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Chapter Thirty Nine

"I want a twee house, and a swing set, and a camel!"

"A camel?"

"YEAH!"

Nick hadn't listened very well to my housing request. Any other time, I would have been very irked. But the truth was, Nick had done good.

Really good.

The house was a small three bedroom but it had a bath and a half and a little backyard that must have seemed like our very own park to Jake. After all, he had lived his entire life in our apartment. He squatted down, plucking at the grass in delight.

"Can you take your box of cars in?" I asked. Jake looked up and grinned.

"Yeah!"

He followed me back to the moving truck. He waited impatiently until I handed him down his suitcase full of Hot Wheels.

Then he took off towards the house.

I rubbed my back. I had only done two trips to the house and I was exhausted. I stared at the rest of the furniture bleakly.

"GIMME MORE!"

Jake's boundless energy was going to come in handy. That was for sure. I handed him another armful of light things and took a heavy box of dishes. I grunted as I put them down.

After my sixth trip into the house, I noticed a gorgeous sports car slide up to the house. The moment the window began to roll down, Jake let out a squeal.

"It'sssss daaaddddy!"

Nick laughed. With the same boundless energy as Jake, he swung himself out of the car and scooped Jake up. Jake's hair looked like it had been a victim of static shock as Nick swung him around.

"Do you know how happy I am that you're here?" Nick said. "I've missed you!"

"I missed you!" Jake giggled.

Nick's eyes flickered over to me. "Hey Shay."

I hadn't seen him for over a month. I knew I was looking sloppier than normal. I swatted at my hair. "Hey."

"Want some help?"

The feminist in me was screaming - 'I don't need a man!'

My aching back was screaming - 'Take the offer!"

"Sure," I said. "Thanks."

Nick tucked Jake under his arm and came running over. His laugh filled the space between us. "Let's help mommy!"

Jake clapped. "MOMMY!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Shay looked horrible. She looked like a woman that had spent the last few weeks with her head stuck in a vat of hot fudge. Her face was red and she kept rubbing her back.

Jake's mommy was falling apart.

I was smart enough not to say anything while we were moving. Guy 101: Do not mention a girl's weight when she's holding heavy objects.

Once everything was inside and we were splitting open boxes, I took a chance. I just happened to unload the box with Shay's scale. I cleared my throat. She looked at me. Jake was off in his room, lining up his cars on the built-in bookshelves.

"What?" she finally said.

"How about a weigh-in for old times sake?" I asked.

Shay put her hands on her hips. "You only did one weigh-in before you got kicked off," she reminded me.

"True. That's why you should humor me."

"Nick, I don't have time for this right now. I--"

"C'mon. I'm helping you. It will move fast. I'm a professional mover." I slipped off my shoes. "Let's do this."

Just to prove I was a team player, I stepped on the scale first.

I weighed a 167 pounds during my People photo shoot. Admittedly, that six pack was gone. I stared down at the display.

One seventy five. Not bad.

"Alright, your turn."

Shay blanched. She slid off her tennis shoes. "I don't think I've calibrated that scale."

"It's accurate."

Shay gave me a pointed look. "Nick, you can just call me fat. It's okay."

"I wouldn't do that," I said quickly. I immediately realized my mistake.

"Again," I amended.

"I'm a emotional eater," she continued. She came over and stood by the scale.

"Kev's not worth this," I said. I hated even saying his name. I so had unsolved business with that man.

Shay groaned. With her eyes squeezed shut, she stepped on the scale. I looked down and bit the inside of my lip.

Two hundred three pounds.

Shay looked down and screamed. She stumbled back and kicked the scale.

"Go," she commanded.

"What?"

"Go. I can handle the rest."

"Shay..."

"Shay, stop," I said. She folded her arms across her chest.

"You know, you moving out here is good for more than one reason. Sure, I get to see Jake more often, but I can also help you."

"Help me? Help me?"

I smiled. "Yeah. We can work out together. Like old times."

"Nick, it's not like old times. You're in shape and I'm--"

"You're a turtle ready to become a swan," I said.

"A turtle?!"

Crap.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Nick Carter had just called me a turtle. Turtles were slow, lazy, and when they flipped over, they couldn't right themselves.

"I didn't mean a turtle. I meant--"

"Mommy, look it!"

Jake was standing in the hall wearing his underwear on his head. He jumped up and down.

"I like this place!"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Jake what are you doing with your underwear?"

"My heads cold! I can't find my hat!"

Nick started to laugh. "Do you know what's weird? I've actually done that before too."

I looked at Nick and smiled. Then I remembered he had just called me a turtle.

"Shay," he said gently. "I'm not trying to be mean. I just want you to realize that you're stronger than you think. Besides, I want you healthy for Jake. He needs you around forever."

"And you think losing weight's going to help me be strong?" I asked. "Because I don't think so. Anyhow, high blood pressure aside, I'm healthy. I'm not going anywhere."

Nick held up his pointer finger. "Give me one month. If I'm full of shit, you never have to see the inside of a gym again."

"One month?" I asked.

Nick nodded. "One month."

I wasn't stupid. I knew Nick had to put one hell of a down payment on the house to get the payments the same as my apartment. I rubbed my elbow, feeling suddenly self-conscious of the zit that was threatening to burst out on my nose.

I at least owed him one month. I could humor him that long. I nodded.

"One month."