Jake honestly did not have a clue, though he could not help but think there had to be some connection between Laura’s aversion to the act and Celia’s obsession with it, especially since Celia’s apparently started the very day the two of them had gone out together and gotten drunk. “I don’t know,” he told Greg. “I guess my advice would have to be that you just go with it. Eat all the clam you can get before she goes out on the road. You’re not going to get any more for a while after she climbs on that plane on Tuesday, right?”
“That is true,” Greg said thoughtfully.
Jake raised his glass. “To tuna casserole,” he said.
Greg gave a little nod. “To tuna casserole,” he repeated, clinking his glass with Jake’s.
Meanwhile, back in the living room, Laura and Celia were sitting next to each other on the couch, each drinking a glass of white wine. Across the room from them, Sharon was holding Tabitha in her arms while she and Nerdly cooed and made faces at her. Pauline was at the bar, mixing herself a little drink.
“Did you tell Jake about ... you know?” Celia whispered to Laura.
“No,” Laura said. “I’m still not sure it’s a good idea. What will he think about me?”
“Knowing Jake as I do, I honestly don’t think he’ll be offended ... unless, of course, you keep it a secret from him and he finds out about it some other way.”
“How would he find out about it?” she asked. “You’re the only one who knows ... well ... except for the guys in the band of course, and Ron, but they would never say anything to anyone. What happens on the road stays on the road. That’s the rule, right?”
“That is the rule,” Celia agreed. “But sometimes, when the tale is particularly juicy—as this one is—the rule can be broken.”
“I just don’t know,” Laura said. “I’m afraid he’ll leave me if I tell him.”
“I don’t think he will,” Celia insisted. “It’s not like you were cheating on him or anything—certainly not in the traditional sense of the word. It was a very unique solution to a significant problem.”
“I have a hard time seeing it that way,” Laura said. “I certainly wouldn’t like it if Jake told me he was relieving his sexual tension in that manner. I wouldn’t like it at all.”
“Jake doing something like that would not be the same thing,” Celia insisted. “It’s an apples and oranges comparison.”
“Why?” Laura asked. “How is it different?”
“It just is,” Celia said. “Is it a double standard? Sure. But it’s also reality.”
“Yeah ... I suppose.”
“Look, I just give advice when I’m asked. You asked. You don’t have to do what I suggest, but before you decide to ignore the problem, I’d think through all the ramifications. What’s going to happen if Dexter and Z get back together at some point. I’d say that’s a very likely possibility. Do you think Z might mention this to Dex? Do you think maybe Dex might feel honor bound to mention it to Jake if they play together again? Maybe not ... but also maybe.”
“Yeah,” Laura said. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“You do that,” Celia said.
“Anyone need a refresher on their drink?” asked Pauline, who was holding up the wine bottle.
“Hit me,” said Celia, holding her glass high.
“Yeah,” Laura said. “Me too.”
On Tuesday morning, April 26th, one week before the scheduled release of her new album for sale, Celia Valdez reported to the Van Nuys Airport for her flight to Phoenix for the first date of the Small Talk Tour of 1994. Greg drove her there, parking in the general aviation lot and carrying her one small suitcase for her.
“That looks like my ride,” Celia said as they approached the twin-engine prop plane that sat next to the building.
“Not exactly a Gulfstream,” Greg said, “but it certainly looks safer than that deathtrap Jake flies around in. More comfortable too.”
“Yeah ... I suppose,” she said.
The rest of the band was already there, bags in hand—or, actually, resting at their feet as the plane was still sealed up and no flight crew was visible.
“I’m going to miss you, C,” Greg told her.
She looked at him, seeing sincerity in his eyes. “I’m going to miss you too,” she said. “But maybe that’s a good thing at this point, right?”
“I don’t know if it’s good,” he said, “but, like Jake always says, it’s the life we choose.”
“The life we choose,” she agreed. Her look sharpened a bit. “You’re going to behave yourself while I’m gone?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve learned my lesson on misbehaving. It’s definitely not worth it.”
She smiled a little. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Do you want me to stay until you leave?” he asked. “I have that meeting to go to about the premier, but they’ll understand if I’m late.”
“No, you get to your meeting,” she told him. “I’ll call you after the show tomorrow.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
He set her bag down on the ground and they embraced warmly—the warmest non-sexual embrace they’d shared since the Alaska incident. She kissed him softly on the mouth and then did it again.
“I love you, Celia,” he told her.
“I know,” she said. “And I love you too. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“I’ll fly out to catch your show as soon as I can.”
“I’ll hold you to that as well.”
He went back to his car and got inside. With one last wave at her, he drove off, disappearing from view. With a sigh, she picked up her bag and walked over to her band. They all greeted her happily. There was a definite excitement in the air about finally heading out.
The flight crew emerged from the building a few minutes later. It was two pilots, dressed not in the standard white uniform shirts and hats, but in blue jeans and light blue button-up shirts with Peterson Aviation stenciled on the breast. Celia was surprised to see that one of the pilots was a female. She appeared to be in her early forties and had a cute face but her hair was cut extremely short. The other pilot was a younger male, possibly early thirties but more likely late twenties. He sported a mustache and long sideburns.
“Hello everyone,” the female pilot greeted. “I’m Susan Granderson, and I’ll be the primary pilot in command of this aircraft as we embark upon this tour. We’re going to get to know each other very well over the next five months, so you can call me Suzie if you like.”
“And I’m Mark Laughlin,” said the other pilot. “I’ll be the copilot on our journey. I just want all of you know that it’s an honor to fly you all around the country. I think we’re going to have some fun together.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Celia said, stepping forward. “I’m Celia Valdez and this is my band for the tour.” She turned and began pointing out the assembled musicians behind her. “That’s Charlie who plays the bass and Coop who plays the drums. They both used to be with Intemperance. Over here is Dexter Price, sax player, and Liz the pianist, Nat is the violinist, and this kid with the baby face here is Little Stevie, the lead guitarist.”
“We’re pleased to meet you all,” Suzie told them. “Celia, I’ll remember your name quite easily, same for Coop and Charlie, as I used to love Intemperance back in my military days. As for the rest of you ... it might take me a day or two to remember names, so please don’t be offended if I have to ask for them until then.”
“Were you a pilot in the military?” Celia asked Suzie, who was intriguing her in some subtle way that she couldn’t quite put her finger on—well, actually she could, but she didn’t want to admit it to herself.