Chapter 7 – The Birthday

Mwaaaaaaaaaaah!

The wet, sloppy kiss that landed on Nick Carter's right cheek work him up with a start. Up until that point he had been in the middle of a wonderful dream where he and Jenny had been on a yacht in the middle of the ocean, with the sun beating down on them and a gentle breeze caressing their skin. Reluctantly opening his eyes Nick looked straight into the blue-eyed gaze of his two year old son, Andy.

A huge smile lit up the chubby little face and Andy called out to an, as yet, unseen third person.

"Daddy 'wake. Mommy, Daddy 'wake!"

Through the door came a slim brunette carrying a tray loaded with presents, cards and a small, circular birthday cake with a candy stripe candle in the centre. Nick pushed himself upright and smiled at his two favourite people. Jenny flicked the hidden tray legs down and placed it down on the bed across her husband's legs, leaning forward to kiss him.

"Happy birthday, gorgeous," she whispered against his lips.

"Sing now?" Andy piped up, inserting himself in between his parents.

"Yes, darling," Jenny answered, smiling down at her blond haired, blue eyed son, "Are you ready? One, two……."

"Birfday 'choo. Birfday 'choo. Birfday, birfday. Birfday 'choo." Andy sang, before his mom could finish her sentence.

As Andy's falsetto voice faded into silence, Nick found tears welling up in his eyes before they overflowed to run down his cheeks. He looked up at Jenny and saw that she, too, was crying.

"When did you teach him that?" he managed to ask eventually.

"It's taken me the best part of a month," Jenny admitted, sitting down on the bed and pulling Andy onto her lap, "I can't tell you how many times I've had to stop him singing it to you. Open your presents, darling."

Not needing to be told twice, Nick began opening his parcels and very soon there was a satisfying pile of gifts on the bed next to him. He leant forward to kiss Jenny and Andy saying, "Thanks for all the presents, they're terrific."

"Well, "Jenny spoke as she stood up, "you stay there and open your cards while Andy and I get your breakfast. Then, when you are ready, we'll drop Andy off at Grandma and Grandpa C's and have the rest of the day together."

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Nick Snr. and Elizabeth Carter were standing by their front door as Nick, Jenny and Andy pulled up in their station wagon.  They both smiled proudly as Nick bounded up the steps towards them.

"Happy birthday, Son," Elizabeth said, hugging Nick close to her and planting a kiss on his face

"Hi, Mom. Hi,Pop," he said, "Thanks for having Andy today."

"You know we love having him," she continued, reaching out to take a squealing, squirming Andy from Jenny's arms.

Nick looked at the two people standing in front of him and thought that they truly were the best parents in the world. He had known, almost from before he could understand, that they had 'specially chosen' him and it was those words that he remembered whenever things got bad. As he grew older, Nick had also come to realise that 'specially chosen' meant that he was adopted, but he never felt like that was a bad thing. It was always something that Nick Snr. and Elizabeth celebrated and, consequently, Nick had grown up with a great sense of self worth.  On his fifteenth birthday his parents handed him the letter which Amy had written the day he was born. Nick had read it so many times that he knew it off by heart and it had become so fragile that he had had to place it in a plastic wallet to keep it safe.

Nick Snr. saw the various expressions that flickered across his son's face and he knew exactly what was going through Nick's mind. He had seen that look on Nick's face every birthday for the last nine years. From the moment he had first read the letter Nick had been determined to find both his birth parents. At twenty one he had written to the adoption agency requesting information about his parents as well as signing a Consent for Contact form. For the last three years he had hoped, waited and prayed

for a response, but to no avail. He had learnt to keep things in perspective but, it was always on his birthday that it was the hardest.

Knowing that, if he left Nick to his own devices, he would begin to brood Nick Snr. reached out and took hold of his son by his shoulders.

"Nick," he began, making no pretence at not knowing what his son was thinking, "It'll happen when the time is right. Brooding on it won't make it happen any quicker.

Now go, and have a wonderful day with your wife and leave your son to exhaust his grandparents."

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Nick couldn't get to sleep that night. Jenny lay next to him, flat out and snoring gently. Giving up the unequal struggle, and knowing full well that he wouldn't sleep until he had read the letter, Nick got up and made his way quietly down to his den.  He crossed the room and flicked on the lamp which sat on the corner of his desk. Sitting on the chair he reached down and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a grey folder. Flicking it open he looked at the letter which was keeping him awake. Nick leant back in his chair, put his feet up on the desk and started to read.