By the time Barney the driver got back, Keith and Lesli were just then rolling out of each otherâs arms behind the curtain. Barney checked in with a hearty, âAnybody home?â
âYep,â Keith replied. âYâ have a good visit?â
âOh, yeah. Had a fine time. Ate dinner, made out.â
Lesli piped up: âLot of that going around.â
âOh! Didnât know you had company.â
âShe ainât company,â said Keith, âsheâs my wife. Or will be if we can stay together long enough to get married.â She kicked him. âOw!â
âYou are such a smart-ass.â
âWeâre gettinâ ready to shove off,â Barney said. âAnybody we need to wait for? Anybody disembarkinâ? Whereâs Louie?â
âKicked him out. Heâs ridinâ with Lola now.â
âLucky her. So, we can go?â
Keith looked at Lesli, who smiled and nodded. Keith answered, âYep, letâs hit it.â
âGood enough. Next stop weâll be in another country. First, though, we gotta get a full tank.â
âFine.â
Lesli decided to stay on as far as Montreal, then double back. Heâd catch up to her in a week, when everyone split up. Lola would jet back to Vegas. Luis would go home to his woman.
Sherry and Faith would hotfoot it back to New York to wrap up any loose ends, tending to whatever need tending â not to mention soak up their friendsâ congratulations like sponges â before rejoining the tour out West. Helen and Sam, of course, would be on the way to still greater stardom with their mugs plastered all over magazine covers and Internet publications.
Rolling Stone, naturally, would eventually be on the agenda, soon as Helen and Alena agreed the time was right to push UTC to that level. After which everybody had better get used to the notion of privacy in public places being a thing of the past.
Keith was the only one who considered it any sort of hardship. Lola, Luis and Sherry couldnât wait to be stopped everywhere they went, asked for autographs and photographed by intrusive paparazzi.
They dressed, had a bite to eat. Put the television on, watching one of Helenâs movies. Cuddled up on the couch and enjoyed the scenery flying by.
Keith had been right â the boys were very happy to see Lesli. But they couldnât figure out where Bruno was. âAw, they miss him.â
âThey miss terrorizing the poor fella.â
She shifted, stretched out with her head in his lap. He stroked her hair. âI feel,â she said, âlike such a damned fool. The longer I stayed away, though, the harder it was to do anything about it. Finally, it was too embarrassing to call. So, I just sat and stewed in my juices.â
âUntil Hank put his foot in your behind.â
âYeah, God bless âim.â
âAmen. So, when Iâm done with this leg of the tour, we gonna tie the knot?â
âYâ know, sweetie, I want everybody to be there. Helen and Samantha, too. I donât know about that Faith woman, though.â He understood. Had noticed the two of them exchanging ugly looks, glaring stares. âThat woman doesnât like me. Sheâs got the hots for you and donât you dare say Iâm jealous and imagining things.â
âNo problem. We wonât invite her. Odds are she wonât want to come, anyway.â He thought for a fleeting moment about not returning to the band, just setting up house with Lesli and their impending bundle of joy.
But it would be professional suicide. Along with being in breach of contract, Helen and Alena both would be mad as hell. While Helen wouldnât set out to ruin him, Alena Sheridan sure would. He quickly scrapped that idea. âWeâll work it out. Have the whole world there if you want.â
âGwen, too?â
He joked, âNow, youâre pushing it.â
She laughed and pulled his head down for a kiss. âWhen did you start singing? With the band, I mean.â
âThat was all Helenâs idea. Her and Alena Sheridan. Guess I kind of got drafted.â
âSo. Are you going to get famous, too?â
âWell, Les, it does sort of come with the territory. Lay down with dogs, get up scratchinâ.â
She slapped her knee. âGod, my mother will be beside herself. Her son-in-law the superstar. You know, she still canât wait to meet Helen.â
âShe will, she will. Got a feeling Helenâs gonna get a real kick out of her. I sure do.â
They had a nice time getting pleasantly buzzed, enjoying a relaxed ride, happy as a couple of pigs in slop to be back together.
Next week: Faith finally gets the message
Dwight Hobbes welcomes reader responses to P.O. Box 50357, Mpls., 55403.Â