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Chapter Twenty Nine – February 1

My mom couldn’t have picked a better time to move. The day before, Nick had left for his promo tour. He’d be gone the entire month.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he murmured as he held me in his arms at the airport.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” I said, cupping his face in my hands for a kiss.

When I had gotten back into the car, I felt like I was missing a limb. Now I knew how Nick felt when I had gone back to Wisconsin. I had stayed at the big window until the plane lifted in the sky and I couldn’t see it any longer.

I was back at the airport the next morning to pick up my mom. I had swung by her condo on the way; movers were already unloading furniture and boxes. The moment my mom saw me, she was off and running.

“Where do I pick up my puppies?” she asked worriedly.

We had a guy help us with the cages and then I took off towards her condo.

“It felt so weird leaving the house. It was so empty,” my mom said a little sadly. We still had all of your height marks on the doorway to the kitchen.”

I patted her hand. “I’m just glad you’re down here,” I said. She smiled softly.

Luckily, she didn’t have much time to dwell. When she saw the movers, she was out of the car and directing them on where to put boxes and furniture. I carried in the dog carriers one by one. The dogs were still pretty drowsy; the sedative had yet to wear off.

“Where should I start?” I asked my mom.

“How about putting together the bookcase here?”

I spent the next hour putting together her old wooden bookcase. When I had finished she pulled over several boxes.

“These are my books and the family scrapbooks,” mom said. “Make ‘em look pretty.”

The books went up on the shelves quickly, but I soon got lost in the scrapbooks. I couldn’t help but wonder how much my daughter would look like my baby pictures. I was a pretty cute kid complete with big chubby cheeks and hair in long pigtails. I looked like Punky Brewster. My cuteness disappeared around eleven or twelve; I quickly skipped over my junior high albums. I took a little bit longer going through my high school albums, even though there were several pictures of Hunter scattered throughout.

I stopped at one page in particular. It was the very first concert I went to with my friends without adult supervision. The Millennium tour. I laughed at the handmade BSB shirts and the bright neon signs. I was holding a “Batty for Brian” sign. Our faces were painted a light blue and white swirl. I remembered clearly that we had nosebleed seats and we spent the extra money on the cheaply made white binoculars that said Backstreet Boys on the side.

“Oh geesh. I remember how worried I was about you that night,” mom said from over my shoulder. I looked up and smiled. “You girls taking off alone for that concert…I don’t know what made me say yes. But, you looked like you had the time of your life.”

“I did,” I said, touching the picture. I had long ago lost contact with all of the girls.

“Wouldn’t they die to know where you are now?” mom teased. I laughed.

“Just don’t ever show Nick this picture,” I said. “He’d never shut up.”

I closed the books and put them chronologically on the book shelf. Using a hard backed chair for leverage, I stood up and dusted off my jeans.

“What next?”

Mom delegated me to the boring jobs for the next few hours. You know those types of jobs, the ones that didn’t require a lot of brain power, stooping, or lifting. I had just finished making her bed, when the doorbell rang.

“I ordered pizza,” she said, jogging towards the front door.

I got out some paper plates, napkins and plastic cups as mom handed over some money. She walked back into the kitchen; I could smell the green peppers and pepperoni emanating from the box.

Mom didn’t have TV or Internet hooked up yet. We took our plates out to the living room, propped our feet on the coffee table and had just settled into the pizza when my phone rang. I wiped my greasy fingers on a napkin and took out my IPhone. It was Nick.

“Hey you,” I said. “Where are you?”

“Los Angeles,” Nick said. “I’m going on Leno tonight.”

“Awesome,” I said. “I’ll try to stay awake.”

Nick laughed. “Your mom get in okay?”

“Yup. We’ve spent the day unpacking.”

“You feeling okay?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine, Nick.”

“You didn’t overdo it, right?”

“No, mom gave me the most boring jobs in the history of the world.”

My mom made a face; I stuck out my tongue.

“I don’t have your schedule with me. When do you start performing?” I asked.

“I’ve got two weeks of interviews and radio spots and then I’ll do a two week stint with the House of Blues. That’ll take me up to March 1.”

“Be safe, okay?” I said.

“No problem. Have a good night, honey. I love you.”

“I love you too, Nick,” I said. I hung up with a sigh and took another bite of pizza. I saw mom smiling at me.

“What?”

“I like that he calls and checks in,” mom said. I laughed.

“He’s just good like that.”

--------------------------------

I left mom’s house around eight o’clock. The dogs ran around in crazy circles. Not wanting to take two separate trips down the beach, I clipped them all together and hurried out across the sand.

Everything was fine until we were almost to the door. I felt a sharp pain not unlike the ones I had experienced at Thanksgiving.

“Oh no, no, no,” I said softly. I opened the glass door and let the dogs run inside. Trying to remember my “controlled” breathing, I locked up and made my way to the couch.

The pains weren’t often, but when they came I wanted to lose my mind. To make matters worse, the pepperoni had given me a horrible case of acid reflux. I downed some Tums, turned on the TV for company, and prayed that I was just suffering from more Braxton Hicks contractions. The dogs scattered around nearby, their eyes trained on me.

I had a feeling that even with the boring jobs I had done that day that I had probably overdone it. As the news ended and Leno started, I focused on the TV. I suffered through all of Leno’s insufferable jokes and an interview with Sarah Jessica Parker before Nick finally took the stage. It was just him, a guitar, and low lighting. When the TV zoomed in for a close-up I stared right into his eyes. I willed myself to relax. Soft strains of All My Heart came from the surround sound.

“It’s daddy, sweetie,” I said. “Just go to sleep so mommy doesn’t want to scream.”

The pain seemed to lessen as Nick finished his song and headed up to the stage.

“It’s been awhile, Nick,” Leno said. “How are things?”

“Things are great,” Nick said.

“And the new record?”

“Restless Soul comes out next Tuesday, February 8,” Nick said. “It’s got a little bit of everything; ballads like All My Heart and beats like The Great Divide.”

“And your tour?”

“I’m doing a small two week tour through House of Blues.”

His tour schedule appeared on screen. Orlando was first followed by Atlantic City, Boston, Boston, Cleveland, Chicago, Dallas, Las Vegas, San Diego, and Sunset Strip.”

“You going to sleep anytime there, Nick?” Leno asked with a barking laugh.

“It’ll be hectic but I can’t wait to bring the party with me,” Nick replied with a relaxed grin.

“And I’m sure all the ladies can’t either. So, how are things in your personal life? You’re engaged?”

Nick nodded.

“Yup. I’m found my soul mate in Olivia. Seriously, we are so much alike it’s not funny. We’re getting married this summer, but first we’re expecting a baby in March. That’s another reason I’m packing in the dates in February.”

“Well, congratulations. You’re looking great.”

"Thanks, Jay."

The camera zoomed in on Leno.

“Nick Carter’s 2nd solo studio album, Restless Soul hits stores February 8. Good night!”

As the closing music played, the shot panned back out to show Nick sitting on the couch. He put his fingers to his lips and I could read his mouth as clearly as if he shouted.

“Love you, Livvy!”

I smiled; I hadn’t felt a contraction the entire time I was watching Leno. Not wanting to take any chances by climbing the stairs, I covered up with a throw blanket and closed my eyes.

I prayed I felt better the next morning. I had a wedding to plan, a nursery to complete, and I was devising another plan that involved one gorgeous blonde Backstreet Boy.

Bed rest was not part of that plan.