mortals.
"We'll have to
think about what we're going to eat for dinner soon," I said.
"Rick?"
I turned to see
the two wonderful boys in my life snoring away next to me. Well,
maybe one boy. I think it was fair to say that Rick had finally
grown up. I could no longer call him my manchild, my adult
teenager. Now, he was just an adult. He deserved that at the very
least.
I closed my
eyes for a moment and thought back to when it all began, that
fateful day I photographed Rick Borrell, the lead singer of
Beautiful Losers. Now, he was my husband and we had a gorgeous son
together. We also had Luke, his big brother and very much a part of
our lives, who we visited every few weeks and whenever else we
could. And, just to top it all off, I ran a hand over my rapidly
expanding belly. The bump inside would provide the next stage in
our story. Would it be a boy? Maybe a girl this time? One of each –
that would be nice. But it didn't matter. We had chosen not to
know, to have a wonderful surprise just like Evan had been. In a
few more months, we would find out what our latest little miracle
was.
They say a
leopard can't change its spots, that a zebra can't change its
stripes. Maybe a rock star can change, though. He'll never stop
being who he is, a naturally gifted semi-bad boy. It's in his DNA,
after all. Plus, it was always Rick's choice to change. I never
would have made him. I would have loved him either way.
But sometimes
change is good. Change can bring stability and peace and a brighter
future. Isn't that what we all want? Nevertheless, it was always
nice to keep having those little surprises too. It sounds so corny,
but dreams do come true. That's not to say there aren't bumps and
obstacles along the way. But I had learned that when you find "the
one", when you fall in love so hard and so deep with someone who is
worth overcoming any obstacle and fighting for, the hardships
aren't so bad. They're just little potholes on the road of life.
Ride over them, jack the car up, change the wheel. Move on.
I kissed Rick
and Evan on their foreheads and glanced back at them snuggled up on
the hotel sofa. I switched off the TV and turned the radio on
quietly. There was an artist on called Ellie Goulding, singing a
song that couldn't have been more apt - "Anything Can Happen".
Damn right it
can. And, boy, am I glad it did.
THE END
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