Fare you well, I love you more than words can tell

I woke to the feel of a hand squeezing my breast and his mouth nuzzling my neck. I tried to slap him away, saying, "Stop that, we've got to get up—we have a plane to catch and besides, I'm starving."

"Umm, you have to earn your breakfast, young lady, and we do have enough time, after all, the band did rent the plane. And besides, it's going to be more than a month before I'll be able to see you again."

I gave in, I always give in, at least for now. We make love then take a shower and get dressed. Since we've worked up an appetite, we go downstairs to the coffee shop for breakfast. On the way down I grab a paper since I want to read the review of last night's concert.

Levon followed us in, looking half-awake. And he's alone, the little groupie is gone, and I wonder what happened. I'm about to say something when Rick pipes up.

"Where's your little blond friend, Levon?" he asks, "Not like you to spend the night alone if you can help it." I wonder if Rick is as glad to see her gone as I am.

"Ah, she left early this morning, she didn't really give a reason. Something about having to get home or some such thing. Besides," he picked up my hand and kissed it, "She was just another groupie, not a jewel like you have here."

I could kiss him for that, but I don't. I smile and thank him, telling him I'm not a jewel, not really, but Rick, bless him, objects.

We eat huge breakfasts, each of us, not lingering over them as we'd like but tucking away our eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast and lots of coffee. We've got to get packed and get our stuff ready for the roadies to take to the terminal.

I only have a few more hours with him and I'm trying to be brave and not cry. We'll fly to San Antonio and hopefully, Rick will be able to see me to my plane or at least help me check-in. I couldn't deal with it if he sent a roadie to do it in his place.

On the plane we sit apart from the others, holding onto each other somewhat desperately. He tells me how pretty I look in the blue silk dress (Gina's of course) I'm wearing and say, where did that necklace come from? I slug him and laugh, which is exactly what he wanted me to do.

He rubs his arm as if he's in pain. "You got quite a punch there girl," he tells me and I giggle. We're pretending that the time isn't passing as quickly as it is. We pretend time is standing still, when, in a couple of hours we're going to be separated for over a month.

Eventually, the plane lands, we couldn't maintain our fantasy forever. We wait in the terminal while the baggage is being unloaded and soon Ben appears carrying my pink suitcase.

"Got your ticket, baby?" Rick asks me and I reach inside my bag and pull it out. It's not a long walk to where I need to check-in, I wish it were longer. Ben carries my case and Rick and I walk with our arms around each other, thinking we're safe from the madness of the night before.

Until someone snaps our picture, twice. Rick looks angry, I've never seen him look that way before. "Ignore it," he says to me, "No good to make a scene here. I'd like to smash his camera."

"Is it anyone you recognize?" I ask.

"No," Ben answers for him, "Just someone trying to get a picture. Why in the world they knew we'd be here is beyond me. No one should have known.

"Someone always seems to know," said Rick grimly, "But maybe that picture won't go anywhere. I'd sure like to know why he showed up here, though."

He helps me check in and they walk me to the gate. "I can't stay and see you on your plane, sweetie, but after I get home I'll call you as soon as I can." He took me in his arms, held me tightly, "I love you, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I'm going to miss you!"

"I'm going to miss you too. I know I'm not going to hear from you for a while after you get home, but please, get in touch with me as soon as you can?"

"I'll try to remember to call you at least once before the tour's over, babe, but please be understanding if I forget. You've seen how hectic things can get. You bore up real well and I'm proud of you." He gave me a quick kiss, then he and Ben disappeared into the terminal.

I retreat to the VIP lounge, hoping I will be left alone. I hope my face doesn't betray how I'm feeling but Gina is always telling me I wear my heart on my sleeve and I should learn to hide my feelings more. I wish I could do that, I really do. On a rare occasion, I succeed, but usually, my face betrays what my heart feels.

A stranger settles into the seat next to me, easing his bulk carefully into the chair. For a big man, he maneuvers himself rather well. I look at him and recognize the man who sat next to me on the flight to Dallas.

If he lost about a hundred pounds he wouldn't be bad-looking. He's had his hair and beard trimmed and the brown suit he's wearing looks nice on him. The bolo tie is corny but it seems to be a popular affectation. My dad used to wear them, along with his cowboy boots—he was from Texas after all.

"Well, little lady," he says in his syrupy southern accent, "Why do you look so sad? Did that boyfriend of yours abandon you after all?"

I could take offense but I don't. "No. I only got to spend three days with him, it was all I could get off from work and now I have to fly back home. It was hard to say goodbye but I couldn't believe how crazy the tour was. Being away from him is hard, but I think I'd rather be at home. Besides, I have to get back to work."

Our flight is announced and we walk together to board. I wonder if I should trust him but I don't think I've given out any information as to who I was seeing—except when Rick met me at the airport.

We settle into our seats and the stewardess takes our drink orders. I have the window seat again and look out over the tarmac wondering where their plane is.

"Do you like working?" he asks, "Never wanted to have a man to support you so you didn't have to?"

"What would I do if I didn't work? I like earning my own money, I like being independent. I'm just not the housewife type, you know? Stay home, watch the soaps, cook, clean. I clean when I feel like it, eat out as often as I cook though I am a good cook. It's just not the life I want. I'd be a terrible wife, my poor husband or boyfriend would never know if I'm at home, would have to put up with my sloppy cleaning, and wouldn't get that home-cooked meal every night he'd deserve."

He laughed in a way that let me know he wasn't making fun of me. "So what would you be doing instead?"

"I'd study archaeology at UCLA, I've lived in California long enough to get resident tuition. I'd study hard so I'd want to get the best grades I could so I could get into the graduate program. If I did have spare time I'd be out taking pictures or writing, but I imagine I wouldn't have much time for that. "

"Men want their wives to be, well, wives, right? I'll be turning twenty-four soon and I'm just not ready to do the wife thing, I don't even know if I want to. In the meantime I have a job that pays good money for a college dropout, I love my job about half the time because the people can be great. I don't want to go into management because that's not me. I wish I made more money but I live well enough with what I have."

"I don't think you're willing to give marriage a chance," he rumbled in his deep voice, "Maybe there's someone out there who'd stand behind you to help you get what you want."

"Well, I haven't met him yet," I respond, but that's not true. I don't what it would be like if Rick and I could truly be together. Would he understand what I wanted? Would he support my going to school and be willing to live in a messy house when I don't have time to clean? As far as I'm concerned, I've met the man of my dreams but I have to admit I don't really know him. We enjoy each other, we like each other but then there's the drug thing. How much of that would I have to put up with?

Gina was waiting for me in her little Volkswagen beetle. "Well," she demanded, "How was it?"

"It was great, except for groupies, pesky photographers, and an obnoxious reporter from a British tabloid who tried to interrogate me."

"That's not what I wanted to hear," she said sternly, "You're making it sound like you were miserable the whole time."

"I'm sorry," I said, "It's just that I didn't expect that stuff to happen. Rick was wonderful, the boys in the band were welcoming, and the party was crazy. It's just that there was stuff happening that I wasn't ready for—like how much coke he does, and had me doing it too."

"What?" I could hear Gina's Italian mama coming out.

"I mean, I've seen some at the studio but I've never seen him do so much as he did at the party. And he drank more, too. That whole scene was crazy but he seemed comfortable with it. The drugs, the alcohol, the hangers-on, reporters pretending to be journalists, and so-called photographers trying to get pictures to sell. I mean, he tried to shield me but he left me for a moment to talk to someone then had to rescue me from this jerk from some British tabloid. We left after that, fortunately."

"Are you sure that this is what you want? Honey, you're with a married man for crying out loud. I wanted to see you with someone nice, this is not what I had in mind."

"Gina, I'm head over heels for this guy, but I'm not spineless. Hey, I'm hungry, let's go to Thirteen Coins, my treat." I hadn't told her about the hundred-dollar bill he'd slipped into my pocket, and I wanted to show her the diamond pendant he'd bought me. Gina was wrong, I had found that someone nice, he just happened to be a married musician. As long as he wanted me, I was going to be there. The only obstacle to our happiness would be if his wife found out about us. In the meantime, I was happy and in love.

I wonder what is going to happen to those pictures? Rick didn't seem overly worried, maybe he's had pictures of him taken with groupies before so it's no big deal. Anyone seeing us together would have no idea that I'm anything more than a groupie who's been keeping him company. An important magazine like "Rolling Stone" wouldn't bother with them. I'm safe, I tell myself.

When we get to 13 Coins I tell Gina what she wants to hear and show her the diamond pendant Rick got me. It will be all right, I tell myself, I'm in over my head, but the next time I'll know what to expect.