[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Chapter Fifty Seven

I didn’t get to fully enjoy Nick’s beachside home, but I got a really nice taste. After we returned from the doctor’s office, he introduced me to his pups and I toured the house. His master bedroom was even more opulent then the one in LA. Two large walk-in closets that smelled just like him lined one side of the room; the other side of the room had a door that led into a private bath.

“And check this out,” he said. He walked down the hall and threw open a door.

At the moment it was just a large empty room. The walls were painted white; a wide window beheld the beautiful blues of the ocean.

“I thought this might make a nice nursery,” Nick said. He walked into the middle of the room, opening up his arms.

I walked into the room. The soft grey carpet tickled the bottoms of my feet. I could almost picture a white crib and soft pastel curtains framing the window.

Then I heard Dr. Tresher’s voice: “thus treating an Rh positive baby like an intruder in her body.” I shivered.

“What do you think?” Nick asked again. I looked over at him. I’m not gonna cry, I’m not gonna cry…

I burst into tears.

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

After I calmed down and we momentarily shelved the thought of planning the baby’s room, we curled up and watched a movie. We had another early morning planned, and yet another flight.

“Do you have your equipment?” Nick asked as we double checked our carry-on bags. We were waiting for the all clear to board. I unzipped my large black duffel. My cameras were safely cushioned.

“Check,” I said.

An announcement came over the intercom. We were ready to roll. Nick scooped up all three of our carry-ons. After handing our tickets to an attendant, we boarded the plane.

“Oh, do you have your passport?” Nick said. I dug through my purse. For a moment I panicked; then my fingers curled around the small little book.

“Yes,” I said.

“I wouldn’t want to have to smuggle you over the border,” Nick teased.

I smiled. As we buckled up, I took a breath. I hadn’t told Nick, but my stomach was having another rebellious day. I prayed it would hold out until we were at least in the sky.

“You okay?” Nick said as we buckled in. I nodded.

I didn’t make it to altitude. Before we got clearance, I was puking my guts out in the emergency barf bags. Needless to say I didn’t make friends with anybody around us.

“It’s okay,” Nick said, keeping my hair out of my face. I shuddered.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Everyone’s just trapped on a plane with a pregnant puking woman for eight hours.” I lurched forward again, my head falling into the bag.

“We have now reached cruising altitude,” the pilot said. He launched into a Barry White croon of the weather conditions and a wish for a comfortable trip. The seat belt light went off. I yanked off my belt and half ran to the bathroom with my barf bag in hand.

Of all the bathrooms I had already puked in, the airplane bathroom was the worst. I washed my face five or six times before I felt clean enough to walk back to my seat. My face was flushed from scrubbing so hard.

“Feel better?” Nick asked as I sank down. I nodded. Weakly I reached into my duffel bag and pulled out my camcorder.

“What are you doing?” Nick asked.

“We’ve started the tour. I want to get your thoughts,” I said.

“You just threw up an entire Egg McMuffin and something purple,” Nick said. “How can you even think about working?”

I smiled. “Distract me.”

I turned on the camera, directing it at him. He rolled his eyes, but as soon as he saw the red light, he smiled charmingly.

“So Nick, are you excited about getting back on tour?” I asked.

“I sure am,” he said. “Shout out to all my peeps.” He made an attempt at his own gang sign.

“Word,” I responded with a laugh. “Tell the fans what’s going on.”

“We’re starting in Washington and then we’re going to head across the border and chill out with some Mounties in good ol’ Canada,” Nick said.

“Do you know what Mounties are?” I asked.

“Dude, I’ve watched Rocky and Bullwinkle. I’ll be like Dudley Do-right. You can be Nell Fenwick.”

I laughed again; it felt good to have the camera back in my hand. “Who’s Snidley Whiplash?”

“Well, if Kev was on tour, I’d say him because he’s always trying to whip me into shape.” Nick made a motion as if cracking a whip. “Now whip it. Into shape. Whip it good,” he sang out. Then he got serious. “But since Kev’s not going on tour, I’m going to say Howie. He’s got the black hair going on. Ooh maybe when he’s sleeping I’ll draw one of those curly mustaches. Don’t post this until I do.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I said.

He pressed his eye up to my lens. A stewardess was coming around with drinks.

“Okay homies, I think it’s time to cut it. Nick needs himself some V8 juice. Word.”

I turned off my camera, Nick grinned.

“Was that a good distraction?”

“Very,” I said. The stewardess asked us for drink requests. I asked for a 7-Up; Nick asked for his V8. As I poured my drink over some ice, I looked over at Nick. His eye was up to the can.

I paused in my pouring. “What are you doing?” I asked. Nick seemed in awe.

“It’s like half frozen,” he said, turning the can slowly. “It’s like a V8 slushy.”

The thought of a V8 slushy did me in. Handing him my drink and cup, I raced back to the bathroom.

So much for that distraction.

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

Six long hours later, we finally landed in Washington. Nick slung all of our carry-on bags over his shoulder. While he went to make sure our luggage arrived safely, I checked on Bitsy. My heart leapt when the attendant brought her cage out. Luckily, she hadn’t been waiting long, but her tranquilizer was wearing off; she whined when she saw me.

I felt two little tugs on my jean leg.

“Is that a puppy? Can I see?”

I turned around, cage in hand. Baylee was looking up at me, his eyes full of curiosity.

I kneeled down, resting the cage on my knee. Baylee stuck his hand through the bars, a giggle escaping as Bitsy licked at his tongue.

“She’s cute! Mom says our puppies haven’t come yet.”

I smiled. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

“Are you going to marry uncle Nick?”

The question was so random; my eyes widened in surprise. “What makes you ask that Baylee?”

Baylee grinned. “Nick said---“

“Baylee!”

Both of us looked up to see Leighanne jogging up.

“Don’t run off like that,” she said. Baylee stuck his bottom lip out.

“I was with O-liv-ia!”

Leighanne looked over at me. She smiled softly. I took it as a small sign of progress; I returned the gesture.

“Is that the puppy Nick bought you?” she asked. She stuck her fingers through the bars; Bitsy continued her kisses.

“Yeah, Baylee was just saying your pups haven’t come yet,” I explained. I stood up hoisting the cage into a more comfortable holding position.

“They’ll be here,” she said. “We just have to be patient,” she reminded Baylee. He smiled, leaning back on her leg.

“Nick was just filling us in on what you found out,” she continued. “I guess we’ll know in a month?” I knew she was talking about the CVS test.

I nodded. She looked relieved.

“As soon as we know, we’ll call you guys,” I said. She exhaled deeply.

“Well, until then shall we just try to have a good trip?”

I smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Mom! There they are!”

I headed back to Nick as Leighanne and Baylee grabbed their two little cages.

“We ready?” Nick said. He slid his fingers in the cage. Bitsy nuzzled him with her nose.

I thought about what Baylee said; I couldn’t help but wonder what Nick told him.

“Liv, you okay?”

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Hm?”

“You ready? I’ve got all of our bags on the bus. It should be about three hours before we get to Wenatachee. When we get there, the guys are treating the gals to dinner.”

I laughed. “McDonald’s?”

“Only if Howie insists on picking.”

As we headed to the bus, I grinned for the first time in awhile; I felt like we had come full circle.

The memory of Nick jumping into the ball pit at McDonald’s on my very first concert day was permanently etched in my mind. It was almost scary to think of him holding a brand new little person in seven months time.

Seven months.