“Tell me about your children.”
“Well, Nellie has her master’s degree in Information Science and is an archivist and historian for the State of Hawaii. Lance is finishing up his doctorate in marine biology and now works for the Navy’s Marine Mammal Program, working with the dolphins and seals in Point Loma, California, but travels widely – and doesn’t talk much about it. They both have steady significant others, despite my prodding to get married, but no grandchildren – yet. That would make me feel a little old.” Nathan chuckled at Ariana’s fascinated look. He took a deep breath, started to speak, and then looked away. His voice was a little strained as he continued. “Carolyn died in a car accident about three years ago. The trucking company kept a driver with a known substance abuse problem and numerous accidents; sister-in-law of one of the owners, or something. Carolyn was brain dead but I wouldn’t let them ‘pull the plug’ for a week. I gave in when even her mother told me I should let go.” The deep breath was just a tiny bit shaky. “The kids were out of the house. The light had gone out of my life. I became a major league workaholic.” He glanced at her again, the pain obvious in his eyes. “Two months later a friend of mine practically dragged me out of my office and to the Madri-Gals first concert in Honolulu. You came out and sang, ‘My Heart Will Go On,’ and – and – all the flood gates opened and I cried. For months I had been in such a state of shock that I couldn’t even start grieving. Your singing threw me an emotional lifeline I badly needed. I bought tickets for the second and third performances. Center section, three rows back, and I was the first one on my feet for every standing ovation.” He looked at her, his wry smile incredibly shaded with shyness. “After that, the Madri-Gals went on to Tokyo and I went back to martial arts and beach bumming, and I turned out to be even more productive at work than when I tried to hide in it 18 or 20 hours a day.” He chuckled. “And I immediately registered domain www.arianacollins.com and started your on-line fan forum.”
Ariana had been thinking about crazy fans. “That surprised me. Marie encouraged me to go on-line ta expand me fan base, or some such, and then I found the obvious name already taken.”
“When I got your e-mail, I couldn’t believe it was really from you.” He grinned at her; a boyish, winning, devil-may-care grin that could steal fire from the gods, and then sell it back at a profit. “I wish I had recorded my expression when you SKYPE’d with me and I saw it WAS you. I think I felt somewhere between a little kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and a mountain-climber getting hit by lightning. I did offer to turn the domain over to you.”
“You had done such a wonderful job on the site, I was quite flattered. And that meant I didn’t have to worry about administering anything.” She chuckled. “I am not really that comfortable with computers. I rely a lot on Marie fer anthin other than e-mail.”
“Well, I try not to be one of those stereotype computer geeks — overweight, under-exercised and unaware of the ‘real’ world. I even competed in the last Hawaiian Iron Man competition, after listening to you sing, of course.”
“Really? Did ya win?”
His eyes twinkled most mischievously. “No, but I wasn’t that far back in the pack.”
They had gotten all of the clues, which turned out to be puzzle pieces, solved the puzzle, which had turned out to be a series of riddles, and gotten through the Air, Earth, Water and Fire challenges, using their Express Pass to get them through an exceptionally difficult Fire challenge. They had been Team Number One by only a hundred meters. The troupe had cheered and made the obligatory congratulations about nine of nine times, and then they had headed off to the buses.
Linnae roused her, and she woke with a start to find a nearly full cup of cold tea still cradled in her hands. She glanced around the bus’s living room. Lavender was asleep on the couch, with a quilt made by her grandmother wrapped around her. Marie was turning off the television. And Cassie was coming out of the bathroom, and slipping into her privacy bunk. As she stood up, Ariana felt a sudden need, and hurried to the temporarily vacant bathroom.
As she stepped through the door she heard Marie’s voice; “Well, weren’t the two of you cozy on tha flight?”
She spun around. “Wha do you mean?”
“All cuddled up on the flight together; twas such a peaceful sight.” If she hadn’t known Marie for years, she might have mistaken it for a casual remark. But before she could respond, Marie had clicked shut her own privacy door.
Once safe inside her bunk, Ariana checked her e-mail. There was an e-mail from Nathan with attachment; undoubtedly the next chapter. She felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t responded at all when he had so obviously put in so much effort on the project. And he was a fine writer. She told herself that she had no time, and certainly not enough skill, to write matching chapters of the quality Nathan’s deserved. She opened the e-mail – to find the usual bland, chatty fan forum news and nothing else. She resolutely archived the missive and then opened an e-mail from her agent: *Call me. Time doesn’t matter.*
She called, and didn’t even have a chance to talking before the voice poured out like water from a bursting dam. “Ariana, the other shoe has dropped. The producers are willing to NOT air the slap after the kiss, not release the recording in any way, and inform all concerned that it falls under the non-disclosure portion of their contracts. In exchange, they want your release of some scene recorded at the airport as you were leaving which occurred after the time period covered by the regular release. They said that the narration will indicate that the race ran long and that you had to rush to catch your flight before you could say goodbye to Nathan, so the crew raced across Alexandria to get to the airport. Oh, by the way, what did happen at the airport?”