End

Part Fourteen

A week later Mike was unpacked and settled again, relieved to be sleeping in his own bed after four months on the road. He was alone in the house for the afternoon. Micky had gone out mysteriously, and Davy was on the beach chatting with his latest girlfriend.

Mike sat on the window seat and peered out at the ocean. A pen was in his hand, a notebook in his lap, and he wrote vigorously. There was a knock on the door.

Mike ignored the first knock. It was most likely no one of importance, and he didn't feel like talking to anyone anyway.

The second knock made him jump and distracted him. Mumbling under his breath, he reluctantly walked across the room and opened the door.

A thin and very beautiful woman stood outside the door.

"Layla," he gasped, surprised. Since their mutual decision to break of the relationship before the tour, he hadn't expected to see her again.

"I heard you were back, and I thought I'd visit," she replied somewhat shyly. She turned her green eyes on him as he stepped aside to allow her in the room. "Did you get my letter?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yep," he replied. There was a silence for a moment. "Can I get you anythin'?" he asked.

Layla shook her head, auburn hair waving around her head as she moved. "No thanks, she replied politely. "I just came to say good bye."

"Good bye?" he repeated.

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm going home."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I figure - I guess I'm not cut out to live on land after all. I miss home too much."

Mike nodded. "I understand," he replied as kindly as possible. "I hope I'll see you again."

Layla smiled. "Oh, I think you will," she replied confidently as she turned to leave. "Good bye."

"Goodbye," Mike replied, waving as she left. As soon as she was gone, he returned to the window and picked up his notebook and pen, but didn't continue writing.

The back door opened, and Micky entered, grinning, and whistling slightly to himself.

"Hey Mike," he called as he headed into the kitchen.

"Hey," Mike replied. "You're in a good mood."

"Yep," Micky replied as he re-emerged from the kitchen with a can of soda. "Got a date tonight," he said more casually than he felt. "Great restaurant and everything. Great girl."

Mike nodded.

"The best thing about having money now is getting the opportunity to go to expensive restaurants and eat good," Micky stated, half to himself.

"Yeah, but don't let it go to your head," Mike warned. "It won't last forever."

"I know," Micky assured him. "She's a really cool chick, man. Her name's Jenny, and she's really awesome - fun-loving, sense of humor -.."

"Jenny?" Mike interrupted. "You mean the girl from the crew?"

"Yep," he replied, turning back into the kitchn.

Mike burst out laughing. "Did you tell Davy?"

"Tell Davy what?" Davy asked as he entered through the front door, hair still slightly wet from the ocean.

"Nope," Micky replied as he came out of the living room.

"Tell me what?" Davy persisted as he followed Micky out the back door.

"Come on man, don't keep secrets," Davy was saying as they faded from earshot.

The front door opened and Peter entered, looking stressed.

"Hey Mike do you have any soap?" he asked.

"What kinda soap?"

"The kind for washing floors," Peter answered.

"Ah-," Mike headed into the kitchen to search for the soap. "In a cleaning mood - eh?"

"Something like that," Peter replied. He sat down on the window seat where Mike had been sitting and glanced at the notebook. "This a new song?"

Mike re-entered with the bottle of soap. "Not yet," he replied. "Just words I had in my head.

Peter glanced at the lyrics. "Oh," he replied. He grinned. "Who do you know that's blue-eyed and blond?"

"Huh?"

"That's what the words say," Peter explained.

"Oh, that," Mike waved an arm. "Just put that in 'cuz it rhymed."

Peter nodded skeptically as he took the bottle of soap. "Sure Mike," he replied. "Sure."

Mike glared at him. "Didn't you have some cleaning or something to do?" he asked.

***

Peter stepped back from the kitchen, satisfied. It had taken him nearly four bottles of soap, but he had managed to get the kitchen floor clean. It looked shinier than it had when they'd moved in, he was almost certain.

The front door opened and shut, and Peter could hear the sounds of the kids running into the house - pounding feet and excited voices.

Joanne walked past him towards the kitchen. "Don't even think about going in there," he warned her. "It took me three hours to clean that floor and it is going to stay clean until your mother gets home! That means do not go in there while it is still wet!"

"But I need my after-school snack!" Joanne protested.

Peter pulled some money from his pocket and handed her a few dollars. "Here," he told her. "Buy yourself a snack. Just stay out of the kitchen."

Joanne agreed happily , grinning as she left the house and headed for the local convenience store.

"Bribery?"

Peter jumped. "Don't sneak up on me," he scolded.

Thomas chuckled. "I didn't think you'd stoop so low," he commented.

"Low?"

"Bribery, Dad?" Thomas frowned, shaking his head.

"I'm not bribing," Peter replied.

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"I'm not."

"Sure."