Five

“Shit, Cheryl,” Hath said.

“I know,” she answered, not able to tear her eyes away from where Jon disappeared from view.

“Fuck, Cheryl,” Sam added.

“I KNOW!” Cheryl yelled. “Oh GOD, what am I doing?”

Sam put her arm around Cheryl’s shoulder and squeezed. “Living the dream, babe.”

“Oh I know, but damn it,” she looked down at her wedding ring.

“Don’t,” Hath said. “Don’t think about it. Don’t think about HIM. Don’t over-analyze.”

“I agree,” Sam said. “Don’t think, just do. And do it twice, once for me.”

Cheryl laughed. “You guys are terrible. But I love you. Oh my GOD, is this really happening? Am I dreaming?”

Hath reached over to pinch Cheryl’s ass. When she yelled indignantly, Hath laughed. “Nope, wide wake, babe. Go. Text us if we shouldn’t come out. We’ll text you when we’re leaving.”

Stunned, Cheryl started to follow in Jon’s wake.

When she was gone, the two women went back in to join the party. They found Obie at the bar, talking to someone on the phone. “Yeah I need a ride.” He paused to let the other party speak. “Why do you think?” Another pause, then dirty laughter. “Yeah, and no, not her; her friend.” Pause. “Well, shit, you’re useless then. No, no, I’ll figure something out.” He closed his phone. “Fuck,” he said.

“Problem?” Hath asked him, sitting on the stool next to him.

“My ride’s had a few, and Jon has my car,” Obie scowled at his glass and downed the dregs of his whiskey.

Sam sat on Obie’s other side. “Darlin’, you’re in luck,” she said. “We just so happen to have an extra seat in our limo. We’d be happy to take you wherever you have to go. But we have to stay to close the place,” she said wickedly.

Obie laughed. “I’m up for it if you are.”

*******

Outside, Jon was lounging against the side of the building when Cheryl came out. “Everything alright with your friends, there, Cheryl?” His smirk was visible, even in the dim light cast by the bar’s signs.

Cheryl took a deep breath. “I guess that depends on what you mean by ‘alright’,” she said. “They’re just being good friends is all.”

Jon nodded. He knew a thing or two about well-meaning friends. “So,” Jon said.

“So,” Cheryl agreed. “Listen, I don’t want you to feel obligated—”

Jon cut her off. “Obligated?” He laughed. “Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to be here, I’d be gone already. I want to be here.” He pushed back from the wall and approached Cheryl. “With you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure you want to be here with me?” He trailed a hand down her arm to take her left hand, fingering her wedding ring.

Cheryl watched Jon’s fingers play with her ring. Jon watched Cheryl’s face, and saw the play of emotions in her eyes. “Hey,” he said. “No harm, no foul, right? We can just go have coffee or something.”

That made Cheryl laugh hard. She laughed until tears streamed down her face. “God, I’m sorry, Jon, I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just...” She tried to get control of herself. “This is just so AHH! damned surreal, you know? We girls all play the ‘what if’ game, and I guess,” she took a big gulp of air, “I guess I never really expected to be asked to play for real.”

Jon nodded. “So there’s the real question then,” he said softly. “Do you want to play the ‘what if’ game for real?”

Cheryl turned red, but didn’t pull her hand away from Jon’s. “Yes,” she said. “I do.”

“Walk with me,” Jon said. He turned, still holding Cheryl’s hand, and smiled at her. She walked alongside him through the parking lot, until they came to the spot where Obie had parked his Explorer. He leaned against the driver’s door, and pulled Cheryl to him, winding his arms around her waist. “What if I told you,” Jon began, “that I wanted to be alone with you?”

Cheryl took a steadying breath and smiled. She could feel the evidence of that pressing into her thigh. Looking around, she said, “I’d say you already accomplished that goal.”

Jon chuckled. “Ok then, what if I told you I wanted to be alone and naked with you?”

A slight gasp slipped through Cheryl’s lips. Do or die time, she thought. “I’d say it’s way too cold for that here, and we should go someplace decidedly warmer and far more private.” Jon just raised an eyebrow, for she didn’t really answer the question. “But I would tell you honestly that I wanted that too.”

Jon smiled and leaned in to give Cheryl a gentle kiss. “Where should we go? I’m staying with Rich, and don’t really want to go back to his place. We can go get a hotel room, or...”

Cheryl picked up where he trailed off. “Or, we could go to my place on LBI. That’s what Hath and Sam were talking about. They’re all out here for the week.”

“All?” Jon asked.

“Yes, Hath, Sam, Tara, and Queenie. All.” She fidgeted with the collar of Jon’s shirt. “All their stuff is at the house; it’s not really fair to make them go somewhere else when they flew in from all over the place to be here…”

“Then,” Jon said, nuzzling Cheryl’s neck, “I guess we’d better get a move on.” He checked his watch. “Last call is in about four hours. It’s what, an hour’s drive out there?”

“Forty five minutes at this time of night if you have a lead foot,” Cheryl said, giggling.

“That’s my kind of thinking,” Jon said. He walked her around to the passenger side, opened the door and handed her up into her seat. He smiled a heart-breaking smile at her before shutting the door and jogging around the front of the Ford to the driver’s door. As he clicked his seatbelt into place, he handed Cheryl the GPS. “Tell Jill where we need to go,” he said absently.

Cheryl started laughing. “Jill? Your little bitch is called Jill? So is Hath’s.”

Jon raised an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth as he started the truck. “Oh that’s a story right there. ‘Little bitch’?”

Cheryl blushed. While she dialed the house’s address into the machine, she told Jon about the wild ride the GPS took her, Hath, Samantha and another friend on when they were driving from Boston to New York for the Central Park show. Jon burst out laughing when she told him about the GPS putting Hath in the wrong lane on the bridge, and then having to make a side-trip to New Jersey, and having to pay $8 for the privilege of leaving.

Jon laughed. “Damn, no wonder she calls Jill a bitch. Sounds like you girls had a great time. The way you talk about them; you sound like pretty close friends.”

“We are,” Cheryl said. “The best.” She told him all about their weekend that started in Boston with the Fleet Center shows, and ended in New York. She laughed at his expression when she told him about sharing a bed with Sam one night, and Hath the next.

Jon heard something in her voice. “What is it? You sound like you’re trying to convince me that they’re really your friends.”

“We still playing ‘what if’?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“What if I told you that I hadn’t met either of those girls until that first night in Boston, and Tara and Queenie until this week?”

He shrugged. “I would say I was surprised that you all bonded so quickly, but I never really understood how women’s heads work, so who am I to judge? What’s the problem?”

Cheryl smiled. “Nothing,” she said. He got it. “Nothing at all. Just drive.”

A scant forty minutes later, they were pulling into the crushed-stone driveway of a spacious beach house. The house was a gorgeously weathered two-story with upper and lower porches and sat about fifty yards from the ocean.

They climbed the stairs onto the porch and sat on an old, creaky swing. Jon set it to swaying with a push of his foot.

“This is beautiful,” Jon said, looking out over the water, wrapping an arm around Cheryl’s shoulder.

“This place soothes me,” Cheryl said. “It’s my haven when I need to get away and think. I’ve been coming here for years. I have lots of good memories here.”

Jon smiled and stood up. Cheryl took his proffered hand and led him inside.