Four days later, Annette knew just what Myleigh and Trey were going through as she sat on the front porch of Jennifer and Blake's house, her laptop on her crossed legs, trying to sweat down the story that had come out of this interview. By the end of the first afternoon it was already clear that this interview was going to run more than any reasonable length of a single story, and she'd watched it balloon to what was now a five-part series that was almost impossible to cut. Each one of the sections had items in it that would mean headlines in the Tennessean, and that didn't include the story on Myleigh. There was even something for the sports page -- the announcement that Jenny Easton Productions was ending its sponsorship of Bubba Winslow at the end of the year.

That Jennifer, she thought. When she comes clean, she comes clean. Blake, too.

One of the most memorable parts of the whole four days came early on the first afternoon, sitting out in the shade by the lakeside just talking lazily, when she dropped the question of the stories in the tabs that spring. She'd done it casually, expecting a routine denial, and was already thinking about the next question when Blake gave her the last answer she could possibly have expected: "Actually they got the basic story right for once, but the details were mostly bullshit. I was gay when I first met Jennifer."

"That's why I hired him in the first place," Jennifer explained. "I didn't want to have to have a bodyguard to protect me from my bodyguard, so that simplified the problem. I knew I needed a bodyguard after Fred Knox raped me."

"Raped you?" Blake exploded, the instant fury evident. "I never knew that!"

"I never told you," Jennifer said. "I didn't need you killing him. What would I have done without you? He's dead now, and good riddance. My only regret is that he died a quick death up against a light pole with a snootful of cocaine, rather than one more appropriate, something nice, slow, and painful, like cancer or something."

"Jesus, Jennifer, if I'd known that . . ."

"I know you would have," she said calmly, taking him by the hand. "I still needed you around. I thought -- hell, I was sure -- Mike Monagan at Nashville-Murray had the same idea, but I had you with me by then. He's dead now, too, and at least he died slowly and painfully."

"Cancer," Annette submitted, amazed at the exchange.

"No, AIDS," Jennifer said flatly. "He went both ways, and that was back in the days when it was thought to be just a gay disease. Cancer was the story that Nashville-Murray put out."

"I still had some friends in the gay community down there," Blake said, obviously bringing his temper back under control -- but it was clear to Annette that if Monagan were still alive, he wouldn't be much longer. "It had a lot of them running scared. Apparently he infected several people, but it's a little hard to be sure."

Annette hated to ask the next question, but she knew she had to: "How did you react to being raped?"

"Like shit," Jennifer snorted. "What do you think? I couldn't tell anyone. You just saw that I didn't even dare tell Blake after I hired him. I was just a kid, I didn't know what to do, and I didn't dare say anything for fear that it would hurt my career. So I did the only thing I could think of. I hired a big, tough, gay bodyguard. It was the best move I ever made in my life. Blake put me back together, Annette. At the time, I was so scared of men that I don't think any straight man could have accomplished it. At that, I'd never have managed it if I hadn't moved back here and away from the craziness of LA and Las Vegas and Nashville. It still took years, Annette. Along the way, we fell in love. I never expected that. I don't think he did, either."

Annette was glad that her tape recorder had been running, for even after her many years in the business, she was incapable of taking notes of a revelation of this caliber. Knowing that there was still fury lying not far below Blake's surface, she hesitated for a moment, but realized that it had to be said: "You don't consider yourself gay anymore, Blake?"

"No," he said, surprisingly calmly. "Not for many years now. Jennifer is right. I never expected to fall in love with her, but I did. I fell in love with this incredible person, and the fact that she was a woman was immaterial. It was a little difficult to believe it was happening, but it happened." He let out a sigh. "A label like 'gay' is hard to let go of. I considered myself bisexual for many years, even though Jennifer was the only person I made love to, or even intended to ever make love to again, ever. It wasn't until relatively recently that I realized that 'bisexual' implies multiple partners. I only have one. It's been that way for well over a decade, and I fully intend to keep it that way. I'm not making any advocacy statement in that. People have to work out their own lives. That's how mine worked out, mostly through the love of this incredible person who taught me the power of a woman's love."

"Until the tab stories came out last spring, I never heard about that at all," Annette said. "I didn't believe it, then."

"It's been there for years," Blake said. "It never was any great secret. If someone had wanted to dig it out, it was there to find. For many years, we mostly thought it was nobody's damn business but our own, so we never made a point of it. Frankly I still feel that way, but the tabs dragged it out, so I feel I should set the record straight. It's long in the past, anyway. People change, Annette. We have both changed a lot in almost twenty years together."

"Do you intend to tell your son?"

"When the time is right," Blake said. "When he's old enough to understand. When you're young, it's easy to confuse lust and love. Some people never quite figure out the difference. I was lucky enough to manage it. I had the chance to build up a deep love for Jennifer before the lust built up. When he gets old enough, he'll have to figure it out for himself. His mother and I will try to help." He let out a little laugh. "I know my parents tried to help me, but you know what kids are like at that age. I had to figure it out the hard way, and I hurt them badly in the process. I'm still very sorry for that." He squeezed Jennifer's hand. "But, I did get lucky enough to find the person who showed me the difference."

* * *

That exchange had taken place four days ago, but it had set the tone for the entire extended interview. It had been totally unexpected and with an honesty that rarely came out in this business. It had been hard to write that part -- reporters rarely got statements that were that shocking, that deep, and that personal, especially off the cuff like that. And, that wasn't the end of it by any means.

In the four days, while she'd been a reporter, she'd also been a part of the household. Annette had enjoyed Blake's incredible cooking, and she'd held young Jeremy Walworth while he'd gone to sleep in her arms, putting her in mind of her own teenagers, long past those memorable days of babyhood now.

She'd sat with Trey in the recording booth in the basement and watched the Boreal String Band put together a number -- it was a process that she'd seen often enough before, but somehow, here, it was different. There was a good nature about this session that was stunning.

She'd sat with Trey and Myleigh as they played the current two hours of Canyon Tours -- it was incredible music that brought her close to tears at times with its intensity. She hadn't been able to offer any suggestions on how to deal with it, other than they consider a double album. But the interview with Myleigh, which was going to turn into a separate story altogether, had been fascinating -- Dr. Harris was a brilliant, complex, talented individual, and Canyon Tours only reflected a part of it.

She and Jennifer had visited the Record-Herald on paper day, and Brenda proved to be right -- Jennifer did indeed know how to run a Saxmayer, and Annette found out she hadn't lost the touch of pushing the string into the gripper finger in just the right way. There, she'd met Jennifer's mother and the Record-Herald editor -- and the stories they told just underlined that this was no act put on for her.

Annette also had sat in the hot room over Spearfish Lake Appliance, where Blake, his father-in-law Gil, Randy, and several others had gone through a light workout. She couldn't believe the incredible restrained violence, or how good a shape Jennifer's father was in -- at an age pushing seventy! He could get thrown around or throw people around like a man half, even a third his age . . . she resolved that she never wanted any of those people to get mad at her, but she soon realized the incredible self-restraint that went along with those skills.

One day, she'd casually agreed to accompany Jennifer "over to Wendy's for the mail run." She remembered Brenda's request to drop in and say "hi" so took the opportunity. Jennifer had given her the short tour of the town along the way -- and then she'd been utterly surprised to discover that the cheerful, businesslike girl that she'd talked to on the phone several times to make arrangements was a quadriplegic! And, quite a bright and talented one, too, with a nonfiction book -- about Brenda, of all people! -- in print and a fantasy novel "in press." In virtually no time a section about Wendy became a part of the now multi-part series that was going together on what it was really like "At Home" with Jenny Easton.

It had taken most of a morning to go through a long, blunt, and not very happy interview about the long and many battles with Nashville-Murray over artistic control and many other things. Like many young talents, Jennifer had been signed on the cheap, used for what she was worth, taken advantage of, and then left out in the breeze. Jennifer had battled back from that -- with Blake's often-silent help, she now understood -- and had developed a voice of her own, not something that fit into the Nashville-Murray image. Neither Jenny nor Blake said so in so many words, but there was a thinly veiled threat to initiate legal action over differences in payments on residuals from early albums. The allegations that were made were bad enough press for the company as they stood.

They talked about plans for the Jenny Easton Productions label -- and once again, Annette was surprised. While Jenny Easton Productions would stay in business as a parent company, Whispering Pines, Canyon Tours, and follow-up albums would be under a new label, "Dawnwalker," honoring the hit on At Home with Jenny Easton. "It honors friends who helped me see that I needed to head out in new directions," Jennifer said. "Myleigh is one of them." At that, Whispering Pines was going to have some changes on the label -- rather than being "Jenny Easton and the Boreal String Band" -- it was going to be "The Boreal String Band, featuring Jenny Easton Walworth." "They deserve the recognition," was all she was going to comment.

As that discussion went on Annette realized what this whole interview was all about -- an attempt to dump that old image of Jenny Easton, and put Nashville-Murray in the past. "I hated being Jenny Easton," Jennifer said. "I hate it even more today. I am not Jenny Easton, and I never was. The only reason I ever even allowed the name change was that I thought people would have a hard time spelling "Evachevski." It was one of the dumber moves I ever made. Those idiots at Nashville-Murray said it sounded like something off a polka album. There's nothing wrong with polkas. Years ago Linda Ronstadt made a mariachi album to show off her heritage, and I don't see any reason why I shouldn't do a polka album to celebrate mine. Maybe I'll do one someday." When Annette commented that it would blow some minds at Nashville-Murray, Jennifer snorted, "They deserve it."

But, that was still off in the distance somewhere. One bit of news that would be more than a little interesting around Nashville was that there would be no more "old-line" Jenny Easton. "Oh, maybe someday I'll dig out some unreleased stuff and put out a white album," Jennifer said. "But it's going to be years. I'm tired of people confusing Jennifer Walworth with Jenny Easton. Maybe that will help." There would be more "new wave" -- but it would be a still newer wave. Jennifer and Blake and the Boreal String Band planned to continue releasing albums, but they'd continue to explore new territory -- and, not only with that group. They were not in any great hurry, but they expected to continue to work with "niche" artists like Myleigh. In time, Dawnwalker might produce a half dozen albums a year, but those plans were still a little fuzzy. "We're interested in unusual music, but quality music," she explained. "Harp Strings and Canyon Tours are the kinds of things I'm talking about."

All in all, it had been one of the most interesting, exciting, groundbreaking interviews and experiences she could have imagined, and in the process she'd realized Jennifer Walworth was a far more talented and broad-based performer than Jenny Easton had ever been. Rather than race back to Nashville, she'd decided to take the extra time to sit and knock out the stories on Jennifer and Blake's front porch as the life of the house went on around her. That was partly so there would be the opportunity for clarification of any points necessary, but partly to enjoy the relative peace of the place, rather than try to pull it together in a hectic newsroom. The final draft and art would have to wait till she was back in Nashville, because some things would have to wait on space available. She'd managed the best she could here. Once more, she read over the familiar words.

Jennifer and Blake and Myleigh and Trey had left her pretty much alone to write, not wanting to bother her, which was appreciated. But she was not surprised to see the front door open and see Jennifer come out, carrying two glasses of lemonade. "Thought you might like some of this," she said.

"Thanks, Jennifer," Annette said. "You've been so kind to me, it's really been unbelievable."

Jennifer shrugged. "We like to treat our guests right. How goes it with the story?"

"Pretty much done for now," Annette said. "A good story, I think. It's going to open some eyes in Nashville. I e-mailed Tom a rough, and he really likes it. We're talking a couple weeks off, since it takes time to mark out space for a series like this."

"Good," Jennifer smiled. "Glad you could get something usable out of it."

"I think I did," Annette said, thinking hard. Finally, she let out a deep breath and said, "Jennifer, normally it's not my policy or the paper's policy to let the subject of an interview have approval of a story. But, you've been so nice to me, and there's so much there, that I'd appreciate it if you'd go over this and tell me if I've made any really gross and disgusting mistakes."

"If it's not going to get you into trouble," Jennifer said. "Otherwise, no."

"If you won't tell, I won't," Annette smiled, swinging the laptop around.

Jennifer took it, sat down on one of the porch chairs, and went through it carefully, sipping her lemonade as she read. It took a while, long enough that Annette started to get a little nervous, especially since she couldn't gauge from Jennifer's expression what she thought of it.

"Not bad," she said finally. "Not bad at all. Only one change that I can see."

"That business about a possible lawsuit of Nashville-Murray?"

"No, that was handled fairly," Jennifer said. "It's in the Myleigh story. Her college roommate's last name is spelled 'C-h-l-a-d-e-k,' not the way you've got it."

"That's all?" Annette asked in surprise.

"Annette," Jennifer said, "I told you this was your story and your impressions. There's a couple things there that I really wish I hadn't said, but I did, and the way you handled them makes them no big deal. It's the truth. I'm actually pleased that you've been kinder to me than I expected."

"No kinder than you deserved," Annette said. "It's kind of a shame I have such a limited space to work with and so short a time to pull it together. Have you ever thought of having a biography done?"

"Not really," Jennifer said. "I did kick the idea around with Wendy one time. I mean, she is a published author, and has shown she can handle this kind of stuff."

"And?"

"She doesn't really want to do it. There's too much there that involves knowledge of the industry, the people involved, that'd be difficult for her to get from Spearfish Lake, for the obvious reason. More importantly she's a long-time employee, and she's concerned about the obvious conflict of interests. I can't say as I blame her, even though she's a lot closer with Brenda and Carole than she is with me and she still managed to write a pretty objective book about them. Are you thinking about it?"

"The thought has crossed my mind," Annette said. "There's a good start, right here," she said, pointing at the laptop. "The problem with me is that it's a long way from Nashville, and I have a family. I've been gone enough already."

"Well, think about it," Jennifer said. "This proves you could do it." She stopped for a moment and thought. "In fact, just throwing out an idea, it strikes me that you might want to consider a collaboration with Wendy. You could handle the industry end, and your presence would keep it from being too 'in-house.'"

"It might work," Annette frowned. "It'd be a little cumbersome, though."

"You don't know Wendy well enough," Jennifer smiled. "She may be stuck in the house most of the time, but she's the most wired-up person I know. She has a virtual presence worldwide."

"I've got to admit, it has potential when you put it that way. Maybe I'd better talk to her about it."

"If you want to, I'll tell her I have no objections," Jennifer smiled. "If the two of you decide to do it, I just hope that you'll continue to be as honest and fair as you've been in this story," she said, pointing at the laptop. "Warts and all."

"You know," Annette said, "I never expected to hear that from Jenny Easton."

"You didn't," Jennifer smiled. "Jenny would never have told you that."

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