Roseacres free porn video

names and a few other little details were disguised to protect the
innocent. It’s not all sex and action, more about falling in love,
and being in love. I tried to make the sex scenes sensual rather than
blatant, so I don’t really care if it gets low ratings. However any
feedback will be welcome.

Her thirty second birthday had been a blast, it lasted three days. She
couldn’t remember the last twenty four hours of it, but she knew that
she had had a good time, if hangover was anything to judge by. Then add
she couldn’t find the underwear she had worn at the beginning of her
party; in fact she woke up from her drunken stupor on the floor of her
bedroom in an ill-fitting man’s shirt half buttoned and at least two
sizes too small for her 34C breasts, one of which lay unrestrained and
exposed, from the tight shirt, and someone else’s way too short skirt
that had rucked up, exposing the bare fact she was without any underwear at
all. She peeked in at her roommate; Shelly was passed out naked on her bed
three naked guys were arranged artfully around her. Obviously she had
enjoyed the party too.

She was thirty two! Well actually thirty two and two days. Arleen
looked at herself in her full length bedroom mirror. She was tall at
5’10”.Her cornflower blue eyes were bloodshot and the lids
puffy, the long lashes that shrouded them, normally making her eyes appear
mysterious were matted and clumped. The eye shadow was smudged and her
eyebrows had been plucked to thinnish arches above her enigmatic eyes. Her
cheekbones were high and complimented her eyes. Her face was heart shaped,
her nose was straight and slender with narrow nostrils, her mouth was wide,
with sensual lips, her chin was sharp but slightly rounded, making her
appear determined rather than darn right ornery, which she knew she could
be.

She staggered to the bathroom and managed to stumble into the shower
without tearing the shower curtain down. In her borrowed clothing she let
the warm water cascade over her. She slipped out of the sodden clothes,
turned up the hot water and stood as the almost scalding water stung her
naked body, what was left of her make up ran down her cheeks in twin
grayish rivulets she guessed she looked like a raccoon. She stood letting
the water soothe her soul for at least fifteen minutes before, gingerly,
she applied soap, shampoo and moisturizer and cleaned herself.

After drying herself with a big fluffy towel and brushing her teeth she
walked to the kitchen still wrapped in her towel, the apartment was a mess,
bottles everywhere, some quiet full but mostly empty, and overfilled
ashtrays were strewn carelessly everywhere. Her answering machine had been
destroyed by some maniac with a baseball bat and lay in two hundred
unfixable parts in the center of her bed. Someone was thoughtful enough to
drink all the coffee cream as well as the milk, when they raided the
fridge, leaving it bare except for three empty beer bottles and half a
bottle of Russian Vodka. Well with the way she felt it would be wise to
drink her coffee black, she went about the complicated task of filling the
coffee maker and switching it on.

Thank God the coffee maker still worked; scalding black coffee and the
handful of Advil she took began to deaden the dull throb behind her eyes.
Within an hour she was almost capable of rational human thought, and simple
coordination like getting dressed and brushing her long dark hair.

It had been more than a birthday bash; her birthday had coincided with
the end of the tour. She had spent the last year touring with
singer-songwriter Harry Hamilton as one of his back up singers. They had
toured every major city in North America, now he was headed to Europe, but,
because of some complicated union rule he was not able to take his back up
singers to Europe and would audition for European back up singers once he
landed.

She was out of a job, her agent had mentioned some commercials where she
might be able to get her an audition for, but there was nothing
‘concrete’ on the horizon for her. Being on the road had been
hard, it drove the final coffin nail into her nearly four year relationship
with Bradley, he had, she found out waited at least a week after she left
to go on tour, to fuck her best friend. They were still together and
blissfully happy, or so she had been told. She’d miss Angie! She
sighed and sipped her third mug of the now overcooked stale black coffee.

She searched for her purse, and found it stuffed behind the sofa with
her mail, and latest copy of Variety. Bills, credit card statements
nothing of interest, no Hi Arleen your long lost Uncle has named you the
only heir to his multi million dollar estate, please contact us at 555-1234
…. Blah, blah…..

She refilled her coffee mug with the dregs of the pot, and thumbed
through Variety, noting who had shafted who, who was sleeping with whom,
who was hot and who was not. When at the back she saw a square bordered
advert:

COUNTRY SINGER NEEDED The World Famous (one day)

ROS?IFFS TAVERN Seeks A TALENTED COUNTRY MUSICAN Entertainer Contract
will be discussed after audition Send CD or DVD to……

It was a Canadian advert. Ah what the hell, she had nothing on the
horizon, right? There was nothing to loose. She dug through her closet,
finding a copy the blurb she had printed on her computer and a promo CD and
she had cut a few years before, when she still had dreams she’d make
it as a headliner, in Nashville. She sighed self pityingly, yet another
steppingstone to mediocrity. Still singing back up and making jingles beat
waiting tables or taking off your clothes for a living, right?

On her way to meet her agent, she popped the CD and blurb into the post
and promptly forgot about it. The meeting with her agent led to a little
work over the next few days singing jingles for under arm deodorant and dog
food, which helped pay the rent and restocked their depleted refrigerator.
There was also talk of some radio work.

A week later she had been asked by KLXJ to do some commercials. It
turned out to be a bitch of a day, the radio station for which she was
doing a jingle had a manic art director and he demanded that he sit in on
the takes. He was short and obese; he had tried to rub up against her and
it had taken all of her tact to keep him away without ruining her chances
for more work at the radio station.

The traffic home was bumper to bumper her nine year old Nissan
constantly threatened to overheat, typical of any bored nine year old she
reckoned. She looked forward to getting home, sprawling out on the sofa
and watching the CMT awards.



Shelly, her roommate was doing a short stint as a replacement in a
musical, and she had the place to herself. She had kicked off her sneakers
and just opened her second beer, and watched while Toby Keith took a jibe
at Natalie Mains of The Dixie Chicks before telling everybody he was just a
working stiff, like everybody else, and who cares if he owned two mansions,
his own jet and about a dozen sports-cars, his success had not spoiled him
or his family, and while they were thinking about buying a small Caribbean
island, they still considered themselves white trash.

The phone interrupted the pontificating white trash, Arleen who normally
would have let the answering machine pick up the call, but of course some
demented idiot with a baseball bat had destroyed it, she hit mute on the
remote and picked up the phone.” Hi Arleen Armstrong, speaking to you
live from her sitting room!”

A female responded at the other end. “Um, hi Arleen this is
Thelma Verren, from the Ros?iffs Tavern, my sister and I really liked
your promo CD, would you be prepared to come up to Ontario Canada for a
final audition? Well gladly meet your expenses.” She added.
“If you like we can have a return airline ticket waiting for you at
the airport.”

Arleen did not understand and stammered. “Huh? What CD, what
audition, what are you talking about?” she said warily suspecting
Shelly or one of her friends was pulling a prank.

“Is this Arleen Armstrong the country singer? You sent us a promo
CD in answer to our advert in this month’s Variety.” The soft
spoken woman on the other side of the phone continued.

Vague memories of posting off a CD and publicity blurb while hung over
after her birthday party surfaced. “Oh yes.” She responded.
“That’s right, yes,yes,yes, I’m Arleen Armstrong, sorry,
I was watching Toby Keith being an asshole to Natalie Mains on TV it threw
me for a sec, but yes of course I’ll like to come on up there,
I’m free after next week, I can fly up either on the Friday night or
Saturday morning, if that suites you?”

“Oh that’s so cool, let me see what I can arrange with the
airline, can you hang on a sec?”

Arleen could hear Thelma Verren’s muffled voice even though she
held her hand over the phone. “Mel, she says she can come the
weekend after next, its two weeks before we open, its perfect, get hold of
Air Canada see when you can get a ticket, she’s holding on.”

After a minute or two, Thelma spoke to her again. “Hi again. We
can get you on the Friday night flight; it leaves Nashville at 6:00 PM you
have to change planes in Rochester New York, and should arrive at Toronto
10:00 PM. My sister will drive down and meet you at the airport. When you
get to Nashville airport, just give the Westjet counter your name and this
code RC46732, they’ll have your ticket, transfers and stuff, is that
ok?”
Arleen was all professional by that time.” That sounds perfect, I
will contact my agent and see about a work permits and what documentation
I’ll need in the mean time, I look forward to meeting both you and
your sister the weekend after next, thank you both for giving me the

opportunity.”

“We look forward to meeting you too, bye, now.” Thelma said
as she put down the phone.

Carefully Arleen wrote RC46732 on her calendar for the following Friday,
and settled down to watch the awards show.

The two weeks went by fast enough, her Agent gave her information about
working in Canada and gave her some forms and documents she’d need if
she wanted to work in Canada for more than three months, as well as the
necessary contact and fax numbers. By 6:30 on Friday her plane was rolling
along the runway. Her guitars and amplifier being the bulk of her luggage
was in the cargo hold. She was in time to catch the New York transfer, and
enjoyed a glass of wine and a few elegantly prepared sandwiches that tasted
like cardboard during the short flight from Rochester to Toronto.

She walked into the Terminal carrying her overnight bag of clothes, and
was happy to see that her equipment had arrived safely with her in Toronto,
and was already rattling around the baggage rotunda and had not flying out
to some exotic destination like Freezeyerassoff in Iceland, Fuckenmuddy in
Brazil or Yourawanka in Australia.

She picked up her instruments, mixer board and amp and wandered along to
the exit with the hundred odd passengers, from her flight. A young woman
stood to one side with a number of uniformed limo chauffeurs holding a sign
“Arleen Armstrong”. Arleen estimated she was somewhere in
twenties with curly dark hair. She was short, just over 5’ Arleen
guessed. Her eyes were green, with a cute turned up nose, her lips wide
and sexy, her boobs, beneath a thin silvery blouse were generous and proud,
her designer jeans, showed her figure off extremely well. When Arleen drew
nearer she noticed that her large eyes were green and flecked with gold and
her skin unblemished and unadorned by any cosmetics.

“Hi there, I’m Arleen, are you Mel?” She asked.

“Hi Arleen, uh huh, yeah, I’m Melody Verren, welcome to
Canada, eh. I hope you enjoyed your flight. Can I help you with your
stuff, it looks heavy.”

Arleen unburdened herself of the amplifier and cased mixer board; the
amp was designed to be pulled along on recessed wheels. Melody tugged it
behind her as they made their way out towards the car park.

They stowed her guitars and other equipment in the back seat of
Melody’s four wheel drive SUV and headed out of the airport and along
the freeway, making small talk. “Have you been to Canada
before?” Melody asked.

“Oh yeah we did Toronto as part of the tour, also, Ottawa,
Montreal and Vancouver.” she rattled off.

“Well we’re a little off the beaten track, our club is about
three hundred kilometers North of Toronto, in a little town called
Birchacres. We grew up there my parents died last winter in a car crash,
Thel and I have spent most of our time and money rebuilding it and bring
the place up to code. It’ll take about four hours to get there,
would you like to stop and get something to eat?” Melody continued.

“Oh no, it’s fine, I had something on the plane.”
Arleen answered politely.

“Well then let’s get moving shall we?” Melody said,
turning onto a wide highway and headed north. She pointed out various
landmarks along the way, Arleen found her to be a lively and animated tour
guide. Melody, she discovered, was not a garrulous type, and there were
often times of silence, not stilted silence but easy contemplative times
when it didn’t seem necessary to speak, she enjoyed Melody’s
company. Although it would have appeared rude, she stared at Melody who
was concentrating on driving quiet a bit during the trip.

It was close to 2:00 AM when the white SUV pulled up outside a motel and
Melody handed her the keycard. “We’ve booked you in here for
the weekend. Its room eleven. Sorry it’s not a Jacuzzi suite Try
and catch some sleep, I’m really sorry it’s so late; Thel will
call you around noon to set up the audition. Oh yes, I forgot you
musicians don’t go to bed before three AM and don’t get up
before noon anyway, eh?” She giggled prettily.

Melody helped her take her equipment into the motel room; it was medium
sized with a large bed and colour TV with a bathroom leading off opposite
the closets. It was neat and clean, and far better than some of the rooms
she had used while on tour.

“Well get some sleep, Thel will set up the audition in the
afternoon, see ya, eh?” Melody said while walking out the door. For
some reason it was an awkward moment, almost as if there should have been
more.

Arleen lay awake for a while, Melody seemed really nice, and she hoped
her sister would be too, it would be good to get out of Nashville for a
while, even this weekend, although it was also an audition seemed like a
vacation. These thoughts soon lulled her to sleep.

She rolled out of bed around 10:00 she showered and dressed in black
jeans and a tooled leather belt with an oversized oval western buckle and a
simple white tee-shirt and slid into a pair of fancy stitched high heeled
black western boots that matched her belt; she used the room’s
hairdryer to blow-dry her hair, before venturing out. It was a shock. The
temperature was close to 100 degrees. The Birchacres Motel was just off a
long straight tarred road. About one hundred yards to the right was a gas
station and a Subway sandwich store and one hundred yards to the left a
MacDonald’s, and nothing else to see for miles but farmer’s
fields. This had to be a prank, ok a really expensive prank, Ashton
Kushner better watch out. Damn! She’d fallen for it.

She ambled over to the MacDonald’s and ordered a burger and fries
and a coffee. The young guy who took her order, who’s name was Dave
according to his nametag seemed to be the only employee; rushed about and
put her order in front of her on the standard brown plastic tray. She dug
into her jeans and pulled out a $10.00.

Dave, Employee of the month, verified by his picture against the wall,
shook his head. “No, no!” He said.” Thelma and Melody
Verren were running her tab; it was all already paid for.”

“What would have happened if I went to the sub place at the gas
bar? She asked Dave.

“Oh, they probably made arrangements there too, I saw Thelma or
Melody, I’m not sure which, stop by there after she came here
yesterday”. He said.

She sat down and ate her burger, and sipped her coffee wondering what
the hell she had gotten herself into.

She finished her meal and wandered back to her room and cranked the air
conditioner up higher, she took her acoustic Hohner guitar from its case
and practiced a few chords while tuning the strings before moving into
Gretchen Wilson’s raunchy ‘Redneck Woman’. She then took
her Fender electric guitar, plugged in her amp, and launched into a heady
version of Heart’s ‘Barracuda’. She continued practicing
with her acoustic guitar doing the haunting ‘Don’t tell me the
time’ made famous by Martha Davis, until the phone rang.

“Hi this is Thelma Verren, we have set aside all afternoon for
you, so tell us what time you think you’ll be ready, and I’ll
come and fetch you.” She said.

“Hi Thelma, thank you for the burger at MacDonald’s that was
kind of you. I’m ready anytime.” She answered.

“Well ok then, I’m on my w…. Ow! Ow! Jesus stop
hitting me bitch! I’m on the phone here.” Arleen heard a
couple of muffled ‘thunks’ before Thelma continued.
“Sorry about that. Melody is already on her way to fetch ya, see you
soon, eh?”

Arleen unplugged her amp, and put her guitars back in their cases. She
opened the drapes and sat on the bed looking at the road and farmland that
surrounded her, there didn’t seem to be any town nearby.

The white SUV pulled up outside the motel room after about ten minutes,
and Arleen grabbed her equipment and went out to meet it, as it Melody
climbed out Her face flushed. She wore blue jeans and a pink t-shirt with
Ros?iffs Tavern emblazoned across her ample chest in Burgundy letters.
Their greeting was awkward and stilted, again as if both women realized
that something was missing. Melody took the amp and mixer as before and
stowed everything in the back. They both climbed in silence and drove out
of the car park and onto the tar road and headed North again. This time
Melody seemed reserved and there was not much conversation, it was almost
as if they were strangers again.

The town was a few miles North of the motel, at a crossroad Arleen saw
the sign, Birchacres 5> they turned off the main road and followed the
sign. The Ros?iffs Tavern nestled beneath towering pinkish coloured rock
cliffs of a tall mountain and on the other side of the road the land sloped
down to a large blue lake and the town. The two story building was painted
an identical colour to the cliffs. “We’re here.” Melody
said unnecessarily.

With Melody’s help she carried her equipment into the bar. She
looked around the bar room. The ground floor was a large windowless air
conditioned square room with an oaken bar counter running the length of one
side, in the center was a good sized wooden dance floor, and against the
wall, opposite the bar counter was a small stage; the rest of the tavern
had chairs and tables. All the lighting seemed to be recessed or hidden. A
kitchen was situated opposite the ladies and gents rest rooms, altogether
it was well set out and looked like all the furniture and equipment was
new, and the walls smelled of new paint.

She was surprised to see Melody already standing behind the bar counter.
She must have moved fast, she thought. “Hi you must be Arleen,
I’m Thelma.” Melody said holding out her hand, and shaking
hands. Arleen realized that they were twins. Their voices were
practically identical, Thelma was the mirror image of her twin, but there
were subtle differences, it was the eyes; Thelma’s eyes were pure
green, without the golden flecks. She was slightly taller as well, Arleen
saw, on closer inspection, Thelma’s breasts beneath the pink
emblazoned Ros?iffs Tavern T-shirt were significantly smaller. Outwardly
they appeared virtually identical.

“Hi Thelma, pleased to meet you, shall I set up on the
stage?” She asked.

“Sure suit yourself.” She acquiesced. “Where’s
Mel?” she half queried

“She was right behind me, a moment ago, I thought she had slipped
past me and was you, standing behind the bar.” Arleen answered,
grinning.

“We don’t normally do the ‘twin thing’ wearing
the same clothes, it confuses people. The last time was at varsity a few
years ago. I guess today we just chose to wear the same, sorry if it
confused you, oh there you are Mel, are you ready to hear Arleen
play?” She asked her sister.

“Do you want John to come too?” Melody asked in reply..

“No it’s ok, I’m sure he’ll come when he hears
the music.” She said to her sister before continuing her conversation
with Arleen. “Plug yourself in and start whenever you are
ready.” She said, while hopping onto the bar.

Arlene plugged in her amp, and set up a mike, and began a few sound
checks, noting the readings on her mixing board, and dragging the sliders
up a little until the clippings were registering better and making for
allowances for the room size. She flicked on the drum machine and set it
before launching into of Shania Twain’s ‘Whose bed have your
boots been under’ and followed up with her own bawdy version of
Heart’s ‘Barracuda’. She switched to her Hohner and did
tribute to Patsy Kline with “Crazy” all the time looking into
Melody’s gold-flecked green eyes. She flowed it into Shania’s
‘No one needs to know’ but unconsciously changed the he for a
she in the lyrics, for no reason she could fathom. She continued straight
into Sugarland’s ‘Baby girl’ Finally she chose the Fender
again and ended the set by using her unique talent for mimicking voices to
do a flawless rendition of Melissa Etheridge’s ‘I’m the
only one’, that, if the artist herself had heard it, would have sworn
she had just sung it.

There was a stony silence from the audience of three, a man, who must be
John that Melody had asked about, was standing alongside Thelma, they were
holding hands. He was well over 6’ with wide shoulders, heavily
muscled arms and a narrow waist; dressed all in black, above brown eyes and
spectacles, he was wearing a pink baseball cap with Ros?iffs Tavern
emblazoned across the front in burgundy. He looked tough and confidant
enough of his manhood to wear a pink baseball cap.

Then simultaneously the three clapped. “You are hired!”
Thelma said.

Arleen stepped off the stage, and walked towards them, it was Melody who
asked. ”That was awesome Want a beer?”

“Coors Lite, if you have it?” Arleen answered.

“Canned, bottled or draft?” Melody replied.

“As long as its ice cold, any way it comes.” Arleen answered
her.

“Here ya go.” Melody said, holding out a dewy cold
bottle.” It’s colder than the draft.” She said pointing
to a digital temperature gauge on the draft tap that read 3.5 degrees.

Thelma was all business. “Can you do a six month contract, this
summer? Say from the beginning of July? Can we agree to $500.00 a night
with three one hour sets, Tuesday to Thursday and $750.00 for Friday and
Saturday? Three to four one hour sets from 10.00 PM depending on amount of
people et cetera, until we close at 2:20PM, the last call is 2:00PM we can
renew it after six months if we are still happy with each other.” She
stated before continuing, “Oh by the way, this is John Tompos, our
muscle, he’s in charge of security.” She said, punching him
left-handed on his enormous bicep, by way of introducing the man holding
her hand. He smiled at her, his teeth slightly skew.

“Um sure, six months is fine, and ok, after that, if we can get
along, we can talk about an extension. I don’t see a problem with
starting then either; it all depends on your Canadian Musician’s
Union agreeing to the contract, and their fast-tracking a work permit for
me. I have the documentation and a standard contract for us to sign, we
can fax them today with it still, but we’ll probably have to wait for
any answers. In the mean time I can fly back get things in order back
home. If Canadian authorities give us the go-ahead I can be here ready to
sing Sunday July 1st, if that’s ok with you?” she said.

She, Thelma and Melody filled in the blanks and signed on the dotted
lines, after which John and a blonde barmaid, who had just walked in,
signed as witnesses. Thelma and John went off to the office to fax the
documents, leaving Melody and Arleen once again together in an awkward
silence. “Um John is more than the bouncer, he’s Thel’s
boyfriend, and he does a lot for us.” She said “Can I get you
another beer? I want one myself.”

“Sure I’ll have one more. If you’re buying”
Arleen answered, her words sounded wrong to her, she was dry mouthed and
tongue-tied, she hadn’t felt giddy like this since high school...

Melody popped the tops off two icy cold Coors Lites and handed one to
Arleen, “It’s my bar.” The exchange took a little longer
than necessary, their fingers touching briefly during the exchange.
“You sing beautifully.” Melody complimented her while holding
the bottle out to her and gazing into her eyes.

Arleen blushed. “I was trying very hard to impress.” She
replied softly, while her face turned different shades of red...

“You succeeded, I wanted to sign you after we heard the first
Shania Twain song you did, you copied her almost exactly. Come; let me
show you the place.” Melody took her by the hand and showed her
behind the bar, the kitchen, and both the rest rooms before taking her
upstairs. Melody’s touch was electric, her hand was warm and soft,
Arleen found it hard to breath, and she followed dumbly.

The upper floor consisted of a large office at the top of the stairs and
what appeared to be two apartments. As they entered the office Thelma and
John were definitely not faxing any documents, they sprang apart, hastily,
John pulled his hands out from under Thelma’s t-shirt, while Thelma
snaked her hand from the front of John’s pants, and pulled down her
top blushing profusely. Melody apologized, backing out of the room. She
turned bright red and stammered, “I can show you my apartment, if you
like, Thel and John kinda like their privacy as you just saw.” She
said while unlocking the door to her part of the upstairs living space.
Her apartment was spacious, everything was new, the sitting room was
furnished with a burgundy leather suite, and an acoustic guitar was set to
one side on a chrome stand. An expensive black faced stereo and surround
sound speakers stood alongside a big screen plasma TV that filled a wall.
The kitchen and bathroom were neat and functional. Her bedroom was
dominated by a huge bed. Altogether it was orderly and clean. It appeared
she lived alone in there. They returned to the sitting room, Arleen
pointed to the guitar.” A guitar I see, do you play?” She asked
as Melody finally let her hand go.

Melody chuckled.” Not as well as you.” She answered. She
looked at her watch, “Oh lord! It’s six already, would you
like to stay here tonight…?” She turned red. “I mean
will you like to hang out tonight, perhaps have supper with me, I mean us,
me, Thel and John?” She stammered.

“That sounds nice; sure I’ve no other plans, what’s
for dinner?” Arleen asked.

”I was thinking of a fresh salad followed by sorbet ice cream.
That’s normally the summer fare around here, you’ve already had
your daily burger, or we could send John for subs from Subway or for a
pizza if you’re really hungry.”

“Salad and ice cream sounds perfect, need any help getting it
ready?” Arleen asked.

“Oh no its fine, it only takes a few minutes, I’ll take it
down to the bar, and bring the two love birds down with me, if I can pry
the two apart. Normally a few of the regulars drop by even though we
aren’t officially re-opened, we never really closed down, if that
makes any sense.”

Melody went back into her kitchen, Arleen, a little confused, went back
downstairs to find more than a few people had entered as had two pretty
servers, wearing the prerequisite pink Ros?iffs Tavern T-shirts. A
blonde haired server was popping caps of beer and pouring shots of Bourbon,
Vodka and all kinds of spirits as fast as she could, while a pretty red
head bustled between tables with a tray full of bottles. Arleen sipped her
beer, walked up onto the stage, picked up her Hohner and began the poignant
‘Travelin Soldier’. That particular song always made her feel
kind of melancholy and she stayed in that mode by doing a cover of Gary
Allan’s ‘Smoke rings in the dark’. She followed it with
Juice Newton’s ‘Angel of the morning’ before shaking her
self out of an emotional slide by changing to the electric Fender and doing
an upbeat cover of Alison Krauss’ ‘You say it best’. By
that time the bar was almost full, the crowd was not limited to the young
generation, Arleen saw a couples in their thirties and forties and gray
haired men in sweaty coveralls standing alongside casually dressed guys in
their twenties.

She leaned into the mike. “Hi and welcome to the Ros?iffs
Tavern, I’m Arleen Armstrong, I’ll be entertaining ya this
summer, so ya’all dance, listen, drink up and have a great time. I
don’t mind requests so let me know what you like, if I know it,
I’ll play it.” She said to her audience, and seeing Melody
beckoning her to a table where her sister and John the loving bouncer sat.
She rocked back on her heels a second before picking the Spanish beginning
to the Eagle’s ‘Hotel California’ on the Hohner, and
substituting Ros?iffs Tavern in the lyrics for Hotel California, her
southern accent making it sound like roh-zay k-liffs-ta-verrr-na, instead
of hoh-tel cala-forrr-nia and then stepping off the stage and sauntering to
the table while the crowd clapped and cheered.

She sat alongside Melody and opposite Thelma and John. “That was
really cool, Arleen, thank you.” Thelma said. “It wasn’t
necessary, but it’ll be great publicity for when we open. I’ll
put an ad in the paper confirming you as our entertainer, if that’s
ok?” She asked before continuing, “I like how you changed the
words to Ros?iffs Tavern, instead of Hotel California, can you open with
that, the way you sing it, fits in perfectly with the tune. You are really
talented. Sit and chill with Mel, she’ll get ya back to the motel
whenever you like, if that’s ok?” She said.

“She’s awesome!” Melody gushed. She turned bright red
and started paying a great deal of attention to her salad.

When the meal was finished, John got up and returned with some beer
which they drank in silence. The crowd had swelled and he excused himself,
and began to fulfill his duties as bouncer, as the patrons got a little
rowdier. Thelma went behind the bar; even though more servers were on duty
they were getting swamped. Melody grabbed another pair of cold beers and
they sat drinking, not quiet talking but not really quiet, sporadic bursts
of conversation, followed by silence filled with promise and yet not a
comfortable silence either, both girls realized something was short. They
discovered that neither had a significant other, both loved country music.
Melody loved motorcycles; hers was parked behind the bar in a shed, and a
million other little things people having a couple of drinks tell each
other without getting bogged down with personal private facts.

They drank a few more beers and chatted, mainly it was Melody, pointing
out local personalities, giving her the gossipy details about who was
sleeping with who, who the local drug dealers were, the local hookers, and
trophy wives, who spent the summer in their huge expensive cottages on the
lake and seduced all the good-looking and athletic local studs while their
husbands worked in the city.

It was way after 11:00, Melody and Arleen were really enjoying each
other’s company and they had consumed more than a few beers, and
although Arleen was fine, Melody was sitting glassy-eyed and had slumped in
her seat and began to slur her words. Silently, Thelma and John came up
behind her, and gently led her upstairs. Arleen followed, as Thelma put
her sister to bed. “I love my sister dearly.” Thelma stated,
“But unlike me, she can’t drink, or hold her licker, for that
matter, after a few drinks she falls asleep. You must be a bad influence
on her” She chuckled, turned and went downstairs leaving Arleen alone
with Melody who had rolled onto her back and had begun to snore softly.

Arleen watched Melody from the sitting room, she sat on Melody’s
new leather sofa and picked up the guitar, and strummed a few chords,
testing and tuning the strings, and began intricately picking and crooning
Jim Morrison’s ‘Riders on the Storm’ until she too fell
asleep.

Mornings comes early in Central Ontario, dawn painted the pink cliffs a
pale orange, Arleen woke up to bright sunlight streaming through the open
drapes of Melody’s sitting room. The door to Melody’s room was
closed. She slipped off the couch and made her way to the bathroom. In
the bathroom vanity she could see she was a mess. Hastily she washed her
face and used her fingers to rake her long dark hair into some semblance of
normality.

She left Melody’s apartment and wandered downstairs, and was
surprised to see John sitting on the bar counter sipping from a mug, over
the smell of stale booze she smelled coffee, and John slipped off the bar
and poured her a cup, asking her, her preference with cream and sugar.
They stood beside the bar drinking their brew in silence, before John said,
“Don’t think badly of Mel, she just isn’t a drinker,
Thelma on the other hand, well, she can drink me under the table any day.
Although they are twins Thelma is the business brain, and Mel, well Mel is
a lot softer quieter, more artistic, did better at school too. Then
there’s that Thelma’s straight, but Mel isn’t, but make
no mistake, cut one, they both bleed, trust me, I found out the hard
way.” He said before continuing, “What time is your flight back
to Nashville?” He asked.

“I’m booked on the afternoon flight, direct, this time,
Toronto to Nashville, I guess I should pack my things and get out of here,
after last night I guess I’m not wanted.” She said trying to
comprehend what John’s comment about Thelma being straight but Mel
wasn’t, meant.

“Thel said you might feel that way, but that she and Mel both want
you here for the summer, so sure, lets go back to the Motel, and get your
bags, you can leave your equipment here if you like I’m sure Thel and
Mel will look after it, it saves you hauling it home on the aircraft, only
to haul it back out here in a few days again.”

John led the way to his pickup, they stopped at the motel, and Arleen
had a shower and changed into fresh clothes before he drove her to the
airport. The drive to Toronto seemed much faster, possibly because John
drove faster, the conversation and companionship wasn’t there like it
had been with Melody, and she was glad when John dropped her off at the
terminal and she walked into the departure lounge and had arrived for her
flight a good two hours early.

The flight back went without a hitch, she caught a cab home and was just
ready to hit the shower when the phone rang. Naked she answered, “Hi
this is Arleen.”

“Um hi Arleen, this is Melody, Did I catch you at a good time? I
hope you had a good flight back.”

“You caught me ready to have a shower, but yes I did thanks, are
you ok, you sound a bit strange?” Arleen asked.

There was a brief silence on the other end, before Melody continued,
“Oh sorry, I won’t keep you then; no I’m fine, I hope
that you are still coming here, John said you might have had second
thoughts.”

“No I’ll be coming up as promised, I never break a
promise.” Arleen replied.

“Thank you, I’m sorry about Saturday night, I guess I got
carried away a little, I’m really sorry.” Melody apologized
softly.

“Its fine Mel, honestly, I’ve been that way before its no
big deal. You should have been here for my birthday.” Arleen said.

“Um…… I would’ve liked to see that, I like it
when you use my whole name, Melody. Rather than plain ol’ Mel,
everyone calls me Mel, ” she said.

“I love your name, it really suits you Melody, I enjoyed out time
together.” Arleen said earnestly.

“So did I, I have to go now. Oh I sent you something, and
I’ve put your guitars, amp and things in my room, they’ll be
safe until you return. Speak to you later, eh.” She said, her mouth
close to the phone.

“Night-night Melody, thanks for phoning.” Arleen said before
putting down the phone.

She watched something trivial on the TV before falling asleep.

Monday turned out busier than she expected, but she managed during the
day to get hold of her agent and told her to contact the Musician’s
Union and tell them she was going to work in Canada for six months and that
she needed their help fast-tracking a Canadian work permit. Canada and the
US being neighbors presented a few problems but their respective Musician
Unions worked well with one and other as did their customs and immigration
departments. She had to visit the Canadian Consulate, where she paid the
required fee for the work permit, and was told she should have it within a
few days, barring any snag or outstanding criminal warrants. Since she led
a blameless life she knew for certain, except for a few paid traffic
violations, her criminal record was clean. She was told that her permit
should be issued within a week.

That evening she had decided to crawl into bed early. She could hear
Shelly and some guy groaning in unison, next door, on a squeaky bed, she
lay in the darkness and thought about the weekend and then she centered on
Melody, who seemed ….. When her phone rang.

“Hello?" Arleen mumbled

"Arleen?"

"Melody?"

They laughed together.

"What're ya doing'?" Melody asked.

"Is... Is that you? That is Melody, right?"

Melody snickered and said. “Yeah it’s me, not Thel.”

I didn’t think Thelma would phone me, and hi," Arleen replied
dryly, propping pillows up behind her head so she could lean back against
it.

"So what do ya want?" Melody asked, her tone accusatory .

"Me? What do I want? You called me remember." Arleen said
exasperatedly

"Uh huh, that’s true" she replied.

She was quiet for a moment, and Arleen could visualize her grinning.

"What can I do for you?" Arleen asked, it was most definitely a weird
conversation.

Arleen was about to speak again, when Melody said, "I dunno... Just
wondered what you were doing."

Arleen’s heart missed a beat, and she stretched out naked beneath
the covers and replied, "Um... Just got into bed, actually. I was just
thinking."

"About me? So you weren’t gonna call me? You were just thinking
about me, eh?" she asked.

"I don’t know, now, what I was thinking," Arleen replied quickly
knowing she had been thinking just that.

"No," she said. "But you were going to." Melody said illogically

"Yeah. I was.” Arleen replied

"Uh huh... and?" Melody queried.

"And what?" Arleen answered chuckling.

"And why were you going to call me?"

"I forget," Arleen replied.

"Oh man! " Melody sighed.

Briefly Arleen mused, if she had really wanted to phone Melody at all,
she knew she had been thinking about her.

“Do you want my private number?” Melody asked.

"What would I do with your private number, Melody?” Arleen asked.

“You can phone me on it. Write it down, dummy, 705-555-
3423” Melody demanded.

Obligingly Arleen wrote it down. For the next hour, they chatted,
sometimes giggling like schoolgirls and sometimes whispering Arleen lay
curled up naked under the covers.

"You sound tired," Melody commented.

Arleen yawned into the phone.

"Yes.” She whispered.

"And this from a musician who stays up all night and sleeps until noon.
Ha! Gotcha! Ok, seriously want me to let you go?" Melody asked

"Not really," Arleen answered

"It's almost eleven," she said. "What are you doing tomorrow."

"Working on a jingle for a radio station, whose chubby art director is a
sex maniac." Arleen replied.

Melody was quiet for a moment, and then she said in a soft voice. "I
like talking to you," she said softly into the phone.

"Good," Arleen whispered, “ I enjoy talking to you too.”

“Night-night Arleen, sleep tight” Melody whispered.

“Night-night Melody, speak to ya soon.” Arleen breathed and
put down the receiver.

The next day at the radio station was every bit a nightmare as the time
before, the slimy art director, tried to get as close as he could, Arleen
became adept at slipping past before he could slither any closer. Most of
the day was wasted, and the final product was less than perfect, never the
less, after being semi-groped and partially slobbered over half a dozen
times, Arleen was just about to let him have it, when the odious toad,
thanked her kindly and announced he was satisfied, and called it a day.

She drove home, her car once again threatened to overheat, in the bumper
to bumper traffic, she was really pleased to make it home, the needle of
the heat gauge, had risen very close to the red line, when she pulled in to
the parking lot. She checked their mailbox, there was an envelope from
Canada. She opened it while walking to her door. I was a card. On the
front was a cartoon goose holding its wings behind its back, printed on it
was ‘I have a surprise for you.’ On opening the card, the same
goose had opened its wings wide the card read, ‘ME’ Underneath
Melody had written, ‘I really enjoyed meeting you. Sorry if the card
seems inappropriate, But it’s about all I can find in our one goose
town. I look forward To you coming up for the summer. Regards Melody

Shelly was sitting in the sitting room when Arleen opened the door.
“Your girlfriend just phoned.” She said.

“My girlfriend? What are you taking about? And why are you
answering my phone?” Arleen answered puzzled.

“Since you don’t have an answering machine I picked up, it
might have been important. Yeah girlfriend! Some Melody chick who says
you spent the weekend with her, when you said you were going up North for
an audition, ohhhhhhhhh, serious lesbo action honey. Why didn’t you
say you swung that way earlier? We could have played carpet muncher
together, when the guys are out of town?” She snickered.

“Fuck off Michelle, it’s not like that!” She retorted,
clutching the card to her chest and stormed past her and slammed her
bedroom door.

She sat on her bed and fumed, she picked up her phone and dialed, it had
barely rung once before Melody picked up.

“Who is Shelly?

“Hi Melody, thank you for the card.” Arleen replied,
slightly taken aback by Melody’s tone. “Shelly and I rent this
apartment together; we share an expense, that’s all. Not that
it’s anyone’s business.”

“Ok, bye!” Melody said, clicking off the phone.

There was a knock on the door. “Arleen? Are you ok? I was
joking babe, don’t get all upset, it can’t be that time of the
month?”

Arlene threw the phone at the door. “Shut up Shelly, just leave
me alone ok?” She begged as tears began to flow, for some unknown
reason. She sat on her bed hugging her knees and sobbed softly.

“Jesus girl, what is it?” Shelly asked concerned, “Why
the tears hon, come on, tell me whats happening.”

Arleen shook her head, still sobbing. “I dunno, I just
dunno.”

Shelly sat next to her and stroked her long dark hair.” Its ok
babe, really, I’m sorry I teased you.” She said while stroking
Arleen’s head. “I never thought you were a dyke, I mean you
and Bradley were together for what, three years? “She said while
continuing to soothe her.

“But what if I am?” she sobbed, “I dunno Shell, I just
dunno I am so confused right now, just let me sleep, ok?” she asked
her friend softly.

“It’s ok with me if you are, nothing can change our
friendship, we’ve done some crazy things together babe, don’t
let it get to you, if you wanna talk, I’m here for ya, ok? Just know
this, happiness doesn’t come a knocking, you have to find it, and
then that’s your choice, it doesn’t matter if it’s with a
guy or girl, it’s your happiness. Don’t condemn yourself,
others will do it for you no matter which way you swing.” Shelly said
as put the phone back on its charger next to the bed and closed the door
behind her allowing Arleen to lay down fully clothed in the darkened
bedroom.

Half an hour later Arleen was still on her back, her eyes red and sore,
the phone rang.

“Arleen?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, I don’t know why I did that, honest. Are you
crying?” Melody whispered.

“It’s ok. “ Arleen sniffled.

“No its not, I’m really sorry, please don’t
cry.” Melody pleaded.

“It’s ok, honest, don’t sweat it.” Arleen
whispered

Arleen could hear Melody choking up on the other end. “Are you
crying?” She asked

“Yeah”

“Sorry”

“Sorry I made you cry. Gonna ring off now, speak to you tomorrow,
ok?”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, sure, night-night.”

“Night-night Melody.” As Arleen put down the phone, big sobs
burst the silence.

Shelly came back in, hands on her hips . “What the fuck is going
on?” she asked.

“I dunno.” Arleen wailed.

“Jesus girl; whatever it is, you’ve got it bad; come tell me
whats bugging ya.”

It came bubbling out in half sentences as the tears flowed. The
poignant silences the way there should be more when they greeted each
other, the wanting to touch and hold, being tongue-tied in Melody’s
presence, the changing of the lyrics from him to her. Singing while
looking into her beautiful gold-flecked green eyes. How beautiful she was,
the strange ache she had now that they were apart. The card and its half
subliminal message.

“And she feels the same way?” Shelly asked.

“I dunno.” Arleen wailed.

“Whadda ya mean you don’t know? Then find out dummy!”
Shelly said exasperated.

“How?” Arleen wailed again.

“Fuck me girl, what’s her number?” She asked shaking
her head.

“You’re not gonna phone her!” Arleen exclaimed in
shock.

“Damn right I am! Holy shit girl, I’ve never seen you like
this, I heard that you never even batted an eye when Bradley began fucking
Angie.” Shelly shot back.

“Please don’t phone her Shell, I’ll be fine,
honest.”

“Yeah sure, listen Arleen, if you want her go to her, find out if
she feels the same, if not get the hell outta there, come home, and
we’ll find ya some cute chick to squeeze, ok?

“I don’t want a cute chick , I want her, just her!”
Arleen began to sniffle again.” I just wanna be with her.”

Arleen finally fell asleep, her lips pursed like a baby, as she slept,
her body coiled in the fetal position.

The following day went pretty much the same as the previous one. Arleen
was not hungry, she pecked at a burger the radio station had had brought in
from some burger joint, the art director managed slither his hands briefly
over her blouse a couple of times, before, pulling the plug on the
production and calling it a day. Her car finally overheated and she had to
have it towed, all in all, not a successful day.

She could hear her phone ringing, while she unlocked the front door, she
grabbed it.”Melody?” She asked.

“No, It’s Claire, hi Arleen.” Her agent greeted her.
“I have good news! I have your work permit, and all your documents,
for your stay in Canada. Do you want me to post them to you, or do you
want to fetch them, Robbie at KLXJ tells me he’s not happy with your
work, and he’s abandoning the project. Pity that could have been a
permanent gig for you.”

“Claire, he’s a sleaze, my shirt has an oil slick where he
tried to grope my boobs, he can keep his regular gig, I want nothing more
to do with KLXJ while he’s there. Yeah, I’ll stop by tomorrow
and pick up the documents for Canada. I think I’ll go up a few days
early, now that things are over here, in Nashville. Is that ok?” She
asked.

“Sure honey, I wont be in the office, I’ll leave them in an
envelope for you, at reception, just asks my secretary. Have a good time
in Canada; let me know how it’s going, if you have the time.”

Her mind was made up, quickly she dialed, and the phone was answered on
the first ring. “Hey, it’s me?”

“Me who?”

“Don’t be a jackass, it’s Arleen.”

“I knew that, I was just testing you.” Came Melody’s
lame reply.

“My work permit and visa are ready; do you want me to come up
earlier?” Arleen asked.

“Let me ask Thel, care to wait?”

“No! You wait; I can’t do this crap, ok? I don’t
understand whats happening here. I don’t do innuendos well. Maybe
I’m reading signals that don’t exist, maybe I’ve got it
all wrong, I dunno, but you have gotten to me. If I’m making an ass
of myself, well I guess you can find yourself a new singer for your club,
so, ok, here goes, I’m attracted to you ,ok? But I am not a lesbian;
the only woman I ever kissed was my mother. I don’t understand
what’s happening, I sense you feel the same way about me, but you
never said or did anything to confirm that I’m right or wrong.”
Arleen took a deep breath before she continued. ”So don’t tell
me you need your sister’s approval.”

There was a long silence, before Melody finally said, “Ok.”

“Ok, what?” Arleen stormed.

“I won’t ask Thel’s permission. I’ll meet you
at the airport, when’s your flight?”

“Is that it? When’s my flight?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” Melody asked.

“No Melody, I want more, I need to know, what you want.”

“Ok, you need to know more? It’s like this Arleen, you say
you aren’t a lesbian, I am. You want to know what I want. I want
you, I did from the first night I met you. You say you aren’t a
lesbian, so where do we go? I have fallen in love with you, you say you
have feelings for me, but you don’t understand them, well, when you
do, let me know. I didn’t mean for this to happen, and I’m
sorry, I want you to be in love with me, like I am with you, but its not
easy, I understand, it’s a big thing, not just for you, for me, for
us, its far more than flying up here to work . I am ringing off now. Call
me when you’ve had time to think.”

There was silence, never had Arleen felt so alone, she stared at the
phone in her hand. Even though it wasn’t dark outside yet, she
crawled under the covers and went to sleep.

It must have been around midnight when Shelly thumped on her door,
waking her up. “Hey girl, get some clothes on, I’ve brought
home, some company.”

Sleepily, Arleen peeked around Shelly’s shoulders; she had brought
home two guys, who were sitting in the living room, drinking beer.
Unwillingly, Arleen dragged a brush through her hair, slipped into a pair
of faded sweats and gargled some mouthwash, and joined her room mate and
the two guys, in the sitting room. She was introduced to Elliot, who was
by his own admission an accountant, and Barry, who had paired up with
Shelly, and said he was a broker. A ball game was on TV, Shelly spent most
of the time, playing barmaid, fetching and carrying. As the evening
progressed, Barry began to fondle Shelly, who lay back, allowing herself to
be groped. Eventually she and Barry withdrew to her bedroom, leaving
Arleen alone, with Elliot, who was in his thirties, slightly overweight and
his hair had begun to recede. He leaned across Arleen, letting his hand
wander across her chest. They kissed. Arleen allowed Eliot’s hands
wander over her body; she felt nothing, there was no arousal at all, just
revulsion. She and Shelly had brought home guys many times, they had even
done a few kinky ‘sharing the same guy,’ or swapping men after
a few hours together, but tonight, all she could think of was a short curly
haired, green eyed girl with big breasts in Canada. Feeling Elliot’s
hand inside her pants made her mind up. She clamped her thighs tightly
shut, startling Elliot, as she pulled his hand from between her legs. She
stood hastily, shaking.

“Sorry Elliot, I can’t do this, I’m really am sorry,
I’m going to bed. I’m going to bed alone! If you want to try
go join Shelly and um, what’s his name? Um.. Barry, I’m sure
Shelly can take you both. Sorry, I just can’t do this.” She
left Elliot sitting on the sofa alone nursing his hard on, and went back to
her room locking the door behind her. She looked at her bedside clock; it
read 3:05 AM.

She dialed, the phone was answered after the third ring.
“Hi”

“Did I wake you?” She asked.

“No. What do you want?” Melody sounded sleepy.

“I want to be with you.”

“Ok.”

“Ok, what?” Arleen asked again, feeling frustrated and
remembering their earlier conversation. “Are we having D? vu
here?”

“Ok, what time’s your flight?” Definitely d? vu.

“It’s 3:00AM, I haven’t booked a flight.”

“Are you sure you’ve had enough time to think this through?
I don’t want you to rush on my account.” Melody asked.

“Melody?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s what I want.” Arleen breathed

“I’m an it?” She quirked.

“No. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, you tell me what you mean.” Melody
whispered.

“I mean I love you, I’m in love with you. I mean I want you
to love me, I mean I want to be with you, I mean I want to make love to you
and have you make love to me, to hold you, kiss you, go to bed with you,
wake up with you.” It came rushing out of Arleen’s mouth before
she could think of something smart to say.

“Ok, what time’s your flight?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve got one.”

“Ok.”

“Do you want me to phone now?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you say more than one word at a time? Can I phone you
back?” Arleen asked.

“Right now, all I’m good for is one word at a time. Yes of
course phone me back, silly.”

Desperately Arleen searched for the airline’s number, and made
arrangements for the earliest flight to Toronto, in the morning paying for
it on her Visa.

This time Melody picked up on the first ring. ”So?”

Arleen began to realize two could play monosyllables.
“Yeah”

There was silence, Melody caved first. “So tell me, when’s
your flight?”

“Tomorrow.” Arleen whispered.

“ I didn’t ask what day, I asked what time.” Melody
chuckled playfully.

“Morning” Came Arleen’s terse reply.

“When in the morning? Stop it now, it isn’t funny
anymore.” There was nothing playful in Melody’s tone.

“You started it, I catch the 10:00 American Airlines direct to
Toronto, I should be there at 1:00

“Ok, I’ll be there, don’t change your mind on
me.”

“I wont.” Arleen whispered.

“Hey.”

“Don’t start that again, Melody, hey what?”

“ Hey, I love you, Arleen.”

Arleen, felt herself tremor. Her insides felt like jelly, she croaked a
reply. “I love you too.”

“Sleep tight my love I’ll see you tomorrow.” The phone
went dead, as Melody clicked off.

Arleen realized she had no time left to sleep. It too at least an hour
for her to settle her affairs, and arrange a taxi to the airport. She
dressed herself carefully in new designer jeans and satiny off the shoulder
t-shirt that showed her cleavage off well. She slipped into her western
boots, and cinched the matching belt around her trim waist with the large
oval buckle. She peeked into Shelly’s bedroom. Both men were asleep
beside her, she closed the door, leaving her a short note thanking her for
helping her with her decision, and sending her, her love and gratitude,
finally leaving Melody’s phone number as her contact number.

The plane trip was spent sleeping untidily in the cramped seat alongside
a insurance salesman. The plane to