I looked up to see Pollyanna crying and I felt my own tears welling up.
“No,” I cried out. “No! I don’t want this. I don’t want any tears. Please don’t do this to me,” I pleaded as my eyes scanned the other watery eyes in the room.
“Riley,” Kevin began but I cut him off.
“I don’t want any tears. Don’t you understand that? There’s nothing to cry about. I’ve done everything and I will always be here so what is the point. My body is dying but I will always be here. I’m not going anywhere. I will always be with all of you, loving you just as strongly as I do at this moment. Most of all, I don’t want the next two weeks wasted in tears when I’m not dead. I’m still very much alive,” I stated.
“She’s right,” A.J. said, standing up and I saw him shove angrily at the tears on his face. “No more tears, but we are going to party like hell for the next two weeks. Anything you want to do, Riley, we are doing.”
I smiled at him and then looked around the room again. Everyone was drying tears they pretended they hadn’t cried and then smiling at me. Howie eased Pollyanna down on the sofa next to me and she smiled at me with watery eyes.
“I like the sound of that. I do have a request actually,” I admitted.
“Anything your heart desires,” Brian said.
“I want to make a recording,” I stated.
“A recording? Of what?” Kevin asked.
“Us,” I answered. “I want to make a recording of all of us singing together for the baby.”
“What song?” Howie asked.
“I Knew I Loved You by Savage Garden,” I said, smiling.
“I think I dreamed you into life,” Polly said, quoting the song.
“Exactly,” I answered, grinning at her. “I love my baby so much even though I’ll never get to meet him. I want him to know that.”
“Well then what are we doing up here. Let’s head down to Nicky boy’s studio,” A.J. said, offering me his hand.
Slowly, I rose to my feet and took his hand. “What are we waiting for?” I echoed.
I knew the stories of time the guys had spent in the studio perfecting a song. Time after time after time spent on a single verse, a single not. I knew that there had been times with the men of Backstreet had spent entire days on a single song in an attempt to perfect it for their fans, for their producers, and for their record companies.
With the seven of us downstairs in Nick’s studio we only had to record the song once. There was a difference in perfecting a song for millions you would never known ad doing it to perfection the first time for a life you treasured and adored before every laying eyes on it.
I was crying tears of joy and happiness when the final note faded and the recorder was turned off.
“Are you okay?” A.J. asked.
“I’ve never been better,” I answered, wiping away my tears as I smiled at him.
I turned to Pollyanna and gently laid a hand over her still flat stomach.
“This song is one of many gifts from your mommy, angel. I’m going to leave you with the sound of my voice, the picture of my smile, and the love of my heart as well as the love of all these other amazing people in Mommy’s life,” I whispered to the life growing within her, my final gift to the people I loved.
“How about we go out to dinner tonight? We’ll take over an entire restaurant and eat like pigs,” Brian suggested, smiling.
“I like the way this man thinks,” I said, kissing his cheek.
We went out to dinner that night and laughed and ate and partied like hell to steal A.J.’s phrase.
The next day Nick carried the paper inside and upstairs where he had left me in bed. As he showered and dressed I went through the paper. One picture and article caught my attention and I was grinning wildly as Nick walked back into the room.
“What is it?” he asked, smiling in response to my smile.
“Come here,” I said, patting the bed.
As he sat down next to me I folded the paper to give him a better view.
“I’m famous,” was all I said as I showed him the picture.
Staring up at Nick was a black and white photograph in the newspaper of him carrying me out of the restaurant. The article beneath said I was a mystery woman that had yet to be identified and that Nick Carter seemed totally and completely enraptured with the woman in his arms. The only information they had on the young lady was that she was carried out by Carter, placed in his car, and that he had been overheard calling her simply “Goldie Locks.”
Finally Nick looked back up at me.
“I guess I’ve been discovered,” I said.
“Sadly, yes,” he answered.
“Oh, Nick. Don’t be like that. Don’t you see? We beat them. They didn’t catch me until it was too late. Now they won’t get the chance to stalk me and hound me and your fans will never be able to say I am a bitch," I grinned. “We win.”
“The only picture they will ever get of you is me sweeping you off you feet,” he said, grinning finally.
“And that’s how I want the world to know us. I want them to know I was the woman you swept off her feet.”
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