Nick
"I have the best fans."
"Seeing that, I'm not so sure."
"You know you like it. It's long and fuzzy. Just the way you--"
"What the hell do you have on your head?"
I turned just in time to see Andrew looking at me, half in awe, half in horror.
"A fan just gave this to me," I beamed.
"Was she drunk?" Andrew asked. Lauren smothered a laugh behind her hand.
"Y'know, you guys are jerks."
I whipped out a perfect pout as I swung myself into this horrid orange chair that looked (and smelled) like it was from the 70's. The dressing room left a lot to be desired in terms of design, but I couldn't deny it was comfortable. The chair kinda reminded me of the couch at Heather's mom and dad's house.
Heather. Hmm...
"I just don't think gray's your color," Lauren said.
The flash went off right when I turned to glare at her. She burst out laughing.
"It's Babar on crack!" she announced. Andrew snorted as he handed me my IPad.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asked. I gave a nod as I took it.
"Thanks."
Andrew gave the trunk of my fuzzy, gray elephant hat a flick as he walked off. Lauren crouched beside me, her eyes hidden behind large, dark J-lo-esque sunglasses.
"How's the headache?"
"Better. You shouldn't have let me drink so much," she chastised.
"You were unstoppable," I replied as I powered the IPad on. Lauren clicked her tongue, but she didn't disagree.
The night before, she had left every single man in the bar speechless. As it turns out, Lauren has a penchant for German beer. She was friggin born to down the cold lager...and dance on a couple tables...and turn her navel into my own personal drinking well.
And fall clumsily into my arms. And--
Grace has 16 jellybeans in her pocket. She has 8 red ones, 4 green ones, and 4 blue ones. What is the minimum number of jellybeans she must take out of her pocket to ensure that she has one of each color?
The voice pulled me out of my drunken girlie reverie. White numbers shone against a black background and the mechanical voice sounded like Rosie from the Jetsons. I pursed my lips. I tugged on my trunk. I slid down in the chair. I began to wonder how many jellybeans I could fit in my mouth at one time.
This was how I studied. But why was I studying?
It all started with a promise. Two years into dating Heather, it had become increasingly clear to me that I might be a little low on the 'book smarts' meter. One night (when I was still getting some), we were laying in bed and I mentioned that I had never gotten my GED. Heath had wiggled up on me with those cute, short little legs of hers and made me promise that I'd take the test. With her in that position, I wasn't able to say anything but 'yes.'
And I was kinda keeping my promise. I might have been cheating on her, but at least I was studying.
The funny thing about practice tests is that they always sock you with the really hard questions first. I had forgotten this until I started working my way through the Pre-Algebra section. I fumbled my way through the questions, cussing out the robotic voice, and listening to the soft sound of Lauren's rhythmic breathing as she slept propped against the chair. I was finally hitting some of the easier questions when I heard a click. I looked up just as Andrew began to laugh.
"What the hell, dude?" I asked. Andrew pointed at the screen.
"Six-times-eight? Really?"
I yanked the trunk again, stretching out the wire so that the thing looked really phallic. I made a big show of intently studying the screen and quickly stroking the elephant shaft.
"Six...times... eight..." I said slowly. My hand slid up and down, up and down. I broke into a grin.
"Gotta be sixty nine, bro," I declared. "Right?"
"Shut the fuck up," Andrew laughed. Then he paused. "You're not serious, are you?"
"About the equation or about the pleasure of the answer?"
Andrew mouthed something I couldn't decipher as I turned the IPad off and stood up. Who could concentrate? For some reason, my question caused us to both look down at Lauren. I quietly took off the elephant hat and put it on her head. She smiled in her sleep as I stroked her cheek.
"So about Heather..." Andrew teased. I stopped and stood up.
"What?"
"That look."
"What look?"
Andrew stepped back and tucked his phone back in his pocket smugly.
"You've got it bad."
"What?"
"I don't think I have to tell you, man."
"This?" I asked, pointing at Lauren. "Dude, I just have to go it out of my system. Then I'll be good to go back to Heather."
"Seriously?"
I sighed. "I have to."
"Why? God Nick, you're acting like--"
"You don't understand," I said. "I know in my gut Heather didn't buy the story about me and Lauren crashing through the airplane. I can't just dump her."
"Excuse me? That would be the right thing to do."
I shook my head furiously.
"No, dude. You have no idea. You've never met her brother..."
Heather
Day two and I was spoiled. More that spoiled. I was in heaven. My belly was full of biscuits and gravy, I had been totally productive on the revamp of my story, and most importantly...
I felt like I was back where I belonged.
My love for Nick had caused me to do a lot of irrational things in the past three years. Like elevator sex. And almost getting breast implants.
And believing stupid stories about turbulence on an airplane.
Now that I was home, I realized that California might have done well for my complexion, but that was about it. There was nothing better than waking up and smelling the sweet dew on the Kentucky blueglass that blanketed the front and back yards. There was nothing like getting spoiled by mama and getting a giant bear hug from my daddy.
And living within two blocks of Chris wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
A year and a half ago, Chris and his wife Sandra had snagged a house by mom and dad. I remember razzing him on the phone for a half hour straight when he had told me his plan. Chris was the one who had wanted to live in New York City and vacation in Japan. I had always been the one who wanted to stay home and be the little country housewife.
Somehow, our roles had reversed. Chris and Sandra settled down for a life of country living and had a little girl. I had hooked up with Nick Carter and moved to California - all within three weeks.
Yet another irrational move caused by the hot blonde.
I tried to push Nick out of my head as I finished up the breakfast dishes. I was itching to get back to work. Having Brian as my inspiration had given me a whole bunch of ideas that I couldn't wait to play with. I had so many stories stored up of him coming to my rescue. It was amazing that we had packed so much history into our lives, especially since he hadn't resided in Kentucky for nearly half his life now.
"I smell biscuits and gravy. Ma, you got any left?"
Chris' voice was as loud as always. I had never seen my brother make a quiet entrance. I turned away from the sudsy water, wiping my hands on a towel just as mom breezed back into the kitchen.
"Doesn't that wife of yours feed yo---aww, hello pun'kin. Look at that pretty outfit. You're just the apple of gammy's eye aren't you? Well, aren't you?"
Where babies were concerned, mom had lightning quick reflexes. Tessa was out of Chris's arms and into mom's in a flash. I smiled. My little niece looked so much like my brother it wasn't funny, right down to her light brown hair and big blue eyes. She babbled loudly at mom, who proceeded to talk to her in that high, squeaky voice reserved for the smallest of kids.
"Hey midget, hook your brother up with some biscuits and gravy."
Chris swung himself into a chair, grabbed an unused fork and banged it against the table. I put my hand on my hip.
"If I was Sandra, I would kick your--"
"I don't treat Sandra like this. I reserve this special treatment for my favorite sibling."
I scowled. Even so, I grabbed the leftovers I had just stuck in the refrigerator and placed them in the microwave. "Only sibling."
Chris smiled, but the smile was short lived. "Speaking of kicking someone. How about we kick that sorry excuse for a boyfriend to the curb?"
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. There was a grease stain directly over the stove. I couldn't remember a time when it wasn't there. "Chris, please."
"Nick?" mom interrupted. "Is that why you're here? Something's going on with Nick?"
"You didn't tell her?" Chris asked.
I tossed down the kitchen towel. My hands smelled like Palmolive, but the rise in my throat was all breakfast. Mom was giving me one of her looks and I felt the sudden need to find a reason to leave. Tessa bursting into tears was the perfect out. I spied her stroller parked right outside the screen door.
"Gee, I'd love to talk about it right now, but it looks like Tessa might like a stroll around the block." Mom let me take the bawling babe from her arms. "You enjoy some quiet time with your big-mouthed son and I'll be right back."
I flashed them both a smile - a smile that had won me 'Miss Congeniality' at the Cherry Time Pageant Parade two years running. Mom walked over to the beeping microwave, shaking a warning finger my way.
"You better come back."
"Or I'll getcha for kidnapping," Chris added. "Oooh, man, what brand of sausage is that? Smells delicious."
While Chris and mom discussed the new brand of sausage at the grocer's, I headed outside. Tessa wiggled like mad as I strapped her into the stroller. Her screams pierced my ears and the two little teeth she had coming in on the bottom of her mouth almost clamped onto my finger. It wasn't until I started walking at a good clip that she settled down.
"See, this is good," I said, more for my benefit than for hers. "You get time away from daddy and I get time away from the Spanish Inquisition."
Somehow, living in a place all of your life, gives you direction without even consciously planning it. My stride took us towards the park. Summer robins flew overhead, chirping happily in the early morning. A few super moms already had their kids climbing over the playground equipment. I slowed my pace as I neared a bench. I lined the stroller up next to it and scooped Tessa out. Her tears were completely gone. She stuffed her fist in her mouth and gave me a drool-y smile.
"I'm sorry I've been such a bad aunt," I cooed. "I haven't seen you for months."
I pressed a kiss on her cheek and sat down on the bench. The scent of baby powder was like crack; as I bounced her lightly, I inhaled greedily. After awhile, she took her fist out of her mouth and made grunting, babbling motions, her wet finger pointing at anything and everything.
"Grass," I said. Or, "birdie." I was extolling the wonders of the monkey bars across the way when the slight movement of the stroller almost gave me a heart attack. I looked up, shielding my eyes from the direct line of the sun. Tessa, realizing she had lost my attention, looked up and laughed. But what I saw wasn't a laughing matter. The man standing in front of us had on old denim jeans, his old high school jersey, and ginormous Nikes. A basketball was tucked under his arm.
It was a blast from the past. He didn't say anything for a minute and the look on his face sent a weird feeling directly into my stomach. Tessa broke the ice by reaching towards the basketball. Brian's blue eyes danced.
"Good mornin'," he drawled. "I didn't know Babies-R-Us was having a sale."
Brian
Heather was still staring up at me in surprise as I dropped the basketball to the ground, holding it stationary with one foot, and scooped the baby up from her arms. I stared into the baby’s face. “Good Lord child,” I laughed, “There ain’t no denying who your daddy is. You gotta be Tessa.” I grinned. I hadn’t been home since Tessa had been born. “Lordy Lord does she ever look identical to Chris!”
Heather laughed lightly, shielding the sun from her eyes with one hand. “Yeah, she sure does,” she said, squinting up at me. She watched as I blew kissy noises at Tessa’s face.
The truth? I miss having babies and little kids around. I had the best time with Baylee when he was an infant, I absolutely adored chasing him around in his terrible T’s (‘cos let’s face it, the terribles do not end with two). Spaghetti O’s and tuna fish and Campbells Chicken soup with PBJ were my favorite two lunches now. I was just cut out to have kids around me. But the problem was Leighanne… well, she didn’t really like the baby-stages.
Our fighting had really started there.
If I had a nickel for every time Leighanne got pissed off because I wasn’t home to change a diaper due to tour I’d be a rich--- well, I’d be a richer man, anyways. She’d accused me of never helping out, of not caring, of avoiding responsibility . And with that said, she’d announced that she didn’t want to have anymore kids. Ever. She’d then gone and, without consulting with me first, had the operation.
At first I’d thought it was great – what guy wouldn’t? Until Baylee had gotten bigger and started getting more independent and not needing me and not being – you know – a child any longer. Somewhere around eight years old, they start thinking they’re grown up, stop seeing Dad as superman, and instead realize Dad’s just a goofy old guy.
I missed being superman.
The first argument broke out over the suggestion to adopt. “I told you seven years ago Brian,” Leighanne had hissed, “You don’t have to do the work that’s involved, of course you want more kids. You’ve always got the fun part. I’m always the bad guy.”
But I wanted them so bad.
When I’d confessed these feelings to Nick he’d stared at me, one eyebrow raised, and muttered, “What are you? A friggin woman? You don’t have a utility, Brian.”
“A utility?”
“Yeah, yanno, that thingy the babies like hatch in?”
I’d stared at him for a long moment. “A uterus?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Back in the real world, I handed Tessa back to Heather before I tried to stuff her in my pocket and run away with her. Chris wouldn’t notice, right? Ha. “So what are you two gorgeous ladies up to today?” I asked.
Heather smiled into Tessa’s eyes, “We’re just killing time while mom forgets about the game of Twenty Questions we were about to play.”
“Twenty Questions?” I asked.
Heather nodded, “Yes, your jackass of a best friend – alternatively known as my brother – informed my mother I’m here because of Nick.”
“Oh good Lord.”
“Yeee-ah,” she drawled out. “How exactly do I explain to my mom that Nick fell through an airplane wall while joining the Mile High Club?”
I felt a twist in my stomach. “I dunno,” I said.
Heather sighed. “I wish he took this relationship as seriously as I do,” she said quietly. She looked up at me. “I love him with all my heart Brian,” she explained, “I wish he’d understand that I’m not fooling around with him, that I’m not gonna leave him over silly things, that I really think that he’s - The One.”
“To hold you?” I asked, smirking, “And make sure that you’ll be alrii—ii-iiiight?”
Heather raised an eyebrow.
I grinned.
“You’re such a corn cob,” she laughed.
I lifted my Wildcats hat up from my head and tilted it respectfully. “Corn cob, at yer service.”
“So where you headed with that ball anyways?” she asked, eyeing me.
“We have a hot date, me and the ball,” I answered, “We’re gonna make out behind the Monkey Bars.” I kicked the ball up into my arms and pretended to be kissing it. Heather laughed and kicked at me and I jumped out of the way and stuck my tongue out at her. “Gonna hafta kick faster than that, kiddo.”
“Bring the game to my place and I’ll show you know it’s played,” she said in a challenging voice.
“Thems is fightin’ words, kiddo,” I laughed, “I’d hate to burst your sweet lil bubble…”
“Bring it, shawty,” she teased.
“Ooohh, you’re going down, Johnson.” I growled.
