Breakfast with Britney
SS by Amanda

Crossroads:
Breakfast With Britney - A Short Story

I love Louisiana mornings. The smell of momma’s flowers in the garden mixed with the aroma of the earth as it awakens. Somehow, I believe it’s different here. The smells a little more distinct. The sun a bit brighter. Whatever it is, nothing makes me happier than to be sitting in the back yard listening to the birds chirping on another morning at home.

Kicking my feet onto the lawn chair across from me, I pull the newspaper into my lap and settle into my morning routine. Without looking up, I take my coffee mug from the table and hold it just under my nose for a moment, letting the aroma awaken my senses, before I take a sip and put it back.

I read for a few moments, well glance over for a few minutes, and then throw the paper on the table beside my coffee mug, reaching for the sales flyers that I had saved for last. Ok, so there’s nothing like Louisiana mornings followed by Louisiana shopping.

“Momma,” I yell through the screened back door, not bothering to get up, “Why don’t we head into New Orleans today? We can have brunch at that little place you love with the huge cinnamon rolls and then spend the rest of the afternoon shopping.”

My eyes continue to scan over the flyers as I await her answer but I hear nothing coming from the inside. Lovely, she’s ignoring me. I throw the papers down and push myself up from the chair, my bare feet chilling slightly at the cold cement of the porch.

“Momma . . .,” I yell as I close the door behind me, my eyes falling on a piece of paper lying on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, I recognize my mother’s handwriting.

Went to pick up some fresh vegetables at the open market for dinner tonight. Thought I’d let you sleep in since you’re finally getting to sleep in your own bed. I’ll be home soon. Love Ya.

“Great,” I say, folding the note and slipping it into the pocket of my robe, “I guess she’s so used to be being gone that she doesn’t notice when I’m here.”

I feel Baby rub against my leg and I look down at her, “What am I talking about, I didn’t notice she was up either. I guess I should stop locking myself in my own little world, huh? If I hadn’t, I would be at the open market right now. You know how much I love that.”

She watches me intently, nodding her head as if she knows what I’m saying. I lean down and pick her up, cradling her in my arms as we walk through the empty house. I’m about to step onto the staircase when I hear the doorbell ring.

This is weird to me . . . . . I haven’t answered my own doorbell in years. I’m forbidden from it. “You never know who’s on the other side of that door.” Fe’s words ring through my head as I glance around like a child getting ready to do something they aren’t supposed to.

My hand goes to the door and I open it slowly, moving my head to the side to see out. The eyes of the two women before me begin to twinkle as they see me. They are as surprised to see me standing her as I am to see two strangers standing there.

“Can I help you?”

They’re quiet for a moment until one finally gets the nerve to speak, “I’m sorry . . . . we certainly weren’t expecting to see you here. We were just passing through Kentwood and thought we’d take a chance at meeting your mom. We weren’t even sure if this was the house.”

I instantly know she’s from Louisiana, that hint of Cajun spice evident in her voice. But I say nothing to them, only watching.

“Actually, it was a dare,” the other woman says, her accent distinctively southern but one I’m not so familiar with, “You know, I think that’s Britney’s house, I dare you to ring the doorbell and see who answers. We thought you were supposed to be in Baton Rouge, not here.”

“I was,” I say as I open the door a little wider and run a hand through my messy hair. Baby barks as she finally is able to see the two strangers. “I came here last night . . . but wait, how did you know I was in Baton Rouge?”

They look at each other and laugh, “You are Britney Spears. All it takes is 20 seconds and membership to ISJAB and we can likely find out where you are any time.”

I squint my eyes in confusion, “ISJAB?”

This time, my question isn’t met with laughter, instead they look at each other and lower their heads slightly.

“I support Justin and Britney.”

The words sting and I slowly nod my head, “Oh . . . . . ok. So umm,” I mumble, trying to find words, any words to say, “You’re fans?”

“Yeah. Long time fans. That’s why we’re here. She flew down from West Virginia and our first stop on our Louisiana tour is Kentwood. I guess we wanted to see how the other half of you lives.”

I laugh as I look down at my leopard print pajamas and old flannel robe, “Yeah well, this is it. About as unglamorous as you can get.”

“But it’s cool though,” the younger one says, “I think that’s what’s so intriguing about you is that you are so normal even though you’re so not normal.” As strange as that sounds, I know exactly what she’s talking about. “Listen, we’re probably really annoying you so we should probably just leave.”

“No,” I say as they turn to leave, “Why don’t you come in . . . . I give you props for having enough nerve to admit that you came and knocked on my door as a dare. You’re not mass murders are you? Or working for that crazy guy that runs World of Britney?”

They laugh as they shake their heads, “Thank God you know about him. It’s a constant joke on the board that someone needs to warn you whenever Ruben is anywhere near where you are.”

I open the door and they follow me inside, “Well, I can’t say that I knew his name but I’ve heard about him. My security guys know all about him though so they try to keep me as shielded as possible from knowing his antics.”

“That’s good,” the Louisianan says as we walk onto the back porch, “You seem to have an awesome security team.”

I smile as we all sit down, “I do. Actually, I have an amazing support team. I wouldn’t be here without any of them . . . . . . God that sounded like some acceptance speech for something.”

Waiting for the laughter to die down, I glance at both women, noticing their nervousness, “So you all know about me. What about you? What’s your names, where are you from? I can already tell you’re a Southern Belle so what part of Louisiana are you from?”

“Morgan City,” she smiles, “And my name is Ing.”

I reach my hand out to her and she accepts it, shaking it gently, “And you?”

“Amanda . . . . . from West Virginia.”

“Well Amanda from West Virginia, it’s nice to meet you. You know, one of my worst concert experiences was in West Virginia. A huge storm blew in right before showtime and the stage was covered with water. It let up some before I went on but it was still raining a good bit and I kept falling every five minutes.”

“Awww you did not, I was there. 98 Degrees opened right?” she says and I nod my head, “They kept saying all day that Hurricane Britney was rolling into town. I was amazed you went on but glad you did. I thought you were great.”

“Well thanks . . . . at least that’s a show I’ll never forget.”

“You know,” Ing says and I turn to face her, “It’s kinda ironic that we’re here. Amanda’s been saying for months that she was gonna come to Louisiana and we were going to Kentwood. And every time she’d say it, I would tell her that I wanted to have a nice chat with you when we did. I never really expected it to happen.”

“Surprises are nice,” I laugh, “So you have me here now . . . . what did you want to chat with me about?”

Amanda laughs, “You probably shouldn’t have gave her the go ahead on this. I’m sure you’ll regret it.”

“Shut up,” Ing giggles, “I’m gonna be good.”

“Just please don’t run your twenty thousand break up scenarios by her. We don’t want her to think you’re crazy.”

I watch the banter between the two of them, laughing for the first time in what seems like forever.

“Ok . . . . ok,” Ing says, “But I know what I know . . . and don’t act like you don’t have a million scenarios too.”

“Yes, but mine don’t really involve Justin and Wade having an affair.”

I burst out laughing, opening my mouth in surprise, “Justin and Wade? Interesting . . . .”

Ing shakes her head and leans against the table, resting her arms on it, “Ok then . . . I’ve been waiting a long time to ask you this.”

“Oh here it comes,” Amanda says as she places her hand on her head.

Ing ignores her, “I just need to know how you could possibly, in your right mind, give that up.”

“Or as I would like to think, how could he give that up,” Amanda chimes in.

I shrug my shoulders as I look down at my fingers, “I don’t know. . . . . I guess . . . .I mean have you ever come to a point where you look at yourself and realize that you’ve achieved every goal in your life?”

Their blank looks answer my question, “Really, it’s a rather scary thing. I’m 20 years old and I’ve done it all. I’ve sold millions of albums, I’ve been on TV shows, made a movie . . . I bought my own restaurant, my own house, my own cars. I even have my own plane. And one day I woke up and I looked in the mirror and all I saw was a girl who had everything and nothing at the same time.”

“I’m losing you here,” Ing says with confusion.

“Bingo,” I laugh as I point at her, “You got it. I lost me. And I decided that I wanted to be 20 and I wanted to be free and do what I wanted to do. I wanted to slow down . . . . . . and while I wanted to walk, Justin was ready to hop on the Concorde. It’s pretty hard to keep a relationship going when the paths your own just keep leading you farther and farther away from each other.”

It’s eerily quiet, no one saying a word as we all fight eye contact. A tear slips down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. Finally, Amanda cuts through the tension, “See Ing . . . look you made her cry.”

I cover my face as I laugh.

“She’s probably hit some secret button alerting Big Rob that she’s in trouble and we’re gonna be drug out of here any second.”

Ing glares at her, amused by her words, “She’s not Britney Bond, Amanda.”

“But you know what,” I say as I move against the table, “I kinda like the Justin and Wade affair reason better.”

“Well I’m sure we can give that one a little push, if you know what I mean,” Ing winks, “But anyway, I’m sorry if that question upset you . . . . I just have a little weakness for you two together.”

“A little?”

“Be quiet . . . . and it’s rather difficult being objective to both of you cause let’s face it, Justin’s hot . . . though Amanda thinks JT is Satan.”

“JT?”

She shakes her head, “Don’t ask. You don’t want miss Queen of Negativity getting started. I’ve done heard enough of the he’s disrespectful, he’s an ass speech from her today. You really don’t want to subject yourself to it, trust me.”

I glance at Amanda and then back to Ing, “Well if it makes you both feel any better . . . I don’t think he’s an ass . . . . most of the time. And I agree, he’s hot. And sometimes I agree that he’s Satan. But I still love him no matter what happens and I guess that’s all that matters.”

“See,” Ing smiles, “that’s a good sign. I have a good feeling about his.” She turns to Amanda, “And does that make you feel any better?”

She shakes her head and turns to me, “It makes me want to ask when are you getting yourself a hot new man to make Justin’s blood boil? And can that man be named, I don’t know, Anson or something . . . .”

“Oh no.” Ing’s words are followed by her laughter and I join in shortly. I wait a moment before I answer.

“Actually. I’m pretty happy being alone right now. It’s a big adjustment but I think it’s something I needed to do for me, you know. I haven’t been alone in a long time. And really, I’m not ready to jump into a relationship again.”

“Unlike someone we know,” Amanda says under her breath and Ing reaches over and slaps her arm.

“I wish him the world,” I say softly, “And if he’s happy, then I’m happy.”

Amanda shakes her head, “You’re a better woman than I am.”

“Nah, I’m just a woman who believes that all things happen for a reason. If Justin and I were meant to be together right now, we would be. And that doesn’t mean that five years from now we won’t find each other again but at this moment, this is right.”

“Maybe they’ll pull an Every Road . . . . . you do have that poison pen.”

I cock my eyebrow, “Every Road?”

“Nothing,” Amanda answers quickly as she turns to look at Ing, “Let’s please shut up now before we get ourselves in a Dilemma.”

Ing laughs for a moment and then glances down at her watch. She pushes her chair back, “We better get going. I’m trying to get Amanda to go to wrestling tonight in New Orleans . . .”

“Not gonna happen.”

“I’m hoping that once she gets in the city and has enough bourbon that she’ll do anything.”

Amanda shakes her head as she stands up from her seat, “This is why I should’ve never came here. We’ve already trespassed on your property and now she wants me to get drunk. Some friend you are.”

Ing says nothing, only laughing and then placing her hand out to me, “Thank you . . . . . it’s good to see that all the reports that say you are good to your fans are true.”

“No thank you. You take for granted your own freedom until you don’t have it anymore. I never imagined a chat with strangers would make my day.”

“Your day? You’ve made my lifetime.”

My heart warms and I begin to walk through the house with them, stopping as we reach the doorway.

“One more question,” Amanda asks as she steps outside, “Can I have Wade’s phone number?”

“You’re married,” Ing yells as she flails her hands in the air.

“So . . . . . I was ummm . . . . umm . . . getting it for Carolyn.”

“Uh huh, whatever.”

Amanda’s eyes move to me and she grins, “No that’s ok . . . . . you can just use it yourself. You know, he can be your shoulder to cry on. There’s no better comfort than a friend who loves you.” She winks and Ing pushes her farther down the steps.

They both wave goodbye as they reach the sidewalk and as they move away, I hear Ing’s voice again . . . . .

“Ok, I have a story idea . . . . I’m calling it Breakfast With Britney.”

I watch as they disappear behind the gate and then step inside. I rest my back against the door and then look down at Baby at my feet, Ing’s words now stuck in my head.

A story idea? Oh God, National Enquirer here I come.

feedback ~ lunch with Justin (part 2)