The Gemini

56 - Shatter

August 4, 1991

Jody's high as a kite. Hopped up on cold medicine. She's sick as a dog and her current prettified state covered it all. One wouldn't know that just a few hours prior to this she had been laid out in bed, coughing and sneezing her head off. Two Kleenex boxes and a waste basket overflowing with used tissues had been her only company.

For three days she's had this cold. Even though she's followed all of the get better rules, in addition to Roger's vitamin C and 'suspiciously healthy stuff in a glass' regimen, the sickness only seemed to get worse. But she got out of her loungewear and into a sexy getup anyway because Roger wanted her here with him.

He felt like throwing a party, so he did. It transitioned into a sort of listening party for Diamonds and Pearls. All of the hottest whosits and whatsits in the biz showed up for the festivities. Though there are more than a few familiar acquaintances present, Jody mostly stuck with Roger who kept her from dozing off in a corner.

Besides, conversation wouldn't be too pleasant. Being completely congested, there isn't much difference between her voice and Chuckie Finster's.

Despite her sticking to him, Roger kept a distant nearness. He did not want to get sick. He detested the possibility so much so that at night, he made certain that Jody stayed to her side of their king bed. At the start her sickness, he had half jokingly mentioned her sleeping in one of the other rooms.

When he'd told her, "It's that serious?", she'd asked.

His dry answer, "Yes."

There was no time to be down. He barely had anytime to sleep. Next week he kicks off a four city mini tour. The VMAs are next month and right before that, he's doing Arsenio. Then of course he was still in the studio. Oh yeah and, in between all of that, he promised to squeeze in as much wedding prep as he could.

Jody's handsome little busy bee.

She didn't think on their past much anymore but when she did, it was on comparative things that she now found funny.

One such thing: the way she used to occasionally complain about him spending so much time in the studio. At least back then they were in the same building; now he was always off somewhere else. The Jody of old would've bellyached in private and been standoffish toward him about that.

But not now. She had grown.

Now she had a much deeper understanding and acceptance of Roger and the way he functioned. Especially after he'd told he that it felt as though he could never truly relax; feeling as though at any moment he could create a masterpiece. From then on she dedicated to learning how he ticked and in turn learned how best to tock along with him. Which is why she was warming to the idea of dancing for him officially.

With him being a workaholic, her taking on that role would really be the only way they would get anywhere close to 24/7 with each other. Besides, dancing for him isn't as pressuring as she thought it would be. After having done a few more guest spots during his one-offs, Jody found that it gave her a thrill that she didn't know she craved.

Craved. Right about now she craved a bed and a pillow for her fuzzy minded head. She'd hung tough here at this party for an hour. If not an hour, it sure as hell felt like it.

"How are you feeling?"

Roger's question perfectly timed with her thoughts of snuggly blankets, silk slips, and syndicated reruns.

"If I said I want to go back to the room, how disappointed would you be?"

"Go ahead."

Though relieved, she doublechecked. "Really?"