CHAPTER EIGHT

   They sucked him dry again in the morning, and then got ready to go home.
From breakfast they went straight to the airport.  Seventeen hours later,
tired, but happy, they climbed out of a taxi at the girls' home.  There was
a van in the driveway that had a home health care logo on it.  The girls
hadn't taken a key to the house, but the home health aide opened the door
with a smile.

   "You must be Gabby and Daffy," she said, grinning.  "I'm Nancy.  I've
been taking care of your mother for a week, since she came home.  You're
all she's talked about since I stared taking care of her.  You've made
quite a splash on the music scene, I understand."

   "We did our best," said Gabby, sinking down into a familiar living room
chair.

   "According to your mother, you did much better than that," said the
woman.  "She's been on the phone for the last week, more than was good for
her, I might add.  People have been calling from all over the world to talk
about you two."

   "That's all well and good," said Bob.  "And I'm proud and happy for you
both, but I'm going home.  I need a shower and about eighteen hours of
sleep."

   "Deliah said she wanted to see you as soon as you get here," said Nancy.
"She's sleeping right now, and I have orders to wake her as soon as you
arrive, but she really needs her rest.  Couldn't you stay for a while
longer?"

   "I've been gone for weeks," sighed Bob.  "I need to check on work stuff,
and go through the mail, pay some bills and all that.  Just tell her I love
her and I'll see her tomorrow some time."

   "She gave me very strict instructions," objected Nancy.

   "Tell her she can yell at me tomorrow," he said firmly.

   He turned to leave, and was engulfed by young girls who, thankfully,
only kissed him on his cheeks.

   "Thank you," said Daphne.  "We couldn't have done it without you."

   "I'm very proud of you both," said Bob.

   "I love you," said Gabby, sneaking her hand to squeeze the front of his
pants, which was shielded from Nancy by Daffy's body.

   Bob jumped, but forced a grin.  "I love you both too," he said.  Then he
fled.

   ====================================

   Bob was awakened by the phone ringing.  He let it ring, and heard the
machine pick up.  Deliah's voice came on the line.

   "Bob Hazzard, you get your butt over here!" she yelled.  "How dare you
do this to me?!  If you're not back over here in an hour, you're fired!  I
know you're there, you lazy bastard." Bob heard the girls' voices in the
background, saying things like "Mom!  Leave him alone."

   He looked at his watch.  It was eight fifteen in the morning.  He'd
planned on sleeping until at least noon.  The phone rang again.  It was
Deliah.  "I'm not going to stop, Duke," she yelled into her phone.  We have
a LOT to talk about.  If you don't answer your phone and get over here, I'm
sending the police after you!  Now get up and talk to me!"

   He managed to get to a sitting position on the edge of his bed.  When
the phone rang again he groaned and stood up, reaching for it.

   "I'll be there after I've had some coffee!" he said, without letting
Deliah say anything first.

   "Great," said a male voice.  "I promise the interview won't take more
than fifteen or twenty minutes."

   "Interview?" said Bob groggily.  "Who is this?"

   "David Matthews, from Music Insider magazine, Mr.  Hazzard.  I'm so glad
you agreed to be interviewed.  I can't wait to talk to you."

   "Hang on there," said Bob.  "I thought you were my sister, who's been
pestering me, and I don't know anything about any interview."

   "It was your sister who set it up," said Matthews.  "I thought you
knew."

   "I don't know anything," growled Bob.  "I just got back from being
overseas for three weeks, and would kill for four more hours of sleep. 
Call me later, okay?"

   He hung up.  The phone rang almost instantly.

   "WHAT!?" he shouted into the phone.  "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

   "Uncle Bob?" came an instantly recognizable voice.  It was Daphne.

   "Oh, hi," said Bob.  "Sorry.  I just got a call from some magazine guy,
and your mother's been calling too."

   "You really need to come back over here," came Daphne's worried voice.
"Mamma's trying to get out of bed.  She's yelling all over the place and
she's going to hurt herself or something."

   Bob felt his stomach drop.  The girls must have said something.  Deliah
must know what had happened.  He remembered her threat to get law
enforcement to come get him if he didn't come right over.  Daphne's worried
voice only added to his feeling of dread.

   "Okay, I'll get dressed and be over," he said.

   He hung up and chose his clothing for the express possibility that he
might be hauled off in handcuffs, and have to live in it for a day or two.
He'd already taken care of the hot button issues in the mail.  There wasn't
anything else he could do to prepare.

   When he got there, Nancy met him at the door.

   "She has to stay in bed!" she said.  "Get that through her thick head,
would you please?"

   Bob went straight to the spare bedroom, which had been outfitted with a
hospital type bed, both to make her more comfortable, and to assist in her
recovery.  She was on the phone, but when she saw him she made a hasty
goodbye and flipped the phone closed with a whack.

   "It's about time," she yelled.

   "Look, I'm sorry," he said.  He knew when she was in this mood she
wouldn't listen to anything he said.  He knew her well enough to know that.
She looked pale, and her body was still swathed in casts and bandages. 
"I'm sorry about everything.  I tried to do the best I could, but I wasn't
prepared for it."

   "What are you talking about!?" she yelled.  "You did superbly!  It
couldn't possibly have gone any better, you idiot!"

   "Would you stop yelling?" he asked.  "Just tell me what you want."

   Deliah took a deep breath, and relaxed back into the raised bed.

   "Bob, I've gotten at least thirty calls asking to book the girls.  This
tour made them go through the roof!  I've already got two more tours
roughed out, on paper.  I need to make plans to finalize contracts, and I'm
stuck in bed.  You're the obvious person to help me.  You did WONDERFULLY,
Bob.  I want to hire you as my new tour manager."

   Bob had been prepared to defend himself on charges of molesting the
girls.  He was not, in any way, shape or form, prepared for this.  He felt
weak in the knees, and stumbled to a chair beside the bed to sit down.

   "I can't do that, Deliah," he gasped.

   "What are you talking about?" demanded his sister, tensing back up.  "I
have to have you, Bob.  I won't be in shape to take the girls back out for
months, and the next tour could be scheduled as early as three weeks from
now!" She looked at the panic on his face.  "If it's money you're worried
about ...  don't.  Their fee has tripled, and all because of how this tour
went.  They never played as well as they did while you were with them. 
Even I was amazed when I got the recordings.  And the Bluegrass!  That was
a stroke of genius, Bob.  I've got people calling me wanting them to make a
whole album, just of bluegrass favorites!"

   Half of Bob was ecstatic for both Deliah and her daughters.  Their
career had gotten the jump start that could make them world famous.  But he
couldn't go on tour with them again.  The way they felt, he'd never be able
to keep from turning the tour into breeding season with Uncle Bob!

   "That's great Dee," he said, using the nickname he had called her all
their lives.  "But I can't go with them.  There are ...  problems."

   "Problems!" barked Deliah.  "What problems?  I don't have time for
problems, Bob.  This is the chance of a lifetime.  If things keep going the
way they are now, the girls could be set for life by the time they're
twenty!"

   Bob tried to think of a way to get out of this without spelling it all
out.  Obviously she didn't know what he had been afraid she'd known, and he
sure didn't want to tell her.

   "There are ...  personality differences," he said.  "It makes it almost
impossible for us to ...  function."

   She stared at him.  "What in the WORLD are you talking about, Duke?  The
girls obviously love you.  They talk about you more than they talk about
the tour!  They can't WAIT to get back on tour with you!"

   Bob closed his eyes and slumped.

   "Bob?" asked Deliah, her voice lower now.  There was the tinge of
concern in it.  "Duke?" she said, slipping, again, into the use of his
nickname.

   "Dee, you know I love you," he started.  She took a breath and he put
his hand up to stop her.  "I sort of stumbled on them while they were ...
prepping for a concert," he said.

   Her eyes got big, and her mouth went into an "o" shape.

   "I couldn't tell you about that, Bob," she said in an urgent whisper. 
"I'm sorry.  I should have warned you.  It's necessary, Bob.  It's part of
their performance."

   "Oh, I understand that," said Bob.  "And you're right.  It inspires
them, but ..."

   "But what?" she asked.

   "They transferred their attention from the pictures ...  to me," he said
miserably.

   "What?" she gasped.

   "That's what I'm trying to tell you, but don't want to tell you," he
moaned.  "We got very close on this trip ...  too close.  If I go out with
them again, very bad things could happen, Dee."

   "You had sex with my daughters?" asked Dee, astounded.

   "NO!" he said hastily.  "But it was all I could do to keep them from
doing that.  They got more and more insistent, and demanded things, and I
didn't know what to do, and I tried as hard as I could to control it and
resist them, but there are TWO of them.  I tried, Dee, I really tried."

   "What did you do, Bob?" she asked quietly.  "And when did you do it?"

   Bob blinked.  Her second question seemed completely odd.

   "Well, the second night I was so excited about how they played that I
just walked in on them after the concert was done," he started out.  "They
were ...  um ...  well you know what they were doing.  It was embarrassing
for all of us, but they wanted to explain why it was ...  necessary."

   Now that he had started, it wasn't quite as hard to go on.

   "Then there was a mix-up with the rooms and we all had to stay in one
room.  I was wearing the boxers you got me ...  with the little hearts on
them?" He waited until she nodded.  "Well, in the morning, I had a ...  um
...  well, you know what happens to men in the morning, right?" She nodded
again.  "Well, it sort of came out of the fly while I was asleep ...  and
they got up first ...  and they ...  um ...  saw it, and I didn't MEAN for
them to see it ...  but they did."

   He had to take a breath.

   "And then, they wanted to see it again, but I wouldn't let them.  But I
knew they played so much better when they were ..." He trailed off.

   "Horny?" asked their mother.  Her frown wasn't nearly as pronounced now.

   "Well, yes," he said, blushing.  "So anyway, I thought it would be okay
if I just put a picture of it in with theirs - I snooped and found them,
because I was curious - and anyway, I did that, thinking that would be
okay, that it might be all they needed ...  except they kept wanting more
..." He shot a pleading look at his sister.  "I screwed up, I know, but I
didn't know what else to do.  They were very insistent!"

   "I know how insistent my daughters are," said Deliah, her voice calm. 
"You said this happened for the second concert?  The one where they invited
you out on stage for the first time?"

   Bob blinked.  "Yes," he said.  "But I didn't ask them to do that.  I
didn't even know they were going to do that."

   "This is making a lot more sense, all of a sudden," said Deliah, almost
to herself.  "Go on."

   "Go on?" he whined.  "Do I have to?"

   "Yes, you do," ordered Deliah.

   "Well, they don't put on much to sleep in, and they're so beautiful, and
I know I shouldn't have looked, but I couldn't help it and I kept reacting
to them." His eyes got owlish.  "They KISSED me before the encore, and I
mean they KISSED me!" he gasped.  "And then they had a fight and Daffy was
half naked, and by the time I broke that up, she said I'd seen her that
way, so she didn't need to wear anything more than panties." He looked
about ready to cry.  "And they wouldn't LISTEN to me when I told them how
wrong all this was, but they insisted and the next thing I knew they were
touching it and ..."

   Bob stopped, panting because he'd been talking way more than he had air
to speak with.

   Deliah looked up at him.  "So, what you're saying is that my daughters
seduced you, and you couldn't help it, and it's all their fault."

   "No!" he yelped.  "I'm not blaming it on them.  It's all MY fault.  I
should have been able to do something!"

   "So why didn't you?" she asked.  He didn't notice that she wasn't
screaming at him.

   "I don't KNOW!" he shouted.  "Maybe it was all too new to me, this
concert thing.  They acted like I hadn't said anything at all when I told
them I was not going to do all this.  And they kept KISSING me!" he whined.
"And walking around almost naked!"

   "You said you didn't fuck them," said Deliah.

   "THAT'S RIGHT!" he said excitedly.  "I DIDN'T!" He looked glum again. 
"I mean, if this tour had gone on another week I'd have been a goner, but
it ended, and all I had to do was ..." He stopped.  "Dee, honey, you see
why you CAN'T send me back out there with them.  You can't trust me.  I
don't know how to fight this!"

   "You just said 'All I had to do was ...', but you didn't finish that,"
said Deliah calmly.  "What did you have to do, Bob?"

   "Oh, baby, please don't make me talk about that ...  please?" His knees
bent like he was going to get on his knees and beg, but he didn't. 
"They're still virgins.  It was all I could do to save THAT!"

   "Did you touch them?" she insisted.

   Bob ducked his head.  "Yes."

   "When was that?" she asked.

   "What?" He looked up, confused.

   "When was the first time you touched them before a concert?" she asked.

   "Paris," he said.

   "And what did you do to them then?"

   "They wanted me to beat off again ..." His eyes went wide as he realized
he'd just admitted to something she didn't know.

   "Again." she said.  "When was the first time you beat off for them,
Bob?"

   "Krakow," he said miserably.  "They wanted to touch it, and I wouldn't
let them, so they wanted that instead."

   "Now, what happened in Paris?" she asked.  Her intent gaze was lost on
Bob, who failed to recognize that she was acting very oddly for a parent of
two girls who had been ...  played with ...  in her absence.

   "Well, you have to understand that, because of the press, who were very
insistent, they didn't get to ...  um ...  recover, after the concert ...
in their dressing room?"

   "I know what they do after a concert," said Deliah.

   "They couldn't do it then, because of the press, so, when we got back to
the hotel, they kind of attacked me.  I kept trying to get them to stop
touching my pri ...  touching me ...  so about the only thing I could do
was touch them, so they'd have an orgasm and be done." He looked at his
sister, hopeful that she'd show some sign that she understood.  He had no
hope she'd actually agree.  "So I gave them orgasms."

   "That was after the concert," she reminded him.  "What did you do before
the concert?  To get them ...  ready?"

   Bob closed his eyes.  "I ...  uh ...  sort of used my mouth on their
breasts," he said softly.

   "I see," said Deliah.  "And is that ALL you used your mouth on, Bob?"

   He was toast, now, and he knew it.  "No, later, I ..." He stopped.  He
opened his eyes.  "Look Deliah, I did everything but fuck them.  Okay? 
They kept wanting more, and I tried as hard as I could to keep things as
safe as possible ...  to avoid ...  you know.  I succeeded in that, at
least.  I'm not proud of what I did, but at least I didn't fuck them." He
stood up a little taller.  "Now you see why I can't go out with them again.
I may have screwed up, but at least I didn't fuck them!"

   Deliah was quiet for a long time.  Then she sighed.

   "Maybe you should have," she said softly.

   "Beg your pardon?" gasped Bob.

   "Sit down, Bob," said Deliah.  "We have a lot to talk about."

   "What do you mean?" he gasped.  "I just admitted to molesting your
daughters!  You have to hate me!  What's there to talk about?  I'll leave,
and you'll never see me again.  That's all I can do!  All the talk in the
world won't undo what I did!"

   "Sit the fuck DOWN, Bob!" barked Deliah.  She winced as her body jerked
with her words.

   Bob sat like he'd been pole axed.  He looked bewildered.

   Deliah pointed to the dresser.  "See those tapes over there?" she asked.

   Bob looked, and then looked back at her, even more confused.  "Uh huh."
he said.

   "Those are tapes of the concerts," she said.  "I had them flown to me
daily.  I wanted some idea of whether this album was going to be a go or
not.  I was a little worried that the girls wouldn't play up to their ...
um ...  potential."

   "They played beautifully," objected Bob.

   "You have no idea," sighed Deliah.  "Bob, I've been around their music
for ten years.  I know my daughters, and I know how they play.  I know
about their little ...  idiosyncrasies, but I let them do it because I
could HEAR the difference in their music." She sighed again.  "Besides,
girls do that kind of thing, and they'd keep doing it even if I demanded
they stop.  I'm just their mother, and they're certainly not going to stop
because I tell them to."

   Bob nodded, but only out of habit, and to keep her talking.

   "Bob ...  dear sweet Bob," said Deliah.  "In all those ten years I've
been listening to them I've NEVER heard them play like that.  They were
INSPIRED, Bob, and they were WAY more inspired than they've ever been when
I was with them.  They were way more inspired than they've ever been
looking at pictures of men and pregnant bellies."

   She took a sip of water through a straw.

   "I didn't understand it, at first.  I knew something was affecting them,
but I didn't know what.  And the ENCORES!" She grinned for the first time
since Bob had seen her.  "I thought 'Now where the hell did THAT come
from?', and I couldn't figure it out.  They've never played like THAT
either!"

   "It took me by surprise too," said Bob.  "I couldn't believe it when
they said I was going to play with them.  I almost couldn't do it."

   "Well you did," said his sister.  "And you did some other things too,
and NOW I understand what was going on.  Bob, they were horny, but they
were LOTS more horny than they've ever been before, and it made a HUGE
difference in their music.  THAT's why people have been melting the wires
to get the girls back to Europe, and to Russia and even to ASIA, Duke!"
Deliah stared at Bob.  "They were horny for their Uncle Bob, and that
helped them be fucking BRILLIANT, Bob!"

   She adjusted her body painfully in the bed.

   "If I could get up, I'd kiss you myself!" said Deliah.

   "You're kidding," gasped Bob.  "You're not mad?"

   "How could I be mad at you for helping my babies be the best they've
ever been?" she almost squealed.

   "But they're your ...  babies," he pointed out.

   "Bob, they're teenagers!  Do you think they're not going to do all that
with some man anyway?  I felt VERY lucky that all they wanted to do was
look at pictures!  I had to watch them like a hawk, because I just KNEW
they were going to slip off and get in trouble with some boy, or some bell
hop, or who KNOWS who?!"

   She grinned.

   "But they didn't!  Instead, they took it out on a man I actually trust!
I can't believe the girls chose the only man in the world I could STAND to
have touch them!"

   "You're not pissed?" asked Bob, his voice almost whining.

   "I can only imagine what they'd have done if you'd have actually made
women of them," mused their mother, a crafty look in her eye.

   "Deliah!" yelped Bob.  "You can't be serious!  They're your DAUGHTERS,
for pity's sake!"

   "They're professional musicians ...  young women ...  who want to do
what all young women want to do," said Deliah.  "If being fully women helps
them in their career, I'd be crazy to try to stop them!"

   "This is insane!" Bob groaned.

   "Are you saying you're not attracted to them?" asked Deliah.

   "Of COURSE I'm attracted to them!" shouted Bob.  "But I'm their Uncle!"

   "Okay, so I need to get them on the pill, so they don't have your
babies," said Deliah calmly.  "I can get on board with that."

   Bob went stiff.  "Look, Deliah, I love you, and I said I was sorry.  I
can take you yelling at me, but it's just cruel to tease me like this.  I
had to fight really hard to keep your daughters as pure as I possibly
could. Why don't you just yell at me and get it over with, and I'll leave."

   Deliah frowned.  "Why is it so hard for a man to believe that I have my
daughters' best interests at heart?  They love you ...  that's obvious to
me too, now that I understand what happened over there.  I love you, and,
like I said, you're the only man I really trust to keep their best
interests at heart too.  Okay, so it's incest.  I've had the hots for you
for the last five years."

   Bob just stared.

   Deliah looked wounded.  "I'm a woman too, Bob.  I still have needs, even
if I never do anything about it.  And you're the best man I know.  I know I
sound like I hate all men, but you're different.  If I can fall for you,
like that, why should I be surprised that my daughters could too?"

   "I do not believe this," sighed Bob, scratching his head.

   "I need a concert manager ...  full time," said Deliah.  "You're the man
I want for that.  I want you even more, now that I know why my darling
daughters played like they were twenty years older and more experienced
than they are.  The recordings they made on the last tour have been
screened by the record producer, and he's salivating already." She smiled
gently.  "Bob, honey, you need to believe this, because I'm not joking."

   "But that means I'll have to ..." groaned Bob.

   "Have to?" Deliah giggled.  "There are at least ten thousand men who'd
beg to be in your place."

   "You know what I mean," he growled.  He blinked.  "You really mean
this?"

   "I know what this means," said Deliah, frowning gently.  "I know how I'm
going to feel when you go out there and get raped by my daughters.  I can
live with that ...  as long as you save some for me when I get well enough
that it won't kill me."

   "What kind of medicines are they pumping into you?" asked Bob, dazed.

   "Come get a taste, big boy," said Deliah, holding out the only arm that
worked, and wasn't swathed in casts.

   Bob went to her, but it was mostly by instinct.  He kissed her by
instinct too, and was shocked when she Frenched him.  Her eyes were smoky
when he pulled back.

   "You're a very inventive man, little brother," she said softly.  "One of
the first things you need to do is figure out how to give me an orgasm
without undoing what healing has already taken place.  As your boss, I
expect results ...  okay?"

   "Okay," Bob said weakly.  "I guess I shouldn't tell them until we're on
tour again, huh?"

   "I don't want them sore when they try to play a concert," said Deliah,
all business again.  "I want them to know what to look forward to ... 
AFTER a concert.  You already know how to get them ready for a concert. 
Now, get out there and do your duty!"

   He turned to leave.

   "Bob?" came her voice.

   He turned around, still looking dazed.

   "Remember ...  they're not on the pill yet."
   "Yes, Ma'am," said Bob automatically.
