AN: Hello everyone... This story is progressing nicely, don't you think? (That was a subtle feedback reminder, in case anyone missed it... LOL) Happy readings! inspiredthoughts@hotmail.com ************ Finding Happiness: Chapter Three **************** He watched her as she pulled on clothes with the efficient ease of a harried mother with a young child. He caught quick glimpses of flesh- her thigh, a peek at her flat stomach, the small of her back- and shifted position, suddenly uncomfortable, as he sat on the bed. She turned to face him as she combed through her hair with her fingers and put it up in a ponytail. “I can’t leave Kevin. I have too many responsibilities here. I have a job- God, Bernie has school. Not all of us have the freedom that international pop stars do. Besides, why do you care what I do with my life? You never have before.” He flinched and she snorted as she noticed. “Oh please Kevin. First off, I don’t need you to transfer some semblance of guilt to me. You’re not responsible for me, thank goodness, and I know you too well. Your guilt never lasts. Go play a game of golf and just, just forget about me and Belinda, and go live your perfect glittering life.” He swallowed his annoyance, barely, angry that she had gotten to him so easily, and angry that she knew him so well. Kevin didn’t let people in often, but it’s hard to keep out a woman who had grown up by his side. He clenched his hands into fists. “First off, my life is NOT perfect, no matter how much it glitters.” Bernadette snorted with the perfect mixture of disdain and skepticism that drove him mad, and he continued with gritted teeth, “Furthermore, don’t worry about the money. You never let me dote on Belinda. I’ll fly you guys out and take care of you both for a few weeks. It’s no big deal.” She glared at him, suddenly furious, and he realized just how little he really, REALLY, knew Bernadette, for all that she knew him far too well. He never knew what was going on in that stubborn head of hers. “I don’t need your charity…” she replied, tight-lipped. Ahh… Kevin wanted to smile but refrained, knowing enough to know that nothing would make her dig her heels in faster than condescension. Bernie always had been the independent one. So he faced her squarely, soberly, as he replied, “Yes, Bernadette, you do. Why can’t you take a vacation? Take some time off work, talk to Belinda’s school.” He continued softer, “I remember every family vacation you DIDN’T get to take when your Dad was out of work at the factory. I remember how you used to tag along home with me after I’d get back from somewhere. You’d sit at the kitchen table with Mother and go through the pictures.” Kevin paused and smiled. “Your whole face would light up when you saw someplace you’d never been.” He looked at her and was surprised, though he shouldn’t have been, at the naked longing on her pained features. “I remember how you wanted to see the world.” “I… Kevin, I can’t…” she whispered, faltering, despite herself. “And what about Belinda?” he demanded, going in for the kill. “Everyone knows how happy she is when Brian sends her some souvenir from somewhere. What’s her favorite?” Bernie swallowed. “The Statue of Liberty figurine. He sent it to her one her fifth birthday and she carries it around with her like a security blanket.” “Wouldn’t you like Belinda to see the Statue of Liberty?” She stared at him, stricken, and he stood in response to her pain. “Bernie?” She flinched from the gentle, half hesitant touch at her elbow. “Oh Kevin, don’t… Don’t care, just leave.” He very slowly hugged her, marveling at how easy it was, and how much she seemed to need it, that touch, that comfort from another human being. What he was insisting on wouldn’t be easy on anyone- Bernadette and Belinda had always been the family skeleton that the Backstreet Boys, as a whole, tended to ignore- but it frightened him how fragile she had grown over the years of emotional neglect. It frightened him that the hoyden from his childhood might not always be there to mock him in ways that no one else had ever dared. He had always loved to hate Bernadette. “Just say ‘yes’ and I’ll take care of everything, anything. You can call me a hundred times a day with petty questions and details and I’ll even try to be reasonable and patient, traits we both know don’t come in abundance in the Richardson line.” She snorted. “Promise?” she finally asked mulishly. “Promise.” “I hate you.” Kevin laughed and ruffled her upswept hair as she tried to swat his hands away. “You’ll come?” She swallowed. “Only for two weeks.” “Three.” “Kevin…” “Three and I’ll throw in free tickets for Paris, redeemable whenever you want them for, even years from now.” Bernadette’s eyes flared with need again, a want, a naked longing that defied all words, all description. Kevin was one of the few people who knew that she had taught herself French, when she was ten. Was one of the few who knew that she was still fluent, and that she cursed in it when she was truly enraged, a state she often was in around him. Bernie would give anything to visit France, Paris. “Three,” came the soft, reluctant agreement. Kevin grinned in victory. ************************************************************************ Bernadette Stevens swallowed as she slowly zipped up the ragged suit case that she had borrowed from her father. He had his good suit case with him since he was on the road again so she and Belinda made do- they usually did. She could hear her daughter chattering with excitement to herself as she gaily packed in her own room. Bernie would have to go in tonight and reorganize the duffel bag so that it wasn’t overflowing, perhaps take out some of Belinda’s more fanciful traveling choices. No matter how much her daughter loved the pink tutu that she had worn in the preschool pageant, it simply wasn’t practical for daily wear. She looked up and smiled bravely as her mother stepped into the room. “Hi Mama, do you need help picking up downstairs? I know Belinda left a mess…” Her mother shook her head and sat carefully on the edge of the bed. Bernadette didn’t much resemble Phyllis Stevens who had fine features and sandy blonde hair, though it was streaked with more gray now. Phyllis always had a dignified air about her, despite the less than perfect life she had led. Perhaps the sharp tongue and stubborn mind were results of some of that difficulty. Bernadette had her father’s strong features. They were feminine on her, but the handsomeness of her father was translated into character on her face. She had never been called a beauty, and she had inherited her father’s darker coloring. “No, it didn’t take me long at all to pick it up.” Disapproval crept into the mild tone and Bernie flinched inwardly. Her mother loved her grandchild fiercely, but she had very definite opinions on how Bernadette should discipline Belinda, opinions that Bernadette just as definitely ignored. “I wanted to talk to you about this little trip of yours though…” “Yes Mama?” Bernie asked politely as she mechanically straightened the creases out of her bedspread. “Well, first off the only reason I’m allowing you to go scampering off as if you didn’t have a care in the world is that you’ll be under Kevin’s supervision…” Bernadette swallowed her anger and resisted the urge to point out that at, twenty-seven, the last thing she needed to do was ask her mother’s permission for anything. “But, I expect you to behave well. Set a good example for you daughter, and, and don’t get pregnant…” The ‘again’ was implicit. “I don’t want to see you staring out at me from any of those magazine tabloids and, just, just be careful.” Bernadette smiled tightly in response to her mother’s crudely stated concern and carefully hugged her. “We’ll both be good, and safe,” she said, tactfully avoiding any rebuttals that would lead to argument. She loved her mother dearly- she just couldn’t handle her all of the time.