“Damn, you know me too well, kid,” he said, amused. Whatever his errand was, I didn’t think it would be truly terrible. He was my dad, after all.
“Fine,” I said. “Before or after groceries?”
“Not sure. I’ll ask Kiki and will let you know.”
Before I could try to get more out of him, he wandered off to help the guys on the crew load crates onto the truck.
“So much for that day off,” I said as I stood up and tossed more tape in the garbage.
“No kidding. If it’s the boys’ laundry, I’m out. He is not paying me enough to do teenage boys’ laundry. In fact, he could not pay me enough for that.”
“You and me both, sister.”
Sandy got up and brushed her hands off on her Wiretap shirt before she looked around. “Well, looks like we’re done here. Let’s go get some of that pizza before it’s just crusts.”
Spaaaaaahhhhhh
Kiki wouldn’t tell us where we were going, either; she said my father would kill her if she did. She must have given the driver directions when Sandy and I weren’t paying attention, because once we climbed back in the town car and got ourselves buckled in after dropping all the groceries off at the bus, he just pulled away and started driving without question.
So I had no idea where we were headed, which bothered the control freak in me more than I liked to admit. What I did know was that while Kiki, Sandy, and I had been in the grocery store, the driver had returned to the bus and had taken the boys to a local laundromat with their piles of clothes.
The three of us had gone first thing to get it out of the way, while the guys had still been sleeping, (because I did not want to be sitting in the laundromat with a group of grumpy boys grumbling about how they hated doing their laundry—the point of us having a day off was to get some time away from each other). At least they didn’t have to worry about their concert wardrobes—Kiki was on top of keeping those clothes clean and ready to go.
Laundry was not my favorite thing to do, either, but it felt good to have it done. Not that I had a lot of clothes on tour after joining so unexpectedly. But what I’d had on when I’d gotten on the bus that first night and the few things I’d bought along the way were now clean and folded, tucked into the end of my bunk.
Less than ten minutes after leaving the bus, we pulled into a strip plaza and I scanned all the stores for clues: pet food, bank, dollar store, pizza joint, framing shop, bookstore, drug store. I was just about to turn to Kiki and demand what the deal was when my eyes caught on the sign at the end and knew exactly where we were headed.
Because in that second, the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine beamed down on the Sunflowers Day Spa.
“Please tell me we are going to that spa,” Sandy said, her voice full of hope, echoing my own. “Please. For the love of all that is good and holy, please tell me that’s where we’re going. If you say no and that we’re going to that dollar store for combs or something, my heart will never recover.”
Kiki snorted. “We are going to the spa. Tony wanted to do something nice for the two of you who have been working so hard. Not to mention that I need things waxed, so...”
I glanced up into the mirror at the driver who had likely heard way worse things than a grown woman talking about getting waxed—he didn’t even bat an eyelash. Instead he pulled up to the curb and hopped out to get our door.
The three of us emerged from the back seat and I have to admit, I was way more excited about going to the spa than I should have been, especially when I didn’t even know what we were booked for. But I didn’t care. Whatever was in store was fine with me. It was decompression-don’t-have-to-think-about-anything me time. Much-needed decompression-don’t-have-to-think-about-anything me time.
“What time should I return?” the driver asked as he pushed the back door closed.
Kiki looked at her watch and her lips moved as she did the math. “Let’s say five o’clock and then we have time to return to the hotel to change. Then you can take us for dinner before we have to get back on the bus.”
I glanced at Sandy who looked just as shocked as I felt. “Kiki,” I said, wondering if she was just really bad at math. “It’s not even twelve-thirty.”
She gave me a lopsided smile. “Tony ordered the works for you girls. He says you’ve earned it and I agree.”
My throat closed up. I would always do a good job for the sake of doing a good job and would work my butt off for my dad, but that he’d noticed and wanted to reward us this way with the perfect day off, brought on a bunch of emotions that I hadn’t been expecting. Especially standing in the blazing sun on the sidewalk in a strip mall.
Kiki rolled her eyes. “Please. Stop gawking at me like that; let’s get inside.”
I nodded and stepped past her to grab the door, but didn’t miss the shine of tears in her eyes, too.
Hours later, after we’d been massaged, scrubbed, exfoliated, buffed, moisturized, and painted, we poured our loose and relaxed selves back into the town car that was waiting for us at the curb in front of the spa.
I’d been to spas before, but never for ‘the works’—salt scrub, full-body massage, mani, pedi, facial. A whole day at the spa had always felt like such a privileged, indulgent way to spend a day. But now, knowing I’d earned every single minute of the pampering, I totally understood and had allowed myself to let go and just enjoy it the way I was meant to.
I’d never felt so relaxed in my life—and not just physically, either, but my brain felt sort of mushy and empty, too, in the best way possible. I kind of wanted to climb into a crisp, clean bed (not a bunk in the morgue, either, but a real bed) and nap for a week. Unfortunately, that wasn’t part of the plan.
Even though it was part of our day off experience, I was dreading having to go to what would likely be (at my dad’s insistence) a fancy restaurant and sit upright when my entire body felt like a limp noodle.
Thankfully, Kiki must have felt the same or at least picked up on our mood and made an executive decision. “You know what? Let’s just go back to the hotel and get room service.” She looked at Sandy and me, though she needn’t have bothered because we were both in agreement, nodding at her perfect plan. She grabbed her phone and must have texted my father to that effect before she announced it was ‘done’ and slipped the phone back into her purse.
Once we returned to the hotel, Kiki followed us up to our room where all three of us sat on my bed. Sandy turned on the TV and flipped through channels while Kiki and I figured out our room service order (Sandy said just to get her a burger and fries with extra ketchup).
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said as Kiki picked up the phone to call in our order.
“Why don’t you take a bath?” Sandy suggested. “It’s going to take a while for the food.”
“I just want to get the massage oils and stuff off me. If I take a bath, I’ll pass out and drown.” It was meant as a joke, but after the relaxing day I’d had, I did have serious fears about slipping into unconsciousness in the tub.
“Didn’t they tell you to sit in a bath so your muscles don’t seize up?” she said, putting the remote down when she landed on some house-flipping show on HGTV.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh, trying my best not to whine. “I’m too tired now.” Though once I was back on the bus, it was back to a tiny shower stall.
“There’s a hot tub downstairs beside the pool,” she suggested.
“Shhhh!” Kiki said. “I’m trying to order food here.”
Sandy and I locked eyes and I nodded at her before I ducked into the bathroom and closed the door. A hot tub later before we had to climb on the bus sounded just about perfect.
“You know, for this being something of a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere, this hotel is really exceeding my expectations,” Sandy said some time later as we made our way to the elevator. Our flip-flops slapped our heels, echoing in the otherwise empt
y hallway.
We were due back on the bus at ten p.m. so we could roll out on the second leg to Boise overnight, but we were taking advantage of every minute of our time in the hotel and that meant using all of the facilities.
I smiled over at her, still feeling weird that she’d convinced me there was nothing wrong with going down to the pool in the robes we’d found in the guest room’s closet. We had bathing suits on underneath, but I still felt underdressed for public hallways. “It’s all relative. At this point anything would be better than the bus,” I pointed out.
“No, I’m talking about that burger; it was seriously really good,” she said, pressing the down button once we got to the elevators. “And I’m not talking room service at a Podunk hotel good, I’m talking stand on its own against decent restaurants good. I’m glad I took some video. This place is getting some free advertising courtesy of my Tube.”
I had to agree with her assessment of the food as I’d been just as impressed with my own meal (also a burger, but with sweet potato fries and garlic mayo instead of ketchup). And I liked the idea that she was going to do some vlogging about it—not only was it a nice thing to give the hotel some press, but it was probably a good idea to take even a small break from her channel being all Wiretap all the time.
“Still,” she said. “You might be right and I’m just happy to be off the bus for a bit. Not that I’m not having a good time on tour, of course. Just that it was getting...”
“Close?” I offered as we stepped onto the elevator. “Suffocating? Claustrophobic?”
She laughed as she pushed the button beside the little plaque that read: ‘pool.’ “Ha. Yeah, all those things. And I’m sorry, but so many bodies and laundry on that bus? It was starting to smell like a locker room.”
I had to agree with her there—it hadn’t gotten to where it was unbearable or even really offensive, just a little...funky I guess is the right word. Still, it wasn’t the nicest smell and air fresheners only made it smell like, well, a locker room that had been sprayed with air freshener. “It just needed some airing out. Anyway, it’ll be all good tonight. We have snacks, clean clothes and we’ve had a whole day of pampering.” And we’ve been away from all of them, I didn’t say out loud. Though I bet she was thinking the same. Even though she loved the guys (maybe with the exception of Max) even people you love can get on your nerves at such close quarters. I’d even been glad to get away from my father for the whole day.
“It’s not over yet, either. I’m really looking forward to this hot tub.” She gestured for me to lead her out of the elevator once the doors opened. “Massages and then cooking ourselves in hot water? We’re going to sleep like the dead once we get back to the morgue.”
We got to the pool area and I opened the locked door with my key card and held it for her.
“Oh good, none of the guys are here,” Sandy said. The relief I suddenly felt at her words made me realize I’d also been a bit worried they’d be here. It would have made sense if, like us, they’d decided to take advantage of our last moments of freedom before we had to board the tour coach and get on the road. But the pool deck was blissfully empty—we had the entire place to ourselves.
This really could qualify as one of my best days ever. At the very least, the best day on tour so far.
We made our way to one of the loungers and shrugged out of our robes as we stepped out of our flip-flops. “There are towels over there,” she said, nodding toward a rack filled with neatly rolled-up towels.” She stepped over to the hot tub and dipped a toe in. “Oh crap, that’s not hot at all.”
As I was arranging my boobs into the bathing suit I’d borrowed from Sandy (I hadn’t thought to buy one when I bought my tour wardrobe back on day two) I looked around and noticed the sign on the wall. I squinted at it and read where it said in order to conserve energy, the hot tub was on a timer. There was also an arrow pointing to the knob underneath it. “There,” I said, pointing to it as I tucked my right breast into the built-in cup that wasn’t quite big enough, “just turn it on. I’m sure it will heat up in no time.”
She walked over and turned the timer as far as it would go. “Let’s go in the sauna while that heats up,” she said. I followed her over to the wooden door of the sauna “Looks like this timer’s already set. Someone was in here.”
Not bothering to look through the smudged window into the dark sauna, I pulled open the wooden door and noticed the lone guy sitting up on the top bench. Nope, not someone was in here, I thought, someone is in here.
As in, hadn’t left.
As the wall of extreme heat hit me, prickling my nose and making my skin feel instantly tight, I couldn’t help but think: Welcome to Hell.
So That’s Hot
There was no reason for me to feel weird about being in the sauna with Sandy and Dave.
At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself, but the reality was that I did feel weird. Really weird. She still had a crush on him and also still bewilderingly thought they had some sort of chemistry. Thankfully, we’d all been busy enough the last couple of days that she hadn’t talked about it much, but I could tell by the way she always stole glances at him when she thought she wouldn’t get caught (by him—anyone else could see plain as day that she was fawning over him), that he was still very much on her radar.
That, compounded with his admission by non-admission that he had feelings for me, was a recipe for extreme awkwardness, especially at such close quarters. Like being in a sauna wasn’t hot enough.
But there wasn’t much I could do about it without shining a light on my awkwardness, so I followed Sandy in, really wishing I wasn’t in just a bathing suit. A borrowed bathing suit that didn’t fit very well, either. It would have been fine for just slipping into the hot tub with my best friend where I’d be covered by bubbles, but here and now, sitting on a wooden bench in front of Dave, I felt very exposed. At least I’d insisted on her one-piece. The bikini she had on was pretty tiny.
“Hey,” he said, giving us a friendly smile. He was in a pair of light blue and white Hawaiian print board shorts, sitting on a towel. No shirt.
I did my best to push away thoughts of him shirtless, only to be replaced with worry over him noticing how badly my suit fit, how it showed a lot more side boob than I was comfortable with.
“I’ll get us some towels,” Sandy announced right before she disappeared out the door, leaving Dave and I alone before I could say I’d go. I stood there like a dolt, keeping my eyes on his face.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I said and then fought a cringe. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” he said, looking almost as awkward as I felt. His cheeks were flushed pink, but that might have been from the heat.
“How come you’re not with the other guys?” I asked lamely, praying for Sandy to hurry up.
He chuckled. “Same reason you’re not, I would think.”
“Good point.”
“They’re all down in the restaurant with your dad watching a baseball game—except for Max. Anyway, I needed some quiet.”
Did that mean he wanted me to leave? I suddenly very much wanted to but didn’t want to be rude. Or make it even weirder for us once we got back on the bus. Sandy would be right back anyway, I told myself.
I stood there for another long moment, though it was probably only seconds, before I almost started whistling to fill the awkward silence. Thankfully, Sandy opened the door then, her arm outstretched, a towel dangling from her fingers.
“The hot tub’s warm enough,” she announced as I took the towel from her. Then, without another word, she left again, the door swinging closed with a dull thud before I could even thank her, let alone convince her to stay.
I wrapped the plain white, but thankfully big enough, towel around my body, tucking the end in by my armpit.
“So, I’m going to...” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder.
“Don’t go yet,” he said,
the plea in his voice rooting me to the spot.
I looked down at my feet that were stark white against the dark cedar planks, except for the bright orange of my freshly-painted toenails. The slight tan I’d gotten last weekend at the beach was already beginning to fade. “Dave...”
“I think we should talk about it, Nessa.”
There was no need for him to clarify what he meant by ‘it.’
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said. “It’s fine.”
“Not true,” he answered. “Or I wouldn’t be feeling so weird about things between us. You’re feeling weird, too.”
No point arguing, since I was sure it was all over my face, so I simply nodded. And I supposed he had a point about it not being fine, but I wasn’t about to agree out loud.
“There’s a really big elephant in this tiny sauna,” he said.
“But...Sandy...” I looked out the tiny window toward the hot tub where my best friend was sitting, the bubbles coming up to her chest. Even at this distance, it was obvious her eyes were closed as her head was tilted back, leaning on the ledge of the deck. She hardly looked like she was going to interrupt us.
Resisting the sigh that wanted so badly to come out, I stepped up on the bench to sit beside him where I could still see Sandy through the window. Not just Sandy, but a good chunk of the pool deck, including the loungers where we’d put our robes and shoes.
That meant he must have... Oh God.
“Did you see...? Never mind,” I added quickly, hoping the flush from the heat of the sauna covered up the blush on my face. The one that rose to my cheeks when I thought of how he must have watched me stuffing my boobs into the too-small bathing suit when I’d thought Sandy and I were alone.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. I don’t want to know,” I said, looking over at him so he would understand I really did not want to know and could he please drop it.
The Rosewoods Rock & Roll Box Set Page 35
