“I know.”
While I was filming shows and making a name for myself, Nick went to college, fell in love, got married, and moved to Utah so Jessa could be near her family. He has an entire life that doesn’t include me, friends I’ve never met, and half the time I don’t know whether to feel jealous or guilty that I haven’t made an effort to visit them more.
It’s not like I don’t see them; I fly them to as many concerts as they can make, and I put them up in the nicest hotels and send them on fancy dates. They’ve been all over the world with me, but it’s not the same. And I imagine someday soon I’ll get the call that Jessa is pregnant, and their frequent visits to wherever I am will end.
“How long are you staying?” Jessa asks.
“Maybe for the summer? The tour is over, and I’m not due back in the studio until August. Aside from the premiere, I have no other major obligations.”
“What time does your plane land?”
“Three o’clock your time. Bo insisted on coming with me, but once I’m settled, he’ll head back home.”
“Want me to pick you up at the airport?” she offers.
“No need. I’ve already arranged for transportation.”
“Any special requests for the pop princess?” Nick teases. “One-thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets perhaps? Red gummy bears beside your bed every night? Or maybe—”
“How about a hunky man who can help me forget about Todd? Do you have one of those lying around?”
“Oooh! I can help with that,” Jessa shouts.
“No, you can’t,” Nick chides. “You’re not setting my sister up.”
“Why not?” Jessa and I ask at the same time.
“Ugh,” he groans. “This is how it’s going to be when you’re here, isn’t it? The two of you ganging up on me all the time?”
“Pretty much,” I confirm. “I hate to cut our call short, but I need to finish packing and take care of a few things before I leave.”
“Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow. Call me as soon as you land.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll work on that hunky man,” Jessa says, her words turning into a laugh, presumably because Nick tackles her or kisses her, or does something else that’s disgustingly sweet.
“Thanks, Jessa. Love you guys. Bye.”
4
Grayson
“Daddy.” My sweet Emma bug tugs on the bottom of my shirt. “Jack hit me.”
Jack stomps into the room, full of spit and fire. “Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Enough.” I pick Emma up and prop her on my hip.
I came home from work, cleaned the house, threw in a load of laundry, unclogged the toilet because Emma thought it was a good idea to flush one of her toys—and now this. I just want to grab a cold drink and relax without someone yelling, screaming, or crying.
Is that too much to ask for?
“What happened?” I ask, looking at Jack.