Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 35

It had been a long time since Ann had been forced to rouse her son. It was 8:30 and they would have to leave in an hour in order to get to Lexington Memorial by ten AM. She tiptoed into Kevin and Tristan's bedroom and stood for a moment watching the couple sleep. She knew she was intruding but she couldn't seem to help herself. Morning light had not yet invaded the rooms on this side of the house and she found herself saying a silent prayer that Tristan's examination would go well and that she and Kevin could find some small measure of peace to get them through the turmoil yet to come.

It was hard for Ann to believe that these two people were married and about to become parents. They both looked so young lying there. She had often taken a few moments to watch her children sleep when she could. It was a type of guilty pleasure that only a parent can appreciate especially when the children were grown. Kevin looked so vulnerable. His arm was wrapped around Tristan and she looked like she was hanging on to him for dear life. She knew that when she woke him, the mask would go back on. The defensiveness that served as a shield between him and the press, the label, his insecurities - and even his own brother - would awake with him.

She was having some difficulty reconciling the fact that her sleeping baby had been pictured with a joint. Ann wasn’t stupid. She had been around during the era of psychedelia, hippies and pot. Still, her own upbringing forbade her to approve this indulgence. She knew that drugs were prevalent in the music business and on some level even suspected that the dear, sweet Backstreet Boys were not completely innocent, but to see a picture of her son smoking what was obviously marijuana…. Well, it had upset her to say the least. Reports on the internet had pooh-poohed the picture, saying that it wasn’t what it looked like, that the picture had been retouched in order to incriminate Kevin or that it wasn’t Kevin at all. The photograph had been taken in a dimly lit room from a questionable angle. Still, Ann knew that the man in the picture was her son. The furor she had expected didn’t happen. Jackie hadn’t even called to comment on Kevin’s slow journey to the gates of hell. Of course, Jackie wasn’t in much of a position to be sanctimonious. Brian had been photographed with the devil himself. Ann had a feeling that the church pew was going to seem more uncomfortable than usual this Sunday.

She grabbed Kevin's exposed foot and shook it gently, eliciting groans of protest from her exhausted son.

"It's 8:30, Kevin… Better get up."

His eyes open slowly as his brain began to work. It wasn't hard to tell when consciousness set in. Kevin's eyes suddenly widened and his head jerked around to Tristan. She slept on, oblivious to Kevin's desultory examination.

"She sleep okay?" Ann whispered. Kevin nodded in response. "I'll go downstairs and get breakfast going. Don't be long…"

Kevin hated to wake Tristan, partly because he felt like she needed the rest and partly because he was scared to death that something might have happened in the night - something he was unaware of - and that she might be worse this morning. He shook her shoulder gently and she awoke fairly easily, especially when she saw the look on Kevin’s face. Worry lines creased his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Tristan cried as she pulled herself up to a sitting position.

Kevin’s movements mirrored hers as he sat up with her. “Nothing.” he said, shaking his head. “How do you feel?” He studied her eyes as best he could. They looked normal.

“I’m fine, Kevin. What’s the matter with you?” She glanced at the clock beside the bed. “It’s barely 8:30. What are you doing up?” Her hand moved to his face. Kevin felt some relief when he saw that it was her left hand. “Are you feeling bad or something? Do you have a fever?”

"No…no, Tris, I'm fine…"

Tristan didn't seem all that convinced. Kevin's next question increased her worry.

"Do…do you know where we are, Tris?"

Dear Lord… "Don't you know where we are, sweetie?" she asked softly, brushing his hair back from his face with her fingers. "I think you must be suffering from a bad case of jet lag. Why don't you go back to sleep?"

Kevin sighed deeply as he tried to figure out how to handle this tangled conversation. He didn't want to scare her but they had to get to the hospital soon and she needed to understand why they were going.

"Do you remember Dr. Fisher coming by here to see you last night, Tris?"

She looked confused for a moment and then she nodded. "I remember, I think… I was so tired. Last night's kind of a blur. Why was he here?"

"He was here because I asked Mom to get him over here…" Kevin spoke gently, rubbing Tristan's arm. "You were… confused. Your blood pressure was up. I was concerned and thought he should come. He wants you to have a CAT scan this morning. He's meeting us at the hospital.."

Kevin expected a protest or at least a question but he didn't get either. Tristan just nodded at him and waited for him to continue.

"You seemed a little disoriented. Dr. Fisher said that was because of your blood pressure. The CAT scan is routine, he said. They just want to make sure everything's okay and maybe change your medication."

Tristan seemed to accept Kevin's sketchy explanation. She knew him well enough to know that he didn't want to frighten her. That was why he had never told her about the eclampsia. She would have to get the full story from the doctors. When she climbed out of bed she saw that the paper which contained a brief history of her pressure readings was lying on top of the dresser. She studied it briefly and went to the shower knowing that this would be a morning of few words and much waiting.

*****

Dr. Malone saw the call button light up on his telephone. He knew who it was. He had already had an early call from Dr. Fisher in Kentucky and suspected that this was 'the father to be'. He was right.

His receptionist peeped into his office. ‘Kevin Richardson on line 2.” Then, as an afterthought, “He sounds a little upset…”

Kevin had grabbed the phone as soon as Tristan had closed the bathroom door. He was demanding a second opinion. What he really wanted was assurance that this wasn't some critical life-threatening event. Dr. Malone let him unload and then confirmed Dr. Fisher's diagnosis.

“He’s a good man, Kevin. I would have told you the same things he has. I’ve changed Tristan’s meds and I’m sending a copy of her file to him. She should have a doctor in Kentucky and I’m recommending him.”

Kevin frowned on the other end of the line. “He’s not a specialist…”

“He knows his stuff, Kevin..” Dr. Malone sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Fisher can monitor her pressure and protein levels…”

“She needs a specialist…”

“What she needs is to stop flying around the world, Kevin!” he said impatiently. “That kind of travel creates unnecessary stress and you, of all people, should know that!”

“I didn’t know she was coming over..” Kevin argued. “How did you find out? Did Fisher tell you?”

“No. He didn’t have to. She didn’t show for her appointment last week. When Carol called your house, your brother answered the phone and said she had gone to Europe. Now I don’t know what made her decide she had to fly over there. I’m assuming she must have had a damn good reason - at least I hope it was a damn good reason. Anyway, Fisher will send me her test results. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about - this time.” The doctor paused for a moment before pushing Kevin’s grossly inadequate comfort threshold. “So how does Tristan seem this morning?”

“Okay. I don’t think she really knows what happened.”

“That’s pretty normal.” Dr Malone assured him. “Any other…uh..concerns?

“No. I don’t think so…”

“Tristan’s gotten bigger….”

Kevin began to squirm, fearful of where these comments were leading.

“Yeeeaaah?”

“So, I’m assuming from what she’s said that your….umm..martial relations … are relatively problem free.”

Kevin bristled. “You asked her about our sex life? And what do you mean by ‘relatively’ problem free?”

Dr. Malone rolled his eyes. At least he’d gotten Kevin’s mind off the TIA.

“Just an expression, Kevin. Tristan had no complaints.” The doctor grinned at Kevin’s reaction and decided to tease a little. “In fact she said that you were pretty good. Much better than any of those ‘Nsync guys….”

“Oh - well that makes me feel much better…” Kevin growled sarcastically.

Dr. Malone started laughing into the phone. “Lighten up, Daddy! You know I’m just teasing you…”

“Great…” Kevin mumbled. “Our doctor is a comedian…”

“Okay, okay…” Dr. Malone chuckled. “Bad joke. But seriously, you haven’t had any …problems, have you?”

“What?.. Me?… I haven’t had any problems! Why do think I’ve had problems?” he asked irritably. “There’s nothing wrong with me! ”

Dr. Malone’s eyes rolled again. “I’m not talking about your plumbing, Kevin! I’m sure that everything is in perfect working order….”

“Damn straight!”

“….I was referring to any other concerns you might have. We talked a little about this before, remember? Happy daddies make for happy mommies…”

“I’m fucking happy, God dammit!”

“Good! I’ll let you get to the hospital. Call me anytime, about anything. Oh, and Kevin? Just remember what I told you about breaking records…”

*****

They didn't have to wait at the hospital very long. Tristan was taken in to see the neurologist quickly. It was apparent that hospital personnel had been forewarned that the 'husband might be a problem'. Malone had told Fisher that Kevin was a little overly concerned. Any husband would be concerned and worried but the phrase was actually doctor lingo for 'hovering, nervous and anxiety-ridden'. Fisher had passed the word on to the neurologist who had told his staff who had warned nuclear medicine. Kevin didn't know that his nickname - 'Train' - had been unofficially changed to 'Train Wreck'. When he tried to follow Tristan into the neurological examination room, a very large and somewhat frightening nurse had intercepted him. His protests were useless. Kevin guessed that her name was 'Nurse Don'tfuckwithme'. The same thing had happened when Tristan was called in for her CAT scan. The technician sarcastically explained to Kevin that two bodies couldn't be scanned at one time and that he would have to wait outside.

Ann had accompanied the couple to the hospital and had no comments about Kevin's behavior up until the CAT scan episode.

"Kevin, I thought you were interested in having an acting career one day.."

Kevin turned to mother, puzzled by her statement. It seemed to have come out of left field. Maybe she was trying to distract him.

"I am…" he answered.

"Well dear, why don't you start sharpening your skills now and act like you're sane…"

"What?" he scowled.

"You're being a pain in the fanny. It's embarrassing."

The scan results were rushed through and the results were good. There was no sign of clots or any other stroke-inducing problem. Her left hand was still a little weak but a therapist had given her exercises to do and had encouraged her to play the piano often. They didn't believe the weakness was a permanent condition. Tristan was given instructions by the neurologist and Dr. Fisher and she received a new prescription. They were back home by one-thirty.

As soon as they got back home, Kevin went into his office to call Dr. Malone. His reassurance was required so Kevin proceeded to repeat, in great detail, every event and conversation that had transpired at the hospital. Ann and Tristan sat at the kitchen table and shared a pitcher of iced tea and a bag of Orange Milano cookies.

"Where did he go?" Ann asked as she brushed cookie crumbs off of her lips.

Tristan reached into the bad for a second Milano. "He's probably calling Dr. Malone in Florida. You know, bugging him to make sure they're doing everything right up here…"

"Oh, brother…" Ann sighed shaking her head. She made an effort to defend his need to be reassured. "He was pretty scared, Tris. Frankly, I was too.."

Tristan nodded in understanding and absently twirled her ice with her finger. She started to chuckle.

"What do you think he's going to do when I go into labor?" she giggled.

Ann stared at her for a moment. Her lips formed a smile that quickly turned into a laugh. "I don't know, but if he's anything like his father was, you'd be better off not telling him when the time comes. Just do yourself a favor and disappear! Go squat in the fields like the Indians used to do and come on back home after it's all over!" Ann paused and then nodded with authority. "There was a reason that doctors used to tell men to go boil water when their wives were ready to give birth - and it wasn't so they could sterilize anything. It was to get them out of the way. Watched pots never boil - remember?"

CHAPTER 36

A building crew had been hard at work all week. Although Kevin and Tristan had discussed making additions to the log house, Tristan - for the most part - had left the particulars to Kevin. He seemed to enjoy the planning and she was happy to let him handle it. He hadn't kept her in the dark, exactly, but as she looked through the kitchen window to the back of the house, she realized that she should have asked more questions.

They had discussed stain colors, tiles and fixtures and had agreed on most of the details. Tristan's mistake had been in assuming that Kevin was adding on two bedrooms and a bath which would have upgraded their Kentucky home to a four bedroom, two and a half bath structure. They had agreed to postpone any discussion about a pool. The idea of an inground swimming pool made Tristan uneasy but Kevin had grown used to that luxury. She had argued that they had a three hundred-acre lake at their front door and didn't need a pool. Kevin had not given in but had agreed to wait a couple of years before considering the project again.

Tristan's assumptions about Kevin's plans for the house had been true and false. It was true that they would have extra bedrooms. What was false was her thinking that there would only be two and nothing more. As she gazed out of the kitchen window, she noted that their backyard had become, in effect, a courtyard of sorts. Two huge wings had gone up at each end of the house, placed perpendicular to the original structure. The square footage involved was at least equal to all three floors of their home.

She could see Kevin through a window in the 'south wing' arguing with one of the workers. He would point at something and shake his head. Tristan supposed that The Captain had felt a need to commandeer a new army since his musical one was on furlough. Kevin disappeared from view and a few minutes later reappeared in the kitchen. He had on work gloves and a tool belt and he was carrying a rolled up set of blueprints. He was a happy camper.

"They're going to re-stain the logs so they match the main house better. Shingles, too. You'll never know that the additions weren't part of the original house…"

"Kevin…," Tristan began cautiously, "…these two bedrooms are going to be kinda big, aren't they?"

She was trying to be careful not to deflate his enthusiasm but she really didn't understand what he was doing. Kevin laughed as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a Corona.

"The rooms are big, Tris, but not that big. I just thought that, since we were adding on anyway, we might as well do it right. We're putting in five bedrooms." "FIVE? That'll give us seven bedrooms!"

"That's right, babe… We'll probably have more kids, don't 'ya think?" His expression had gone into puppy-dog mode.

Tristan frowned. "Why don't we try these two out first and see if we like them… Besides, that's still a lot of building, even for five bedrooms."

"And three baths.." Kevin added.

"Still…."

Kevin sighed and walked over to the kitchen island where he carefully unrolled the blueprints and anchored the corners down with the salt and peppershakers, a potted plant and a spoon rest.

"Look. Here are the bedrooms and baths…" Kevin pointed to the plan and counted them off. "Then I though we'd expand a little off of our bedroom. Put in a hot tub for two…" Kevin looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows at this revelation. "….and an upper level porch and maybe a sitting area with a fireplace. Then down hre we have two more bedrooms that share a bath."

He rolled back the top sheet of paper and began explaining the markings on the second sheet.

"Okay, here are three more bedrooms and two baths on the upper floor. That'll give us four and three on this side of the house. Then, below the bedrooms, on the first floor, we have a media room…"

"Media room?" Tristan interrupted.

"Yeah - you know…" he said, rolling his eyes, "…Wide screen TV, plush seats, stereo sound - the works." He looked back down at the plans. "And this is a playroom for the kids."

"What about these two rooms at the end?" Tristan asked.

"Laundry room." Kevin nodded, very pleased with himself for thinking to include it in the plans. "And an office for you."

"An office for me? Why do I need an office?"

"You do, hon. Believe me. You have bunches of shit - contracts, music and stuff. Now we'll have kid stuff to keep track of, too. Plus, you can keep your computer in there."

"Why can't I use your office and computer?"

Kevin winced. The fact was that Tristan was a little too disorganized for him. He'd seen her piles of papers and files scattered across tables before. It would drive him crazy. She mixed paper clips in with the rubber bands and had Post-It notes stuck on everything. Every time he went to look for a stamp, they were in a different place.

"Well, I just thought you'd like your own 'get-away' space, that's all."

"You think I'm a slob…."

"I didn't say that…"

"Humph…"

Tristan shook her head. Kevin hadn't even mentioned the addition that was also going up next to the workshop. He was building a garage, too. She was about to say something sarcastic about an indoor bowling alley but thought better of it. It was far too late to make any real changes and besides, why rain on his parade? This was fun for him. He was looking at her expectantly. He needed a pet.

Actually, he looked pretty good standing there in his raggedy jeans and wifebeater. His hair was a little damp, like his skin. Hmmm…Kevin, the construction worker… Tristan's thoughts about the house shifted as her imagination moved into second gear. She suddenly felt frisky.

"I like your tool belt, Kevin…"

Kevin glanced down at his waist. "Yeah, I got it at the Farm and Home Supply. It's got all kinds of places for tools and stuff."

Tristan paused and leaned provocatively against the dishwasher. "You've only got one tool that interests me, sweetie… and I don't see it hanging on that belt…"

Kevin stopped and slowly turned his head, making sure he had understood Tristan's implication. His eyebrows shot up under his displaced bangs. This was certainly unexpected. Tristan continued to play with the double entendre.

"I'm already aware that you know how to hammer quite well…"

Her eyes had darkened. Kevin watched as her tongue appeared and brushed over her lower lip. It was eleven o' clock in the morning and the place was crawling with workmen. Nevertheless, Kevin felt a sharp tightening in his groin. Tristan was seducing him and he was mesmerized by the possibilities.

"The house is full of carpenters…" Kevin whispered huskily.

Tristan smiled and sashayed over to him. She looked down at the belt and ran her finger down the red handle of a ratcheted screwdriver before pulling it free from the leather loop. She examined it carefully and then rubbed the cool metal shaft down the side of her face and across her lips before tossing it over her shoulder onto the floor. She could hear Kevin breathing.

"You don't really need that thing to screw, do you Kevin?" Her eyes held a familiar sparkle. "I think this one works just fine and it's a perfect fit."

Tristan's hand was suddenly under the belt. She grabbed the thickening mass that had filled Kevin's jeans, surprising him and causing him to fall back a step with an 'Oomph!'. He had been staring into her eyes when she made her surprise attack on his manhood and Kevin found himself thoroughly turned on by her assertiveness under less than desirable conditions. She pulled him down by his shirt and began to plant tiny kisses on his damp collarbone as her hands continued to rub the denim covering his bulge, creating a delicious heat that left little room for thoughts of blueprints or light fixtures.

"Tristan…" Kevin groaned, "…the workers…"

"Come on, baby… "she whispered against his chest. "They could probably learn a lot from you about the proper way to nail…"

That did it. Kevin grabbed Tristan by the arm and began pulling her through the house, trying to find a place that was private. Workmen were all over the place. Finally, they went to the stairs and stumbled down to the English basement and into his office. The small, high windows that were set into three of the walls were uncovered. Kevin could see the feet and ankles of builders meandering past the glass. He discovered that he didn't really care. In fact, it was a little exciting to have people near and for them to be inches away from discovery. Tristan didn't seem to be bothered by this, either.

Their joining was fast and furious - without foreplay and too frenzied to be considered playful. Kevin saw one of the crew begin to stoop outside of a window and he wondered if they would be 'caught'. They both climaxed quickly and then rolled apart on the carpet, hardly able to breathe as they alternately groaned and laughed together.

"Mister Richardson?"

The voice came from the top of the stairs - the foreman.

God Damn! "I'm coming!" Kevin shouted as be tried to sit up.

"Again?" Tristan laughed.

Kevin pulled her up, adjusted his jeans and grabbed the tool belt, tying it securely. As he straightened his shirt, Tristan crawled around on her knees, searching for her tossed panties and giggling.

"Do you want me to come down?" the foreman shouted.

"NO! No, I'll be right there!" Kevin cried. "You all right, baby?" he asked, turning to Tristan.

She was trying to step into her panties but her giggling made it difficult. "I'm great, Kevin…" she laughed. "Go on up. I'll be right behind you…."

Her panties dropped back down to her ankles as Kevin grabbed her shoulders and planted a kiss on her lips. Then he ran out of the room and up the steps to meet the man who was in charge of the building crew. He had some questions about grout color but he couldn't help but notice that Kevin was covered in perspiration. He looked at Kevin oddly, glancing down at his jeans and then back up to his face. The homeowner seemed a little flushed.

"Don't ya'll have any AC down there?" he asked pointing down the stairs. "It's too damn hot to be working down there with no AC…"

"I'm finished.." Kevin shrugged self-consciously.

The foreman was still checking Kevin out. "You sure you don't need any help down there?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, really…."

"You sure you're all right, Mr. Richardson?"

"Yes, Mac. I'm sure." Kevin was getting a little irritated by this cross-examination.

Mac started to leave but turned back one more time and looked Kevin over again, frowning.

"What?" Kevin shouted.

Mac shuffled his feet a little and cleared his throat. "Uh… You're supposed to wear that belt so that the tools are facing away from your body…"

*****

"Hey, Kev. Whassup?"

Kevin was surprised to hear Nick on the other end of the line - surprised but pleased. None of the others would have evoked the same reaction. It wasn't that he didn't care about the others but, on some level, Kevin had always tended to worry a little more about Nick. He knew that there must have been fallout for him about the 'Reputations' spread and he had called Nick over a week ago to see how things were going for him and Holly. When Nick hadn't returned his call in a timely fashion he had called the guys, trying to check up on him. When none of the guys knew anything about Nick or where he was, Kevin had resorted to calling Jane. He didn't want to talk to Jane. He didn't like Jane. They had had more than one run-in over the years about Nick's welfare - more than Nick even knew. Kevin had to call her house but Aaron was the one he'd wanted to talk to. Nick would let the kid know where he was. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it, Angel answered the phone. Angel had a twelve-year-olds lust for Kevin - or AJ, depending on what week it was. A year ago, she had been all giggles and nerves, but lately she had become downright bold and sassy.

"Oh, Kevvy…" she purred. "You're soooo sweet to call…"

Kevin rolled his eyes and had to smile in spite of himself. He could just picture her on the other end of the line, purring into the phone though her braces, trying to sound sophisticated and sexy.

"Hello, Angel. Aaron around there anywhere?"

"Oh. Just a minute…"

Kevin could hear her calling to her brother and fussing with him to hurry up. Aaron seemed reluctant to come to the phone. Finally, he picked up.

"I didn't do nothing, Kev! Honest!"

It took Kevin a minute or two to assure Aaron that he wasn't in any trouble. Old memories had resurfaced at Aaron's declaration of innocence. He could remember a very young Nick shouting the same words. Aaron had readily given up Nick's whereabouts but Kevin had been made to promise that he wouldn't tell their mother. Fat chance…

At any rate, Nick had just gotten home from his and Holly's brief excursion to Trinidad. It had been a good place for a short escape.

"How bad has it been, Nick?" Kevin asked seriously.

"Not catastrophic.." he answered. "To tell you the truth, I think that there was so much other shit printed, it kinda took some of the spotlight away, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah. I'm afraid I do…."

Nick hesitated before he ventured farther. "Listen, Kev… you're doing okay, aren't you? I mean… you're not in any…. trouble or anything, are you?"

"No."

Kevin had cut off the innuendo. The topic was closed. Nick was almost relieved. He didn't think that Kevin was in trouble. Not really. He just wanted to put Holly's mind at ease, that's all. Nick had developed into a master of denial. They all had. No way Kev would be messin' with that stuff… Not Kev… The gutter seemed so far away when you were sitting on top of the mountain. Nick proceeded to move the conversation forward.

"Have you seen this week's 'Reputations'?"

Kevin cringed. What else could they possibly print?

"No. Do I want to see it?" he asked sarcastically.

"We're not in it…."

Kevin couldn't believe his ears. There must be some mistake.

"Kev? You there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here.." he said trying to savor his relief. "I wonder why not? I thought we were on their permanent menu."

The story was incredibly simple and surprising. The same thing that had propelled the expose originally was the same thing that brought it to a halt. Nick had just gotten the story from AJ and said that he would pass it along to Kevin. AJ had gotten the story from Jeffrey. Management did not have the power to stop the presses but they could buy information as to motive.

Jeffrey had gone to work on this when the group returned from Sweden. He had some investigative work done on Raymond Whay first and knew that the man had been in financial trouble. He had also been in professional trouble and had been in danger of losing his job. Enter one Charles Mancuso who had the goods to create a sensation and propel the sales and advertising revenue of 'Reputations'. Short story - sales had dropped and subscriptions had been canceled. Fans had been pissed at the deviousness of it all. The boys had been given no room for comment, explanation, confirmation or denial. The magazine had gone too far, especially when it started including wives and girlfriends in the trash.

The publication had grossly miscalculated reader response based on last years 'whore' issue. Surreptitious photographs were one thing but malicious innuendo with no proof was something else. Awful as it had been, the 'whore' issue had based its findings on undeniable fact. Whether you believed those facts defined the meaning of the word 'whore' was another question. These recent spreads had been easily seen for what they were - blood and dollar sucking crap. Advertisers had withdrawn and there was now some question as to whether or not the magazine would even survive.

Whay had been one of the first to go and Mancuso was close behind. Whay had relied on photographs and that had been his first mistake. He should have done his legwork. Research first - pictures later. He was just in too much of a hurry. He was a little too desperate. The candids could have been a gold mine. There were stories there but Whay hadn't taken the time to dig for them and now the magazine had been discredited. When Jeffrey got the full story, he had demanded a public apology on the group's behalf. Many readers were demanding one, also. There would probably be no apology but there would be no more spreads either.

Kevin was stunned by the news. He had been bracing himself for another attack. Although the magazine had, essentially, shot itself in the foot, Kevin felt a debt of gratitude towards Jeffrey for following through on the problem and finding some answers. He was also extremely thankful to the fans. His usual greeting - 'Thank you for your love and support' - had almost become no more than an automatic response. He would have to change that.

Email Grace

"Circling" is a work of fiction.
The characters and events portrayed are fictitious.
Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

Copyright ©2000
All Rights Reserved
No part of this text may be copied or reprinted
without the author's permission.

  Direct linking to stories on this site without permission is prohibited and considered copyright infringement

~BEST VIEWED ON 800 X 600 SCREEN RESOLUTION~

Fiction by Grace