After packing a huge lunch and throwing cans of soda and beer into a cooler, the four left for Wilton Sportsman's Club which was not located in Wilton, Illinois but actually in Essex. It had always made Terri curious as to why but not enough to ask the proprietor. On the way there they stopped by Wal Mart so Curt and Brent could pick up a couple of cheap bathing suits since they hadn't brought any with and whatever else they had was on the bus in another state. Curt grabbed a silly hat for his head also, he certainly didn't want his smooth, white, shiny head sunburned. They set up a mini-campsite near the beach at a picnic table under a tree. Terri and Curt ran into the water while Andrea and Brent made off for Terri's canoe. Together they pulled the canoe from the holding area and slid it noiselessly into the water then Brent helped Andrea in and got in himself. He grabbed one oar, Andrea the other and they rowed around the man-made strip mine lakes, watching the fish swimming underneath them, seeing the Blue Herons and white Egrets standing nearby hunting for a meal. The sun shined brightly and warmed both of their shoulders. When they rowed to the middle of the lake they could see Terri and Curt in the water. They were very close and kissing. Brent nodded towards them and then winked at Andrea. They rowed on and when Brent saw a secluded alcove surrounded by weeds he pulled the canoe over to the side. They set down the oars. He got up and carefully made his way towards her.

"Ever had sex in a canoe?" He asked sitting in front of her, taking her hands in

his and pulling her toward him.

"Brent, no." She said nervously looking around, resisting. He frowned.

"Come on, it's fantastic." She frowned back at him.

"No, don't do this." She pleaded. He pulled her again and the boat rocked. "It's going to tip over!"

"It will if you fight me, just come closer ..." He moved closer to her and she slipped

her hands out of his.

"No," she said backing up a little. "I don't want to do this, this canoe is going

to tip over." She said emphatically. He smiled. He was thoroughly enjoying this. Taking her in this little canoe was going to be sporting and she was going to love it, he decided.

"Come on baby, no one can see us. And I am hot for you, I want you right here, right now." He grabbed the front of her tank top and pulled her towards him

again. She responded by backing up some more, the boat rocked back and forth and they both stopped dead to settle it.

"Don't move so much." He ordered. "You are the one who's going to tip us. Now

stop fighting me and come here." The stern look on his face made her smile. He was serious about this, just as serious as she was that it wasn't going to be.

"Brent," she said giggling and then tried to be stern. "We are not going to make

love in this boat. Now, get over there and row us back. I want to lay on the

beach." She said pointing to the oars. His face was tilted downward, his hands on the sides of the canoe. He was looking at her from underneath his eyebrows, wanting,

needing, and determined to get it. He raised one eyebrow. He saw she was nervous - the prey, staring wide-eyed at him moments before he moved in for the kill. He made his move swiftly toward her, he grabbed her. The little canoe rocked. Brent lost his footing and they both tumbled over the side bringing the canoe with them. Andrea sputtered up out of the water and, seeing Brent next to her, punched him. He was laughing loudly.

"Damn you! I told you it would tip over." He grabbed her and held her,

still laughing.

"It wouldn't have if you had just let me get what I wanted."

They spent a full day at Wilton, eating, hiking, canoeing and then went home tired and aching for sleep. After spending three full days with Curt, Terri dreaded going back to work Monday and did so reluctantly. After getting up late Curt made himself some breakfast and then, feeling a spark of creativity, sat down with his guitar, pen, and paper and began to write. Andrea and Brent were at New Principals by 10:00 to see Lauren. She asked Brent if he had been practicing like she advised him to and he nodded 'yes' proudly. Andrea vouched for him.

"Good job." Lauren said and pulled him into the room for another round. "Let's see how far you've come in four days."

At 2:30 that afternoon, as Curt sat on the floor of the hotel room, his guitar in his lap and a pen hanging out of his mouth, a knock sounded on the door. He looked at it and frowned. He wondered who the hell that could be and stood up, irritated at the interruption. If it was Brent he would kick his ass for knocking and disturbing his concentration. He opened the door swiftly only to find Roberta standing there. She breezed into the room as the door opened and Curt watched her, his mouth dropping open.

"Roberta ..." He began and shut the door behind her. "What brings you here?" She looked around the room.

"Where's Brent? And what the hell has he been up to?" She continued her search going from room to room. Curt scratched his head.

"He ... he's not here right now." She stood angrily in front of Curt.

"When did he get out of the hospital?" She asked. Curt's eyes opened wide in realization.

"He didn't call you?" He asked incredulous. She squinted and frowned at Curt.

"No one called me. I called that Goddamn hospital and they told me he's been gone for two weeks!" Curt cleared his throat and began to pace slowly. He was going to kill Brent when he saw him. He was pretty sure he told Brent to call Roberta and he thought Brent was clear on that. Well, this is quite a mess he's gotten himself into once again.

"I'm sorry Roberta. Brent told me he was going to call you and I assumed he did or I would have called you myself." He said trying to smooth over the situation. She put her hands on her hips in frustration right as the door opened and Brent strolled in. He stopped dead, the smile falling from his face as he saw Roberta standing there. He noticed she was very angry and his defenses went up like a shield. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. She turned to him and glared.

"Well, Brent." She said, annoyed. "What have you been doing these last two weeks out of the hospital? And with whom?" She tapped her foot in expectation. Brent went over to the kitchen table and tossed his keys down. He turned to look at her.

"I've been having a good time. And it's none of your business with whom!" He spat the word 'whom' at her. Curt felt that it was time for him to leave before shit started flying and tried to excuse himself. "Where are you going Curt?" Brent asked him, begging him to stay with his eyes. Curt held his hand up to him and slipped out the door. Brent was now left alone with his very angry girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, he reminded himself.

"Well, you got yourself a nurse didn't you?" She asked and dropped her purse on the table next to his keys. "Goddamn you Brent. I've about had enough of this shit." He shrugged and cracked his knuckles nervously. He was dreading this confrontation but now that it was here he had to think quickly about how to put an end to this whole ugly affair.

"Roberta," He sighed. "You and me have been going our separate ways now for most of the year." He started to pace around the room. "You have your career, I have mine and I just ..." He struggled for the right thing to say. "I think it's time to move on, you know?" She shook her head.

"No, Brent, what's been happening is that you want to fuck anything in a skirt - or anything wearing anything with a crotch. I have been putting up with your shit for a long time and now you think you're going to dump me just like that. Over some fucking nobody! I will not allow this to happen!" She emphasized it with a stomp of her foot. He panicked. What did she mean she wouldn't allow it to happen?

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked. She looked away and she blinked away tears.

"It means that I won't let you go." She said softly. He felt a jolt.

"Oh, no, don't start that! I am not going to continue this relationship the way it is." He waved a finger at her. "I am moving on Roberta. Get it? M o v i n g  o n." She scowled at him, anger flickered in her eyes.

"It's not over Brent." She said, determined. He laughed.

"Oh yes it is. It's been over, it's way over, it's over, over, over." He threw his hands on the air. She moved toward him and slapped his face very hard. It caught him off guard and he stared at her, surprised.

"You son-of-a-bitch. You'll be sorry for this Brent. That's a promise!" She grabbed her purse off the table and made for the door.

"Don't talk about my mother that way!" He hollered at her as she stalked out and slammed the door behind her. He rubbed his face where she'd slapped him. Shit, that hurt, he thought. It had been years since a chick slapped his face! He slumped his shoulders and leaned on the table with both arms. Well, he sighed, at least that was over. He hoped she'd gotten the message. He was almost sure she had but Roberta was stubborn. When she wanted something bad enough she didn't stop until she got it as evidenced by how far she'd gotten in the music and television industry. He went over to the couch and lay down. He was getting a headache and his throat was hurting from therapy. He rested his arm across his eyes. He needed an Advil but was too upset to even get up and get himself one.

Curt watched the front door of the hotel from a table by the window in a coffeehouse across the street. He waited until he saw Roberta exit, get into a rental car and zoom away. She looked pissed. He got up and went back to the room. As he entered he saw Brent laying on the couch. He slammed the door and Brent jumped up defensively. When he saw it was just Curt he sat back down.

"I am going to kill you ..." Curt said moving towards him ....

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