Page 92 of The Burdens We Share
He shoots me the iciest glare. “Over my dead fucking body. Iwill have every boy who ever looks at my daughter abducted and hauled off in a white van never to be seen or heard from again.”
The room explodes in laughter, but Harvey is most certainly not laughing. Instead, he’s rubbing a spot on his chest, and a moment later, the attention shifts to the door closing again.
I hear little giggles coming closer and smile in anticipation. Selene enters with her husband, Dylan, and her three little girls. Justine, whose name quite literally means justice, comes into view first and quickly makes work of saying hello to everyone so she can go join the other kiddos. She’s the little stinker Selene was pregnant with eight years ago and her daughter has easily taken up the role of mediator and sometimes lawyer when it comes to defending Danica’s crimes or fixing any disputes Carrie and Danica have over toys or whatever else it is kids fight over. Next comes Veda who is named after wisdom and knowledge and then Arabella who is named after the first-ever female lawyer. Selene clearly stuck to a theme with her baby names. All three little girls have the same curly brunette coils as Selene with her deep brown eyes and their father’s tan skin. They’re adorable.
“Where’s everyone?” Veda asks.
I tilt my head at the six-year-old, “Upstairs playing, but can you do me the biggest favor and tell them all to come down? We’re gonna eat dinner.”
Veda rushes upstairs with her big sister and little sister in tow. Selene sighs, “Remind me why I wanted three? You would think I’d learn the first two times how horrible the toddler stage is.”
Arabella is only three and she’s the cutest, but she definitely keeps Selene busy. I boast, “I am not experiencing any of that with Houston.”
A stampede enters the room moments later and all eight of the kids come into view, taking their seats at the kid’s side of the table. Dallas sits at the head and I sit beside him. A small taplands on my arm and I look down to find our oldest son, Austin, who’s five. “Hey, baby. You okay?” I ask him.
He nods at me, his thick brown hair in his hazel brown eyes that resemble his father’s so much. He doesn’t say anything and just looks anxious. Dallas leans closer to us, “What’s going on?”
I look down at our son, “I don’t know. What is it?” I ask him gently.
Austin plays with his fingers before he steps on his toes and whispers in my ear, “I’m gonna ask Veda to marry me.”
I choke on my own saliva and Dallas bursts out in laughter, having heard the whole thing. Our son turns and looks at his father who’s hysterical and I shoot him a warning look. Dallas quickly stops laughing before he leans down to scoop up our firstborn. “You’re a little too young for that right now. Give it twenty years.”
“Twenty? That’s like forever!” Austin protests.
A tugging of my shirt draws my attention to Houston, our little three-year-old who looks nearly identical to his big brother. “Mommy,” he pulls my shirt.
“Yes, my love?” I ask him, scotting my chair back to sweep him off the ground and squeeze him in a hug.
He hugs me back, “Can I have more apple juice?”
“Sure. Go get your cup, baby.” He quickly slips off my lap and back to his seat to grab his cup as Dallas ushers Austin back to his and instructs him to not propose to anyone until he’s twenty-five at the very least to spare his mother from going gray prematurely.
We enjoy the meal I most certainly did not cook and the room is so chaotic and loud, so us. We’re one big ass family and we wouldn’t have it any other way. It took us a lot to get here, from stalkers to sex tapes, to addictions, to really shitty modeling agents, but here we are.
Oh, and speaking of Nara, Selene ruined her career so badlythat the woman can never show her face in LA again. Last I heard, she moved to Calabasas and married a super old and crusty-looking director. Sounds about right and like karma worked her magic.
I bring a bite of chicken to my mouth and make eye contact with Dallas who’s smiling at me warmly, with pride in his eyes. It took me a long time and a lot of therapy to get over my issues with food, but I managed to do it with the help of my husband. Don’t get me wrong, I still hear that little voice in my head sometimes, but it’s not loud enough to hurt me anymore. I have too much to be happy about now. I have the best husband a girl could ask for, the cutest babies, the bestest of friends, a successful career as a Muse Award and Screen Award winner, and not to mention, I’m a model. And how could I forget that I am eight years stalker free? What more could I possibly want?
The girls and I still make music. We actually just finished another collab album with Thunderstrike and I know without a doubt we’re going to win another Muse for it. Our movie was such a success that we were offered a reality show, but we all declined because our life is ours. It’s too precious to share the private moments with the world. These moments with our kids are special. They won’t be little forever and we want to revel in every minute, every second.
We finish our meal and it’s the guys’ turn to clean the table since the girls did it at Aria and Sly’s last Sunday. The kids run back upstairs to play and Aria, Brody, Selene, and I find our way onto the patio where the moonlight glows down on us and reflects off the steady pool water. We’re seated on the wicker furniture, the fire pit in front of us. Aria roasts a marshmallow and we all watch her in silence as she chars it into oblivion.
I take a long look at my best friends. Selene looks just as she did eight years ago, just destined to always look perfect. Brody still has her iconic black streaks in her hair and Aria still has herblues, while I still rock my pink ombre. Our faces look the same, but we somehow look more mature. We’re entering our thirties, and thank God we’re wrinkle-free for now, but we look…grown up. It’s a bittersweet sight to see. I reach for my glass of red wine and swirl it as Aria stuffs the marshmallow in her mouth, “Why does this feel like the end of something?” I ask them.
Selene, without missing a beat, pours herself another glass of wine. “Because for once, no one’s being stalked, drugged, and recorded without consent, or rescued from a building after a psycho stalker kidnapped them. Thatdoesfeel like an ending.”
Brody laughs as she pops a grape in her mouth and takes a sip of her water, her feet kicked up on the edge of the fire pit. “Honestly? I kind of miss the drama. I mean just a little. We were hot messes, but we were fun as hell.”
Aria grins as she puts another marshmallow on her skewer, “Speak for yourself. I’ve had enough leaked footage and near death experiences to last three lifetimes. I’ll take boring and sticky toddler fingers any day.”
Selene raises a brow, “I said it feels like the end. I didn’t say I wanted a sequel.”
I smirk, “It’s not a sequel. It’s a spinoff. Just…a quieter one. Still starring us, just with less blood and chaos.”
Brody speaks in an overly dramatic voice, “Speak for yourself. My kid tried to stab me with a fork this morning over the last Eggo.”
Selene deadpans, “Sounds about right. Danica is literally a small version ofyou.”
