“I understand, dear,” Cyan relents. “Even ‘our’ club could get a little chaotic, and we were nobodies back then. I’ll adjust.”
“Why not me?” Ally protests.
“‘Cause you don’t have the experience with that setting. A strange club in a strange city is asking for trouble. And even though you’re used to running a bar and getting hit on left and right, that is in the genteel setting you created at The Spirit. Nightclubs can get pretty wild. Even tough guys like Tony and Dennis can be overwhelmed. Remember Cyan telling you about the jerk at our club? But tell you what…”
“What’s that?”
“We’ll do some shopping around. Our celebrity makes it easier yet more difficult to ‘play hard’ like that. When we get back home I’ll make some contacts. David at the resort might know of something nice but low-key in KC, although I’d prefer something not so close to home.”
“Okay,” she pouts.
“No pouting!” I scold. With a smile.
She reaches over to hold my hand. I’m more than happy to offer my love and reassurance that I am there for her, that I am looking out for her.
Cheyenne breaks in, “Thanks, Steve, for being the heavy. I’ve done my share of nightclub play, and you’re absolutely right. Ally, there may be lots of fun to be had, but some situations can turn dangerous in seconds. Follow his lead, sweetie.”
“Thanks, guys.”
“Hey! Here comes breakfast!” I announce as the server deftly balances the big tray full of plates.
We enjoy a leisurely breakfast, which frankly, like yesterday, is pretty standard coffee shop fare, not all that different from ours. So it’s sort of the comforts of home, six hundred miles away.
“Jess?” I prompt. “You might ask them how they prep the omelets. Really fluffy.”
“I thought I saw somebody using a milkshake mixer for it. But you’re right, I’ll ask.”
There are not too many interruptions from other patrons wishing us well, or expressing appreciation for our over-the-top but lighthearted humor. I offer a heartfelt thanks to all these fans, since, after all, I’m still a regular guy in here.
As I sip the last of my coffee, Meg Jackson, the hotel exec manager, uses the opportunity to step over to our table and softly requests a private chat, off to the side. She’s dressed down slightly from yesterday, this time in a smart navy blue pencil skirt and a logo polo knit top. She rocks those tight skirts. I don’t notice panty lines, and her ankles are bare. Interesting. And do I detect nips? Uh…
“Excuse me ladies. Be right back,” as I follow her to a niche near the counter.
“Yes, ma’am, what can we do for you?” I ask.
“Your group’s little parade through the lobby created quite the stir, Steven,” she starts.
So far it’s sounding like I may have tipped over the applecart.
“Did we go a little too far? That is sort of our style.”
She chuckles, “Hardly. I’m here to request a repeat performance! This place can get a little stuffy sometimes. I never saw so many smiling faces from customers and staff. You must be fantastic to be around back at home.”
“Thanks, Meg. We’ve been told by a lot of guests that our hotel is a fun place to be. Even when things go awry, we’ve found a little lighthearted humor and a touch of empathy go a long way towards assuring that we care. Does wonders.”
“I’ll bet. You and your ladies good for another show during brunch tomorrow in the restaurant? Around 10:30? That’ll lighten-up the mood! It’s been a little somber of late, so it could use a pinch of loving humor, which you guys have in spades.”
“Sure! Thanks! We have a lot of fun not taking ourselves seriously, so happy to help. Anything else we can do for you?”
“Yes. I’d like to have dinner with you this evening. Just you and me, if your ladies will allow it. I get the impression that while they clearly dote on you, they don’t ‘own’ you, just like you don’t ‘own’ them. I want to learn about that, about how it works.”
“Well thanks, Meg! Yes, we can do that. 7:30 sound about right? Here, or off-campus? I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a special place for private meetings; we do.”
“You’re right, I do. Meet you in the lobby at 7:30.”
“See you then!”
I make my way back to the table. The ladies are a little antsy to get on with the day, especially to see Hannah.
“What was that about, Steven?” Ally scowls, almost in an accusing manner.
“Wow, girl!”
“Sorry. I thought we might be in trouble.”
“Far from it. She wants us to stage a repeat of this morning’s little show for the Sunday brunch crowd in the big restaurant. Something about ‘stuffy’ and ‘somber’. She wants to lighten the mood.”
“There’s something else, Steven. We know you,” Jessica grins.
I sheepishly admit, “Yeah. She asked me out to dinner tonight.”
Everybody is guffawing and all but pounding on the table.
“We knew it! We knew it!” Cyan laughs.
Cheyenne goads me, “Yeah, Steven. You and the ladies. You’re a chick magnet. Hey, Ally! I’ll be collecting on that bet after we get back from seeing Hannah!”
I’m a little nonplussed, “You were taking bets?”
“Absolutely!” Jess chuckles. “If there’s a smart, confident, put-together and pretty woman within a fifty mile radius of you, you are toast!”
“So I guess it’s okay?” I meekly respond to their taunts.
“Hell, yes!” all in chorus. “We want to watch this!”
“Gonna bring ‘er upstairs, Steeeeeeevie?” Jessica teases. Cyan laughs.
“Not in the plan! You know me that way, too! Girls, if anything happens, it will be with all of us! I will not fly solo on this!”
“Oooooooh, we wouldn’t mind, Steve,” Ally and Cheyenne leer. “She’s a looker. Nice tits, too! And we get ‘that vibe’, that she plays.”
“Yeah. She came on to you our second day here? Priceless!” Cyan chuckles.
I roll my eyes and shake my head, “You guys are a mess. But okay, we’re on! Y’all ready?”
“Yep!” most respond.
I’ve already signed the ticket, so everybody rises from the table, gathers their purse or whatever, and we head out to the lobby. A couple of ’em make a comfort stop while I’m letting the parking valet know we need my car.
“Out on the town again, Mr. Albertson?” the young valet inquires.
“Not really, Stuart. Hospital visit.”
“Oh, that’s right. Hope they’re doing okay.”
“Thanks. Much better today.”
“Your lawyer going to be with you?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I dunno. Gawd, Mr. Albertson. She’s so pretty. Just nice to see her, even if it’s only for a moment.”
“But all of the ladies are really pretty, Stuart.”
“They are. But she looks like she just stepped out of Playboy.”
I chuckle, “Better go get the car, Stu.”
“Yes, sir,” he meekly grins in his relative embarrassment as he grabs a handful of keys off the hook board.
Car’s at the curb now, and the valet and one of the bellmen open doors for the ladies and me.
“You have a fan club, Cheyenne,” I chuckle, nodding my head towards the valet.
“Yeah. He’s undressing me with his eyes. It’s so obvious.”
“You’d kill ‘im, girlfriend.”
“But he’s cute. Give ‘im another five or ten years, and just maybe.”
“You’re so bad.”
“And you love it.”
“Guys, cut that out!” Ally laughs from the back seat. Jess and Cyan are grinning at our silly repartee.
We take off, chuckling to each other about the little attentions we seem to be getting.
It’s a big hospital, so even with it being a Saturday, I guess the volume of weekend visitors is enough to all but fill the designated parking lot. I’ve dropped the crew off at the front door and am circling around for a spot to park the big SUV. It’s a challenge. I swear the spaces have to be a foot narrower than a normal parking lot. I finally light in an end spot a healthy 200 yards from where I left the girls.
“You left your hiking boots at home, dear,” Cyan needles me as I approach the entrance.
“No kidding!” as I catch my breath from the long and too-brisk walk. “Let’s go!”
We get a big smile and a wave from the receptionist, Christine. She knows me from yesterday’s visits and is evidently quite amused that the entire entourage is here today. It doesn’t hurt that we’re all bubbly, leftover levity from the valet encounter. We pile into the elevator, Ally and Jess sort of hanging on me during the ride upstairs.
“Parade?” I ask. “Nurses will appreciate it.”
“Sure. Why not?” Cyan confirms.
“Usual order, then,” as the doors open.
Maybe feeling a little more goofy than usual, I lead the troops out of the elevator, faking a drum major’s march step with my “air baton”. There is laughter from down the hall as we’re spotted, and three or four nurses pop out from behind the counter at their station to enjoy the jocular moment.
The door to Hannah’s room is open, so I stop there in a mark-time, steering everybody in for the visit.
Hannah laughs, “Guys, it hurts to laugh! Gawd that hurts! But that’s great. Thank you. Kisses?”
Jessica is first, and lifts her little self by the railing for their buss. The rest follow in their loving greeting.
“Steven? Come here, dammit!” Hannah insists.
I bend over to her, she reaches up for a big hug. Ill-advised given her condition, but we embrace and kiss a big lover’s kiss anyway. She does not want to let go.
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