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“Interesting,” Jake said, with sincerity. It had not occurred to him that there were still butcher apprentices in the modern world.

“We’ll get to meet the baby?” Laura asked.

“Of course,” Joey said. “That’s the purpose of the visit.”

Is it really? Jake thought cynically as he heard the words. Or is it that you need some money to buy a new car or to put a new roof on the house? His plan remained unchanged. If Laura’s family asked for cash, he would simply give them whatever they asked for. Anything to get this trip over with so they could go back to their normal lifestyle.

“All right then,” Joey said. “Now that we’ve got the introductions made, how about a beer?”

Jake looked at him, positive he had heard the man incorrectly. “A beer?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Joey said. “You just flew in from up north. What did that take you? A couple of hours?”

“About that,” Jake said.

“I like to have a cold one after I travel,” Joey said. “What do you say?”

“Uh ... sure,” Jake said. “I’d love a beer, but ... uh ... I thought you were ... you know ... Mormon.”

Joey laughed. It was a pleasant laugh that had a lot in common with Laura’s. “We’re what you call Jack Mormons, Jake,” he told him.

“Jack Mormons?” Jake asked. He had never heard that term before.

“It means we believe in the Heavenly Father and were raised Mormon, but we don’t really follow all of the ... you know ... the rules, like not drinking beer or coffee, and like giving ten percent of our hard-earned money to the church.”

“You don’t participate in the tithe?” Laura asked, seemingly more surprised by this than the fact that her brother drank beer.

“Are you gonna start lecturing me like Mom used to, Little Bit?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said. “I’m just surprised. I haven’t given money to the church since I moved out on my own.”

“Ten percent is a lot of goddamn money,” Joey said. “And if it means I’m not a member in good standing, that I’m not welcome at worship services, so be it. I like to spend my Sundays watching football and drinking beer anyway.”

Jake smiled again, his respect for Laura’s brother creeping up a bit. “I like the way you think, Joseph,” he said.

“Please, call me Joey,” he said. “Mom is the only one who calls me Joseph.”

“Joey it is,” he said. “And I would love to have a beer.”

The beer turned out to be Budweiser in the can, something that Jake had not consumed in well over ten years now. And he was not offered a glass to pour it into. Oh well, he thought, pulling the pop top and releasing the pressure, when in Pocatello, do as the Pocatellons (or whatever they call themselves). Though it was almost completely tasteless compared to the brews he normally drank (the strongest flavor was the metallic aftertaste caused by the can itself), it did bring back rather nostalgic memories of high school kegger parties and after-gig drinking during the club days at D Street West. Laura, Sarah, and Joey all had one as well. They sat on the sectional as they drank, putting the cans down on old and mismatched wooden coasters. Grace and Chastity joined them, sitting in the recliners and drinking cans of Pepsi.

“You’re still working for the city?” Laura asked her brother.

“That’s right,” he said. “Coming up on twenty years workin’ for Pocatello waste management. It’s a much easier job these days than it was when I started.”

“The automation?” Jake asked.

“Yep,” he confirmed. “Back when I started, there was three of us to a truck. The senior guy got to drive and the two juniors had to heft every can from the curb by hand and dump it in the back. We could only do two hundred stops a day workin’ like that. Then, back in 88, we got the trucks with the arm. Since then, one man workin’ all by himself can easily do four hundred a day and never have to move his butt from the seat. Of course, that comes with a price.” He patted his large belly. “You get fat and you get hemorrhoids and you get back problems.”

“That’s too bad,” Jake said.

Joey simply shrugged. “It is what it is,” he said. “The city pays a decent wage—enough we were able to buy this house and Sarah didn’t have to work when the kids were little. We have good benefits and retirement too.”

“Those are good things to have,” Jake said, though he really could not relate.

“Enough about garbage,” Sarah said. “Tell us the story about how you two met. We’ve all seen the gossip column stories. Tell us how it really was.”

Laura handled this part. She told the tale of how she had played in the jazz band in college and one of her former bandmates—Ben Ping—called her up out of the blue years later and asked her if she might be interested in auditioning for Celia Valdez. She told of the audition and how she had wowed them with her sax at first, only to disappoint them when she tried to play Celia’s material.

“I was a bit of a music snob back then,” she admitted.

“Back then?” Jake said, raising his eyebrows up.

“Shut up, you,” she said, slapping at him playfully. “I’m nowhere near as bad now.”

He smiled and waved his hand in the see-saw fashion, earning himself another playful slap.

“Anyway,” she said, “Jake and Celia were working closely together on their CDs. Jake was playing the guitar parts and mostly directing the sessions. We didn’t get along too well at first, did we, sweetie?”

“We did not,” he agreed. “She thought I was a Satan-worshipping, girlfriend abusing, cocaine from the butt crack sniffing freak.”

“Don’t forget that I thought your music sucked too,” she added helpfully.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Almost forgot about that part.”

“Did you really snort cocaine from a girl’s butt crack?” asked Chastity.

“Chase!” Sarah said, aghast. “You don’t ask a guest something like that!”

“It’s okay,” Jake said. “No, I did not snort cocaine from a girl’s butt crack. Like the Satan worshiping and the girlfriend beating and most of everything else I’ve been accused of over the years, the media pretty much fabricated that on their own.”

“Oh ... I see,” Chastity said, apparently disappointed by Jake’s little white lie.

“Anyway,” Laura went on, “I finally learned to drop my music snobbery and get into what Celia was producing. Once that happened, I kind of became one of the team. I learned that Jake really was a talented musician and a good guy to work with. We became friends as we worked together in the rehearsal studio day in and day out. And then, when we went up to Oregon to actually start the recordings, that’s when we started to get closer and started having romantic feelings for each other.”

“It happened gradually?” Sarah asked.

“In a way,” she said. She told of how she had come out to the hot tub one night and found Jake already in there. She joined him (“you don’t know how close I came to not getting in there with you,” she shared with a giggle) and that led to the musical challenge in which they listened to each other’s favorite music and tried to get into it. And then came the trip home to visit her ‘fiancé, Dr. Dave the dentist. She did not share that he was married, just that he was neglectful and unreliable and that he had bowed out of a plan to visit his timeshare and had left town on other business without even notifying her in advance. And if they had read or heard about the articles that came out after the gossip rags had broken the story about Laura and Dr. Dave, they prudently did not mention it.

“He sounds like a dick,” Chastity opined.

“Chase!” Sarah admonished. “Your language!”

“Sorry,” she said, seeming anything but.