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Chapter Thirteen – May 25

Nick had been right; two days after smacking into the treadmill my eye was bloodshot and the skin around it was black and blue. I had hibernated in bed yesterday while Nick took care of Brooklyn. He brought me a new ice pack every hour and told me an absurd joke each time.

I decided that this morning I was going to get up and just get on with small wedding details. I needed to work out seating arrangements. Nick was still sleeping. He sounded noisier than usual.

I walked into the nursery and couldn’t help but smile. Brooklyn was awake, studying her mobile with newfound curiosity. When I leaned over the railing, she turned her head to look at me and smiled.

“Hey pretty baby,” I said. I ran my fingernail gently down the underside of her foot; her toes curled in reflex. She began to babble.

“You hungry?”

Her lips pursed up and her whole body wiggled. I took that as a yes. I scooped her up and settled down in the rocker. As she ate I looked down at her profile. I think I might be slightly biased; but I couldn’t help but think I had the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen.

“We’re going to have to introduce you to formula,” I said. “That way grandmommy can feed you while daddy and I are on our honeymoon.”

She looked up at me with wide blue eyes. I felt myself go teary.

“Oh, how are we going to leave you for a whole week?” I whispered.

Brooklyn didn’t seem too concerned; I thought that might change once she actually realized her daddy was MIA.

After she grew bored with her feeding, I changed her and headed down to the kitchen. She was finally tolerating her infant sling, which freed up my hands to work in the kitchen or at the computer. I was nibbling on a rice cake, thinking that probably eating computer paper would be tastier, when Nick walked into the kitchen. I took one look at him and knew something was wrong.

His hair was disheveled like always, but he had dark circles under his eyes. Even that wasn’t unusual, but when he began to speak I knew right away that he was sick.

“Where’s Brooklyn?” he rasped.

His voice had gone four octaves deeper overnight. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. I pointed to my chest.

“In the sling. What happened?”

“I don’t know. It’s like I swallowed a golf ball.”

“Do you want some orange juice?” I asked. He nodded miserably.

I poured a tall glass of orange juice and handed it to him. He took a sip and winced as he swallowed. He pointed at Brooklyn.

“I better not be around her,” he said. “Germs.”

“Go to bed,” I said. “I’ll take care of you like you took care of me.”

I saw his gaze go to my eye; he winced. I shook my head.

“It’s okay. I’m thinking positive today. Go to bed.”

He sighed and nodded. I blew a kiss his way as he headed up the stairs.

Brooklyn began to get fussy about an hour after putting her in the sling. I dragged her baby swing downstairs and put it by the door, facing the ocean. I set her down and let it go. She wasn’t a big fan of her bouncer, but Nick had found that she was a big fan of her swing. She slapped at the little playthings across the bar and babbled to herself. I double checked that the door was bolted and headed up to check on Nick.

Nick was sprawled on the bed in his tight sports shorts. He was bare-chested but he had a scarf around his neck and a little humidifier plugged in on the nightstand. I handed him a warm mug of lemon tea.

“Thank you,” he said in baritone.

“No problem. Anything else I can get you?”

He shook his head. I smiled.

“I’m going to be downstairs working on seating arrangements. I’ll be back to check on you.”

Nick nodded. By the time I left he was on his cell phone, no doubt tweeting about his malady.

About an hour into arrangements, Brooklyn got bored with the swing. Bitsy was sniffing her feet and she was trying feebly to play “kick the squish nosed dog away,” but Bitsy kept darting away. She began to cry.

I scooped her out of the swing and held her up to my eyes. She sighed. I had successfully averted a dramatic meltdown.

Unfortunately, Nick chose that moment to sneak into the kitchen for a refill of orange juice. Brooklyn’s head turned just in time to see his back head towards the kitchen. Something in her mind must have triggered that she hadn’t seen her dad all day and now he was ignoring her. She let out a panicked cry. Nick turned in surprise.

“It’s okay Brookey,” he rasped. He waved at her; it just wouldn’t do. Her whole body wiggled against mine as she wailed.

“Oh crap,” Nick said.

“It’s okay. Grab your juice and head back up. I’ll distract her,” I said. Nick rocked on his heels and did an about face into the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator door open.

I tried a pacifier; she spit it out. I wound the swing back up; she wouldn’t go back in.

I had just lain down on the couch when I heard Nick head back upstairs. I placed Brooklyn on my chest.

You have no idea how disheartening it is to find that the one trick that had solved the problem before no longer worked. Before she had quieted down in moments; now she continued to cry and stare up at me as if it was my fault and she was far too smart to fall for the same old trick, especially if her daddy wasn’t holding her.

I knew at that moment that the second coming of crying had begun. The quiet had been nice while it lasted.

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The next seventy-two hours were a living hell. Nick was sicker the next day and went to the doctor to make sure he didn’t have strep. Luckily he didn’t, but the doctor warned him that the antibiotics would take awhile to kick in. After twenty four hours of crying I had sent Nick to recuperate at my mom’s. Between orange juice, cinnamon rolls, and antibiotics, I prayed for a fast recovery.

Meanwhile I had gotten no sleep. I had talked to Nick the evening of the third day and he sounded much better. He assured me he’d be back home in the morning.

“She’s still crying?” he asked incredulously. I laughed like someone who needed a straight jacket.

“Have you eaten?” Nick asked worriedly. “Or slept?”

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “I went through three weeks of this. Three days is nothing.”

He sighed. “I love you.”

I smiled. “Did mom take care of you?”

“Of course. I think I gained five pounds.”

I laughed. “Okay, I love you.

“Love you, too.”

After I had hung up the phone I picked Brooke up out of her crib and went downstairs into the living room. I still feebly tried to lay her on my chest. I turned on the television to add some background vocals to Brooklyn’s solo.

I settled on watching a VH1 special on the Top 100 songs of the 90’s. It made me feel old because I remembered almost every single one. Seeing Britney Spears at number 7 singing “Hit Me Baby One More Time” made me think of high school. The pigtail look had made a roaring comeback.

After singing along to Whitney Houston (at which point I think Brooklyn’s cries got even LOUDER), I broke into a smile as number three flashed onto the screen. It was “I Want It That Way.”

By the time Nick sang 'we are two worlds apart', I had an absolutely quiet baby on my hands. I stared down in amazement. All of the concerts she must have heard in the womb must have rubbed off on her. As the commentators broke in, I saw her face crumble.

“Is that what you want?” I asked as she broke out into a loud cry. “You want to hear dad?”

I held onto her and slid off the couch. I stood for a moment thinking; it wasn’t as if Nick had copies of Backstreet Boys videos in his DVD collection. But I did.

I set Brooke in her swing and headed down into the basement. All of the stuff I had kept at mom’s house in Wisconsin was now sitting in boxes in the basement. One was labeled “Liv’s Music Stuff.” I ripped open the box and began to dig through it. Halfway down I found what I was looking for: Backstreet Boys Greatest Video Hits.

“Alright!” I called out over her screams. “Let’s have a video party little one.”

I fiddled with the remote and inserted the DVD. I didn’t waste time sorting through the menu; I hit all and repeat and scooped Brooklyn up again.

It was magic. She went to sleep halfway through I’ll Never Break Your Heart.

I wasn’t far behind. It might sound bad to fall asleep while your fiancée’s on TV, but I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity.

Plus, the real thing was so much better.

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Nick was home bright and early the next morning. The DVD was still happily looping along. He shook me gently; I woke up to The Call.

“Wha?” I asked groggily. I looked up to see him smiling.

“Miss me that much?” he asked. His voice was still scratchy, but definitely much better than it had been. He pointed to the TV. I pointed to Brooke.

“It was the magic ingredient,” I explained. “She stopped crying.”

“Really? Huh,” Nick said thoughtfully. He sat down on the floor by the couch and watched the video.

“Damn, Howie’s hair was really long.”

I laughed. “Yes, it was.”

“I never understood how one minute I was driving the car and then Kevin popped up. It just never made any sense.”

“Yeah, I wondered that myself,” I admitted.

“By the way…where did you get this DVD?”

“Er, it’s part of my collection.”

“Your collection?”

I found myself blushing. Even so, I lifted my chin with a fake amount of pride.

“For your information, I had a music collection when I was a teen. My mom gave me the box when she moved into the condo.”

Nick grinned. “What else is in the box?”

“That’s not important.”

“I could go look.”

I sighed. “I have some concert tickets, some t-shirts, a glow stick that no longer glows, stuff like that.”

“All Backstreet Boys?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, not all Backstreet Boys.”

Nick grinned. “I bet you were a double dipper. I met you liked N’Sync.”

I knew he was teasing, but still my blush deepened. “Did not.”

“Did you go to a concert?”

I scoffed, but nodded. “But, it was only because my friends dragged me along,” I added in defense.

“If I go downstairs am I going to see any NSync stuff?”

I sighed. “Nick…”

“What?”

“Okay. I have the NSync Beanie Babies.”

He started to laugh.

“BUT that’s because I couldn’t even sell them. No one wants them. I’m stuck with them.”

“No Justin Timberlake dildo?”

I let out a little gasp. “Nick!”

“What?”

“You’re horrible.”

He snorted. Brooklyn’s eyes fluttered open. When she saw Nick she broke into one of her precious early morning smiles. He reached out and ran his finger under her chin.

“Hey princess. You’ve been quite the crybaby haven’t you?”

You wouldn’t know it by looking at her. She cooed happily, a big wad of drool landed on Nick’s finger. He scooped her off my chest.

“You sure you’re not contagious?” I asked.

“Seventy two hours. I’ve got the all clear. I just wish my voice didn’t sound so froggy,” he added. “The new website girl is coming here to do an interview with me today.”

Nick walked out of the living room and up the stairs towards the nursery. It took me a second to realize what he said; I jumped off the couch and followed him.

“You have a new web girl?” I asked, taking the steps two at a time.

“Yeah. Howie hired her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Kandy. With a ‘K.”

“How old is she?”

Nick put Brooklyn down on the changing table. He had gotten the tabs undone when he looked over at me. His eyes danced playfully.

“Why?”

“Just curious.”

“I think she’s twenty two or twenty three.”

“Oh. Do you know what she looks like?”

Nick laughed. “No. Why?”

“Just curious. Why?”

Nick smiled. “Just checking. I thought I detected a note of jealousy in your voice.”

“Jealous? Me? No way,” I said, shaking my head no.

Inside I was thinking ‘Jealous? Me?’ and I was shaking my head yes.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Nick said breezily.

“I’m not worried either,” I said.

But inside, maybe I was.

A little.

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Just a note: I won't have another Voodoo update until Sunday. I am taking a pilgrimage of a lifetime and will be basking in Backstreet Boys glory for three amazing days with a VIP pass and amazing concert tickets. I'll be back with a vengenance after getting a real-life taste of those four gorgeous guys!