The Sauna Part 226

When we woke from our romp, we were not far from landing and we needed to get dressed. I slowly pulled on my pants and my blouse with an effort, wishing I’d worn looser clothing. Jon was dressed first and ran his fingers through his hair like a comb; the mussy look was quite becoming on him. There was no hope for my hair and I thought it better not to pretend, hoping sleep would serve as an excuse. It would be two in the morning in Scotland when we landed and I knew this time there wouldn’t be any crowds.

“Shit, Trish, there’s no disguising the evidence this time” he said as he studied my appearance.

“Is it that bad? Have you got a hat I can wear?” I said, starting to panic.

“It’s not your hair, babe, it’s this” he chuckled, turning me to look in the mirror as he fingered the darkening bite mark on my neck.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, shocked at the sight of my own reflection.

“Yeah, we sure did” he cackled proudly.

“Jon! That’s not funny! What am I gonna do?” I cried petulantly.

“Wear a turtleneck tomorrow?” he suggested with a smirk.

“Aaaarrrgghhh!” I groaned, making a strangled sound.

Jon tried pulling my long sweater around me a bit tighter, but to no avail. He’d branded me and he wasn’t the least bit ashamed. He wasn’t even feigning concern very well. I was almost forty-five years old and I looked like a teenager. I was blushing enough for us both.

We walked back to the main cabin and took our seats and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was still snickering and I reached over and pinched him.

“Ow!” he laughed.

“Just you wait, mister! Payback’s a bitch!” I hissed.

“Ooohh, I’m so scared” he said, making a face.

Vicky announced we’d be landing in a few minutes and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least she hadn’t come back in the cabin to check on us, I thought, pulling my hair forward in a futile attempt to hide what I could as the cabin lights came back on, making it worse. At least the bomb scare had been resolved and there didn’t appear to be a problem with landing.

Once inside the Glasgow airport, we searched for any place that was still serving food. We were both starving now, but the choices were limited and we bought mostly junk food at the newsstand that was still open. The limo was waiting and the driver loaded our luggage inside as we climbed in the back seat. Jon tore open a bag of “crisps” as I learned they were called in the U.K. and we demolished them pretty promptly.

We reached the hotel without any fanfare and checked in. The clerk called for a bell hop to take up our bags and Jon tipped him amply for his trouble. Unfortunately we were now wide awake at four in the morning with nothing to do and nothing to eat.

“Let’s go wake Richie! I bet he has food!” Jon squealed in a devilish moment.

Before I could object, he’d dragged me down the hall and we were standing in front of Richie’s door. Jon began banging loudly and calling to Richie and I stared at him, wondering what on earth had gotten into him.

“Hey bro, we’re here! Open up! We’re hungry, man” he yelled at the door.

Richie opened the door and stood there in his bathrobe, looking dumbfounded. He’d only just fell asleep about an hour ago and here was Jon pounding on his door and demanding food.

“Fuck! What do I look like? Room service, you asshole?” Richie grumbled.

“I am so sorry, Richie, but it seems someone is wound up and excited to see you” I apologized.

“I see that. What the fuck, Trish? Did Jon try and eat you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Aaawww, shit, Richie, leave it alone, will ya?” I pleaded.

“We haven’t eaten since lunchtime, bro. Got any food?” Jon persisted, intent on his mission.

“Yeah, c’mon in. I’m only doing this for Trish, ya know” he said pointedly to Jon.

We followed Richie into his room and I learned quickly that he usually had a supply of cheese, crackers and fruit that he kept while on tour. It was one of the few demands that he made from the BJM staff and as such, they made sure he always had plenty. I was beginning to understand why Jon woke him.

“Help yourselves” Richie said graciously, pointing towards the refrigerator in his room.

Jon opened the frig and pulled out an assortment of cheeses and a few other goodies that Richie had stashed and began stuffing his face. I laughed at his greedy behavior, but I was starving myself and now that food was available, I indulged my appetite too. Richie sat on the bed and looked at us like we were a couple of foolish kids who needed their father to take care of them. And he wasn’t far off the mark.

“So how did the interview go today?” Jon asked as he munched.

“Nice of you to ask, since you didn’t even tell me you weren’t phoning in for it. It was fine, actually. There were questions about Elaine, of course, and they wanted to know where you’d run off to, but I just said you had some personal business to attend to back home. I didn’t tell them you were just randy as hell and needed your woman before we all had to kill you” Richie grinned. “Thanks, Trish, for restoring his good humor.”

“My pleasure, Richie” I mumbled with a mouth full of cheese.

“Yeah, I can see that” he reminded me and I shot Jon a dirty look.

“Hey, I wasn’t alone in that bed!” Jon nudged me and I couldn’t very well argue.

We stayed for an hour or so until Richie finally threw us out and told us to go and find somewhere else to play. I could hardly blame him and now that we’d eaten, there was little need for him to entertain us. I decided I’d punish Jon for the love bite by giving Richie a tin of his cookies. Like I had said, payback’s a bitch.

We returned to our room and watched a bit of TV until we began to doze off yet again. Scotland wasn’t much different than the U.S. and the programming at that hour would have put me to sleep even on speed.

It was now almost six and we didn’t need to occupy ourselves for very long. The guys woke us to join them when they got up for breakfast. Dave was the first one up and he knocked on everyone’s door like the town crier.

“It’s breakfast, let’s roll” he boomed from the hall.

“C’mon, let’s go eat and we’ll shower later” Jon prompted, anxious for a real meal.

I dressed in my clothes from last night, cursing myself for not having unpacked when there was time. Jon was already dressed and we met Dave in the hall where he’d been joined by Tico and Hugh. Richie was lagging behind the rest, probably thanks to our waking him in the middle of the night.

“Hey Jon, I didn’t know you were doing a sequel to Los Muertos” Dave prodded him.

“Huh? Whaddya mean?” Jon asked, looking confused, but I knew exactly where this was going.

“Looks like you were practicing for the role on Trish last night” Dave replied, tickled with his own cleverness.

Everyone looked at me more closely and I rolled my eyes. I wanted to smack the whole lot of them, but Jon most especially. I decided not to invite further comment by reacting with embarrassment and went for a bolder response.

“It was an awfully long flight and we didn’t have the Joker there to amuse us, Dave” I said as sarcastically as I could.

David made a show of being mortally wounded, but he recovered pretty quickly and the rest got the hint. The subject was closed and we went down for breakfast without further incident.