112 - As Much As It Takes

Mommy and Me

April 22, 2012

It’s been quite the blissful little weekend at home, my sweet pink Poppies.  Your brothers came for the weekend and we went bowling again, but this time Mommy just watched.  She’s not bending so well at the waist these days.

I’m still tickled pink to know that I have two little girls that I get to be a mommy to.  I didn’t realize how much I wanted you to be girls until I found out that you were.  Your Aunt Suzy and Aunt Riley are going to go insane buying frilly little dresses, shoes and headbands.  I just know they are.

But they will have to wait a while.  Daddy and I have decided to keep this news to ourselves for the time being.  We’re going to have another family get-together here at the house next month for Memorial Day and Stephanie’s birthday, so we will invite everyone and share the news with them then.  That still gives them all three months to go on their shopping frenzies.

In the meantime, I’m shopping online for pink stuffed bunnies.  They’ll be so cute in your beds.

xoxo

(PS: Daddy’s names of the day are Laverne and Shirley.  No, he doesn’t hate you.  He just likes jerking Mommy’s chain.)

❧❧❧

Beth sighed, her fingers tapping thoughtfully on the mouse in front of her on Monday morning.   The means she’d found to pay off those delinquent bills had become too tempting as an additional resource to pay off her current ones – the ones that never went away.  Those were the ones that came every single month and seemed to get larger with each billing. 

Those bills are what had driven her to call her buddy at TMZ about Jon Stewart’s marital problems.  They’d also spurred her into divulging Mariah Carey’s failed attempts at pregnancy.  Now…

Haven’t you preyed on this family enough?

Yes, she probably had, but it was almost a compulsion now.  Double-clicking the file, she made a quick persual of the contents.  Yes, her contact would pay for this information.  She was sure of it.

I’m sorry.  If you only knew, you’d understand.

❧❧❧

 

“Okay, that’s cool.  I’ll be out on Thursday then,” David Bryan assured Jon amiably.  His boss had called him to schedule a studio session on one of the new songs.  Seeing as today was Tuesday, it was kind of short notice, but that’s the way Jon rolled.  He got an itch and he wanted it scratched yesterday.  It kept life interesting

A chorus of horns blared in David’s ear as he opened his mouth to ask about Sheridan.  It sounded like Jon was in the middle of the Indy 500.  “Where the hell are you, man?”

“Ah, traffic coming out of New York is shitty this afternoon.  I’m stuck in gridlock just outside the Lincoln Tunnel.”

David absently checked the second hand on his watch. 

“Oh good, you’ve got time to chitchat then.  So how’s the siren?  And the seedling sirens?  Did you find if the kids have indoor or outdoor plumbing yet?”  He had developed a game over the years to see how quickly he could get Jon to say ‘shut up’.  So far his personal best had been thirty seconds, but he had aspirations for a much better time. 

His friend groaned.  “Why the hell did you say that?  Like I need to think about the possibility of having two siren daughters?  Horny boys are only after one thing as it is.”

“Might as well get used to it, old man.  The way Sheridan looks and the way women drop their panties in front of you…  Sailors are going to be lined up around the block for a crack at your daughters.  Probably even some smarmy old fucks mixed in with the Justin Beiber clones wantin’ to get lucky.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lemma,” Jon snarled crankily, making David grin like a buffoon. 

He checked his watch.

Fifteen seconds.  Damn, I’m good.

“Who says you’re having girls, anyway?  Maybe Stephanie is destined to be your only princess.  You got a fifty-fifty shot.”

“My odds aren’t quite that good, I’m afraid.  Fuck man, we’re finally going into the tunnel.  I’m gonna lose my cell signal, so I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Alright.  Later.”  David hung up shaking his head and mentally plotted a way to trump his new fifteen second record.

❧❧❧

 

Jeri hit the disconnect button with a growl of frustration when the call once again went straight to voicemail.  Wherever her boss was, he wasn’t answering his phone.  She’d been trying repeatedly for the last ten minutes to reach him with no success.

Now she had a choice to make.  Did she call Sheridan or wait until she actually spoke to Jon?  Jon was her actual employer, but Jeri wasn’t crazy about letting Sheridan find out about this on her own.  She had developed a friendship of sorts with the woman and she felt she owed this to her.

Jeri tapped the screen and dialed the new house on the Navesink.

If Jon gets mad, he gets mad.

❧❧❧

 

When she heard the phone begin to ring, Sheridan punched the button that would slow the treadmill from a brisk walk to a more sedate pace and answered the cordless handset with a breathless, “Hello?”

These daily walks were getting harder and hard to do.  She knew they would benefit her, but it didn’t take any time at all for the twins to start shoving on either her lungs or her bladder.  If she could keep from peeing all over the treadmill between now and her due date, she would consider it a major coup.

“Sheridan, it’s Jeri.  I’ve been trying to reach Jon, but can’t get an answer.  Would he happen to be at home?”

“No.  I think he should be on his way, though.  He had some meetings in the city today.  Do you want me to have him call you when he gets here?”

The other woman drew in a deep breath and Sheridan knew whatever she wanted to talk to Jon about couldn’t be good.  “He can if he wants to, and I’m sure he will, but I’ll go ahead get my answer from you if that’s okay.”

One more push of the control panel had the treadmill coming to a complete standstill and Sheridan stepped off of it and sat on one of the lightly padded benches.  What kind of question could she possibly answer for Jon’s assistant?

She frowned at the wall of mirrors reflecting her image.  “I guess it is.” 

“Please know that I’m very sorry and I hate to be the one to do this to you...”  The hair on the back of Sheridan’s neck prickled at Jeri’s hesitation.  “...but TMZ would like a comment on the ultrasound results.  Are you excited about having two girls, or were you hoping for boys?”

Impulsively, she draped her forearm over her stomach to protect her daughters

“No comment.  I’m not telling them anything,” was her terse stance as the phone beeped in her ear, signaling another incoming call.  It was the same answer Jon had provided every other time this had happened and she knew it was what he would want to reply yet again.  “The other line is ringing, Jeri.  I’ll tell Jon you called – and why.”

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.  Goodbye, Jeri.”  Tapping the correct button the handset, she picked up the other call, hoping that it was Jon.  “Hello?”

“Sheridan, this is Carol.  May I speak to Jon, please?”

Her mother-in-law.  And she didn’t sound happy.

Well, welcome to the club.  What’s YOUR problem?

She admirably stifled her attitude and regretfully told Jon’s mother, “No, I’m sorry he’s not, Carol.  Can I take a message or have him call you when he gets in?”

“Well, then, maybe you can tell me why I had to find out that I’m expecting twin granddaughters from Betty Carlson next door.  That was very awkward and I don’t appreciate it.”

Sheridan’s fury hit a whole new level.  She was pissed beyond all measure. 

God give me strength not to take my anger out on her.

“I don’t appreciate it either, Carol.  Jon and I hadn’t told anyone, but somehow the press got hold of the information.  I assure you that we never intended to slight you in any way.  We had planned to let everyone know at Memorial Day.”

“Sheridan!”  Jon’s voice found its way down the stairs.  “Where the hell are you?”

Oh, thank you.  Thank you, thank you.

“In the gym!” she called out, placing her hand over the mouthpiece before doing so.

“Is that Jon?  Could I speak to him, please?”

Not until I do.

Uncovering the receiver, she spoke again directly to her mother-in-law.  “I’d be happy to have him call you back in a few minutes, but I think I need to bring him up to speed first.  Fifteen minutes, tops.  I promise.”

Sheridan disconnected the call and rose to her feet, greeting her husband with a stony and silent stare. 

“Hey...baby...?”  His pretty blue eyes were puzzled at the cold reception.  “What’s wrong?”

What was wrong?  Her two innocent little girls had been forced to endure this paparazzi bullshit almost from the moment of their conception.  That’s what was wrong!

Was this the life she had to look forward to her for her children?  Their every step would be dogged?  Every secret spilled out before the world so that Conan O’Brien or Craig Ferguson could speculate on it during their nightly monologues?

No.  Hell, no. 

She pushed the telephone into his chest.  “Where the hell have you been and why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“I got stuck in the tunnel.  No signal.  What the fuck are you so mad about?”

“I’m mad because Jeri couldn’t get in touch with you.  I’m mad because your mother couldn’t get in touch with you.  I’m MAD because I’m tired of this shit!”

He threw the phone on the bench and gave her a look of exasperation.  “Calm the fuck down and tell me what’s going on!”

“The same thing that always goes on; TMZ is broadcasting our private lives!”  She shook herself free from his grasp.  “Your mother is insulted that she found out about her granddaughters from the neighbor and I can’t say that I blame her!”

“Goddammit!”  He hit the wall with his fist hard enough to rattle the adjacent floor-to-ceiling mirrors.  “What did Jeri say?”

“She asked me for a comment,” Sheridan spat at him.  “Was I happy with girls, or did I want boys?”

“And you told her ‘no comment’, right?”

“Yes,” she barked out with humorless laughter.  “I know the drill by now.  I’m not doing this, Jon.  My daughters – my sweet little girls – shouldn’t have to live like this!  It’s bad enough that we are, but how can they ever be expected to lead normal lives with these vultures hanging around?  Tell me that!”

“Stop flipping the fuck out!  Jesus!  Take a deep breath and get a grip on yourself!”

She thumped her open palms into his shoulders.  “These are my babies.  MY babies, not some celebrity progeny!  I want them to stay the hell away from my babies.  Do you hear me?”

“I hear you,” he growled, snatching her wrist and hauling her in to stand only inches in front of him.  “Now you hear me...  This is new right now – we’re new.  Our lives are exciting and fresh and have their interest.  When the babies are born and the press realizes we’re just going to lead a very normal, non-celebrity lifestyle, they’ll get bored and go away.  I’ve raised four kids in a fairly normal way and I promise our girls will be, too.”

He had a point.  But was that his doing or Dorothea’s?  Sheridan might not necessarily want to, but she thought she was going to have to talk to Jon’s ex.  Perhaps it would give her some peace.

In the meantime...

“Well, I tell you what,” she told her husband with a stubborn tilt to her chin.  “I’m going to find out who’s leaking this personal information if it kills me.  And you’re going to give me your wholehearted support, regardless of what I ask.  Got it?”

“Whoa.  You oughta know by now that I don’t make blind promises.  What are you going to ask for?”

She couldn’t answer him specifically, because that had yet to be determined.  It may be very little, or it may be a lot.  She would have to wait and see.

“I’ll ask for as much as it takes.”