She got on the bus behind me, with Jeff already on, and the other guys behind her. A whole slew of crew also joined us. We carried about twelve usually. I  took her bag and heaved it onto the bunk where I'd put my stuff. Then we moved into the farthest lounge.

            "Mom gave me some pointers." Aubrey said.

            Dylan was right behind her. He'd put his bag on the bottom bunk across from us, and Ben was directly above him.

            "Explain." Dylan said, following us back.

            "Oh, just not to use the bathroom unless it's an emergency, but then--- even then--- don't use the bathroom. Wear socks to sleep in, the AC gets cold. Never slam the bus door, always be aware of others sleeping and be quiet, use headphones to listen to my music. Don't leave stuff laying around. If I plan to eat special foods, keep them out of everybody's way. And try not to eat in front of people."

            "Are you planning to eat special foods?"

            We got to the lounge. The window blinds were up so we could see the daylight, and the chairs were facing forward. The big screen TV was not on, but a cupboard beneath it had been loaded with DVD's-- I assumed these were Ben's. He had a whole group of DVD's he watched when on tour, said it kept him sane. These included but were not limited to Ninja Turtles, and Godzilla.

            There was a table and a booth along the far wall. I went there. Aubrey had stopped to open a cupboard which happened to be full of somebody's liquor. She shut it quickly, opening the next one down-- somebody's stash. She closed that as well, and then looked to me.

            "Yeah, not special foods, but maybe ones other's haven't eaten before."

            This had been a delayed response, and everybody looked confused for a moment before getting it. Then they laughed. Aubrey looked sheepish.

            "So, Ben, where's Addie?" She asked, plopping down next to me, kicking off her shoes, and putting her feet up.

            Ben plopped down beside her, kicked his shoes off and stretched his long legs crossing them. "She opted out. She might meet us later also. No, it doesn't have anything to do with Aubrey. It has to do with her getting a good project to work on last night. She didn't want to leave. She hates being on tour."

            "So, you're saying Aubrey is the only girl? Where's Jess?"

            Dylan had been looking at his phone. "Jess isn't coming either. Has to do with her dumping me. But it's okay, f-ing bitch, I wanted to dump her first, but she beat me to it."

            I glanced at Aubrey for a reaction and saw her cringe. I was about to say something, but Aubrey stood up. I thought--- oh heck no--- she can't leave, the bus is about to roll.

            "Guys, I will make you a deal." She pulled a little red velvet baggie out of her back pocket and hooked it to a cupboard knob. "I hate cussing. Hate it with a passion, can't stand it. Literally will want to shoot you in your sleep if you're a cusser, so if you agree to stop cussing in my presence I promise to make you all my famous lasagna when we get home. I promise to come up with the very bestest of pranks for closing night, and I will give foot massages any night of the week you choose. I will also perform mani-pedi's for anyone who wants them, and head massages too. I'm very good. You on the other hand--- will owe me five bucks a swear word if caught--- to be placed in this little red bag." She dangled it from her fingers and then let it swing free on the cupboard knob.

            "Mani-pedi's. How good are you? Will you do a demo, so I can see if it's worth it?" Jeff wheedled.

            "I will." My girlfriend announced smartly. "I'd be happy to, right now, if you wish."

            "I wish." Jeff said, and Aubrey nodded her head, eyes bright, looking around at my band.

            "You can be first then. Any other takers?"

            I raised my hand. "I'm next. She will shoot you if you slip up."

            My guys were fairly good natured, but I was skeptical that they could or would stop swearing, it was so ingrained in all of us, and when we got together, it was worse. But there was something cute and compelling about Aubrey.

            "Are you a Girl Scout?" Mutt asked, wiping his nose on the back on his hand. Aubrey handed him a Kleenex from the dispenser on the side of the wall and he took it obediently.

            "Om--- not anymore. Just quirky, honestly. Those words set my nerves on fire. And since we're going to be close buddies for the next little while, I thought I'd get that out there right away. If you have quirks you'd like to toss out, I'm ready to hear them." She looked like an auctioneer, staring them each in the eye, waiting for a signal.

            "I'll take you up on it. I am sick of some of the cussing too." This was Dylan, who was never sick of cussing, who was the worst cusser of us all, who had never stopped cussing since he learned to speak. I knew instantly he was making fun of her--- or trying to get in her good graces. "This one's a free one right?"

            Aubrey nodded. "To see if you want to keep the bargain, but I'm warning you...."

            Right then Anita Crimmons came into the room. "Yoga at six a.m. for those of you interested, and running at seven." She eyed me carefully, and I grinned.

            "Of course. We want to be as healthy as possible."

            Aubrey was thrilled, I could just see it on her face. She hadn't asked me a lot of questions yesterday, and I knew it was because she didn't want to seem demanding, or ignorant, or spoiled, or into herself. But she was worried. She had asked me about food, and had brought my home food processer to make our smoothies. Can't live without those smoothies.

            The guys were nodding, Dylan had closed his eyes. "We'll be there."

            "What time does the bus roll?" Ben asked still staring at his phone. He was probably playing  a game.

            "Soon. I'm on the crew bus. Gunn already left, and King Horn Ruff is about to leave." Anita turned quickly and walked out. The guys started laughing about her stiffness, she was a good yoga instructor, but was really no fun on the trip. We'd adopted yoga awhile ago after having some fairly big tour melt downs. The running too. A lot of bands ran every day, that wasn't unusual, running was a fad. But we had learned the value in staying mentally and emotionally healthy while on tour.

            "Got our own yoga girl, and now Rafe brought the cosmetologist." Dylan squinted. "Well, get on with it, girl." He was being his double charming self, and I had this sudden image of him crawling in bed with us in the middle of the night. I took a deep breath.

            Aubrey went back to our junk bunk and rummaged in her stuff. In moments she was back. The bus lurched, the driver's voice came over the loud speaker, welcoming us and our crew, talking about the trip in general, and then stats about today's little jaunt to Tijuana. There were rules as well. He told us those as Aubrey tied back her hair, and began prepping her stuff.

            "She's a surgeon too, Jeff." I said by way of warning.

            "What?"

            "She likes to cut things off."

            Aubrey looked shocked. "I do not!"

            Mutt whipped out his lucky pocket knife as the bus started rolling. "I got me a knife, Aubrey, you ever want to use it."

            "Thanks, Mutt." she said sarcastically, or as if she was tolerating a little brother. I figured he was about ten years older than her.

            He nodded and went back to his game. Dylan leaned over to watch as she took off Jeff's socks and shoes without even a flinch, and lowered his foot into her nifty little blow up warm water holder. It had a place just for the foot, and the water couldn't spill.

            The conversation swirled onto other topics as we each began to talk about things that had been going on, especially the women in our lives that hadn't come on tour. I could hear talking from the front of the bus, and knew some of our crew were discussing logistics and other pertinent stuff.

            Dylan was new to the band. Although he wasn't an unknown. He'd been touring with us as a sound engineering technician for many years, but when Troy died---- I shook myself, I couldn't think about Troy right now. I looked at Aubrey and took a deep breath, letting my mind feel soothed by her presence. And it did.

            Dylan was a valuable player. He was a professional, and he knew us. What I wasn't as certain of was how he was responding to my fiancé. Should I break the news that she is my fiancé? Now that she was the only girl back here? I was sure Kati Phillips was up front, little dark haired cute Kati who was our main sound engineer. And Gina Thomas had been in the crowd, our publicist, she had a big job here on tour. Invaluable both of them.

            "What sorts of things do you bring on tour with you?" Aubrey was asking at a lull in the conversation. She was massaging lotion into Jeff's right foot and I think he had fallen asleep, at least his head had fallen back and his mouth was open and he was snoring lightly.

            Now Ben looked up from his game. "I always have to bring my allergy medicine because I have really bad allergies, and that's no good for singing. I also like to bring a notebook so I can do some writing, and the really cool duffel bag my father got me in Morocco. It's a handmade bag from these people that tan leather, which is pretty cool. It's like a carpetbagger thing. I pack a lot of clothes because I sweat really bad, so I can't really wear the same thing twice. Off the record: Everyone smells like shit. I smell great, the other guys smell like shit."

            It was the longest recorded speech he'd given thus far. He had barely looked up as well.

            Aubrey didn't look up. "Allergy meds are important. Cool duffle bag sounds lucky. Your word choices will get you into trouble, hope you brought me some money."

            I thought Ben was going to blow a gasket. His face turned red, and he started digging in his pocket, but then with a smile, he relaxed. "You haven't given me my demo yet. It doesn't start till after the demo."

            "Okay, Ben. I'll give you that. But that was your warning and you're now up after Dylan."

            He cocked his shoulder at her in relief. "This could be an expensive trip." He muttered and we all laughed. It was like a game. It was very different too. Different was good. Any different, and none of us minded being told what to do, she'd asked it and said it so nicely and wasn't just demanding, but was giving something in return. Something valuable. Something equally personal. My guys were into that.

            "The rest of you? Do you have lucky things you brought, or projects to work on?"

            We were suddenly all eager to tell Aubrey what we brought to work on, or what our lucky thing was. We all had funny rituals about concert time, who went on stage first, what order we went on in, what instrument got touched first, and what shirts we wore. If a mike was broke--- that was unlucky. If one of our guitars had suffered in any way, that was cause for calling off a concert, we never had, but we talked about it.

            For her part, Aubrey was quiet. She finished with Jeff and started in on me. Her fingers were warm and supple, and firm. She was good too. The new water was very warm, but very relaxing. I saw that as she finished with him Jeff had woken up, and his eyes were shining in gratitude. I knew how he felt. This was really good. Aubrey was an expert--- her nimble fingers cut dead skin, shined stains out of yellowed nails, and buffed them to a nice luster. Not that guys feet need to be seen, and hardly ever were on stage, but it just felt good to know they were clean and cared for. We had pedi's periodically. But this was unexpected, not costing anything and was very relaxing.

            "So, what's your best tip for touring?" Aubrey threw out there when the conversation waned. Again my boy, Ben sat forward in his seat.

            "It's to not ever expect comfort, because then when you find it, then it's really rewarding. You have to know--- it's not home. You're never home. There's never anywhere that's even similar to home. I think that helps a little bit, but also just talking to people. The easier it is for you to have a conversation with someone, the easier it is for you to feel like you're not going crazy. We have the benefit of being people who go somewhere to meet people. They tend to know who we are or like what we're doing. But it's a strange mix, because on days of shows, we are just normal people who have a certain set of privileges, but on days off, most people are probably just like, 'Who's that home boy? Why is that idiot here?"

            "Do you like to go sightseeing while you're on tour? Is there time? My mom homeschooled while she was on tour when the kids were little--- not me--- but some of the older kids. So it didn't matter, and they didn't travel fast. I haven't seen an itinerary for this trip. But do you guys like to go look at things?"

            It was a good question. I waited to see if one of them would answer it--- admit it is more likely. Because we hardly ever go sightseeing. We've gotten where we don't even get off the bus that much, or out of the resort or hotel or wherever we were at. It's just too much of a hassle.

            Ben didn't chime in. He too was probably too enamored of her cute little listening personality, to want to burst her bubble.

            Jeff was still asleep. So finally Dylan took it on himself. "Baby," He said in that sultry voice he was using to talk to her, much against my wishes. "Yeah, we see the insides of the truck stops and bars."

            Nobody thought that was funny. We managed to not look at him and not look at her.

            I shook my head finally as she finished up with my feet. It had been a half an hour just on me. The above conversations  were only snippets of what was actually being said. "We used to go sightseeing." I told her.

            She scrunched up her face. "Too busy now?"

            I pursed my lips. "It's not that. But we get mobbed----"

            "No we don't, and won't, not there, in Mexico." Mutt laughed. "Lame excuse, bro. The fact is, Aubrey, we've become lazy. We'd rather sit on our asses here in this incredible rolling hotel and watch 80's movies."

            "Speak for yourself." Jeff mumbled finally opening his eyes.

            Aubrey held up her hand, closing the fingers in a pinched move, shaking her head. She jerked her head in a very disappointed nod. "Gotta stop you now." She kept that hand up and Jeff opened his eyes to see what had stopped her. She was washing out the bowls and tools. She made this little squeaking sound with her lips. "You owe me, Jeff. You've sealed your deal with the pedi and you fell asleep, so you can't deny that you accepted the deal."

            He thought about it and then hung his head. "Ass? Is ass a cuss word? You gotta be kidding."

********