Date: Sun, 12 Dec 1999 19:24:13 -0600
From: Michael Ellis <michaelwashere@netzero.net>
Subject: The Studio in the Country, Part 3

DISCLAIMER: The story that follows is a work of fiction. Many characters
are completely fictional. Though some characters are based on actual
persons, they should not be considered accurate or truthful representations
of those persons. This story is not intended to reflect the behavior, work
habits, personal hygiene, or sexual proclivities of any real person, living
or dead, since the invention of soap.

WARNING: This story deals with homosexual themes, though none have surfaced
yet. (heh, heh, heh) If this offends you, read no further. If you are under
18 years of age, read no further. If accessing this story causes you break
any laws applicable to your location, read no further.  If you hate witty
stories from the 50s that were probably written for the New Yorker, read no
Thurber.

APOLOGY: Damned homophones! I'm sorry about all the errors in Part 2. I'm
trying to be careful, but some things slip past me.

FEEDBACK: If you want to contact me and make any comments, please send them
to michaelwashere@netzero.com. I'm interested in reading what people have
to say about my stuff.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


THE STUDIO
Part 3 - Monday night

The walk back to the house took a little longer. The path went through the
woods most of the way, and we had to stop once to climb a wooden fence that
separated the pasture from the area around the house. Brian and I
approached the house from the east side, so we entered through our front
door. We found Mom and Robby at work in the kitchen.

"There you are!" Robby said.

"Brian wanted to walk around, so I took him around the pasture
trail. Brian, this is my mother, Evelyn Corbyn. Mom, this is Brian
Littrell, one of the Backstreet Boys."

"The *missing* one, no doubt," Mom said, smiling. "It's nice to meet you,
Brian. We're having dinner in the main dining room in about twenty minutes,
so you two might want to get washed up. And you," she added to me, "need to
get the table set."

"How many for dinner?"

"Fourteen," she said. " I asked Stacey to stay for dinner, since she worked
so late today."

Brian grinned at me. "That will make AJ happy," he said.

"I thought she like Howie best," Robby said.

"Well, let's be sure to ask her at dinner," I replied.

"My, this is funny," Mom said a little sarcastically. "But we have
work. Scoot!"

"My mother, the task master," I said toward Brian as I turned to leave the
room.

"You had to get it somewhere," he replied with a smile as he stepped out
toward the hotel rooms.



I took an incredibly quick shower. Fifteen minutes later, I was dried,
dressed, and setting the large table. It was actually four tables pushed
together, though the tablecloth hid that fact. Configured this way, we
could seat up to sixteen people and still have plenty of room for all the
food. Dad had planned several configurations depending on seating more or
fewer people than that. When it was just the five of us, three of the
tables were folded and stored in the laundry room off the dining room.

The plates and place settings were down, and I was setting out two glasses
per person when Nick and Howie came in.

"Gah, that's a big table!" Nick said.

"Yeah," I smiled at him. "Several trees died to make this meal possible, so
you'd better enjoy it." When I started to pour iced water into one glass
per person, Howie took the pitcher from me.

"Here, let me help."

"Thanks," I told him. "If you're gonna be helpful, I may have to trade one
of my brothers for you. While you do this, I'll start bringing in the
food."

Nick followed in me into the kitchen; and we, with Mom and Robby's help,
had the food on the table pretty quickly. I'd been right about the pot
roast, but Mom had planned things well. Usually she served basic home
cooking, but there was a small chicken salad in case anyone had an aversion
to red meat and enough vegetables - both steamed and fresh - to take care
of any vegetarians that we hadn't known about.

I wonder what she had planned for me tomorrow. She did all the meal
planning, but we all took turns doing the cooking and cleaning, including
the hotel rooms and the laundry. Tomorrow I had to cook five meals -- Dad
and Mom were big believers in mid-morning snack and teatime in addition to
the regular three -- while Robby set the table and Mom did the dishes. On
Wednesday, I'd do the dishes after Robby cooked. Normally this was not hard
work, but this week we had to feed an extra eight people -- nine, if Stacey
stayed for dinner often. I had a feeling that she'd be doing just that.

Brian and Kevin were the next to arrive.

"What smells so good?" Kevin asked almost as soon as he hit the door.

"That's me," Brian said. "I took a shower."

"I hope you didn't take the last one," Howie said to him, with a grin.

"I guess we know why you guys are singers," Nick said, shaking his
head. "If you were comedians, you'd starve." Everyone laughed.

"Well, you won't starve this week," Mom said. "I spent years feeding four
teenage boys, so I've made sure there's plenty of food."

Just then Dad walked in grinning, followed by Mike and Stacey. "Good. You
haven't started yet. I was afraid everything would be gone. Sit down,
guys." Mom and Dad took their usual seats at either end of the table. I sat
between them, in the middle of one side and close to the kitchen door.

While the guys were finding seats, everyone else arrived. Dave and Ms. Shaw
were discussing the music tracks and sat next to each other near Dad. Ed
sat on the corner beside Dad, and Robby took the chair beside him. Stacey
took the chair beside Howie, and when Mike started to sit on her other
side, I saw Robby wave to stop him. Robby shook his head in a silent 'no'
and nodded him toward the empty chair beside Mom. With a confused look on
this face, Mike sat on Mom's left. Nick was on her right, and AJ took the
chair beside Stacey. Once everyone was seated, Howie was across from me,
next to the two empty chairs, and Kevin and Brian were on either side of
me.

"This smells great, Ms. Corbyn," Brian said. I started to introduce Mom to
the rest of the guys, but Nick told me that they'd all met her while Brian
and I had been out walking around.

"Where'd you guys go, anyway?" Kevin asked. "I thought maybe you'd gone
riding without me."

"No, we just walked around one of the riding paths," I told him.

"After the plane and the van, I didn't want to sit anymore." Brian
explained.




"Guys," Dad said, "we're not terribly formal here. Everyone just take
whatever you want from the serving dish nearest you and then pass it to the
left. If you want more formality, that can be arranged, but for tonight
we'll be pretty casual."

"I like it," Howie said, passing one of the platters of sliced pot roast to
Stacey. "It's like eating in a real house instead of a hotel."

"You are eating in a real house," Mike grinned at him.

"You know what I mean. It's not carts of food from room service," Howie
explained.

Brian and AJ agreed with him. "Room service gets old," Kevin added.

"Well, we should discuss breakfast," I said. "I know you have to get an
early start in the morning. We normally just have a buffet breakfast down
here, but if you'd rather have..." - I smiled at Howie - "... 'carts of
food' in your rooms, let me know. It's my turn to cook tomorrow."

"Buffet sounds good to me," Nick says. "What time will it be ready? We have
get to work at 8."

"Make it 8:30," said Dave, "I want some time after breakfast to make sure
I've got all the recordings organized. If we do this efficiently tomorrow
and the next day, the rest of the week will be easy."

"I'll have everything out here at 7," I said, looking at Nick but talking
to everyone. "It'll just be come-and-go. If anyone wants to eat then shower
or the other way around, they can. I'll clean everything away about 9:30."

"Can I help you out in the studio tomorrow?" Robby asked Dave and Ed. "I'm
trying to learn all I can about the technical side of the business."

Before Dave could answer, Dad started bragging on my brother. "Robby's
good. He learned everything I could teach him a couple of years ago, and
he's actually worked with the engineers on a lot of the jobs here."

"Do you work in the studio too?" I heard Nick asking Mike.

"No, I'm more interested in mechanics than electronics," my youngest
brother said. "I'm going to study mechanical engineering at Texas Tech next
year. But right now..." - he stared at Robby as he went on - "...they need
me here for when Robby wrecks the van." Mom, Nick and Kevin laughed at what
he said, then laughed again when the words sank in to Robby.

"Hey!" Robby said.

"Oh, good comeback, dude!" said AJ said to Robby.



Now that everyone had food, I got up to offer everyone drinks. Most people
took iced tea or stuck with iced water. Whenever anyone asked for a soft
drink, I got a can from the sidebar and made a mental note of the brand
they requested. Tomorrow, when we cleaned the rooms, we'd stock their
refrigerators with an extra six pack of anything we knew they liked.

When I sat back down, leaving two pitchers each of tea and iced water on
the table, Kevin said to me, "Mike's the mechanic, and Robby's the
engineer. What do you do around here?"

I smiled. "Oh, I'm the oldest, so it's my job to tell them when they've
done something wrong." The guys laughed.

Brian said, "It's the same thing Kevin does for us," making them all laugh
again.

"Ben keeps me organized," Dad explained. "I market our services and write
up our contracts. Once we have a client, Ben makes all the arrangements for
their stay. He makes sure that I know what needs to be done today so that
tomorrow goes smoothly."

"A job Stacey is rapidly taking over," I smiled at her. "Soon, I'm gonna be
superfluous."

"Wow," said Howie, "I'm impressed."

Stacey made a show of shaking her long auburn hair. In a mock pretentious
tone, she said, "I am impressive, aren't I?"

"No," Howie told her, deadpan. "I mean I've never heard anyone use the word
'superfluous' in conversation before." He smiled at Stacey, who smiled back
sweetly before punching him in the shoulder.



The general conversation broke into smaller conversations. Ms. Shaw and the
engineers talked shop with Dad most of the time, and I noticed Robby
listening closely - Robby had a great capacity to learn things just by
listening: Mike and I learned by asking lots of questions, and Ethan just
seemed to do everything right the first time.

Stacey sat talking to both Howie and AJ, with a grin on face so big that
she looked a little demented sometimes. I mostly talked to Kevin and Brian,
but sometimes our talk included Mike, Mom and Nick. When they weren't
talking to us, Nick and Mike seemed to be talking about electronic
games. Evidently, Mike mentioned the basketball goal to Nick, because Nick
called down the table to Brian, "Hey, Brian. They have a basketball court
behind the gym."

"No, it's a half court," Brian told him, "and I already saw it. You and I
are supposed to challenge Robby and Michael."

"Mike," Mike corrected him quietly.

"Challenge Robby and Michael to what?" Robby asked, paying attention once
he'd heard his name.

"Basketball," Brian said. "Ben said that Nick and I should play the two of
you."

"It's a plan," Robby said.



A few minutes later, there was one of those inexplicable pauses in
conversation, when most everyone stops talking. When it happened, the only
sound in the room was Stacey saying to AJ "... never even heard your
music." She stopped when she realized that everyone was listening to her.

But AJ started where she left off. "They never even heard of us!" He was
looking from Robby to me and back again.

"Sure, we'd heard of you," I started explaining, "but I had never heard
your music."

"But you've heard it now, right?" Brian asked.

"Yeah," Robby said, laughing. "When Stacey found out you were coming and
that we'd never heard your music, she brought us your CDs *and* 'NSYNC
*and* 98 Degrees." He stressed the word "and" harder each time. "It was
like our own, private, boy-band music festival all week long." He was
laughing really hard now, and some of the others began to laugh along.

"I hope Stacey didn't tell a lot of people we were coming," Phyllis Shaw
said, eyeing her coolly.

I could sense both Mom and Dad about to defend Stacey, but Stacey beat them
to it. Looking down at her plate, Stacey said, "Speaking practically, I
have a good job here, Ms. Shaw, and I'm not going to mess that up. Speaking
more idealistically, I know what to say and what not to say." Stacey looked
Ms. Shaw straight in the eye and added, "It's a useful thing to know."

There was a bit of a pause, which Howie diplomatically broke by "So, what'd
you think of our music?" I hesitated, thinking how I'd answered the
question when Stacey asked me the same thing three days ago.

Robby started talking before I did. "Well, 98 Degrees has a good production
value, but it's smooth-sounding background music - nothing I'd put on to
really listen to."

"And most of their songs sound very much alike," I added. "The songs are
well done, but they bore me. You and 'NSYNC have a good sound, too. And
your songs are more creative than a lot of the competition. I think 'NSYNC
has takes more chances in their choice of songs, but they're also
cheesier."

Then Dad joined the conversation. "'Sailing' was a cheesy song when
Christopher Cross sang it, and it's even more cheesy in close harmony."

"You mean someone recorded that before 'NSYNC?" Stacey asked.

"I'll play it for you later," he told her. "My wife has the album," he
added, trying to embarrass Mom.

It didn't work. All Mom said was, "Kevin, would you please pass the
broccoli?"

"So, do you like our music?" Brian wasn't going to let this go.

I looked at him. "Not really," I finally said. "I mean, you're really good
at what you do. But it's just not my favorite style of music." I tried to
watch the expression on his face, but he turned toward Robby when he
started talking.

"And I pretty much listen to country music," Robby added.

"Yeah," Ms. Shaw laughed for the first time. "I remember all that Hank
Williams in the van."

"That's this month," Mike told her across the length of the table. "Last
month, he only listened to Ernest Tubb."

"I've never heard of him," Nick said.

"Nick," Ms. Shaw said, still laughing. "He was dead before your parents
were born."

The conversation broke up again. Stacey was giving her opinion of
Backstreet Boys songs to AJ and Howie. At Dad's end of the table, Ms. Shaw
and Robby were discussing where he got such a taste for old music. At the
other end, Nick and Mike were trading stories of being told "that was
before your time."

As I reached for the mashed potatoes, I asked Kevin and Brian, "So, is it a
problem, me not being a starry-eyed fan of your music?"

"No, way," said Kevin. "I get tired of being constantly surrounded by
people who just rave about our music all the time. You start to wonder if
they mean it."

"At least," added Brian, grinning again, "you didn't claim to be a fan when
you weren't. I hate when people do that." He took the mashed potatoes from
me. "So, what do you listen to?" he asked.



Some time later, after most people had had dessert and after Nick and Mike
had each had two, the group broke up. Dad and Robby carried most of the
things to the kitchen, where Dad got to work washing and putting things
away - he'd done the cooking yesterday, so washing up was his job
today. Stacey offered to help clean up, but when Mom told her to go on
home, she somehow managed to get both AJ and Howie to walk her to her car.

Ms. Shaw claimed she was tired and wanted to turn in early. Dave said the
same thing: he'd been in the studio for some eleven hours that day and
wanted to be ready to get back to it in the morning. Ed had moved into one
of the other bedrooms in Dave's suite, but he said he wanted to watch a
little TV before turning in. Mike and Nick headed into the next room to
connect the Playstation to our big-screen TV. With Robby in the kitchen,
Mike wanted to play as much as possible before our brother knew the thing
was out of the box. Brian flopped onto the big couch to watch them play.

I tossed Kevin a can of Coke from the sidebar and said, "C'mon, let's go
check the horses for the night."



Kevin and I left Mike, Nick and Brian in the game room and walked through
the house. At the south end of the house, we stepped into the den and
through it into the gym.

"Whoa, nice set-up!" Kevin said, seeing the gym for the first time.

"Yeah, we added this room almost ten years ago, and Dad and Ethan have been
building up this collection of equipment since then," I told him. "Those
two doors at the end are for two showers - we use them as changing rooms
for the pool. That back door leads to the basketball court Nick was talking
about."

"Who's Ethan?" Kevin asked. "The brother I haven't met?"

"Yeah, he lives in Austin. But you may meet him this weekend: he's supposed
to come up on Friday." I opened the French doors that lead out to the pool,
making sure that they were locked behind us. "Do you think you'll wanna use
the gym this week?"

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Sure, it's usually unlocked during the day. If you come early in the
morning, it may be locked up, but your room key will open these doors to
the pool. The alarm system shuts itself off at 6:30." By now, I was leading
him around the corner of the building toward the barn and stables. The pool
was empty, but the underwater lights made it glow a pale blue.

"Maybe we could use the pool, too," Kevin said, looking at it as we walked
past. "It was almost warm enough today."

"And it's supposed to get warmer for the rest of the week," I
said. "September weather is a little weird in Texas: we never know if it
will be hot and sunny, or cold and wet. Sometimes it's both -- on the same
day."

"Sounds like home," he laughed. We stepped across the gravel drive to the
barn. As I opened the large barn door, the smell of animals and hay hit our
noses. I'm told that a strong animal smell is unpleasant to most people,
but I've grown up around cattle and horses: I like the smell.

Kevin evidently did too. One small light bulb was burning near the ceiling
of the barn my grandfather had built, and when I turned on the others we
could see the corn crib on the left and six horse stalls on the right. One
was empty, but three horse heads were hanging out into the room. They
turned to look at us, and Kevin's smile was big when he saw them.

He stepped over to the nearest one, a palomino mare named Vanessa, and
reached out his hand to her. Instead of immediately touching her, he let
her sniff her hand, let her get used to him. When she felt safe enough to
nuzzle Kevin's hand, he gently stroked her nose and spoke to her softly.

I opened the corn crib to get some sweet feed for the stalls. Hearing the
squeaky door open, nuzzles appeared in the last two stalls and Tico began
to stamp and complain. I walked to him with a bucket of full of feed in my
left hand. "Bitch, bitch, bitch," I said to him with affection in my
voice. I patted his nose and cheeks before reaching to stroke his long
neck. "You act like you're neglected, Tico. The most neglected horse in the
world. When really you're just spoiled rotten."

"Tico's your horse?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah. Well, technically, Dad *owns* them all, but Tico only behaves for
me, so I get him by default."

"Why does he behave for you?"

"I don't know. Other people can ride him, but he paws the ground and
twitches and just generally complains until they get off. But when I'm on
him, he seems happy." I poured some of the sweet feed into the small
plastic trough nailed to the wall of Tico's stall, then stepped to the
other stalls to do the same thing.

"Will we get to ride tomorrow?"

"If you have time. It sounds like you guys are going to be very busy."

"We won't be at it all day. Our voices get tired after a few hours, so we
don't do much recording. We'll probably have a long break for lunch and
then stop for the day in the late afternoon."

"I haven't checked Mom's menu for tomorrow, so I don't know what I'm
supposed to do for lunch and dinner. But if you have time to ride after
you're done in the afternoon, I'll make sure I have time too. Call me in
the kitchen when you know something: I'll probably be in there all day." By
now, I was pouring the last of the sweet feed into Vanessa's trough. After
petting her and telling her goodnight, I crossed the room to hang the
bucket on a peg near the corn crib's door.

"That's not very much food you gave them," Kevin said, sounding a little
confused and concerned. I opened the barn door and closed and locked it
after Kevin had come out.

"Oh, it's not meant to be a meal. More of a dessert, really. Most days the
horses are out in the pasture, but we like them to stay in the stables at
night. Knowing they're going to get some sweet feed every night makes them
come looking for the barn in the late afternoon, instead of us having to go
look for them."




When we rounded the corner of the gym, we saw Robbie at the other corner of
the patio feeding the dogs, Rex and Regina. Regina was eating what he'd put
into her dish, but Rex saw started jumping and barking when he saw Kevin
and I approaching.

"Calm down, guy," Robbie said to the Labrador, patting the top of his
head. "That's no way to treat a PG."

"PG?" Kevin sounded confused.

"A 'paying guest.' Rex needs to treat our clients better." Robby was
kneeling beside the dog now. Rex had stopped barking but was still watching
Kevin. Kevin extended his hands so that Rex could sniff him and get to know
him. Regina raised her head long enough to sniff at Kevin a couple of
times, then immediately went back to eating. Eventually, Rex calmed down
too and joined her. Robby opened the French doors into the dining room and
we went in. The alarm system beeped when the door opened and closed, but it
was hard to distinguish from the sounds of the game from the next room.

Robby and Kevin were watching Nick and Mike play. Brian was still on the
couch, but he looked half-asleep. There was no sign of AJ or Howie.

Dad came out of the kitchen. The brief glimpse I got of the room through
the swinging door showed it spotless. Tomorrow I would mess it up five
times and have to clean it four. This thought reminded me that I should see
what Mom had planned for me. Then I started thinking that I had to have
breakfast ready at seven, then I needed to get up at 5, so I should get to
bed at....

My mental calculations were interrupted by Dad saying, "Mike, you're
mother's gone to bed, so don't let this game get any louder than this."

"Okay, Dad."

"And have you checked the doors?"

"I'll do it," I said. "Mike's in the middle of something."

"Okay," Dad said. "I want Ms. Shaw to know she and her boys are safe in
here."

"No one's gonna get in, Dad," I told him. "Everything will be locked, and
the dogs are watching the outside. Though I still think Tico would be a
better watch dog."

"No, Tico'd only protect you," Robby said. Kevin and Dad smiled.

"Well, anyway," Dad said, "check the doors. And I'll see you guys in the
morning." Like he'd done most nights of our lives, Dad reached up and bent
our heads over so he could kiss us "goodnight" on the top of the head. I
guess it was his way of being affectionate without being unmanly. "Kevin,"
he said, "I just met you this afternoon, so you don't get a kiss. Neither
do you, Captain Joystick" he added, speaking to Mike, "and if can hear that
thing when I get upstairs you'll have to turn the sound completely off."



We all said "goodnight" to him as he went up the stairs. Robby was grinning
as he watched him go. "Dad calls Mike 'Captain Joystick' all the time," he
said. "I don't think he knows how dirty that sounds."

AJ stepped into the room from the direction of the hotel rooms. "So," Kevin
grinned at him, "did Stacey choose Howie over you?"

"We just walked her to her car, and she went home. Then we went to our
rooms to call home. Howie's gone to bed, but I came down to see what's
going on."

"Bed sounds good to me, too," Kevin said. "I'm gonna call home, then
crash. G'night, guys!"

We all said 'goodnight' to him, then he was gone.

"Robby," AJ was saying, looking at the big-screen TV through the doorway
that connected the dining room with the game room. "I think these children
have had this game long enough. What's say we take it away from them?"

"Come and try it, old man," Nick said without taking his eyes off the
screen.

I started confirming that the doors were locked, beginning with the French
doors in the dining room and the game room. By the time I'd done this, AJ
had leaped on Nick and was trying to get the joystick out of his
hands. Robby had his arms wrapped around Mike's just above the elbows,
pinning his arms to his sides. This turned out to be a stalemate: Mike
couldn't play anymore, but Robby didn't have a free hand to get the
joystick from him.

When I stepped out into the hall to check the other doors, I heard Brian
say, "Ben, wait! I'll come with you."



We made the circuit, counter-clockwise around the house, checking every
door: den, gym, living room, studio front office, and all the doors that
opened from the hotel ground floor onto the yard where the pool was.

As we went, we talked about various things, insignificant things. We
compared living with three brothers to traveling with four other guys. We
compared living and working in your parents' house to being on the road and
almost never seeing your family. We compared our lives in lots of ways, and
we realized that, though our lives were very different, we seemed to be a
lot alike. Both pretty even-tempered, down-to-earth guys.

When I mentioned this description to Brian, he grinned again. "Yeah, and
that pretty much describes Kevin and Howie, too. AJ goes from being very
adult to very off the wall, and Nick just seems hyper all the time."

I laughed. " 'sounds like Robby. Mike and I are happy most of the time, but
we can get moody. Robby is *always* happy."

All this time, I was struck by how easy Brian was to talk to. All the guys
were easy to like: They were relaxed and funny, and they seemed to really
appreciate being in a home with a family instead of a hotel with a
staff. Howie and I could trade jokes, and Kevin and I got along well. But I
found myself really liking Brian. I got the feeling that by the end of the
week, I'd be sorry to see these guys go.

Mostly I was relieved to discover the Backstreet Boys were as nice as their
reputations said they were.

Once we'd checked all the doors, we got back to the game room in time to
see the guys disconnecting the game.

"Mom and Dad say we're keeping them awake," Mike explained as he wrapped
some cords around the joysticks. "We moving it to the third floor common
room." In the center of each floor of the "hotel" was a common room, next
to the fire stairs behind the elevator. The rooms could be accessed by
someone with a room key from either the hallway or the kitchen in either
suite. Each room was built for a different purpose. The one on the first
floor had a bar and a pool table; the one on the second was a library, and
the one on the third had another big screen TV. This was the room that we'd
bought the game for in the first place.

The four of them had no trouble carrying everything, so they didn't need
our help. "I'm gonna make some hot chocolate," I said to Brian. "D'ya want
some?"



As I made two cups of hot chocolate, I told him about my grandmother making
it for us when I was little. "We'd visit them in this house at Christmas
time, and she'd make us two cups of hot chocolate every day: one before our
nap and one before bedtime. When I was little, I thought hot chocolate was
part of going to bed. Of course, she would think much of this recipe," I
said, as I handed Brian a cup. "She didn't have Hershey's syrup and a
microwave."

"If this was your grandparent's house, it's been in your family for a
while," Brian said.

"I'm the fourth generation," I told him. "That's not much in a lot of
places, but it seems like a lot around here, with so many people coming and
going. My great-grandfather came here from England and built the first
farmhouse. My grandfather and his sons built a bigger house on the same
place. When he died ten years ago, my father moved us down here from
Chicago and began the recording studio. It started just as his hobby
really, but it's been successful enough for him to expand and get people
like you guys here."

"It's a good studio," Brian said. "It's small, but it's well built and has
great equipment. I wouldn't mind doing more work here."

"And we'd be glad to have you back," I replied, "especially now that I know
what nice guys you are."

"You thought we wouldn't be nice?"

"Well, there's always the chance that a performer is gonna show up very
full of their own importance, really buying into their hype. Stacey tells
me that you guys have a reputation for being nice and ordinary and
down-to-earth, but that could have been just the way your publicity people
paint you to the world."

"So you were afraid we'd be assholes," he put it bluntly.

I pretended to think about it before nodding slightly. "There was that
possibility." When I saw how seriously Brian took my comment, I gave him a
grin, which he returned.

"And did Robby and Mike expect us to be assholes, too?" Brian raised his
cup to his lips and took a drink. He was swallowing it when I answered him.

"Robby didn't expect anything - he always takes people at face value - but
Mike thought you were all gay." This must have surprised him, because he
choked just a little on the hot chocolate.

"Why did he think that?" he asked me.

"Mike thinks all guys who can dance are gay. He's lived in Texas a little
too long, if you ask me," I told him. We went back to our chocolate and
didn't talk for maybe a minute. The quiet was very relaxing, very
comfortable.

"Actually," Brian said finally, "our reputation *is* all hype. In real
life, the five of us are spoiled, self-important prima donas who fight all
the time and can't stand the sight of each other." His grin was big now,
and I returned it.

"And I'm a seven-foot black woman named 'Sheniqua'," I said.

"Nice to meet you, Sheniqua," Brian said.

We sipped at the chocolate for a moment, and I reached over to get Mom's
clipboard from the wall. Turning to the next page of the yellow pad, I read
what she had in store for me. Brian noticed my frown and asked, "What's
that?"

"Tomorrow's menu," I answered. "She wants pancakes for breakfast, so I'm
gonna need to be up early to make lots of batter and cook a few at a time
so they'll be hot. I guess I should turn in pretty soon."

Brian looked at his watch. "It's after midnight! I didn't know it was that
late."

"Time flies when you are with as good a conversationalist as I am," I said
with a grin. I put our two cups into the sink: they could get washed in the
morning with everything else.

"Actually, you are easy to talk to," Brian said as we headed toward the
door.

 "I was thinking the same thing about you earlier. At this rate, by the end
of the week I'll have used every word I know and will have to start making
up new ones."

"Y'know," he said, deadpan, "you're allowed to use those words over and
over." He grinned just a split second before I did.

By this time we were standing next to the dining table. As I turned to go
left, my right hand came up to pat him on the back. "G'night, Brian."

"G'night, bud," Brian said to me. He stepped through the doorway into the
hotel as I started up the stairs.