*****048:

And now we played the waiting game.

In all aspects of our life.

Okay, my life.

Rafe was busier than he'd ever been. He had rehearsal and the show every single solitary day. He was home, then he was gone, then he'd stop home and then he'd be gone. He found time to work on Draft Jam's latest music, found time to plan and video and create. And somehow when he came home he was all there.

He took the kids out in the surf, hosted barbecues with either the band or Marshall and Angie. We saw a lot of Abbie and Jeremy, and weird as it may seem, we started seeing a lot of Hannah and Ben.

The week went by.

I did only a little yoga, but full meditation. I read to the kids, sang with them, played games with them, took naps with them, watched a few movies with them.

I read medical journals, kept in touch with colleagues and wished fervently for the answer to my prayers about my education and practice. I allowed myself to go on short walks. Mostly because I had to go to the bathroom about six times an hour, or so it seemed. Getting too far away was unconducive.

And I turned inward. Not depressed, but somewhat melancholy.

I felt tied down, and I was, and happily so. But the lack of activity and challenge to it--- everybody else did all of my work for me. I literally had two cooks and two housekeepers and one nanny and her husband at my beck and call nearly constantly. I sat--- or lounged and placed my hands on my belly and felt my baby's movements, their rolly poly, kicking stretching hiccupping movements.

The guys came by to visit regularly. It was interesting talking to Jeff and Justine. Jeff had changed. He was still rough and broody. He did not pretend to be someone he was not. That part had not changed.

But I noticed that with his ex-wife Rhonda he'd been aloof, uninterested, and anxious around her, and she always bossed him around. He would fidget in her presence, his eyes darting back and forth to see if others noticed her weirdness, or if he should be reacting to it.

And his nature.... The Jeff I'd met first on tour had been the quiet guy. The studious one, the one interested in random intellectual topics. His music was everything to him. He was developing a new guitar--- marketing and building a new kind of guitar. I figured he was the smartest creative guy I knew.

And Justine was all about her music. She'd been a member of the LDS girl band, Victorine Alissa, that had now stopped playing together--- the one whose leader, my sister-in-law's sister, was suing Axis for plagiarism, or whatever it was.

I had learned that these things came up pretty regularly. Axis was so successful and Rafe collaborated so much with so many different artists it was bound to happen. Rafe didn't care, he gave them pretty much whatever they wanted. He had a team of lawyers to make sure they didn't get taken advantage of, but other than that, it was pretty basic.

Back to Justine.

She had straight, chin length black hair and bangs, she wore black round rimmed glasses. Her eyes sparkled with clarity, and perception. She was astute, and clever, and as quiet as her fiancé. She was a keyboardist---- but she played violin, and harp, flute, cello, and drums. She'd been on a mission to Canada and spoke fluent Spanish, so that was a plus for understanding my kids. Her intellect and insatiable curiosity about any subject made her the perfect fit for Jeff interestingly enough, because she valued her space and didn't get all controlling or insecure when he needed his. She understood his need.

She was not old enough to be the mother of his three kids, at twenty-four, she enjoyed the kids though, and took the roll of step-mother seriously. She'd been researching strategies and parenting step-children success stories for weeks now, and was willing to discuss these things, which was actually very interesting for me, as the mother of adopted children.

We could sit talking while I took notes, or commented on articles she'd sent me, and she seemed not to mind, even though she composed and sold her songs for a living and needed space for that as well.

They were there on this particular day when, it was still nice outside, and a breeze was coming off the ocean to lighten the oppressive weight of heat reflecting off sidewalks, cars, trees, buildings. Heat seemed to be contained in these things, and I imagined that higher up in the atmosphere, it wasn't as hot, even though it was closer to the sun, because the bottom stuff held all the heat. I liked to pretend I could beam myself up to an unattached floating mountain in the sky, over the ocean, looking down on my home, a place I could travel to whenever I wanted.

"Why don't you write children's books, Aubrey?" Justine was saying, back on earth in the growing morning warmth.

I stretched and yawned. "Children's books, um hm." Personally, I'd failed at the blog, failed at the attempt to answer all the fan mail, or even the birthday cards. I was hopelessly in-adept at normal journal writing, and expert at medical chronicling. I shrugged, sipping my third shake of the day, feeling slightly nauseated and knowing I needed to go to the bathroom.

"Well, I think it would be cool, you could come up with some kind of story, and I could make a song to go with it, and your sister, the artist, which one is it?"

"I don't know, Megan probably, or Cassie." I shrugged, half listening. The endless parade of career changes people proposed to me was exhausting and uninteresting. I'm a neonatal surgeon. I'm a doctor. Somehow, some way, I know I need to go back to work.

But it seemed like it was everybody's mission to suggest different careers that might be more conducive to having eight kids and a very successful superstar husband. I pursed my lips as Justine went on.

"The guys could even record the story and play the song, and we could sell it with either a built-in MP3 or come kind of CD, or both----." She could see by my dubious expression I was not even slightly tempted. "And your sister could illustrate."

"Yeah." I mused, setting my empty glass down. Laura came out as if she'd been watching for me to finish, holding a tray of some kind of nutritious food-- this last week I had quit even taking notice, it was all the same. She took my glass and disappeared. "I was hoping to never write a children's book." I smiled anyway, Justine would not be offended by my lack of interest, she was used to it.

She went back to perusing her tablet, her beautiful eyes darting back and forth, her finger poised to press something on the screen. Her company was all I needed.

Okay--- back to my floating mountain in the sky above my house, over the islands I couldn't see from here, but knew were there.

What if--- I had kids there, kids who could fly? Or do some kind of magic?

I closed my eyes. My kids were magic.

All of them.

I could write their magical story about living on their island mountains in the sky and saving the world one cloud--no bird--no alphabet noodle bad guy eating....

What was I rambling about? I had drifted.

"Aubrey, will you be my matron of honor?"

"Wh-what?" My eyes popped open, and I leaned to the side shading my eyes sleepily. I had no idea how many times I dozed off each and every day, but I sure found myself waking up a lot.

"I want you to be my matron of honor. I have an unmarried sister, Elizabeth, and she's my maid of honor, and that's all I want. A maid of honor and a matron of honor. Jeff is asking Rafe to be his groomsman, and his brother, Jesse, to be his best man." She said this so matter-of-factly I found myself startled into speechlessness.

"Have you-- have you set a date?" I blurted, not answering her, but thinking that when she planned to be married might determine if I could even attend.

"Yeah, November 20th, a few days before Thanksgiving. It's his year date."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say to that. I had forgotten that Jeff was waiting for a year date, due to reactivation and some church disciplinary stuff he'd undergone. "Yes, I would love to be your matron of honor. It sounds so old! Can I just be a bridesmaid? If Rafe is a groomsman, right?"

She looked troubled. "But you're not a maid."

"No, I guess you're right. Does anybody care about that anymore?"

She shrugged. "I care about it. In the church, being a maid may mean being a virgin." She said slowly, "And being a matron, implies you are married and therefore not a virgin."

"Om.... Probably not just in the church, but everywhere, it's just a little antiquated, but very sweet." I tried on my bedside manner smile, hoping to ease her sudden wariness. I was sure it was due to hormones--- mine. I was snippy, and I knew it.

"My parents live in Utah. They both went to BYU. They are both teachers, not at BYU. My dad teaches at Utah State, and my mom teaches at Provo High. I've lived in the church all my life, and never expected to marry a guy with a past like Jeff's."

"Does his past bother you?" I felt anxious knowing that Jeff's past was filled with promiscuity, crazy partying and some drug use. I knew that even before I came on the picture, the guys were already trying to clean up their acts. They had made some adjustments, maybe not as many as could be construed as actual lifestyle changes, but enough that I knew they were reaching out, hoping somebody would meet them half way, or all the way, and give them a chance.

"No, not at all. I prefer it honestly. I'm not perfect, and I've had my wild days too. I think it makes me better able to understand life and love and The Savior. Because of my wild days, I actually have a relationship with God, and that means the most to me."

I nodded. It was refreshing to hear her simple faith spoken of so innocently and so trustingly. I had the feeling she would stop now, she'd said more in these few minutes than in our whole existence together.

She looked out to sea, and then back at the sketch book she was drawing or writing in.

I went back to imagining my island mountains floating over the sea.

*****