Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 25

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 25
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

"Are we close to the mall?" I asked, as Nick drove by the entrance for the highway after we left the Waffle House.

He shook his head. "No. You wanted to see where I grew up, right?"

"Yes, absolutely! Is this your old 'hood?"

He nodded, grabbing my hand in his. I liked this, holding hands with my boy and riding around with the windows down. It was just perfect. And now I got to see where he grew up, and meet the people who were important to him. Suddenly we were just real people in a real relationship, not two rock stars trying to schedule a few spare days together.

"I love you, Nick," I said, and he looked over at me, a smiling spreading across his lips.

"Me, too, baby. Remember that when you see the rest of neighborhood, okay?"

"Awww… you could live in a trailer park, and I'd still love you, bunny." He rolled his eyes, and I leaned over to see him better. "Seriously, I don't love you because of your money."

I couldn't breathe for a moment when he didn't answer. He couldn't believe that, could he? I mean, I guess we'd only really been together for a few months…

As if he could sense my rising panic, he reached over, stroking my face as he glanced away from the road for a second. "I know that… but you deserve the world, Rache. And I… I'm lucky, I guess. For everything and now for you… it's… well, you'll see." He turned down a residential street, and I looked around. Is this where he grew up, or did we have farther to go?

We never really talked about his childhood or family or any of this stuff. Was I in for more than I bargained for here? Was he taking me to some scary Tampa ghetto? No… I'd read Jane's books. It wasn't that bad. They didn't have a lot of money, but they seemed like a tight family.

After a couple of blocks, he parked on the street, and leaned around me to look at the house in front of us. "That's the house I grew up in," he said, pointing to it.

I followed his gaze. It was just a normal house, certainly nothing scary. It had a garage and a porch swing and a little yard. "It's nice."

"It's only got three bedrooms, so Aaron and I shared, and the girls shared, and then Mom and Dad. One and a half bathrooms, so we had a shower schedule. Luckily we could afford a bigger house by the time the girls were old enough to spend all day primping."

I turned to look at him, but he was still contemplating the house. "You made it big just in time," I joked, but he didn't laugh.

"I did. I wonder… sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I didn't join Backstreet, and I never made any money. Would we still be living there?"

I stroked his face, and he looked at me, his expression softening as our eyes met. "But you are successful, and now you all live on a compound in the Keys."

He settled back into his seat, resting his hands on the steering wheel and looking out at the street. "Everyone in my family gave up a lot for me. All the extra money went to my singing lessons, and costumes, and gas to drive to Orlando like ten times a month." He pointed to the house next to theirs, changing the subject. "That's the retirement home. Looks like it still is… "

That was a bigger house, and it had a sign in front: "Restful Acres". Sounded like a graveyard more than a retirement home. "Did you spend a lot of time there?" I asked, and he nodded.

"All the time. We all worked there. Cleaning up, and helping serve the meals, and just hanging out with the residents. I guess I was there the least, because I was always on an audition or something, but… yeah. We were there a lot."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "They always liked seeing us kids, so it was fun. I sang for them all the time. They used to tease me that I'd be big and famous one day."

"They were right. It sounds like a good childhood, Nick," I said carefully, and he smiled at me.

"It was. I liked going on auditions and getting out of school. I had fun. It wasn't a completely normal childhood, but it was what I wanted. I just wonder…"

"What?"

"Aaron went on the road when he was eight. Eight! I was just starting the auditions when I was eight."

Oh. This weird mood was about Aaron? Now I got it…

"He's got his own wing at the compound. He's got a bedroom, and a bathroom, a living room. Even his own kitchen. Is that good? Does he ever see anyone else? No wonder he's bored. When we lived here, we were always on top of each other. I hated it then, but now I think it was cool. Mom always knew where everyone was. We all worked at the home, so we saw each other all the time. Now I can go months without seeing anyone in my family."

Is that why Mom and Dad were fighting so much? They never saw each other, either. Mom was always on the road with Aaron, and Dad was home with the girls. Sometimes he drove Aaron's bus… but even then, he was driving and Mom and Aaron were in the back doing business stuff.

When Mom and Dad were on the road with Aaron, one of the grandparents or someone stayed with the girls. No wonder I felt like I barely knew my family sometimes.

"That's like us and the winery, I guess. Sometimes I feel left out, since I'm not there every day."

Rachel sounded a little sad, and I reached over to stroke her cheek. "Homesick, buttercup?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I should call my mom later, though. I told her I'd call when I got here, but you distracted me."

Smiling, I kissed her quickly. "Sorry."

"Don't be." She smiled up at me, reaching up to brush the hair out of my eyes, "Aaron has his own wing at the compound?"

"Yeah. I've got my little separate house, but everyone else lives at the big house. They've all got their own space. Is that weird?"

Rachel shrugged. "I lived in the attic when I was his age. I could disappear for days, if I wanted. I'd come down for meals, though. He eats, right?"

I laughed. "Yeah. He eats plenty. He's fine, right?"

"Just bored. Does he have friends in Marathon? Should we go back today, and keep him company?"

"No," I answered quickly. "You don't need to meet my family yet."

"Why?" She gave me a worried look, and I just didn't want to explain it all. I didn't even understand it myself.

"They're crazy," I joked. "And you're still tired. At least my friends tonight will just be for a few hours. I don't think you're ready for Carter family togetherness for at least a couple of days."

She giggled, kissing me quickly. "That's okay. I won't be able to ravish you as much when we're with them."

"Then we're never going to Marathon."

I loved that cocky grin of hers, and I kissed her, cupping her face in my hands. She opened up to me, leaning into my body and moaning slightly as I deepened our kiss. When I finally had to move away to breathe, I hated to let her go. "I love you, Rache," I whispered against her lips, and she nodded.

"Love you, too. Even if you did grow up in a scary part of Tampa."

I pulled away, looking around the neighborhood. "Are you scared?"

She laughed. "No, bunny. I was just kidding. You were sorta talking like I needed to be prepared."

"No. It's just pretty different from how I live now." I glanced down the street, remembering that Anna used to live three blocks down. I could get to her house in five minutes. Tony was four minutes, if I cut through backyards to get there.

"Well, most kids don't get to grow up on compounds in the Keys, baby. It's not like anyone else in your band grew up rich, either."

Laughing, I sat back to start the car again. We had stuff to do. Couldn't sit here all day reliving my childhood. "I've been to Kentucky. I might be white trash, but Kevin's a redneck."

Rachel started to say something, and I shook my head. "Ask him. He grew up in the mountains of Kentucky."

"It's pretty, I bet," she argued, as I pulled away from the curb.

"Very. But boring as hell."

"Like Cutchogue is a booming metropolis? The most exciting thing we did growing up was going out on the boat and fishing. And my brothers would torture me with the worms."

Nick laughed at that, "Oh, we fish, too. Not much else to do in Marathon. Well, there's this bar down the road that I go to. They let me sit in with the band and play drums."

"That's cool! Can we do that when we're there?"

He looked over at me as he drove, "Sure. They'll love you! But they'll probably make you sing and stuff."

"That could be cool. Do they do covers? Oh! Think they know Bon Jovi? When we did covers all the time, I did a mean 'Bed of Roses.'"

"Do fish swim, Rache? Every bar band in the US knows Bon Jovi, Led Zeppelin, The Stones and The Beatles."

"And one day, Sudden Silence!" I laughed, picturing some bar band trying to cover one of our songs. Would it be cool or would I have to kill someone for defiling my precious songs? I'd probably end up hating it.

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