A N G E L (Roger Daltrey)

Twelve

Janice's POV

The phone receiver slipped out of my hand and clattered to the floor. The sound shocked me out of my shock and I scrambled to pick it back up. It was all quite shocking.

"Is everything alright? Hello?" Came Roger's voice.

"Yeah, sorry, I dropped ya," I breathed.

"So Chicago in three days?" He asked.

"Yes! I would like that very much." Out of nowhere, tears sprung to my eyes. I had so much going on at once that it was making my head spin.

"Okay then, beautiful. I'll call you once I get the details worked out!" Excitement ran through his voice like a fudge ribbon in your favorite ice cream.

"Okay. See you later, alligator," I smiled as tears dripped down my face.

"After while, crocodile!" He finished.

"Real soon, Daniel Boone," I added.

We laughed, and he hung up the phone. I held the receiver in my hands and cried as the dial tone played through it.

"Oh, honey, are you okay?" Edith asked me as she came into the room.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm cool. I know it doesn't look like it, I'm just feeling a lot of things and now I'm crying," I giggled.

"Okay..." Edith said, not looking any less concerned, "who was that on the phone?"

"Oh." I put the phone back up on the wall. "God, okay. It was Roger Daltrey."

Edith stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The, uh, frontman for that band me and Nance really like. The Who." My face was beet red.

Nancy came into the room then, listening to the conversation.

"The band you girls just saw?" Edith asked.

"Yes'm." I twiddled the ends of my hair.

"And the frontman is calling you on the phone." She grabbed a chair and sat down.

"So it seems." I said quietly. "And he's just invited me to go to Chicago with him in three days."

"Holy shit!" Nancy yelled, smiling broadly.

"Nancy!" Her mother scolded. "You may be grown, but you still live in my house, and I will wash your mouth out with soap, young lady."

The smile disappeared off her face like a magic act and her eyes widened. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry," she repeated.

Edith ignored her and turned back to me. "Honey, I don't know how much I can advise you to go to Chicago with a rockstar...and your mother's funeral is in two days' time already."

I sighed and smacked my hand to my forehead, then pulled it down my face. "I know this sounds cuckoo, but I really trust him and I don't think he's going to hurt me or kidnap me or anything, and I'd really like to go."

"Well, I'm not your mother, so I suppose I can't stop you. What would she have said?" She asked, smiling kindly.

"She would've let me go. She was crazy like that." I chuckled sadly.

Over in her corner, Nancy piped up, "Oh, wow. So I can't say 'shit' but Jan can go, like, nine hours away to Chicago with Roger Daltrey, yeah that all checks out perfectly."

"Really, Nancy Grace?" Edith arched her eyebrow.

"Whatever." Nancy stalked out the backdoor into the backyard.

"Who spit in her Froot Loops?" I muttered.

Edith laughed. "I don't know, but you know just as well as I do that sometimes she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and that's that."

"And we love her anyways." I added.

"And I love you, little lady." She rose from her chair and hugged me. "I couldn't bear it if anything bad happened to you or Nancy. You're my girls. But I understand you're growing up, and I really don't have the jurisdiction to make decisions for you especially."

"Well I don't want to make you upset," I looked at the floor.

"Oh, honey. Just go. Go and have fun. But please call as often as you can. It'll help me worry less." Edith smiled softly.

"Okay. I will, I promise. Thanks a bunch." I gave her another hug and then went outside after Nancy.

I found her sitting under a tree. She was leaned up against the back side of it, so I didn't see her at first.

"Hey!" I called once I saw her bare foot sticking out. "Would you like to get your head out of your ass and talk?"

Nancy peered around the tree, strands of her blonde hair sticking to the bark.

"I guess." She said flatly.

I plopped down in the grass beside her and immediately started pulling blades of it up. It's impossible to sit in the grass and not pull it up, I think.

"Why're you acting like a child?" I asked, straight to the point. I shredded up a clover and let it blow away in the wind.

"Because!" Nancy began, her lip trembling and her voice tight. "Because, like, I dunno! Because I'm all hormonal for some reason, and I think I'm about to start my period, and now you live in my house, and you're going to Chicago with Roger fucking Daltrey, and my mother is a freak, and, like, I dunno, man! I dunno." She cried like a baby, even digging her heels into the ground as if she were a toddler having a tantrum.

I just let her get it all out, though it was hard not to laugh.

"Are you done?" I asked once she had mostly stopped.

"Yeah," she wiped her face, "and I'm glad you're going on that trip with Roger. It'll be really groovy. Like, really super cool. Do you want to go make cookies?"

"Sure!" We stood up and swatted the grass off our legs and then headed inside.

"Alright, you're the chef," Nancy said once we were in the kitchen.

"Okay, does your mother still have the Betty Crocker book?" I opened the cabinet and started looking for it. "Oh, and go ahead and set the oven for 375°."

I pulled down the big, red Betty Crocker cookbook that everyone seemed to have in their house and Nancy preheated the oven.

"Alright, bring me a medium sized mixing bowl, please." I asked as I pulled out Edith's big Tupperware of flour and the matching smaller one of sugar. "Oh, shoot, we didn't soften the butter!"

Nancy pulled the two sticks of butter out of my hand and sat them on top of the warm oven.

"Smart." I noted.

Within an hour, we were surrounded by three dozen small chocolate chip cookies cooling on the countertops.

"Wow, sure smells good in here!" Edith said upon walking into the kitchen. "Goodness, you've got enough for an army!"

Nancy and I giggled.

"I think I'm going to bring some to Roger." I collected several from the first batch that had already cooled and put them in a ziplock bag. "Aren't these just the niftiest things?"

"When they zip right, yes." Nancy said.

I laughed. "That's true."

The three of us stood in the kitchen for a while, eating warm cookies and talking about ziplock bags. Eventually Nancy's father came in and joined us, and for the first time in a couple of days, I felt normal.