Different Circles

“Uh ... well ... yeah,” Jake said. “I didn’t really think that part all the way through. I kind of assumed that Stillson would advance me the payment.”

“Pauline told me that he laughed when that was suggested to him,” Jill said.

“Yeah ... my bad on that one,” Jake offered.

Jill shook her head. “If you go through with this purchase, I am still going to have to cash out a number of your certificates of deposit to cover the down payment. You are still going to endure some significant early withdrawal penalties, not to mention the loss of interest earnings.”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Like I said: my bad.”

After dinner that night, Jake decided to take a shot at getting hold of Laura. He had last spoken to her the day before leaving for Dallas. She was aware that he was going to Bogota to look at an Avanti. She still did not know how much the Avanti was actually going to cost. At some point he was going to have to tell her—he did realize that—but he was kind of hoping that point would come after the deal was already in progress. After all, it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?

He consulted a pocket calendar he habitually carried with him to see where she was on this day. On the page for April, he looked at the 15^th and saw that the Celia Valdez tour was currently in Bismarck, North Dakota, but there was no actual show tonight because it was an extended travel day. He then checked his time zone map. Bogota was three hours ahead of California. North Dakota was one hour ahead of California, which mean it was two hours behind Bogota. He checked his watch. It was 7:45 PM local time, which meant it was 5:45 PM in Bismarck. Which meant that Laura may or may not be at dinner, may or may not be in her room, where she may or may not have a lesbian groupie’s face between her legs. Well ... if he could not get hold of her, at least he could say he tried.

He picked up the hotel phone and went to work. First, he called the hotel operator, who transferred him to the international operator, who demanded credit card information from him before continuing any further. He read off the number to her, wondering dubiously if the number was going to be spread far and wide across Colombia by this time tomorrow, and then listened to a series of beeps and boops as she attempted to make the connection. Finally, in the earpiece, a phone began to ring.

There was a click and a faint female voice said: “Marriott Hotel, Bismarck. How can I direct your call?” The connection was scratchy and echoing, but he was able to understand her.

“Hi,” Jake said. “Can you ring Lynn Dolan’s room for me, please?”

“I’m sorry, who?” she said. “I couldn’t quite hear you. We have a bad connection.”

“Yeah, I’m calling from Colombia,” Jake said, speaking louder.

“South Carolina?” she asked.

“No, not South Carolina,” he said. “Lynn Dolan’s room, please.”

“Lynn Dolan?”

“That’s right,” he nearly shouted. “Lynn Dolan.”

Lynn Dolan was the name that Laura registered under when traveling on the tour. Using a fake name for hotel bookings was common practice among famous musicians, actors, and other high-profile people. It kept fans and haters and just plain weirdos from easily learning what room the celebrity was staying in and from calling them as Jake was now doing. The traditional way to come up with such a name—although not everyone held to the tradition—was to use your middle name for your first name and the name of the street you grew up on for your last name. Thus, Laura Lynn Best (now Kingsley) who had lived the first twelve years of her life on Dolan Street in the town of Pocatello, Idaho before her family (minus her oldest brother) had moved to Los Angeles, became Lynn Dolan. Jake’s name out on the road had been Glenn Sutter. Celia’s was Marie Vasquez.

The phone rang twice and then there was a click. “Hello?” said a female voice. One did not answer a hotel phone with one’s name—fake or real—while on tour. Though the connection was, if anything, even more scratchy now, Jake recognized his wife’s voice.

“Hey, hon,” he said. “It’s me.”

“Me who?” she asked, a little teasing in her tone. “I get lots of guys calling me out on the road. You need to be more specific.”

Jake chuckled. “The guy who is buying you an airplane with a bathroom in it,” he offered.

“Hmmm,” she said. “That narrows it down to five or six.”

He laughed again. “You’re funny,” he told her. “How are things in Bismarck?”

“Cold,” she said. “We flew in this afternoon and Suzie had to use the anti-ice boots on the wings. There is still snow on the ground and the high temperature was like forty-two degrees today.”

“You gotta love spring in North Dakota, huh?”

“Why would anyone build a city here? That’s what I’m wondering. The hotel is nice though.”

“That’s good. I never did a show there myself. It wasn’t economical back in my day.”

“Hey, their money is as good as anyone’s, right?”

“That’s the theory,” he agreed.

“Are you in Bogota?” she asked.

“Yeah, in the hotel right now. Just finished dinner a little bit ago.”