“It is a pretty bad disease,” Ted said, pride in his voice.
“Have you seen a doctor for this?” Celia asked him.
“Doctors don’t know shit,” Ted scoffed. “Ask any medic. A bunch of morons, all of them.”
“I guess that would be a no,” Laura said, pouring herself a glass of juice.
“How long is Pauline going to stay here?” Ben asked—her presence was, of course, the reason why he had to sleep with Ted.
“A couple of days,” Celia said. “Sorry. I wish there was another way.”
“Maybe you could say you’re gay and Laura will let you sleep with her,” Ted suggested.
“That could work,” Laura said brightly. “Of course, I’d have to see proof of gayness first. How about you make out with Ted there?”
Celia looked at the redheaded saxophonist and grinned. That dry wit again.
Pauline came in next. She was still wearing a pair of silk pajamas, her hair in disarray, her course directly toward the coffee pot.
“Good morning,” Celia greeted. “How did you sleep?”
“Not bad,” Pauline said, pouring herself a cup. “I did what Jake suggested and left the window open. It got cold in there but the sound of the ocean was so soothing.”
“Yeah,” Ben grunted. “Unlike other noises one might hear in the night.”
Pauline chose to ignore this. “How long until breakfast?” she asked. “It smells incredible.”
“About another five minutes or so,” Cindy said.
Pauline nodded. “I’ll grab my shower after we eat. I have a ten o’clock meeting with Obie down at the studio. Stan, will you be able to drive me?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll wait for you there and we can hit the grocery store on the way back.”
“Sounds good,” she said. “Where can I take a shower?”
Ben nodded over toward the guest bathroom in the hallway. “That’s the one Ted and I use,” he said.
“I need to hit that bad boy right after breakfast though,” Ted said. “If I don’t, we’ll be late for the session.”
“I can wait, I suppose,” Pauline said.
“Or you can use the shower in my room,” Celia suggested. “I’m gonna hit it right after we eat, but I’ll call down to you and you can hop in when I’m done.”
“Okay,” Pauline said. “Sounds good.”
“Oh, what’s up with that crap?” Ted demanded. “She gets to use the master shower? The walk-in glass job with the pulsating head and the self-contained heater?”
“Uh ... Ted,” Ben said. “She’s one of the owners of the record company we work for, and the manager of all of us, remember?”
“That’s right,” Laura said. “I believe she’s the one who makes sure that we actually get paid.”
“Oh ... yeah,” Ted said. He smiled at her. “Sorry. Shower wherever you want, boss lady.”
“Thank you, Ted,” she replied.
Jake came back down just as breakfast was being served. He was now dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt he’d picked up at one of the local souvenir shops. It had a picture of a lighthouse on it and the name of the town emblazoned below it.
“So, what did you think of Frontiers?” Jake asked Laura as they sat down at the table.
“It wasn’t that bad,” she told him. “The vocalist has an amazing voice and the music itself, while not exactly my thing, was put together pretty well.”
“Remember,” Jake told her, “you have to listen to it every night for a week.”
“I understand,” she said.
“What are you two talking about?” Celia asked, curious.
“A little challenge that Laura and I have going with each other,” Jake said. “We’re each going to listen to a CD that the other picked out for a week and see if we can get into it. The goal is to find something the other person will like.”
“Interesting,” Celia said thoughtfully, not referring to the challenge itself, but the interaction between Laura and Jake. It seemed that some sort of bond was forming between them. Who would have thought? She was surprised to feel a sharp little dig of jealousy as she pondered this development. Where in the hell did that come from? she had to wonder.
“What CD did you give her?” asked Ted from around a mouthful of food.
“Frontiers, by Journey,” Jake said.
Ted nodded thoughtfully. “Not bad,” he said. “I would’ve gone with a little Steely Dan though. Maybe Can’t Buy a Thrill?”
Jake looked at the drummer respectfully. “I actually have that one on my list,” he said.
“That album is fuckin’ tight,” Ted said.
“Ted,” said Cindy, “can you please try to remember Rule Number 5?” Rule 5 was: Please try to restrain yourself from using expletives above the level of “shit” while in the presence of anyone’s parent. It was undoubtedly the most ignored rule of them all, and not just by Ted.
“Sorry, Mrs. A,” he said. “Sometimes they just slip out, you know?”
“Maybe we should get a swear jar,” Celia suggested.
“Naw,” Jake said. “Ted would end up owing us money by the time we were done with the albums.”
“What did you think of Time Out?” Laura asked Jake.
“Time Out?” Ted asked, happily. “You hit him with the Brewster, Laura? Goddamn! That’s going for the old jugular right there.”
“You’re familiar with Dave Brubeck?” Laura asked him.
“Hell to the yeah!” Ted said. “That is a sweet fuh ... uh ... freakin’ cut of vinyl there. I used to play that back in my session days just for the fun of it. The Brewster can lay down some serious cool.”
“Agree,” said Ben. “We used to play Take Five and Pick Up Sticks back when we were in the jazz band. Remember, Laura?”
“I remember,” she said. “It’s one of my favorite jazz albums. That’s why I gave it to Jake.” She looked at him. “So?”
“I liked it,” Jake said. “The music flowed quite nicely. The arrangement was well thought out and meshed together in a manner I hope to emulate. And the engineering, such as it was, was actually astonishing considering the live to tape studio technique it had to have been recorded under. I’m really looking forward to hearing it again tonight.”
“It’ll grow on you,” Laura told him with a smile. “I promise.”
“Things have a way of doing that,” Jake said, returning her smile with one of his own, a definite flirty tease in his eyes. He obviously meant that statement in more than the literal sense.
Laura picked up on this. Her blush was quite easy to see thanks to her fair skin. She did not look the least bit embarrassed, however. She actually giggled—the first time any of them had ever heard such as sound emit from her mouth.
Celia felt that little stab of jealousy again and forced herself to push it deep. What the hell? she thought again, mentally shaking her head at herself.
They ate their breakfasts and then went about the ritual of cleaning up. With nine of them pitching in, it didn’t take long. Celia then went upstairs to take her shower and get ready for the long, grinding day of retake after retake. She was hoping they would at least finish up Games today and move on to setting up for Struggle, which they planned to do next, but she knew her hopes were probably in vain.
As she soaped and rinsed herself under the spray in the oversized shower, she found herself pondering that little connection that seemed to be developing between Jake and Laura again. On the surface, it seemed like just friendliness, the formation of a bond between two musicians who were learning to respect each other. But was that all there was? The fact that the two of them had been in the hot tub together while she had been talking to Pauline the night before had not escaped her notice. What was that all about? And why was she even thinking about this? If there was some sort of quasi-romantic chemistry forming between those two, what business was it of hers? None, of course. She was a happily married woman. True, she had some feelings for Jake—always had since that night they’d played together in his house—but that was just simple affection and respect. It was nothing that should be causing twinges of jealousy in her. Right? Of course right!