February 2, 2011 Tokyo, Japan

It hadn’t been a good flight. Though, I had a hard time thinking of any flight to Japan I’d taken that I’d actually enjoyed. There was usually a sick child involved, but always someone restless, cranky, and bored. It seemed like a lot of work, getting through that long flight, but the end reward usually outweighed a few hours of embarrassment and annoyance on my part.

It was an all too familiar feeling, getting off a plane in a strange country with a toddler perched on my hip, diaper bags, backpacks, and a purse hanging off all my arms. I never could have imagined that this would have become second nature but I had become a seasoned traveler, there wasn’t much that could throw me for a loop.

The airport was incredibly busy, with business people and tourists bustling around; heading towards security, the food court, and the baggage claim. It was a futurist setting with bright lights and modern architecture and it distracted me momentarily because it seemed like so much had changed since the last time I’d been here. Either that or I had just never really had time to look around in the past.

“Parker, please go grab a cart and bring it over to the baggage claim?” I asked and the boy rolled his eyes behind the shield of his Nintendo DS, reluctantly pressing pause.

“Where are they?” he asked and I pointed in the direction of the carts despite the fact that they were in plain sight, “how will I know which baggage thing it is?” he asked, making it very apparent that he had no interest in helping.

We had come to learn the hard way just how much disinterest a pre-teen could have. It didn’t take long for Parker to go from a loving, affectionate child to a disgruntled young man. He was at a point where he didn’t like very much of anything unless it was a direct benefit to him – twelve years old. Too young to act like a teenager, too old to act like a kid anymore. He was a bit of a ladies’ man, the fact that he was a spitting imagine of ol’ Dad did nothing to keep the girls at bay. He and Nick couldn’t be more different in personality though. They both shared a quick temper but Parker had stopped singing at a young age, and now hid his talents away to avoid being noticed. While Nick was a natural performer, always wanting to be the centre of attention, Parker shied away from it happy to stay on the outside by himself. They were traits that he had clearly inherited from me; I had never much been interested in getting attention.

My point strayed from the luggage carts to a man in a suit standing by one of the larger carousels, “That man was on our flight so that’s probably ours.”

“You want me to go stand with the strange man? Stranger danger, Mom,” Parker teased sarcastically and I rolled my eyes, watching his lanky form retreat from my view. We were anticipating that he was probably ready for a growth spurt because his arms and legs were getting ahead of the rest of his body. He already came up to the middle of Nick’s chest. The paediatrician suspected for years Parker would probably be taller than his father, something about genes skipping a generation, and it seemed to be turning out that way.

While Parker was on the same parallel as me personality wise, the true Nick clone in our family was Zoey. The only thing that kept her from truly becoming her father’s clone was the fact that she had been born a girl. I glanced to my left where she, too, had her face stuck in front of a Nintendo DS screen, her little tongue peeking out from between her lips. One of Nick’s beanies was stuck firmly on her head, the extra fabric making her skull seem a few inches longer. Pin straight blonde hair hung from below the grey knit and onto a Tampa Bay Buccaneers jacket, too puffy for her slight frame but necessary because of the cold. It was normally the coat she wore to visit her Grandparents in Ohio.

I had been pretty convinced when Zoey was a baby that she was going to turn out to look more like me but, of course, it was my luck that those Carter genes seemed to be a bit more dominant than mine. Zoey had inherited ocean blue eyes, perfectly arched eyebrows, a strong nose, and soft jaw; features that people always said made her look like a female version of her father. She was a beautiful girl; I dreaded the day that she dropped the tom boy act and started noticing that there were boys on the playground that wanted her for more than just a football partner. I would be more than happy to keep her ten years old for a little while longer.

“Do you need me to hold anything, Mom?” Zoey asked thoughtfully. She closed up her game system and stuck it in her pocket, looking up at me curiously.

I knew what she wanted and I smiled. Zoey tried very hard to make everyone believe that she was a tough girl that could take on any boy and beat them at their own game, but her biggest weakness was her baby brother.  

Considering how easy it had been to get pregnant with the first two I really didn’t think it would have taken very long to get pregnant again. I had given myself my five year window and figured that it would maybe have taken a year or two before we were welcoming a new addition. The reality was quite the opposite though, and it had been early in the morning on my 30th birthday – October 30, 2009 – that Grant finally decided to grace us with his presence. Nick had been busy with meetings and recording for his solo album and for the joint Backstreet/NKOTB tour but he had ensured that anything he did would happen in Los Angeles so he could be close. He went from missing out on the first two births to being intimately involved. After his insistence we’d used a midwife and had a home birth. He was there with me the whole time, in the thick of it, and ultimately the one who caught the baby, cut the cord, and swaddled him. He was the first person (apart from the midwife) to lay eyes on Grant, the first person to hold him, and count all his fingers and toes. He was covered in blood, and who knows what else but the look on his face was indescribably happy. Nick had already matured a lot since I met him but that night he really grew up. Enough about him though.

Zoey hated everything girly except babies. She was always wanting to hold Grant, push him in his stroller (which Parker was presently pulling off the baggage carousel), and carry him around despite his weight. He was now fifteen months old and over twenty pounds, babbling nonsensical sentences and walking on unsteady legs; not the easiest to carry around anymore.

“Okay,” I relented, balancing all the bags in my arms as I handed Grant over to Zoey’s waiting arms, “If he gets too heavy or if he wants to get down then put him down but hold onto his hand really tight.”

“Got it,” she smiled and her back arched as she adjusted the extra weight.

I let out a sigh of relief to have my arms free for a moment and pretty soon Parker was pushing an overflowing cart full of suitcases in our direction. I was barely able to see the top of his blonde head as he put everything he had into moving the heavy bags.

“Where’s Dad?” he asked, completely out of breath, a slight sheen of sweat visible on his forehead. He was an active boy, in good shape, but it took a lot of suitcases to transport all of us from one side of the world to the other.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice sounding a little more annoyed than I had intended. I had done a quick glance around the arrivals area and didn’t see Nick anywhere. It reminded me of the first time I’d brought Parker to Japan and Nick had forgotten about us. He was a different person now but I could easily see him getting caught up in the excitement of releasing I’m Taking Off, his first solo venture in eight years. I tossed the bags in my arms onto the top of the cart and took over the pushing duties, heading in the direction of the taxi stand in a fog of déjà vous. We had been going through a bit of a rough patch as of late, and I had a sick feeling in my stomach thinking that Nick was reverting back to old habits. Things had gotten tough with Nick throwing himself into his solo record, NKOTBSB, and finishing up the This Is Us tour. It had taken a toll on our relationship and I had been looking forward to this trip to Japan as an opportunity to bandage the wounds, like we’d learned to do during couples counselling.

We were almost out the door when I heard someone start yelling my name. I thought for a quick second that I was imagining things and it was just a similar sounding Japanese word but Zoey let out an excited yell and I looked over to see Nick jogging through the terminal towards us.

Part of us being able to work on our relationship had been working on ourselves both mentally and physically. My efforts could be noticed a little more from the emotional side; I was a stronger person than when we’d first met. I knew how to stand on my own two feet but at the same time knew how to let Nick lead me when I needed to. Nick took the prize for physical changes. Fitness and health had become a huge part of his life and it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He realized that he was going down a bad road and made the changes he needed to before something bad happened to him. Being in better shape had definitely made him more desirable to women but his reincarnation as a mature adult had also included the ability to say no and walk away and he hadn’t strayed since we got back together.

He was dressed in a slim fitting motorcycle jacket with a purple scarf wrapped around his neck, slim cut jeans and a pair of combat boots; an outfit that had practically become the staple of his new physique. A pair of aviator sunglasses covered his eyes and he was wearing a warm black beanie on his head almost identical to Zoey’s, likely in the hopes of not being recognized by the rabid Japanese fans.

“Hey guys!” Nick said with a cheeky grin once he’d caught up with us, “were you leaving without me?”

“I figured you’d forgotten about us,” I said honestly. His smile immediately fell and I felt guilty for being cranky.

“I’ve been here for a while, I didn’t see you anywhere,” he said defensively, putting the smile back on his face for the sake of the kids. He leaned down and scooped Grant out of Zoey’s arms, tossing him up in the air playfully while he giggled happily.

“Say hi to your Dad,” I encouraged Parker and Zoey and while the girl threw herself against her father for a hug Parker merely muttered a hello and looked around anxiously.

“Are we cramping your style?” Nick teased, reaching out to punch the older boy’s shoulder jokingly. Once he had given both Grant and Zoey a quick hug and kiss he turned to me, his eyes apologetic, “I missed you.”

“Did you?” I asked, just wanting to be at the hotel and napping instead of lingering around the airport.

“I did,” he said with a nod and I couldn’t help but believe him.

~*~

The hotel had one of those amazing Jacuzzi tubs so I had taken an extra long bath after Zoey and Grant had gone to bed and Parker was watching television. I was sitting on the king sized bed on the most comfortable down comforter I’d ever touched outside of the one in my own bedroom, putting lotion on my tired skin. As I drew my hands easily over my shin the light from the bedside table made the diamond of my engagement ring shimmer and I paused. I remembered the moment that Nick had moved the ring from my right hand back to the left like it was yesterday.

It had been about a year after we got back together that we’d finally decided it was time to get married. Nick was just wrapping up the Never Gone tour, talking about heading back into the studio but mostly looking forward to a bit of time off. We’d capitalized on the free time and had a very small ceremony on the beach near the condo. It had been simple enough to satisfy him but traditional enough to make me happy – a compromise.

“Parker went to his room to play his DS,” Nick said as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He started pulling off his clothes and I watched him toss them haphazardly into a pile on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” I said as he crossed the room in just his boxer briefs, dropping his watch on his bedside table.

“For what?” he wondered, walking around to the side of the bed I was sitting on. He pulled the bottle of lotion out of my hand and grabbed my ankle, taking over the duty of warding off the dry skin typically brought on by winter.

“I didn’t say congratulations,” I admitted with a sigh as he rested my foot against his flat stomach, “I’m really proud of you. Your album is amazing, the kids love it, I love it, and I can’t wait to see how it sells this week.”

“Thank you,” he said modestly, tossing the bottle onto the bed. He smirked and I recognized the lust in his eyes. He still held onto my ankle with one hand while reaching down with the other to untie the white terry cloth robe that was covering me.

I used to feel uncomfortable under his gaze but now it was something I had just come to expect. Nick never had any issue with people looking at him so he didn’t understand that some people didn’t like being stared at, especially in the nude. I used the opportunity to free my arms from the robe and he dropped my leg, crawling into the bed to settle his hips against mine.

I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, my foot rubbing against the back of his thigh. He was still staring, this time into my eyes and I played with the ends of his hair; fresh from a haircut from whatever photo shoot he’d been at earlier in the day.

He inched closer, his lips brushing mine softly, tugging gently on my bottom lip, “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered with another kiss, “This album, everything that went into it, was all for you guys. I couldn’t have done it without you so I’m glad you’re here to share it with me.”

“We love you,” I told him honestly, sure to include myself in that group. His lips found mine again, his time with more passion than the last. Soon the only sound either of us could hear was our heavy breathing and I was reaching down to push off his boxers when the door suddenly burst open.

“DAD! Parker won’t leave me alone!” Zoey shouted as she burst into the room and Nick scrambled for the discarded robe, pulling as much of it as he could over me, using his body to cover the rest.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping!” he chastised her. He quickly instructed her to get back to her room and told her he would be along to solve their issue shortly.

I laughed as the door closed again and Nick let out a heavy sigh. The moment was lost but it wouldn’t take too much for us to get it back, it certainly wasn’t the first time we’d been interrupted mid-romance and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Duty calls,” Nick said with a roll of his eyes. He stole the robe out from under me, wrapping it around himself as he headed into the main room of the suite.

I chuckled, crawling to the top of the bed to get under the covers just in case we had any more visitors. I could hear Nick yelling at Parker and Zoey to be quiet because Grant was sleeping and I couldn’t help but laugh. Only my husband would use yelling as a way to get the kids to quiet down. He is quite a character, they all are really, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Really, after all we’ve been through, with so many forks in the road along the way, for all of us to be as happy as we are truly means we’re meant to be a family. No one else could possibly put up with us.

For some reason I thought of Max just then and the way she tried to warp her family into something that was more perfect than it could ever be and I was glad I never reconnected with her after we left Florida.

My family was perfectly imperfect, irrational and emotional at times, full of piss and vinegar but we were a happy family; a happy family of jetsetters, flying back and forth across the country and across the world to serve the every whim of a Backstreet Boy.