"The Band," (which I talk about on my webpage) is a project that's been in the works for years and has grown by leaps and bounds--it's almost its own little universe now, and the characters have branched out far beyond Ellie, Aaron, and Tyler. Without further delay. . .





"Coffee"



Gary George lowered his gaze as he passed through the crowded bookstore. Off work for six weeks now, the idle time on his hands was more stressful than his busy lifestyle had ever been, and he had to have some new reading material before he went out of his mind.



He wasn’t vain enough to think that the teens and twenty-somethings crowding the aisles would recognize him on site, but there were enough people his own age giving him a second glance that he wanted to get out of the store and back to the security of his home as soon as possible. The thought of being out in public didn’t make his skin crawl, as it had just over a year earlier, but he still was not entirely at ease, despite six months of non-stop touring.



Gary had just turned into the non-fiction section when a woman came barreling toward him, her head down as she examined the books in her arms. He automatically reached out his hands to ward her off, but she bumped into him before he could open his mouth, and her books clattered to the floor.



“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was flustered as she bent to retrieve the books. Gary automatically stooped to help, and the title of one volume caught his eye.



“A biography of Tom Clancy?” he asked. “I didn’t know they’d written one of these.”



She smiled sheepishly as she reached for the book. “It pains me to admit that I’m

even reading this, but it’s hard to teach contemporary fiction without at least mentioning his name, and, besides, some of his stuff is at least interesting, if not particularly well-written.”



“You’re a teacher?” Gary couldn’t believe he was asking questions of a complete

stranger—he was a very private person and things like that normally drove him crazy—but the question was out before the filter between his brain and mouth engaged. He guessed her to be a high school teacher, no older than about 30.



“I’m an English professor at the university. Katie Ellis, by the way.” She shifted the books to one arm to offer her hand, which he gently took.



“Gary George.” Katie’s eyes widened slightly, and he could almost hear the comment on the tip of her tongue, but he said nothing and she recovered quickly.



“Can I help you with some of these?”



“Actually, I was headed over to the café to look them over before I decide which ones I want.”



Gary paused only a second before taking a chance. “Great—can I buy you a cup of coffee?”



He saw the indecision in her eyes immediately as she glanced at him again. Was she trying to figure out how she recognized him, or was she trying to gauge his age? He was about to retract the offer when she responded. “I’d like that.”



The books lay untouched on the table for the next hour. Katie was 32, he learned, and a professor of contemporary literature and creative writing. Gary hedged when she asked what he did for a living.



“I’m a musician.” Honesty was the best route, he knew. Her eyebrows went up. “We’re not all illiterate.”