "I'm sure we'll hear all about it tomorrow."
"JC, do you have a minute?" I asked. It was actually a bit of an uncomfortable feeling to realize I didn't know if he had a minute, had no idea what his plans were tonight. Or any of them. And that just didn't feel ... right.
"Yeah, sure," he said, sitting back down. "I'm not meeting Tate for a while. What's up?"
"You're going out with Tate tonight?" I asked.
He grinned. "I see Tate just about every night, Chris. That doesn't surprise you, does it?"
I shook my head, remembering just how new the relationship was, remembering how I had been, when things were that new, with Danielle especially. I felt a little pang as I thought that, wondering just where that went, and if it was an inevitable loss as a relationship matured.
"No," I said finally, looking up and grinning back. "I guess it doesn't."
"So what's on your mind?" he asked, looking at me curiously.
I had to stop and consider, then, just where I was taking this conversation, just what I actually wanted to ask him. Part of it was about Lance, but part of it was about all of us. And I wasn't sure the two parts weren't really just the same thing.
"Do you think we're still drifting apart?" I asked finally. "Despite Joey being back, despite going back on tour?"
His curious look grew deeper, and mixed with surprise. "I ... wasn't expecting you to ask that question."
"Hadn't expected me to notice?" I asked, knowing the moment I said it that I was right. That Lance had been right, maybe about everything.
"Not really," he admitted, scratching his head nervously. "You've been a bit ... preoccupied."
"I didn't," I admitted. "Lance woke me up to it. JC ... how come we're letting this happen? And why didn't anyone say anything to me, if they didn't think I'd noticed what was happening?" And I was going to make him answer that, because someone needed to.
He sighed and looked down and scratched at his knee. "You're not going to get mad at me if I start my next sentence with 'Tate says ... ' are you?"
"Huh?" I said. "Of course not. Just talk to me here, because I don't think we can let this go on any more."
"Tate says it's actually kinda normal," said JC, smiling gratefully. "It's like this ... period of adjustment, or something. Which doesn't explain it entirely, at least to me, because we've been through, like, a hundred of these. Of periods of adjustment, I mean. But really ... it makes sense when he points out that it's been only a week or so, and we shouldn't really worry about it yet anyway."
"I'm worried about Lance," I interrupted. "That's why I'm bringing this up. I'm really starting to worry about Lance."
JC grunted. "You're not the only one," he confessed.
"He doesn't want to talk to me," I said, looking at JC quite seriously. "Can you try?"
"He's not all that keen on hanging out with me, either," said JC. "He's not a fan of 'Tate says ... ' But seriously ... Tate does know what he's talking about. He's been a total godsend for me, through all this."
"Well ... " I said, thinking about it. "You have Tate ... and Justin has Britney ... and I have Jo--well, I have Dani. Obviously. Maybe Lance needs someone of his own."
JC shook his head. "Lance doesn't need a lover. He needs a friend."
And when I thought about it, JC was very right about that. Having a girlfriend right now -- a real one, not the ones he slept with from time to time and barely talked to the rest -- would just complicate things. "You'll talk to him?" I asked again.
"I'll try," he said with a sigh. "No guarantees. Lance is ... going at his own pace here."
"Help me make sure he doesn't self-destruct," I said. "That's all I want."
"I was already doing that," said JC, standing up. "I'll see if he wants to hang out later tonight, after he'd done with his thing. If he gets done with it before the early hours of the morning."
"Thanks," I said, glancing at the time. "I have to go. I wish I didn't."
"You're seeing Dani," said JC reassuringly, coming over and putting an arm around my shoulders. "Smile, Chris. She loves you." Then he gave me a loud, wet, smacking kiss on the cheek and moved away. "You'll be back in the morning?"
I nodded. "Early. I'll be here for rehearsal. I'll tell you all about it."
"And I'll listen," said JC, giving me a small wave and he grabbed his things and slung a bag over his shoulder. A moment later he turned back. "Hey Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Try and have some fun, okay?" he said, surprising me. "You haven't been doing that much lately. I think I miss that, even if you don't." I could've argued, but it took me all of five seconds to realize that he was right. It was just one of the many things that had changed because of all this. He must've seen the look on my face -- read it easily -- because he went on before I could say anything. "Don't give up on it, Chris. If it's something you loved, that's a part of you, it's not gone forever."
Now that I had no idea what to say to. "I ... thanks, JC," I mumbled. "I'll, uh, try."
He nodded, satisfied that I understood, and waved again. "See you tomorrow, Chris."
"Say hi to Tate for me," I said, my spreading smile genuine now.
"For sure," said JC, right before he left.
I looked at the time again and realized I really had to take off if I was going to make my flight. And I damn well better make that flight, or I was fucked. I hadn't even gotten ready to go yet, let alone called for a cab.
"Hey," said Joey, sliding a hand down my neck to that comfortable spot between my shoulder blades. "I was worried I wasn't going to catch you before you took off."
"Consider me caught," I said, turning and smiling at him. "You know I wouldn't have done that without at least saying good-bye. You'll be all right tonight?"
He rolled his eyes at me and grinned. "I'll be fine," he assured me. "I've been on my own quite a few years, Chris." I opened my mouth to say something to that, but he shook his head at me. "I know what you're thinking," he said. "How can I not think about that, too, Chris? But really, I'll be fine. It's only tonight, and there are a lot of people I can call if I need anything, okay?"
"Okay," I said, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder firmly. "You know why I -- "
"I know," he interrupted. "So how are you getting down there?"
"Cab, I guess," I said with a sigh. "I really, really don't want to take a limo for this, no matter what shit they feed us about image."
"I bet Gary would give you a ride," he said, messing with my hair before I swatted his hand away. "He has to take me, anyway."
"No, that's okay," I told him automatically, because that was about the last thing I wanted to be doing. "I can make my own way there. It's no big deal."
"You don't want to ride with Gary," he said flatly. Damn, that guy could read me way too easily these days; there was a time when he would have just thought that was me asserting my independence. Then again, I'd never made a secret of how I felt about the whole thing and wasn't ready to be over it.
I sighed at him in resignation. "Look, you know it's nothing personal against the guy. I just don't like how this whole thing is happening."
"What, and that means he can't give you a ride to the airport?" pushed Joey. "I know, okay, Chris? I know that. But he is here and neither one of us has much choice about that and you're not exactly making his job any easier."
"That doesn't mean what he's doing is -- "
"I don't care how you feel about that right now," stressed Joey. "You can't change the fact that he's here. Can't you just give him a chance?"
"I don't want to make it look like I approve ... "
"For me?"
And fuck if that wasn't the one thing he could've said right then to convince me. "All right," I said and forced a smile. "I am in a bit of a hurry. It'll be faster this way."
He smiled knowingly, and once again I cursed the fact that he was starting to know me that intimately. And ... was pretty happy about it at the same time, if I was being honest. "I'll go let Gary know we need to take a bit of a detour. Thanks, Chris. I wanted to spend a little more time with you before you left anyway."
And so did I, really, even though I'd be back here in no time. Joey dashed off to where Gary more than likely was having a cup of coffee and I grabbed up the rest of my things. These weren't exactly the best clothes to travel in but they would have to do.
"Hey Chris," said Gary, poking his head in the door. "I'm parked out back. You want to meet us out there when you're ready?"
I frowned at the veiled reminder that Joey had to stay with him and not me. "No, I'm ready," I said quickly, even though I wasn't, quite, and stuffed everything in a bag that I slung over my shoulder as I followed him.
"That was quick," said Joey, walking beside me as we left the building. "We would've waited for you, you know."
"Yeah, I know," I said, nodding and looking down at my feet as we walked. "I didn't want you to have to wait. I'm already imposing." And I hoped that sounded sincere.
"You didn't want me and Gary hanging out without you there, you mean." Apparently I didn't sound sincere enough.
"I don't exactly think you would have been 'hanging out'," I tried to joke, nudging his side and glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. "I never hung out with any of my babysitters. If Cindy McPherson had ever asked, though ... "
"He's not a babysitter," argued Joey, nudging back. "Well, he is, but he's cool."
We stopped at the side of Gary's SUV and waited for him to pop the locks before both getting into the back seat. "I'm not being rude," said Joey, poking his head into the front as Gary got in. "I'm just keeping Chris company."
"Hey, I'm not offended," said Gary, looking at us in the rearview mirror as Joey flopped back into his seat. "You need us to stop anywhere on the way Chris?" he asked me. "Need anything for the trip, I mean?"
"Um, no, no thanks," I said a bit shortly. It wasn't like I was trying to be rude, but I didn't really want to chat with him. For whatever reason -- and I could admit that I didn't know what that reason was -- he'd chosen to participate in this, to be Joey's new jailer, right after he'd just gotten away from his old ones. "Just the airport."
"No problem," he said, pulling out onto the street. "So you're just going out there overnight?"
I let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a grunt. "Look, you don't have to make small talk," I said, staring out the window. "You seem like a nice enough guy, and I appreciate the ride, but we all know what you're doing here so you don't have to pretend."
"Chris!" hissed Joey. I cringed a bit at that, but focused on Gary and tried to read his reaction.
He stopped at a red light and caught my eyes in the rearview mirror. "Do we?" he said simply, then looked away. I'd expected some kind of prepared speech on how he was our friend, and how this was for Joey's own good, but he said nothing more about it.
I looked at Joey and could tell he was unimpressed with me. I hadn't wanted to do that and had actually forgotten for a moment that it would. "Is that what you call giving him a chance?" he asked quietly, staring at me.
"Sorry," I muttered, and I was, but that didn't change much.
There was an awkward silence for a moment before Joey spoke up again, this time not to me at all. "I had the most fabulous phone call this morning," he said enthusiastically. "Someone actually know where Daisy was. More or less. I'm gonna find her."
"Is that right, Joe?" he said, and he was smiling but there was something else there. Something that I'd bet Joey wasn't reading, but I sure as hell did. "What are you going to do when you find her?"
"Talk to her," said Joey. "End this. End all of this. It'll be so great to have this ordeal behind me, and be able to get on with my life. And I like you and all, Gary, but it'll be good not to need you around all the time anymore."
Gary frowned openly this time, and the petty part of me wanted to think it was because Joey said he hadn't wanted to hang out with him, but I knew that wasn't true. He agreed with me that Joey pinning all his troubles on Daisy maybe wasn't a good thing. Which didn't suddenly make everything okay between me and Gary or anything, but it was a step.
"I guess we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it," I said a little flatly, and hoped Gary could understand that tone as well as I could understand his.
"Yeah," said Joey, nodding his head, looking like he wasn't so angry at me anymore. "So Gary, how did the birthday party go? Did you get the treehouse finished in time?"
And so went the rest of my ride to the airport. It surprised me a little how much Joey knew about Gary's life, and vice versa, but I didn't really dwell on that. I just sat there in silence -- Joey definitely noticed my silence as something abnormal -- and listened to the conversation.
When Gary pulled into the lot to let me off, Joey got out of the car, too. "We okay?" I asked him as he pulled me into a hug. "I'm sorry about before ... "
"We're okay," he assured me as he pulled away. "I'll see you tomorrow, Chris."
I squeezed his shoulder one last time before he went around the car to get in the front seat; I was about to head into the terminal when I turned around and tapped on Gary's window. He looked at me, surprised, then rolled it down.
"Take care of him," I said quietly.
He smiled, a little grimly, I thought. "I will," he promised. "Have a good trip, Chris. I'll see you when you get back."
"See ya," I said, waving at them both. Then I turned around and headed inside.
I saw Danielle as I came down the escalator, standing there in her tinted glasses and dark, bobbed wig. She waved a little as she saw me, but didn't smile. Not that I'd been expecting much else. I hefted my backpack a little higher on my shoulder and did smile as I impatiently waited to reach the bottom.
"Hey," I said, kissing her on the cheek lightly. "Let's get out of here. We don't have much time." She nodded slightly, and pointedly didn't take my hand as we headed out the nearest exit and straight to her car.
We kept an office upstairs at her place, in a large room that doubled as a production area when we got someone in to do up some samples, or do some last minute modifications. That was where she headed; she was clear on that. That we were going to the 'office' and not 'home'.
"I think you're going to like the dresses," she said as we drove. "Especially the fabric. It's almost silky, but it's a cotton blend. And dirt resistant, which is great for little girls."
I still wasn't sure what to say about that. Wasn't even entirely certain, now, whether I was there for business, or for personal reasons. "Is it like that stuff I saw in Japan that I liked?"
She shook her head. "No, Chris, that was totally different. We're really gonna have to teach you the right words to describe everything you see. 'That soft stuff with the birds' doesn't really tell us much."
"Yeah, but it means something to me," I protested cheekily. "And aren't you supposed to be able to read my mind?"
"And wouldn't that make everything a whole lot easier," she muttered under her breath. "If you were able to tell the designers what you were looking for instead of drawing them stick figures with squiggly lines around them, things might get done a lot faster, you know."
"They like my stick figures," I protested. "They laugh."
"Yes, yes they do," she agreed, speeding up the car a little. "I have some papers you need to sign, too. A couple are just advertising contracts that we're renewing, and we're contracting a new shipping service. You'll want to read through those when we get in."
"Why are we getting a new shipping service?" I asked, surprised. "What happened to the old one?"
"Too many late and lost shipments," she replied simply, as though the answer should have been obvious.
"Why is this the first I've been hearing about this?" I asked insistently. "Isn't this the kind of thing that we should have discussed?"
"You haven't been here, Chris," she snapped as she pulled into her driveway and reached up to hit the garage door opener. "I had to make the call on this one. Look over the contract we worked out and let me know what you think ... you're good at that kind of thing."
After our legal battles with TransCon we were all pretty good at reading contracts and looking for loopholes, it was true, but I was still caught up on the fact that I hadn't known anything about this until just right now. I followed Danielle into the house and was about to flop down on the couch when she did, in fact, lead us straight upstairs and into the office.
"The contracts are on your desk," she said, gesturing toward it vaguely as she went towards her own and started rummaging through a pile of papers, dropping her sunglasses on the desk and her purse on the chair. "I'll be right back, I need to change."
She disappeared from the room, and I sat down at my cluttered desk to look at the contracts I'd apparently been brought here to sign. A few minutes later she came back, her familiar blonde hair now loose to her shoulders, wearing jeans and a sweater. I was suddenly reminded of the day we met, and how beautiful I'd thought she was. How beautiful she still was.
"Everything in order?" she asked me, grabbing an elastic band out of her desk drawer and pulling her hair back loosely.
"Huh?" I said, pulling my eyes away from her and back to the papers in front of me. "So far, yeah." I quickly signed off on two of the papers and dug into the third one, but my attention was mostly on Danielle. She seemed satisfied with my answer and walked over to flip the coffeemaker on. Never had someone acting so normal made me feel so nervous.
"So when does the tour kick off again?" she asked conversationally as she sat down.
"Next week. Too soon," I replied, resting my chin on my hand.
"You always think it's too soon," she said with a small smile, "except when you don't. Let me know when the pre-tour party is going to be, okay? I'll need to book a flight."
"I will," I promised, and wondered if that was my sign that everything was all okay.
"Do you have time for me to order you something to eat?" she asked, flicking on her desk lamp and studying a page of designs in front of her. "Oh, and the samples for the new children's line are hanging in the production area. Go take a look when you're done with those contracts. And you might want to take a quick look at the books, too. I know I e-mailed you an update last week, but it wasn't very detailed."
"I ... thanks," I said. "But there's no time. I ate on the plane." The 'no time' comment didn't seem to provoke any kind of response from her, though -- urgent or not -- and I just sighed and thought about giving up.
I was more confused than ever about just what was happening here, and watched Dani out of the corner of my eye for a while, the way she was able to focus so intensely, the way she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear every few minutes, the way she chewed on her lip while she was thinking.
And I missed Joey.
"I'm going downstairs," said Dani, out of the blue, after a long, uncomfortable silence. My eyes had been on a sketchbook of design ideas until she spoke, but nothing had been sinking in anyway. "Come on down ... whenever."
I nodded at her, but she hardly even waited for that before turning and leaving the room. I could hear her pad down the first couple of carpeted steps, then the sound was too muffled to discern. I almost stood up and followed right away -- I didn't have much time left -- but then I realized there was something else I wanted to do first, while I had a few minutes alone.
I picked up the phone at the edge of my desk and dialed.
"Hey Joey," I said as soon as he picked up. "It's me. How's it going?"
"I'm bored," he confessed, his voice sounding very distant. "I thought it would be kinda cool, having the place to myself, but ... "
"But it's not?" I asked curiously.
"But it's not," he finished with a sigh. "It's lonely and boring. How's California?"
"Lonely and boring," I echoed honestly. "I don't know what's going on, Joe. She hasn't said a word to me about anything but business."
Joey hesitated; I could hear him fidgeting. "Maybe you should bring it up, then," he said finally. "Maybe she's waiting for that, Chris. Maybe you need to make the first move to show her how important she is to you."
"She made me fly to California in the middle of rehearsals, Joey," I protested, flopping back onto the large bed. "I'm gonna be so fucked up tomorrow, jetlagged and probably with a fucked up voice from flying so much. The least she can do is tell me why."
"Yeah, well, it's not about should have," said Joey. I wished he was right here, right now. It was my turn to need advice, and I needed him here to give it to me. "Chris ... I'm shit with relationships, but if you know you're the one who messed this up, you should probably say something. There isn't some set of rules that you're both playing by, and it's definitely not about what's fair and what's not."
He was right about that, but I did wish she had just come out with what she wanted instead of playing those games with me. Not that we hadn't gotten anything done -- it had been a surprisingly productive working trip so far -- but it was a hell of a long trip to make just for that.
"How am I supposed to do this?" I asked finally. "What am I supposed to do that will ... make this better."
"Fucked if I know," said Joey with a sigh. "Just ... tell her how you feel, I guess. Tell her how much you want her ... and stuff."
I had to chuckle a bit at that. "This feels a lot like asking JC for advice on women. Intelligent ... but kinda vague and abstract." Joey was silent. "That was a joke," I added.
"I know," said Joey and sighed. "I just ... really don't know what to tell you, Chris. Except to make sure something is said, before you come home, and that you talk about it, no matter who has to start it. And then you and I can talk after, when you're here with me."
That sounded like a good idea, except I wished that we could do the same thing now. I was used to conducting all kinds of relationships by phone -- both business and personal -- but Joey had always been an in-person person to me. "Thanks," I said. "I'll ... give it a shot."
Joey chuckled a bit, and I was relieved. "She loves you, Chris. And you love her back. Whatever happens, it won't be horrible. And remember ... I don't exactly have the greatest track record. I won't be offended if you don't take my advice."
"It was pretty good advice," I admitted to him. And really, it was. What it boiled down to, was Joey telling me I should just get off my ass and talk to her. Not bad advice at all.
"So," he said. "When are you coming home, Chris?"
"Mmm," I said, reaching for my back pocket, and the slip of paper that I'd written the flight information on. "Hang on, I've got the times here." I looked at the paper and cringed. "The flight gets in at 4:56," I told him. It wasn't that we weren't used to flights at all hours of the night, it was just that by the time I got home from the airport there wasn't really going to be any time to sleep before I had to start getting ready to go to rehearsal.
"You want me to make sure there's a car waiting for you?" asked Joey, a bit distracted. I could hear him writing something on the notepad next to the phone.
"Nah," I said, shaking my head more by reflex than anything else. "I'll get a cab at the airport. Listen, Joe, don't wait up or anything," I added. "That's really late, and at least *one* of us may as well be rested for tomorrow. I'm gonna catch enough hell tomorrow as it is."
"What makes you think I was going to wait up for you?" asked Joey.
"My spidey senses were tingling," I joked.
"That's blasphemy," said Joey lightly. "Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon like a good boy. Not much else to do, really."
"Okay," I said, poking my finger in a hole that was forming at the knee of my jeans. "I miss you, Joe."
"Hey, I miss you, too," he replied. "I'll see you when you get home, Chris."
"You'd better not. Night, Joey."
"Night, Chris."
He hung up the phone first, which was good because I really didn't want to get off. Because that meant I had to head back downstairs and finally confront -- no, talk to -- Dani about just what had been going on lately.
When I went back downstairs, Danielle was sitting in the den, a cup of coffee in one hand, her feet tucked up underneath her. "Hey," she said softly as I sat down in the chair next to her. "How's Joey?"
"He's ... doing okay," I said slowly. "How did you know I called Joey?"
She smiled, and it looked more than a little sad. "Of course you did," she said. "You haven't seen him all evening."
"Joey can take care of himself for one evening. Isn't it you that keeps telling me that?"
"Yeah, he can," she said. "Can you?"
I frowned at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She sighed and put her coffee mug down. "Chris," she said. "You spend all your time with him. Whether he needs you there or not. How much of that is you needing to be with him?"
I opened my mouth to tell her that Joey did need me, but the words didn't come out. Because Joey did have at least one someone else who was looking out for him now and yet, still, I always felt like I needed to be there.
Dani took my silence as an opportunity to go on. "When am I going to be first again, Chris?"
I had to really stop and be honest with myself and her, now. "I don't know."
"Am I going to be first again?"
I hesitated even longer, that time, thinking through my life now, my needs, my priorities. "I don't know," I was forced to say. And I knew that the right -- the necessary -- answer was yes, but I couldn't say it. Because it was no longer true.
"If you don't know," she said quietly. Seriously. "Then what are we still doing together."
This I wasn't expecting. I was expecting to be yelled at, or lectured or even to have Danielle just completely take advantage of the time I had here. But not this. Looking back, though, maybe I should have been. I had been putting her second, or lower, for a long time now.
"I love you," I said, but we both knew that wasn't an answer to her question.
"I love you, too, Chris. But that's not enough for us to stay together right now. I can't keep sitting here, waiting, when you don't even know if you're going to come back to me!"
"I know," I told her, stalling. There was no quick answer to this, no easy solution, and it was something I should have though about before I got here. But I hadn't realized until now just how far apart we'd grown while I was growing closer to Joey. I'd been taking it for granted that she'd be there when the Joey thing was over ... and it was finally dawning on me that, for me, the 'Joey thing' might never be over.
"Joey needs me right now," I added weakly, knowing now that wasn't the whole story.
"I've been patient, Chris," she said. "I've been really patient because I like Joey and I'm so glad he's getting his life together again and I know you're helping with that. But there comes a time when I have to question whether you and I even have a relationship anymore."
"And this is that point?" I asked softly, hating that I was agreeing with her.
"This is that point," she confirmed. "We could make a go of it, Chris, if you came back to me now, if we worked at trying to fix this. But I'm not sure you want that." She took a deep breath, and I knew she was about to say something I didn't want to hear. "I hate to do this to you, Chris, but you need to choose. Me, or Joey."
I fell silent. I knew what my answer was going to be, but I couldn't say it. Not when there was faint hope still in her eyes, not when she was so important to me. And I had to watch that hope fade as my silence lengthened.
"It's Joey, isn't it?" she said softly.
"It has to be. I'm sorry, Dani. If things were different ... "
"Don't give me ifs and maybes, Chris," she said, and it broke my heart to suddenly hear her voice shake like that. "It's over now. I just ... hope he makes you happy."
My eyes widened. "Dani, no -- " I began. "I never cheated."
"I know," she said, trying to smile even though her eyes were tearing up. "Thank you for waiting."
"No," I protested again. "You don't understand. It's not like tha -- " And then I had to stop, because suddenly I wasn't at all certain it wasn't like that between me and Joey, after all.
"You sure?" she asked, echoing my own thoughts. "Look ... we're not going to disappear from each other's lives. We still have a company to run ... and we're friends, if nothing else, right?"
"Always," I said, the finality of this event suddenly hitting me. Dani and I had been together a long time, we were comfortable with one another ... but we also hadn't really been a couple for almost two months now. And I guess we were both coming to realize that. And even though I was resentful as hell that I'd flown all evening and I'd be flying all night for a measly two hours with her, I knew now why we'd needed to be face to face.
"I think you have a flight to catch," said Dani softly, looking down at her hands.
I glanced at the clock. Sticking around right now to try and smooth things out would just be awkward and futile, and if I called for my cab now I wasn't going to be overly early for my flight anyway. "You're right," I said finally, standing up and reaching for my phone. "Dani ... "
"I'll call you later this week," she interrupted me, standing up. "Before you leave I'll call. I'm just gonna -- " She gestured at the stairs, then quickly headed up them.
I sighed and watched her sadly for a moment. There was nothing I could say or do right now; only time would fix this one. I listened as she closed our -- her -- bedroom door, then dialed for a cab and waited to leave.