Epilogue

One Year Later…

“No.” 

Clouds hanging heavy over the sky outside the nursery windows had cast shadows in the room and across Jon’s face, Sheridan discovered when the single belligerent word prompted her to look up from brushing the light blonde of Nicky’s flyaway hair.  Her reward for being concerned about her husband’s mood?  One sharp hit of his infamous stink-eye before he shifted his gaze sharply to Noelle. 

“Nicky, stop that!  It hurts Mommy,” she admonished her son, who had taken to biting with the appearance of his very first tooth.  As it was this time, her shoulder was most often his chosen victim, but he wasn’t picky – the shoulder of anyone holding him would do just fine. 

Like father, like son…

She turned her attention to the father then, still unsure as to what he was being surly about.  “’No’, what?”

Jon lifted his eyebrow at her as though she should know perfectly well what had prompted his pissy face and flicked another look to their daughter.  “Change her into one of those cute little pink, frilly things she has.”

Following his line of vision, Sheridan smothered a smirk.  The little girl was toddling around the nursery, her pink leggings bunched around her bare ankles.  The ruffled, leopard-print tunic edged with pink lace swirled around her pudgy knees as she separated her stuffed sheep from Nicky’s cars on the tiny table in the center of the floor.

“That IS pink and frilly.”  Sheridan smiled innocently at her annoyed husband.  He absolutely could not stand the sight of leopard print on Noelle, because his mind forever associated leopard print with his sex kitten and he wanted his daughter as far from sex kitten as he could keep her.  Honestly, sometimes Sheridan did it just to push his buttons.

“Oh bullshit,” he muttered, striding for the blue-eyed baby who grinned wide when she saw him, immediately stretching out her little arms so that he could swing her onto his hip.  “Just get the damn thing and I’ll change her myself.  Why did you buy this?”

“I didn’t.  It was a birthday gift from Riley.”

“Your sister is the devil in a bra,” he grumbled under his breath while plopping himself and Noelle down in the white upholstered chair next to the windows. 

Sheridan couldn’t help but chuckle as he stripped the offensive tunic off of their daughter and distastefully flung it toward the crib.  That earned her another stink eye when she passed him a pink t-shirt and pants that closely mirrored Nicky’s blue shirt and pants.  It was what she had planned on Noelle wearing all along. 

“I’m going to go change clothes,” she informed him, dipping in to plant a quick kiss on his temple and then dipping lower to blow on Noelle’s bare tummy.  “Will you keep an eye on the twins?  Hal will be here for the interview in about twenty minutes.”

One hand curled firmly around the squirming toddler, his other snaked into her hair and vivid blue eyes went from surly to sultry.  “Can’t we postpone this thing?  I’d rather take a ‘nap’ with you.”

It gratified her beyond all reason that this man still lusted after her like a horny teenager, even in her post-pregnancy state.  Regardless of how hard she tried, things just weren’t as firm as they’d been before she simultaneously carried two babies.  Despite that gratification, she still had to disappoint him this time around.

“We’ve put the poor man off for a year, Jon.  Business first, ‘nap’-time later – after the twins are asleep.”

He huffed only slightly before shooing her away.  “Then go already so we can get this over with and put the rugrats to bed.”

Slowly shaking her head and snickering, Sheridan heard him jabbering quietly to Noelle as Nicky banged one of the sheep with a truck.  “What the hell has mommy done to you, huh?  Tell her my little girl is an angel, not a kitten and I won’t put up with that nonsense.  No I won’t....  Nicky, be careful, buddy.  Don’t smash your fingers.”

Shaking her head with amusement, Sheridan slipped out leaving her son, daughter, husband and whole heart in the nursery.

Two years ago she never would’ve believed herself to be happily married to a rock star and loving every minute of mothering twins.  Was it easy?  No, but easy had never been her thing.  She liked the challenge of motherhood and the challenge of keeping up with her overachieving husband. 

Jon rarely sat still, even during his typical August vacation in the middle of the tour, and kept himself involved in a number of humanitarian projects at any given time.  His drive and ambition kept them both busy as she sought to support him and his endeavors in every way she could. 

He returned the favor and support by being a very hands-on father when he was home.  On more than one occasion, he’d sent her for a day out while he took care of the babies.  It didn’t matter that he usually ended up employing Amy or Margaret to help him do it.  He handled it without her and something that little that meant the world to Sheridan at times. 

Pushing into the master suite, she took a glance out the window and saw that the clouds were parting to let the sunshine push its way into the summer afternoon.  That moment reminded her of her life, in a way.  A Jamaican storm had rolled in a bevy of thunderclouds only to have them part way for the brightness of her happy future.

If you can just get through the storm, there’s a whole new world to be discovered after the rain.

What About Now?

Hal Bugliotti

It’s the name of the latest Bon Jovi album, and it’s everyone’s (my) question to the band’s front man, Jon Bon Jovi as he takes a break from his worldwide tour to return to his New Jersey home and celebrate his twins’ first birthday.

One year ago, I brought you the inside story on how Bon Jovi, 51, and his wife Sheridan King Bongiovi first met and fell in love.  Now the couple has graciously opened up their home so that readers can get a sneak peek into one of the most closely guarded private lives in rock and roll.

Upon arrival at the Bongiovi home, I am greeted by a staff member, to no surprise, but she didn’t escort me to the formal living room as one would expect.  Instead, she guided the way up the nearest staircase, saying that the Bongiovis were awaiting me in the nursery.

That’s when I knew this wasn’t going to be a typical Jon Bon Jovi interview, and I said as much to him when we shook hands.

“Yeah, well, there’s not much typical about me when I’m at home,” he responded glancing affectionately at the two toddlers playing in the middle of the airy, pastel room.  “Those two don’t allow for typical.”

Mrs. Bongiovi apologized for the unorthodox setting of the interview, stating that it was easiest to keep the children contented in their own space and that she was all about keeping the children contented.  Of course, my mind immediately wondered where the nanny was.  All of the rich and famous have nannies, right?

“No,” Sheridan said with a firm shake of the head.  “My children, my responsibility.  If they turn out to be a menace to society, you’ll know exactly who to blame.”

To which her husband arched a skeptical eyebrow and uttered a dry, “Me?”

There was a bit of good-natured bantering between the two before I was offered a seat in a comfortably stuffed white armchair by the bank of windows that looked out onto the Navesink River.  Jon settled himself into the wooden rocker, while Sheridan perched on one of the tiny toddler chairs at a matching table to gently referee her son, Nicholas (often referred to as Nicky), and daughter, Noelle.  Nicholas insisted upon ruining his sister’s neat row of little stuffed animals with a rampaging Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

With the children now contentedly playing, I considered it time to get serious about my interview before time slipped away. 

HAL:  Jon, how is it being a brand new father again at the ripe old age of 51?

JON:  Ah, yanno, it ain’t all that bad.  But I’ve been on tour the last few months, so I’ve missed out on some of the hard part – midnight feedings and all that.

SHERIDAN:  Not all of it, though, since he took me and all six kids to Europe for a couple of weeks in June.  That was fun. 

HAL:  The way you roll your eyes, I have to ask how so?

JON (snickering):  My keyboardist, David Bryan, is a monumental pain in the keister.  Practical joker through and through and he kept bugging Sheridan about not having a nanny.  Said he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to sleep through the whole night. 

SHERIDAN:  So I made HIM my nanny.  The twins spent a night in his hotel room and came back to me more spoiled than ever.  He taught Noelle to play the maracas like her daddy whenever she hears “Keep the Faith”.  The only problem is that Nicky wanted a turn and she didn’t want to share, so she whacked him in the face with them.  The black eye lasted long after our trip to Europe.

HAL:  Jon, what do your older kids think about the twins?

JON:  They love ‘em.

HAL:  But weren’t they shocked at first?  I understand that this wasn’t exactly something the two of you had planned out.

JON:  No, this wasn’t a finely executed plan.  My kids needed time to adjust, just like we did, but now Nicky and Noelle could be any more cherished.  My kids take care of each other and the twins are no exception.  Romeo’s happy not to be the baby anymore. 

HAL:  Speaking of shocking, Sheridan...  You had a bit of a sideline career at the beginning of the marriage.  Some writing for Cosmopolitan Magazine? 

SHERIDAN:  I did.

HAL:  And... Are you going to continue with a writing career in that vein?

JON:  Sheridan writes strictly for personal pleasure now.  MY personal pleasure. 

SHERIDAN (smiling):  My career is my family.  Whatever keeps them safe and happy is my job.

HAL:  So nothing outside of your family then?  No pet projects?

SHERIDAN:  I didn’t say that.  I’m very involved with the local library and some other organizations that are dear to my heart and Jon’s.

HAL:  Yes, that’s right.  You’ve recently become involved with efforts to improve the lives of autistic children.  A one-on-one individualized reading program geared specifically to those who are unable to live with their families.

SHERIDAN:  That’s right.  They seem to benefit from the auditory contact.

HAL:  How did you become drawn into that area?  Does it have anything to do with Elizabeth Miller?

Elizabeth Miller was recently convicted of violating a number of HIPAA privacy laws.  Those privacy laws impacted the Bongiovis specifically, placing them in the media spotlight a number of times during the past year.  The Bongiovis originally filed civil charges against Miller, but later withdrew them.  Miller’s son is autistic.

SHERIDAN:  Children’s reading is my passion and always has been.  I owned a chain of bookstores for a number of years whose primary focus was children’s literature.

JON:  The “Sit, Stay, Read” program is another of Sheridan’s involvements. 

“Sit, Stay, Read” has school-age children improving their reading skills by reading aloud to dogs.  Jon revealed previously that seeing Sheridan do a news interview about the program on the news was a key factor in their early relationship.

Noticing that Jon has begun checking the face of his ever-present watch, I know that he’s growing weary of the questions.  My time and opportunity is drawing to a close, but I can’t let it pass without taking the money shot that every journalist in the world would long to take.

HAL:  So the two of you have nothing to do with an anonymously funded scholarship at Fernhill Academy?  Of which Elizabeth Miller’s son is the recipient?

Fernhill Academy is a residential school for children with autism, where Miller’s son is living while she serves her sentence.   It was only a fleeting change in expression, but from the look on her face, Sheridan Bongiovi had no idea that any such scholarship existed.  Jon, however, didn’t blink.

JON:  I won’t say I’m familiar with the name, but there are a lot of anonymously funded scholarships out there.  People in a position to do so want to help someone besides themselves, without any accolades.  I say more power to them.

At that point, little Nicholas toddles over to his father, holding up the motorcycle with a wide four-toothed grin.  It’s difficult to understand the boy, but the words sound a lot like “dada” and “poo”, and I can’t keep a sly smirk off my face as Jon keeps his son at a slight distance.

HAL:  It looks like you’re a hands-on dad, then?  Changing diapers and all that?

JON (grimacing before turning a charming smile toward his wife):  I can.  But I give her an obscene check for every one she doesn’t make me change.

And that, ladies and gentleman, is the real inside scoop on Jon and Sheridan Bongiovi.  Poopy diaper bribes among the rich and famous.  You heard it here first.

We hope that you've enjoyed Jon and Sheridan's story and we appreciate you!  Thanks to you for your ongoing support.  

~♥blush & Audra  

123 - Labor of Love

The pounding in his chest wasn’t getting any better as his wife pushed.  He was about to be a daddy – again – and he was unaccountably scared shitless.  He should be used to this.  He had four kids for God’s sake.  None of them had been dropped on their heads or ruined beyond repair.  Why was he worried about this one.

Not this ONE.  These TWO. 

Twins.  It was going to be an entirely different scene with double trouble and he was damn nervous about being responsible for a pair of girls who couldn’t tell him what they wanted or needed.

“Jon.”  Sheridan’s voice was just sharp enough to draw his head out of the fog of near panic between contractions. 

He fixed an easy, relaxed smile to his face and focused his attention on her.  “What is it, Kitten?”

“I love you, but your duck paddling can NOT take priority right now.  Seizure-riddled cat takes priority today.  Stay with me.  Please.”

The superficial smile found roots and grew for the woman who knew him so very well.  “Yes, dear.  Sorry.”

“Thank- Oh!”  The next contraction had her head and shoulders lifting off the bed, bowing up and following the encouraging instructions for “One big push”. 

The next directive of “Again” had the relative quiet of the delivery room split with the cry of a newborn child.

“And here’s your little girl,” Dr. Orbuch announced cheerfully, placing the messy, squirming bundle on Sheridan’s chest.  Tiny arms and legs flailed in the air with fingers splayed outward as her little lungs got their very first workout.  Her sparse hair was too wet to distinguish the color accurately, but it looked to be some shade of blonde.  Her wrinkly little face was just as pink as it could be and the little button nose was appropriately dainty for a baby girl.

Jon’s eyes misted and his heart ached as it stretched wider to give his newest baby as much room as her siblings.  Each one of his children was different, but they all had their own irrevocable space staked out in his heart.  That included daddy’s newest girl, with the scrunchy blue eyes. 

She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Isn’t she beautiful, Kitten?”   

“That’s Noelle,” his wife breathed, arching her neck to get a better look at their first daughter.  “Noelle Catherine.”

Sheridan had been nothing short of amazing during the six hours of labor, taking each contraction in stride.  The months of research had evidently paid off, because once she equated what she was feeling to what she had read, his wife had pretty well taken control of the situation. 

There had been none of the stereotypical emasculation of the man who did this to her, no cussing, no crying, no screaming.  Sheridan had simply calculated the time between contractions, requested the epidural when they hit the right intervals and had a baby.  Jon would swear she hadn’t even broken a sweat – up until the moment he saw a droplet running over the arch of her cheek.  It wasn’t until it was followed by three more than he realized they were tears.

“Hey, hey…” he crooned, wiping them away with a fingertip and squeezing the hand he hadn’t released since arriving at the hospital.  “You did good!  There’s nothing to cry about.”

 “I know,” she sniffled, her eyes never straying from the tiny new life cradled against her bosom.  “I just need a minute.”  Watery green eyes flicked up to lock with his for a split second.  “She’s real Jon.  Noelle isn’t just a name anymore.  She’s a living, breathing child.  Our child.  My heart isn’t big enough for the love inside of me right now.”

The words came rushing back to him like a re-run from the hot Jamaican beach where they spent their honeymoon.  He had told her almost exactly the same thing when she was freaking out over not being able to love a poppy seed. 

“That feeling…  On Christmas morning... That’s exactly what you’ll feel like when they hand you your baby for the first time – only better.  There won’t be enough room in your heart to hold all the love.  I promise that if you don’t feel that way, I’ll buy you another car.”

If it had been any other time or any other place, he would’ve given her a hard time about being right.  Too full of love for both his wife and daughter to say ‘I told you so’, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “I knew I wasn’t gonna have to buy you that car.”

Her lips quivered a bit around the edges of a teary smile as a nurse swept Noelle away for vitals and cleanup.  “Lucky for you.  I was going to ask for a minivan.”

“Alright, Sheridan.  Are you ready to do this again?” Dr. Orbuch overrode Jon’s quiet chuckle with the business of their other daughter’s imminent arrival.  “The second baby’s crowning.”

Jon’s hand tightened briefly around hers and he nodded with encouragement.  Considering the ease and grace with which she’d delivered the first baby, this was going to be another quick walk in the park.  He just knew it. 

“Nicole’s ready, Kitten.  It’s time to make our family complete.” 

It was only a matter of moments before his wife had stoically gone through the necessary motions and a lusty wail filled the room.  Nicole Suzanne had arrived and she was wanted the world know it. 

“Well that’s a surprise,” the doctor mused dryly, causing Jon’s forehead to furrow with concern.  She placed the baby on Sheridan’s chest just as she had done the first, informing them, “Your son has ten fingers, ten toes and is a hide-and-seek champ already.”

Eyes glued to the squirming infant, Jon’s heart grew to five times its usual size when he confirmed that there was, indeed, outdoor plumbing on their second child. 

“You beautiful, beautiful woman,” he crowed, planting an enthusiastic kiss on top of Sheridan’s head and laughing with delight.  “It’s a boy!”

The green eyes he loved so much were swimming with confusion.  He could visibly see her trying to make this unexpected piece of the puzzle fit into her pre-assembled, organized picture.   “A boy?  But...  I bought pink teddy bears... and named him Nicole.”

❧❧❧

“You threw Mommy for an awful loop, Nicholas Anthony,” Sheridan chided softly to the bundled baby in her arms. 

It was almost midnight and all was quiet in the Bongiovi family hospital nest.   After his boys had visited with their new siblings, Jon had taken them home and was going to get some rest before coming back in the morning.  Noelle was sleeping quietly in a bassinette within arms’ reach, her little pink skull cap peeking out from the brightly printed receiving blanket. 

She brushed a gentle fingertip down her son’s pink cheek and his perfectly bowed lips parted, working hungrily before closing again.  “I was all set for two little girls and then there was you.  I don’t think you understand how Mommy operates, sweetheart.  I like to know what’s going to happen.  I like to make plans and you did not give me time to plan.”

Touching the tiny cleft in his chin and marveling at how beautifully perfect he was, she continued on in a soothing lecture. 

“Is this how it’s going to be?  Hmm?  You’re going to always keep me guessing, aren’t you?  Probably at your daddy’s urging.  If there was any way he could have a hand in this, I would swear he did, just to ruffle Mommy’s feathers.

“Well, I just want to warn you that Aunt Riley is going to expect accolades from you for the rest of her life.  She’s bringing a non-pink outfit for you tomorrow and considers herself your savior.  Of course, I’d be surprised if Daddy doesn’t call Uncle Tico and get a full line of Rock Star Baby wear.  You’ll be wearing black leather and skulls before you know it.”

“Tony’s sending him a little leather Harley jacket.”  Sheridan’s head snapped up to confront her stealthy-footed husband, who stood over the bassinette, his broad palm was stroking Noelle’s sleeping back.  “He’s all kinds of happy to have a namesake.”

“I’m glad, but what are you doing here?”

Fatigue was digging deep trenches around his eyes as he smiled fondly.  “My wife and our brand new babies are here.  Where the hell else you think I’m gonna be?”

“Home in bed, getting some sleep.”  She tried to be stern, but in truth, she was glad to see him.   This first night...  It seemed like something they should be sharing.

“Sleep is for pussies,” he scoffed softly, a fingertip tracing the tiny shell of his daughter’s ear.  “How ya feelin’, Kitten?”

“Tired, but okay.”

He nodded absently, his attention drifting from daughter to son as he approached the bed and cradled the baby boy’s tiny head.  “How’s my Nicky?  Did he eat?”

The tender endearment filled Sheridan’s eyes  until they spilled over with tears.  Nicky.  Of course their son wouldn’t be something so stuffy as ‘Nicholas’, and the endearment suited the youngest Bongiovi to a tee.

“Yeah,” she sniffled, grateful that Jon didn’t either notice or comment on the tears.  “They’ve both eaten and should be good for a couple of hours.  I’m supposed to be taking a nap so I can feed them when they wake up.”

“Then gimme.”  With the practiced hands of a seasoned father, he scooped up the tiny bundle and tucked him into the bassinette with his sister.  Turning back to Sheridan, he patted her hip with the back of his knuckles.  “Now scoot over.  I’ll lay with you awhile.  We’ll both catch a nap.”

Making room for him in the hospital bed, she gratefully snuggled into his chest when his arm dropped around her shoulders.  He smelled musky.  Not like cologne, nor sweaty, but simply the scent of Jon after a long day.  He smelled like bedtime. 

She took a deep, relaxing breath and her hair scraped over his t-shirt when she nodded toward the babies.  “We did that, Jon.  Those are our babies.”

“Yeah, they are.”  He sifted his fingers lazily through her hair and crossed his ankles on the bed.  “I wouldn’t have asked for this in a million years.  Not the way it happened and maybe not ever, but damned if I could be any happier right this minute.”

“Mmm...  You sure Karma wasn’t just being a vindictive bitch by bringing us back together at that party?”

His chest rumbled under her cheek as he chuckled.  “Doesn’t matter.  I still say she was my vindictive bitch.  You... me... all of us... how our lives are playing out.   I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Yeah.  Me either.” 

Several moments and an untold amount of heartbeats went by as they enjoyed Karma, each other,  the babies and the sweet familial glow that surround them all.  There was something undeniably right in this hospital room – and Sheridan’s world – tonight.  There was no place she’d rather be and no one she’d rather be with – and she had the peace of knowing that Jon felt the same way. 

The best thing?  This wasn’t just tonight.  This was the rest of their lives.  Loving, fighting, together, apart, up, down and everything in between, it was always going to be them.  Some people didn’t have the luxury of knowing that deep down in their soul and Sheridan considered herself not only lucky, but blessed.

She arched her neck to press a soft kiss on the underside of her biggest blessing’s jaw.  “I love you, Jon.  Now and always.”

“Back at ya, baby.”  His arms drew tight and a lingering kiss found the top of her head.  ”Right back at ya.”
0)
~~ Every effort will be made to make the usual Thursday installment deadline.  Worst case scenario should be Friday.  Thanks!  :)

122 - Two Stooges

Mommy and Me

August 15, 2012

Exciting family news, Poppies!  Maxwell Francis Bongiovi was born at 5:00 yesterday evening, only one week late.  Cousin Max and Aunt Desiree are doing great.  Not so sure about Uncle Matt, though.  He’s been running back and forth between his house, Grandma Carol’s (where Bella and Rocca are staying) and the hospital since Max was born.  I think he’s a little tired. 

As for you and me, kids...  We’re in the home stretch.  The doctor says you aren’t technically scheduled to arrive until September 18^th, but you could come at any time and be perfectly healthy now.  So, could we move this along please?  I’m swelling up like a puffer fish, I have rolls on my swollen ankles and this heat is absolutely killing me.  I can barely move around the house.

On the bright side, I got to tell your daddy “I told you so” for getting the nursery finished so early.  There’s no way I could finish it now. 

Uncle Richie is coming for a visit this weekend.  His new solo album is finished and he wants to share it with us before the release date, which, coincidentally enough, is September 18^th.  Daddy’s excited for him, but he’s also excited for the band’s new album they’re going to finish recording while Uncle Richie is here.  He loves it when the boys come to play with him.

Big sigh.  Even though Richie’s the only one actually staying at the house, it still means that we will have all of your “uncles” underfoot this weekend – along with your brothers.   That’s way too many guys in the house, my darling daughters.  I might have to see if Aunt Riley or Suzy want to come for a visit, too.

Would you like to know a secret?  I actually like having people in the house – even if they ARE a bunch of boys.    I should go make sure Margaret remembered to get extra pantry supplies to feed the troops…

❧❧❧

“Whassup, Stormy?”  Richie loped into the kitchen, hooking one finger in the handle of the refrigerator and popping the door open with one sharp tug.  His shaggy head disappeared behind the stainless steel barrier for a moment before he resurfaced with a bottle of water. 

Sheridan glanced up from her iPad and iced tea with a little smile.  She supposed he was never going to let go of that nickname, but she was getting used to it.  More importantly, she was getting used to him.  Gone was that little bit of tension that had come when he entered the room, brought on by uncertainty as to what he was going do or say next.  He was genuinely a good guy, who occasionally had problems.  No more, no less.

Once she realized that, she was grateful to resume the comfort that they’d shared before the ‘incident’ in his kitchen.  Because of his closeness with Jon, he was going to be a part of their family’s lives and it was nice to feel good about that.

“Just trying to find some suggestions on comfortable sitting positions for a humpfront whale.”  She shifted on the chair and adjusted the lumbar cushion at the dip of her spine.  “My back is killing me today.”

Richie snorted and propped himself up against the island and crossed his ankles as the blue bottle cap spun closed under his fingers.  “Humpfront whale?  Sounds like something Lemma came up with.”

“He doesn’t get credit for that one,” she sniffed haughtily.  “David isn’t the only quirky mind around.”

“Kinky mind?” the man in question crowed cheerily as he stepped into the room and also dipped into the refrigerator for water.  “Did someone call me?”

Richie’s open hand whipped out lazily, his knuckles hitting David’s ribcage with a dull ‘thunk’.  “Not kinky, ya perverted fuck.  Quirky.  Stormy called herself a humpfront whale.  She was being quirky.”

“Damn.”  The curly headed man’s expressive mouth arched downward in disappointment.  “There was humping and I missed it?  The boss man and his fuckin’ work ethic is seriously cramping my exquisite timing.”

Sheridan rolled her eyes and was preparing to offer up a catty retort when a sharp pain on the right side of her stomach sucked a loud push of air from her lungs.  Both men’s faces went serious and they took a step toward her with concern. 

“Stormy?  You okay?”

Oh my God.  Was that a contraction?

She sat very still with her hand on her stomach, fearful of moving.  It was with only the slightest inclination of her head that indicated she was fine.

“Sheridan are you sure?”

Feeling nothing else amiss after the long pause, she leaned back into the chair and pivoted her face toward David.  With a curious cock of her head, she asked, “Excuse me?  I think that’s the first time you’ve ever called me by my actual name.  Who are you and what have you done with the Slinky-headed smartass that usually resides in that body?”

“Oh I see how you are!  It was a pitiful attempt for attention and sympathy.”  He waggled one finger at her in front of a suspiciously squinted eye.  “Don’t be playing the false labor shit, girlfriend.  It ain’t cute.”

“Yeah, don’t be messing with us,” Richie concurred.  “I don’t know nothin’ about birthin’ no babies, Miss Scarlett – and don’t fuckin’ wanna know, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah, because I want two of the Three Stooges bringing my daughters into the world,” she laughed just before her belly rippled painfully for a second time.  This time she withheld the gasp, but her hand tightened fiercely around the iced tea glass she had just reached for. 

Oh my word.  I think I’m going into labor…

“David, where’s Jon?”

Peering at her from beneath a furrowed brow, he offered slowly, “In the studio with Teek.  Why?”

Her chin tipped up and she looked from David’s blue eyes to Richie’s brown, her mouth set in a flat line as fear fluttered its wings inside of her.  She wasn’t ready for this.  It wasn’t time.  She was supposed to have a full month left to prepare herself! 

Well, your daughters have different ideas and you don’t get the luxury of a meltdown until they’re taken care of.  Get a grip!

“Would you go get him please?” she requested, carefully keeping her voice both calm and even.  “Tell him I’m sorry to interrupt, but I'm pretty sure he's about to be a daddy again.”