May 15, 2017

"Mate, why're you only in your underpants?" Harry laughed.

"Cause Mama was gonna make me go to bed," Noah pouted, crossing his arms as Harry held him. Noah was almost too big to be carried; Harry pretended to stagger under the kid's weight.

"Then we better get some jammies on and do that." Harry started walking towards the boy's bedroom while Noah released one hand and reached out to play with Harry's cross necklace. Hopefully Nataley didn't mind the intrusion. Had Joel moved in? Eyes roaming, Harry seeks evidence that the relationship that had begun in late January was stalling. Or moving forward. Both were possible.

"You gonna put on jammies too?" Noah continues running Harry's cross necklace back and forth on the chain.

"Hahaha. Nope. But if your mum says it's okay, I'll read you a bedtime story." Harry jettisoned Noah onto his bed and turned to grab some pajamas from the dresser, noticing Nataley standing at the bedroom door. He smiled at her, but wasn't able to read her expression.

"Pease, Mama?" Noah knelt on his bed, bouncing with his hands joined as though praying.

Finding clean pajamas in the second drawer, Harry twisted back to the boy and held the shirt out for him to stick his head through. "I can't see!" Noah laughed as the shirt was on his arms but not yet at his shoulders.

"Silly!" Harry admonished, yanking the shirt fully onto the wriggling body. "Put your feet in." The giggles filled his heart. Damn, he'd missed these moments.

Glancing at Nataley, Harry spied the singular nod of her head, but he also noticed her jaw was clenched. Uh oh. Was he in trouble?

"One book! Which shall it be?" He asked Noah while thoughts rushed through his brain at the same rate as a NASCAR driver. Why was Nataley upset with him? Loads of times he'd put Noah to bed when he'd been in town. It was their routine.

"Dis one!" Holding up 'Walter the Farting Dog', Noah climbed into his bed and patted the mattress next to him. "You sit here, Harry."

Following directions, the musician settled next to the five year old and began reading the book about a dog named Walter who was incapable of containing his farts.

"Do you think his farts smell worse than yours?" Harry asked after several pages.

"Yessssss," laughed Noah. "My farts aren't as bad as Mama's."

Resisting the urge to look at Nat's face, Harry finished reading the book. Tucking the covers around the boy's body, he pressed a kiss to Noah's cheek. "Night, night, sleep tight."

"Won't let the bedbugs bite," came the boy's response.

Tiptoeing to the door, Harry crossed paths with Nataley who was approaching to give Noah her own goodnight kiss.

"Harry? You come to my kindergarten gra-u-ation? It Friday."

Without knowing what had angered Nat, Harry didn't know how to reply. "I'll see, mate. Now beddy bye time."

In the living room, Joel was casually sitting on the sofa with one ankle crossed over his opposite knee, sipping from a glass of red wine. A second, seemingly untouched glass was on the coffee table. A third glass was not in sight. Definitely not even remotely a subtle hint, and Harry felt his petty side rising.

"Oh, thanks, Joel," he declared, picking up the extra glass and taking a giant sip. "That's nice. Tastes like maybe an Italian wine? Sangiovese?" Plopping his arse on the cushion near Joel, Harry rested his arm on the back of the sofa and crossed his legs in Joel's direction.

Surprise registered on the other man's face, but it was quickly masked. Kudos to the engineer. "It is a California Syrah," Joel explained. "I'm glad you enjoy it. I'll pour another glass for Nataley." He began to rise.

"Oh, she probably wants a beer instead. Not much of a wine drinker." Harry asserted.

"Really? Because she and I stayed in Temecula a few weekends ago, and she seemed to enjoy our time there quite a bit. That Calloway Syrah you're enjoying is from there."

"Ah. I see." Why had Nataley allowed Joel to think she was a wine drinker? He had hung out with her dozens of times, and she never had anything other than a beer except for the first time at his house when they had the wine tasting. Maybe she'd changed? Perhaps Harry didn't know her as well as he thought? "I'll pour her some then. Sorry for making assumptions."

"Harry? You're still here?" Approaching from the boy's bedroom, Nataley entered the kitchen just as Harry was getting a wine glass from the shelf.

"Just..." He couldn't find the right words at that moment; his mouth opened and closed like a loose shutter in a windstorm. Drawing in a deep breath, Harry finally forced words out. "Just on my way out. Thanks for bedtime with the little man." Striding to the door, he twisted the knob and pulled it open. Chuck ran to him, tail wagging. "Sorry, Prince Charles. I'm not your walker tonight." Patting the cavachon on the head, Harry stepped outside, pulling the door part way closed so he could push the dog's nose back inside. "See you tomorrow, Nat. Good to see you again, Joel."

Feeling oddly humiliated and sad, Harry headed for home. What had he been thinking? Or imagining? Of course Nataley would have her boyfriend over! It wasn't unusual, and why would they want a third wheel? Silly.

Once home, he poured a glass of tequila on the rocks and settled in his music room, fingers roaming the piano keys before giving up and climbing into bed for the night. This off feeling was probably because of jet lag. A solid night of sleep would help.

An hour later, he was still staring at the ceiling.

"Fuck."

Yanking on some workout clothes, Harry steered himself to his downstairs exercise room, cranking up the music and running on the treadmill until his mind was eventually as exhausted as his body. Curling up in bed after a warm bath, he fell into a fitful sleep.

Upon awakening, he wondered what the fuss had been last night anyway. Maybe he was blowing things out of proportion? Getting dressed, he contemplated the show for that night. This was the night he was stepping in for James to do the monologue. Sometimes he dreamed of what it would be like to host his own show. After all, he'd watched two of his closest friends do it for years now. Could Harry potentially be good at it?

No telling unless he tried. The excitement of the day's events were tempered only by that weird feeling from the previous night. Maybe his stomach had been upset?

Arriving at the set, he poured a cup of coffee and joined the writers who were working on the night's monologue. Stationed around James' desk out front, they parted like his hair to welcome him into the group. "Harry," one of them called out, "What do you think about a 'Side Effects May Include' segment?"

"Sounds promising. What's in the monologue though?" That was the top of his mind today. He needed to know he could pull it off. Not make a fool of himself. Although, would it really matter? Loads of times in the past, he had gladly made himself look ridiculous for a crowd. The number of times they replayed those videos of him falling down came to mind.

"How about you play the monologue as if you are James? And James can be you?" The head writer inquired, scratching at his beard.

"Love it! Oh, wardrobe!" James yelled, "I'm going to need something sparkly!" He waved jazz hands in front of his body to indicate where the shimmer needed to be, and Harry couldn't help but join in laughing at the joke made at his expense.

Once the chuckling died down, Harry agreed to the plan. "I'm nervous about landing actual jokes though. I'm not a very funny person."

"Nonsense!" Another writer commented, "We've heard you be funny loads of times. Nataley can attest to that. NATALEY!" Cupping his hands around his mouth, the writer hollered for the assistant lighting director.

"Yeah?" she called from the stage nearby, causing the group to turn as a whole in her direction. "I'm setting up the light bundles for tonight's song. What's up?"

"Is Harry funny?" James asked her, his pen resting on his lip as he waited for her reply.

"Only when he's not trying to be," she revealed, and the whole group laughed in unison. Harry felt a small stab at her words, though. What did she mean? Why was she being so cruel? Had he upset her? Pissed her off?

"We've got a joke about Russia and Trump, and one about Hillary Clinton. You have a problem with political content?"

"No," Harry responded truthfully. He was perfectly happy to poke fun at the president, especially not being a citizen or having a personal stake in the situation. "Did anyone see the story about Pirates of the Caribbean being held for ransom? The movie? Cause I think we could pull a couple of jokes from that."

"Yes! Good idea, Harry. Maybe some pirate puns!" The head writer furiously began scribbling on the paper in front of him. "Rated 'arrrrrrr'."

As heads gathered at the desk, developing the comedy routine for the night, Harry watched Nataley arranging large bundles of lights. What in the world was this setup?

"Nat?" he asked politely and somewhat nervously. "Um...what are you doing?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she shifted another light on top of the grouping. "It's going to look like flowers behind you, H. There will be these groupings of six lights clustered around a single center light. Each one will resemble a sunflower. We're planning ten flowers in all for some intense backlighting, so I need to make sure our key lighting and fill lights are set up just right." She pulled her gloves from her tool belt and slid them on her hands. "I heard you wanted the crowd to be close too, so that shifts our plans slightly."

"Oh," he twisted his fingers together, "Is that a problem?" The worry in his gut was growing.

"No. Not an issue. Just a change." Moving to one of the sets of lights, she withdrew electrical tape from her pocket and began making some sort of repair to the cord.

"I'm sorry." His voice was small, and he wished he had a bottle of water in his hands.

Stopping what she was doing, Nataley stripped off her heavy gloves and rested her hands on her hips, the gloves clasped in her right hand forming what appeared to be a third hand at her waist. Harry focused on it, unable to draw his eyes away.

"What is going on, Harry?" she demanded.

"Huh?" Confused, he drew his attention to her face.

"You've been acting weird since last night. What's bothering you?"

"I, uh, I just..."

"That. That's exactly what I mean, Harry. You're never hesitant with me. I've seen you do that with strangers and sometimes during interviews, but this is just me. Nataley. Nat. Your friend. So what the hell, Harry?"

Gathering his courage, he stood up tall facing her. "Were you mad at me for showing up last night uninvited and interrupting your date?"

"Huh?" Nataley tilted her head as her brow furrowed in the center, clearly bewildered. "Why would I be mad at you? Noah was thrilled to have you visit. You know he loves you. And of course you already know Joel, so it wasn't a big deal. You didn't 'interrupt' anything. If you had shown up any later, though, I wouldn't have allowed you in because he would have already been asleep."

"Understood." The relief flowed through his veins like oxygen. "So why did you ask if I were still there when you came out of the bedroom?"

A shrug lifted her shoulders. "Because I assumed you were tired, H."

Genuinely smiling now, he held open his arms for a hug which she quickly stepped into. "Apparently I was so tired that I imagined all kinds of nuances that weren't there."

"Eh. It happens sometimes. Lunch today still on?"

"Yes! What do you want? Should I order or should we go out?"

The weary smile that crosses her face is a reminder that she really does know him well. "You know as well as I do that we can't be seen in public together. I giggle every time I see something calling Glenne a 'mystery woman'. Let's order in."

"Sushi?" It had become his favorite meal, and he couldn't wait to see her reaction. Would she turn up her nose at it or give it a try? Somehow her willingness to try something he loved seemed important.

"Sure! I'm up for it. I've got to get these lights set up now though or you'll be playing in the dark tonight."

Pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, Harry returned to the coven of writers just in time to hear "If he does 'Side Effects May Include', he can do one about going solo."

Forty minutes before the dress rehearsal, as Harry was trying on the burgundy suit chosen for the song, Nataley entered the room quietly. She glanced at the gentleman standing next to Lou, then back to Harry.

"Oh, Sue. This is Nataley. Nat, this is my stylist, Sue. I mean Harry. Harry Lambert."

"Ah! Sue! Lovely choice on the suit last night, and this one looks amazing too. Looking forward to seeing what's planned for tour. Did you help with Another Man styling? Cause that was amazing!" The fact that she immediately called his stylist by the name Harry had originally used for introductions raised a glow in his heart. She was always like that: considerate of others. Even when she didn't understand fully.

"Thank you, my dear. You seem to have quite the eye for your own fashion," Sue surveyed her from top to bottom. "The high-waisted multi-button jeans with the shirt tucked in like that is serviceable yet flattering, and those shoes complete the look nicely."

As Nataley turned a bright shade of pink, Harry piled on the compliments, "She has a blazer she wears over it that dresses it up nicely."

Sue clapped their hands. "Yes! I can imagine."

Shaking her head, Nataley turned to Harry. "You haven't eaten, so I'm kidnapping you now. It was fabulous to meet you, Sue! I'm sure I'll see you again."

After changing back into his jeans and t-shirt, Harry joined Nat in the hallway. Grabbing Harry's hand, she pointed to a sink where they both washed their hands before Nat led him to a picnic table outside where Bethany was standing guard.

"Sit," Nat instructed, and he obeyed gladly.

"I'd forgotten," his sheepish words hopefully conveyed his disappointment in himself.

"Hush. You've been busy and engaged in the work. It's been fun to watch. But you need to eat. Unless -- are you too nervous?"

Picking up a piece of the sushi with his (now clean) fingers (she had thought of everything!), Harry popped it into his mouth, chewing and relishing the mixed flavors. "Oh my god. That's sooo good, Nat. Try it."

After she tried one, Harry watched her consider the unusual food as she rolled it around on her tongue.

While she tasted his favourite food, Harry answered her question. "I'm a little nervous, but not so much that it's overwhelming. I read once that nervousness is your body's way of honoring the importance of what you're about to undertake, and that makes sense to me. I definitely want to do well -- to make you and James and Ben and my mum and my fans proud. But I'm confident enough that I can follow the script and manage just fine. There's no improv in what I'm doing, you know."

Her soft smile relaxed him further. "You're going to be amazing, H. And for the record -- I'm already proud of you."