Saturday, September 17, 2022

As another song from Harry's concert setlist fades, Nataley decides to finally confess to herself that she can't focus on the project. Harry had proposed. The implications. The considerations. The enormous weight.

"Mama! Mama!" Noah rushes into the house as the next song is blasting, and Nataley reaches for her phone to lower the volume. "We got some veg and stuff for the pizzas, and these two girls took pictures with Papa, and I wanna hear what you told my father. Oh, is this Harry's new music? I like it."

She can't stop the smile that drifts across her face. Always a bundle of energy and excitement. That's her son. Making eye contact with Harry as he enters carrying two of her reusable shopping bags, she seeks an answer to the questions raised by Noah's narrative rush.

"One I've seen before, but I think the other is new. Might have just been by chance. I was careful driving back."

The fact that he knows precisely what she is thinking is more evidence towards agreeing to marry him. But the fact that two strangers had approached him while he was with her son is a mark in the negative column. It's a wash, so she clears the mental slate in her head.

"Did you get the prosciutto?" she wonders, turning off the music as she rises.

"Don't, Mama! I wanna hear Papa sing! I've never heard these songs before."

"You'll get to hear them when the album is out, Little Man," Harry laughs, removing items from the bags. "Let's get busy on our pizzas."

Racing to the counter, Noah reaches for the prepared dough. "Woah!" Nataley and Harry call out simultaneously before glancing at each other, frozen. "Hands!" Harry continues as they silently laugh at each other.

Noah moves to the sink, turning the water on too high as he sticks his hands under the faucet. Quickly, Nataley ratchets it down to a trickle of sorts. "Let's not waste water."

"Okay, Mama." Agreeable, Noah fills his hands with soap and massages it into his skin as Harry uses a hip to scoot the boy to the side, dampening his own fingers under the water. "Hey, Papa! Stop!" Giggles escape him.

On his other side, Nataley boxes Noah between her hip and Harry's hip as she also washes up.

"Mama!" His laughter rises to new heights. "Papa! You're crushing me!"

"What are you talking about?" Nat teases as she steps closer to him on one side just as Harry does the same on the other side.

"Yeah. We're just washing our hands."

Together, they squeeze Noah until he steps backwards so that Nat and Harry are side by side as they rinse their joint hands. Sharing a towel, they dry off before Nataley turns around to her son. "Noah!" She jokingly admonishes, "You have to rinse your hands! You can't make pizza with suds on your fingers."

"She's right, mate," Harry scolds. "You're supposed to rinse off the soap so we don't add another flavor to the pizza."

Noah's laughter rings out in the kitchen as he turns on the water again to finish the task.

"Oh, good," Nat comments as the child dries his hands. "Let me cut apart the dough." With a cutter she's found in one of the drawers, Nataley divides the raw pizza dough into three parts. "Okay. Everyone is on their own with shaping their pizza." With that, she begins pulling at the dough and attempting to stretch it on the counter.

"We need flour, Mama!" Noah chuckles.

From the pantry, Harry withdraws a container of flour before sprinkling it around the counter, and the three begin to create their individual pizzas.

"Please can we listen to Papa's new music?" The boy begs.

Nataley grimaces. "Noah, it's not public yet. You can wait."

"But I'm not public either, Mama! Please, Papa? I won't tell anyone."

Watching as Harry tries to swallow his nervous facial expression, Nat wants to rescue him and give her child a solid "no", but it's not her call.

"N, it's not that I don't trust you..."

"Then I can hear it? Mama already did."

"What if you're out there humming it and someone asks what song it is?"

"Yeah, okay." The way his voice drops in volume makes it clear to Nat that her son is deeply disappointed, but also not planning to fight Harry's decision.

"I'll tell you what, mate. We're going to release the first single soon. How about I let you listen to that one?"

"REALLY?" Noah's eyes widen. In his excitement, he claps his hands together, sending flour flying in the room.

Coughing, Harry waves his hands in front of his face to clear away the white air. "Yes, because I trust you to keep it quiet."

"Thanks, Papa."

Sharply, Nat glances at her son. The respectful and reverent tone lets her know clearly that her child has grown up in more ways than his age. Harry must notice it too, as he nods once before cleaning his hands and playing the song.

Silence descends as all three of them work the dough into rustic circles as the song plays. Halfway through the song, Nataley notices that Noah has stopped kneading his dough as he stands still with the raw pizza under his unmoving knuckles. When the song finishes, Noah, tears in his eyes, twists to Harry.

"Is that about me, Papa?"

Nataley has to duck her head to surreptitiously wipe her eyes on her sleeve using her shoulder.

"Who else would it be about?" Harry asks nonchalantly, placing his pizza dough on the stone that had been heating in the oven since before the boys left for the store.

"Can I hear it again? Please? Or do I have to wait?" His sniffles indicate his willingness to wait if he must, but his bouncing body makes it clear that he desperately wants it played now.

Again, Harry only nods before closing the oven and setting a timer. "I don't want you to get sick of it though."

Noah's tears stream down his cheeks as he valiantly attempts to act like he's not affected. When the song starts again, Noah seems unable to wait any longer, and he launches himself at Harry, wrapping his dough and flour-dusted hands around his chosen father's waist, burying his head in Harry's chest as the child sobs deeply. "I could never get tired of hearing it, Papa. I love it so much. What's it called?"

Harry makes eye contact with Nataley who cleans her hands now that her dough is shaped.

"'You Chose Me'," Harry whispers.

"Best love song ever," Nataley smiles. "Now finish your pizza crust while I get my dance on with H."

As the music continues, Harry holds out his arms so that Nataley can grasp his hands, and together they jam to the upbeat music. When the song ends this time, it rolls into the next one, and Nataley quirks her head, watching Harry carefully. But he doesn't change the music. Instead, he bops around Noah, and it appears to Nat that maybe Harry is relieved at Noah's reaction.

Harry's timer goes off, and he removes his parbaked crust before carefully laying Noah's dough in its place. "Help me fix my pizza, mate," he urges, and together he and Noah place a variety of vegetables on the crust.

"I'm gonna make a face with mine," Noah brags. As they wait for Noah's crust to cook, he turns to Nataley. "What happened with my father? What did you have to give him to get me all the time?"

Nataley wraps her hands around her son's face. "I gave him the moon and the stars."

"I'm serious, Mama," Noah scoffs.

"Actually, and quite honestly, Noah, I didn't give your father anything at all. We had a conversation with some lawyers, and we agreed that you should live with me all the time."

"It couldn't have been that easy," her son challenges.

"It wasn't. The conversation was hard for both your father and me, but in the end, he signed the papers, and that's all that matters."

"Aren't you worried that he'll tell the press?"

"Nope. There's a non-disclosure agreement in the contract."

Harry's surprise registers with his eyebrows, and Nataley merely smiles at him. Did he think she hadn't considered the possibility of needing an NDA?

"What does that mean?" Noah asks.

"That if he talks about the contract, then he owes us a lot of money."

"Oh. Then he definitely won't talk." Damn, the kid knew way more about his father than Nataley suspected. "Does that mean you can't talk about it either?"

"Yep. It goes both ways, my son. The important thing is that it's a done deal for now, and when you're 14 years old, you can change the agreement in any way you want."

"For real? Like I could say that I didn't want to visit him at all?"

"You could," Nat hedges. "But, Noah...while I know you love H as your papa, you still have a father, and cutting him out of your life might not be the best thing."

"Yeah," Noah sighs, "but just knowing I can makes me feel... free."

Shit. The punch to her solar plexus leaves Nataley bent over at the waist as Harry rubs her back.

"Let's finish these pizzas and get some rehearsal time in, shall we? Sarah and Mitch are coming over tomorrow for that jam session."

"YAY!" Noah fist bumps Harry, and Nataley thinks she might be able to breathe again.

==========

"Time for bed, Little Man," Harry states as Noah's eyes droop and his fingers fail to stay on the chords he's practicing.

"But Papa," he whines, rubbing at his eyes, "I'm not good enough yet to play with you and Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah."

"You know exactly as much as you need," Harry insists. "Now go take a shower and get into jammies. Your mama and I will come tuck you in."

His feet dragging, Noah proceeds to his bathroom where they hear the water running as Noah follows directions.

"He's a great kid." Putting away his guitar and tuner, Harry avoids Nat's eyes.

"He loves you," she responds, attempting to put all of her conviction into the words so that he will know she's absolutely serious.

"I love him so much, Nat. In fact..." He swallows the words he'd been meaning to say, and Nataley finds that she needs to hear them in the same way that she needs air to breathe.

"What?" she pounces, rising as she hears the water in the shower diminish as it swirls down the drain in the other room.

"Nothing. You did an amazing job raising him."

Nat steps to Harry, taking both hands in hers as she memorizes the planes of his face. His eyes skitter away from hers, and she patiently waits until he focuses on her. "We. We did a good job raising him. You've been his parent too, you know. Since he was four at least. Now please tell me what you were going to say before."

Taking in her eyebrows, he shifts his attention across her face, searching for something. Maybe some trust that was broken when she didn't accept his proposal immediately? His tongue darts out, and she sees his lips part as though he plans to share.

"I'm ready for bed," a sleepy 11-year-old calls, and the moment disappears.

Harry takes her hand, pulling her behind him to the bedroom that Noah has claimed. The floor is littered with clothes -- both clean and dirty, and her son is already under the covers, only his head appearing over the top.

Nataley approaches her son, pulling the covers more tightly under his chin and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Love you," she whispers.

"Love you, Mama," his sleepy voice is barely audible, and he yawns.

On the opposite side of the bed, Harry leans over, pressing his lips multiple times to Noah's temples before also kissing the stuffed animal wrapped in Noah's arms. Noah pats Harry's face, "Love you, Papa" before promptly falling asleep, his soft eyelashes landing on his cheeks.

Picking up some of the clothes scattered everywhere, Nataley folds a few items and carefully places them on top of the dresser. When Harry stands at the door to Noah's bedroom, she gathers her courage.

Time to talk.

"Nightcap?" she asks, moving to the kitchen and opening the back door. "Come on, Chuck. Go take care of your business." The cavachon stalks to the door, mournfully looking over his shoulder at Nat and Harry. "Go!" Nat shoos, but the dog doesn't move.

"I'll go out with him," Harry chuckles. "Don't know why he's suddenly afraid of the dark." Hand on the door, he twists towards Nataley. "A nightcap would be fab." Escaping into the night, Harry is followed closely by the puppy who suddenly is brave as he races ahead of H, lifting his leg on multiple plants to ensure that none are left unchristened.

From Gabe's liquor cabinet, she withdraws a bottle of Casamigos before searching for a bourbon. Finding a bottle of Irish whiskey, she decides that's good enough. Filling two glasses halfway with ice, she pours a healthy amount of liquor in each. Nat returns the two bottles to their appropriate spots, pivoting to find Harry holding both glasses and gesturing with an inquiry.

"Bedroom, patio, or living room?"

Tough call. "It's not a bedroom kind of chat, I don't think." Leading the way into the living room, she flips the switch on the fireplace before planting herself in one corner of the sofa. Harry hands her the glass of whiskey, settling with his leg tucked under him as he observes her.

"It's not a no," she begins, and he nods. "It's a 'not yet'. I need to know we can get past this stuff before I say yes."

"My love," he begins after sipping at his drink, "there's always going to be something to get in our way if we let it."

She feels the pressure of unshed tears behind her eyes at his words, and she swallows a hefty bit of whiskey, swirling it on her tongue.

"We've grown, haven't we?" His voice is less pleading, conveying a greater sense of accomplishment and wonder. "From where we were in 2019? If I learned anything during the pandemic, it's that I don't want to live without you and Noah in my life. Even during tour, you were on my mind constantly."

Not speaking, Nataley surveys him, listening.

"I was an ass at times, love. I know this."

"We both were." Her dulcet tones add to the conversation, making him jump at hearing her. "I just..." A sigh makes her bangs drift upwards, and she reaches out to pet Chuck who seems to understand he's not allowed on the furniture in this house. "Your life -- it's a lot. Overwhelming."

"It's not real, Nat." Although he hasn't moved an inch, she senses that his body has tensed. Not that his pose would indicate as such. "My celebrity is an illusion."

"An illusion that entices people to want to harm you and me and Noah."

Closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath, his chin moving away from her until he releases the pent-up air, relaxing somewhat. "True, and I've been thinking about how to make you feel safer." When she cradles her drink in her hands and gives him an expectant look, he continues. "For starters, you've got Cynthia training you and Noah. That's going to provide feelings of efficacy. You'll get some self-defense, which I've also worked on lately. Prevention is 99% of the program."

"Yes. I'm beginning to see that. Cindy's going to be a big help for my mental health, I think." She's starting to warm up to the idea more after their day at the pier. Seeing the professionals at work had given her insight into the process.

"Agreed. And...I've been thinking about the other fight we've had which is money."

Nat feels her guard rising, and she sips her drink to try to contain her panic.