Sharon Fremont started the second that Abby walked into the dining room. The initial euphoria had passed. There was planning to be done… Sharon had lists spread around her on the table. Abby told her mother that it would all depend on Nick’s schedule. The Boys were going to be promoting a new album and they couldn’t just drop everything so Nick could come to an engagement party. Sharon didn’t see why not.
The week before Christmas would be nice, continued Abby’s mother. We’ll see what days he’s available. Now…cocktail party or sit-down dinner? Here or at the club?
Abby realized that her mother already had the whole event planned…had probably had it planned since the day she’d brought Abby home from the hospital. She was only offering Abby token input and would talk her out of anything that didn’t agree with Sharon’s plans. I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could go low-key on this, said Abby. Her mother looked at her over her reading glasses and went back to her lists. I didn’t think so, said Abby. Chicago has been waiting too long for Abigail Fremont to find a man to marry.
And Abigail Fremont had found a man. After she and Nick had made love in the early hours, she had laid awake, listening to Nick’s even breathing and searching her soul. And she came to the conclusion that he was right…that they were good for each other. She thought past the intense emotion of the previous evening and remembered other things…their email conversations, ‘visiting’ Chicago together on the IM, building a snowman. And she asked herself where she thought she would ever find another man who would build a snowman with her. What was she waiting for? True love? It hadn’t put in an appearance so far. She’d thought she was getting to that with Philip and what did she get instead? A couple of choruses of the Pain Song.
Nick was her friend. Maybe the best friend she’d ever had. Was she going to give that up to wait in vain for someone to win her heart? No, she decided, no she wasn’t. She was going to marry Nick and live in Chicago and support him and his career in wherever he happened to be.
“Of course, you have to invite the Carters to the engagement party,” Abby sighed. Why was her mother always such a snob?
“No, you don’t,” said Nick.
The Fremont women looked up. The older one smiled and said, Good morning. The younger one blushed and smiled and said, Good morning. Nick walked over to where Abby was sitting. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.
“Don’t invite my parents to anything but the wedding, and I’ll have to think hard about that one too.”
“Oh, Nick, don’t be silly,” said Abby.
Nick shook his head. “The state they are in right now, I couldn’t trust them to be in the same room together.” He looked over at Sharon. “They might make a scene.”
Sharon shuddered. Oh, dear.
Abby offered Nick coffee and breakfast. Sharon moved her papers off the table and started asking questions. When was he going to tell the Boys? His parents? The world? And what about a photo? They needed a photo of them together…for the local announcement.
“For God’s sake, Sharon, let the boy eat,” said John, coming into the room. “Good morning, Nick. Abigail.”
“Morning, Daddy.”
“Sir.”
“Why don’t you run up and get your computer camera, Honey?” asked John. “We can take some pictures of you before you leave for the airport.”
“Do we have to?” asked Abigail, laughing. “Nick’s not very photogenic, you know.” She stood up and left the room.
“Nick,” said John in a serious tone, after Abby was out of earshot. “There’s something I need to say.”
Here it comes, thought Nick. The ‘don’t hurt my baby’ speech.
“Don’t worry, Sir…Mrs. Fremont…I will never hurt your daughter.”
John opened his mouth to protest that that wasn’t what he was going to say, but Nick didn’t give him a chance. “I know our worlds are different, and I know there’ll be some tough moments, but we can do this. Together, we can do this.”
John heard Abby’s footsteps in the hall. “Yes, Nick,” he said, “I’m sure that you can. Welcome to the family, Son.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nick sat on the plane and asked himself what the hell he thought he was doing. It had all seemed so workable in the confines of the Fremont home. And it seemed utterly insane out here in the real world. Married. Nick Carter. To a Chicago socialite with a college degree. The media would have a field day with that. The media, hell! The Boys will have a field day.
He would tell them tomorrow. He’d call his parents today when he got home and he’d tell the Boys tomorrow. They could decide together how to break it to the teenyboppers. He leaned back in his seat and stretched out his long legs. He pulled his cap down over his eyes and closed them, pretending to be asleep. For the rest of the flight he played with phrases in his head, trying to come up with ways of talking about getting married without using the word ‘love’.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“You’re what?!”
“Getting married, Mom.”
“Are you crazy? Who is this girl? What does she want from you?”
Nick sighed. He knew it would be like this. He had even considered not telling her. His dad had taken the news well, but hadn’t managed to avoid the odd bitter comment, like how he guessed Nick knew what he was doing, these things always looked good in the beginning, you just never knew how they were going to end.
Nick phoned his dad first and then asked him if he would mind if Nick let his mother think he’d called her first. Bob Carter laughed and said, yeah, that’d be okay. Nick decided that he’d rather tell his mother in person. He wasn’t sure why. He just thought he’d have more control of the situation.
He dropped by the house without calling first. Catching her off guard might work in his favor. She was home alone. The kids had all had enough of the family Thanksgiving stuff and were off hanging out with their friends.
Jane didn’t offer him so much as a glass of water, just ushered him into the living room and started in on him. So nice of you to drop by, she said sarcastically, we didn’t think we’d have the pleasure of your company over the holiday.
Nick sighed and looked around the room. It was messy. He wasn’t the tidiest of people, he’d be the first to admit it, but his mother had always kept a clean, tidy house. Now it looked like little effort was being made. There were dust mites in the corners and a stain on the carpet by the coffee table.
“I can’t afford the cleaning service any more,” said his mother, noticing his look. “Ever since you…”
Nick held up his hand. That wasn’t what he was here for. Slowly, haltingly, stammering and blushing way more than he wanted to, he managed to spit out that he had proposed to Abby this weekend and that he was getting married. He tried to reassure his mother that Abby didn’t ‘want’ anything from him, that she liked him for him. And she wasn’t after his money, he said. She had her own.
Jane’s eyes lit up at that and Nick changed the subject. That would be the last thing any of them would need, Jane putting the bite on the Fremonts. What’s her last name? demanded Jane, as if that was an indication of good breeding. Nick was tempted to say Mohamed or Singh or something just to push his mother’s buttons, but he didn’t. He said simply, Fremont.
When’s the wedding?
Nick replied that they hadn’t decided that yet, but that it would be within the year. He wasn’t sure about that himself, but he figured Sharon wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer than that.
What about the tour?
That won’t be a problem. We can work it into the schedule. The Boys might want to come to the wedding after all, he added sarcastically.
He had a bad moment when Jane asked for the Fremonts' address and phone number so that she could contact them to talk about wedding plans. Nick refused politely, saying that it was way too early to start talking about things like that and besides, she was the groom’s mother. She didn’t really have to do anything but show up.
Nick stood up to go. “Mom, can you please not say anything to anyone until I’ve had a chance to tell the guys. I’m not sure how we’re going to make this public yet.”
Jane nodded absently and waved her hand through the air. Yeah, sure.
“Mom, I want you to say it out loud. I want you to promise me you won’t say anything to anyone.”
Jane narrowed her eyes at her son. “What’s the matter, don’t you trust me?”
“No, Mom, I don’t,” said Nick bluntly. “Once bitten, twice burned…or whatever they say. This is important, Mom. Don’t screw this up. Or else…”
“Are you threatening me, Nick?” His mother was outraged.
Nick stared at his mother for a moment. Then he dropped his eyes and sighed. “This is really important to me, Mom.”
His mother put her hand on his arm. “Are you sure, Nicky? Are you sure this is what you want?”
Nick nodded but didn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah, Mom. I’m sure,” he said to the floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~He screwed it up completely when he told the guys. He’d planned what he wanted to say, but in his head the conversation was always one-on-one. It was way harder when four of them were tossing questions at him.
They were meeting in L.A. to map out the publicity for the album release and the tour. The album was being released the next day, too late for the Thanksgiving weekend rush, but in time for Christmas. The first single was climbing the charts, the video had been released and the fans were busy pumping it up on TRL. They all had their fingers crossed. They weren’t expecting to reach the heights of Millennium, or even Black and Blue, but they hoped that the record would be a success. And each of them in his own heart, prayed more for critical approval than monetary sales. They didn’t need the money. They needed the respect.
Everyone was nervous and on edge. There were lots of details being thrown around. It was hard for Nick to find an opening to slip the information in. He’d planned on telling them right away, when everyone was doing the ‘How was your Thanksgiving?’ thing. He was hoping one of them would say, ‘So, did anyone do anything special?’ But no one did. They didn’t even really get to talk about it. Brian asked and Howie was halfway through his answer when Jay Stiles came into the room and said, let’s get to work.
They talked about television appearances and radio interviews, mapping out the next few weeks. Nick was about to say that he’d need a couple of days off before Christmas to attend his engagement party, when Brian stepped in. “I don’t want to do anything after December 20,” he said. “I want to be home for the holidays.”
No problem, said Jay and he drew a line through that week on the calendar. He started talking about New Year’s Eve…did they want to do something public then?
General Stiles marched his troops through the next few months, talking about tour dates and venues. It was all in the beginning stages, he said. They weren’t planning a big tour until they got some initial reaction to the album.
“This looks workable,” said Kevin, finally, speaking for the group. “We’re not going to kill ourselves this time around. Right?” His brothers nodded at him. Right.
“Yeah, and…you know…we want to be…like…flexible,” said Nick, wishing he wasn’t sweating so much. “You know…like if something comes up…or we…you know…had something planned…”
“Ya got something planned, Nicky?” asked AJ.
“Yeah,” said Nick with a grin. “My wedding.”
And all hell broke loose.
