T Novan - Exposure Season 4

"And I thought it would be fun to shock my brothers."

That’s more like her.

Kendra joins us at that moment, and kisses my cheek, then leans up to do the same to Harper. She looks stunning, as usual, wearing a blue silk dress that matches the shade of her eyes. "You two have outdone yourselves," she announces. "I’m sure BCH productions will do wonderfully." She carefully pronounces it ‘bitch’ and smiles at the joke.

"Thanks," I say, sincerely. "Your opinion means a great deal to me." It does, too. Kendra is one of the best in our profession. "We will want to steal you away soon."

"That’ll make Langston happy," Harper mutters.

Kendra laughs. "Can anything do that?"

"Other than an exclusive?" Harper asks rhetorically. "Nope. So I see no need to try to shield him from the hard knocks in life."

"‘It’s a hard knock life, for us!’" Brian sings, overhearing her last comment. "‘Stead of treated, we get tricked.’" He cracks up at that, doubling over with laughter.

I can only shake my head and sigh.

Kendra rolls her eyes and pats his back. "We’ve missed you around the office, Brian. I hope they’re still treating you right."

"Oh, sure. I get spit up on, pooped on so much it seems just like the network."

We all laugh. It’s an accurate description of television life.

Thank God that’s all over.

Harper comes over to me when the last of our guests has departed and wraps me up in her long arms. "Have fun, chér?"

"Oh, yeah. It went great. I think everyone had a good time, and I’m sure we ended up with good publicity out of it, too."

"I’m sure of it."

I nuzzle between her breasts. "I think your dress is part of the reason why. You look," I struggle to find the right word, "splendid, amazing, stunning, gorgeous." I settle on a few when I can’t find one that will do.

Harper smiles indulgently. "It’s just a dress."

"Oh, no, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s the woman in the dress." I reluctantly step back so I can enjoy the view. Who knows when I’ll be able to again? "You need to wear this more often."

"You don’t like how I normally look?"

I shake my head emphatically. "Not at all. You’re gorgeous no matter what you wear, or don’t wear." I leer and trace the edge of the dress around her cleavage. "It’s simply nice to see you like this once in awhile. But, more than anything, I like you to be comfortable and who you are."

This causes her to smile brightly. "Thanks, chér." She takes my hand and kisses it gently. "Let’s go home, kiss our children goodnight, and make love all night long."

This causes me to mirror her smile. Ooo, I like that idea a lot. "That’s why I keep you, Stud. You’re the idea man in this operation."

"Why, thanks." She leads me out of our studios, telling our cleaning foreman to be sure to lock up and set the alarm behind them. As we walk to the Mercedes, she leans over and whispers, "I can’t wait to get out of these heels."

Episode Thirteen: The Last Dance

Forty years.

Forty years. Five kids.

Forty years. Five kids. Five spouses of kids.

Forty years. Five kids. Five spouses of kids. Sixteen grandkids.

I stand at the top of the second floor landing and look at the photographic journal of our family. There’s Gerrard’s baby picture. I swear he has the same slicked back hair that he had then.

My fingers drift over my smiling face, my arms thrown around Robie and Luc. We’re standing on the back porch, covered in mud, teeth and eyes really our only identifiable features. We had gone fishing with Papa that day, and spent more time in the mud than crawfish ever do. God, that was a good day.

Jean was slim in his wedding picture. Years of Elaine’s good cooking have plumped him up. Funny, five kids have kept her slim. Their latest family portrait is gorgeous, their kids spilling all over them in their backyard. It’s a sweet photograph.

I see an old photo of Kate, when she was in her late teens and dating Gerrard. She’s been in our family so long, it seems like she’s always been here. I was only nine when she married him. She’s my older sister, and her marriage with Gerrard has been a model for me since I was a kid. I hope to be as successful at it as they are.

Rachel and Lucien’s wedding photo always makes me laugh. She smeared as much cake as she possibly could over his face, and we caught the moment on film. Poor Luc looks so shocked, and her head is thrown back in glee. A photo a little further down the wall shows the same mirth in her eyes and she holds Jake and Stevie for the first time.

Mama protested, but the picture of Robie and Rene smoking cigars and looking like a gangster and his moll are displayed. That was a fun night. It was my twenty-first birthday and we went out to enjoy our seven deadly sins: pride, sloth, gluttony, alcohol, nicotine, dirty dancing and lust. So a few overlapped, we didn’t care. It was a great night.

There’s a great photo of Kels and I on the porch swing, snuggling and talking softly. We didn’t even realize the photo had been taken until it appeared on the wall. I have a lot of fond memories of that swing.

Of course, our family portrait is on the wall. I stand there smiling at it, loving my life. Are there things I’d like to change? Sure, but I suspect that’s true for everyone. Overall, I am loved, by so many, and get to love so many. I am blessed.

I feel slender arms wrap around my waist and a warm, soft body cuddle up behind me. I lay my hands on top of Kels’ and squeeze them.

"What are you looking at?"

"My family."

"Good looking crew, too." She kisses my shoulder blade and slides around in front of me. "Which brother is that?" She points to Robie as a toddler, his hair pointing in every direction uncontrollably.

"Can’t you guess? Robie, of course. We’ve only been able to get his hair to lay down flat for the last couple years." I chuckle and bend down to kiss my girl. "You smell good." I sniff her neck like a puppy does, moving up and around her ear, sniffing it too.

Kels laughs and struggles against me playfully. "Harper! That tickles!"

I, of course, continue, until I sniff around her throat, under her chin and up to her lips. Once I arrive there, I find better ways to spend my time. After a few heated moments, I pull back. "Did that tickle?"

Kels reaches up and removes a smudge of her lipstick from my lips. "Nah, I’m used to you by now."

"Good," I smile. I pull back and look at my girl. Wowza. She’s wearing a dress so deep green it’s almost black. It’s only when the light hits it just right that you can see the color in it. A long green, cream and burgundy patterned scarf winds its way around her neck and trails down her back. Her hair is beautifully arranged, framing her features softly. "You look gorgeous, baby."

"You’re not bad yourself."

I smile. I had this evening suit custom made and am inordinately pleased with it. Finally, something that perfectly fits my long arms and legs. My shirt is a crisp white linen and has French cuffs and black pearl studs for buttons. My girl bought me new cuff links to wear with it — nothing like a two carat diamond set in platinum to make me worry about my sleeves all night. Boy, do I feel snazzy. "Thanks. So where should we hold our fortieth wedding anniversary reception?"

Kels winds her arms around my neck and gently scratches me there. "Hmm … so many places to choose. Maybe that little plantation we stayed at last weekend."

I laugh. "Chér, I don’t think we’ll be allowed back even by then. What about our house?"

She kisses my chin. "Think it’ll fit all our grandkids and nieces and nephews, and your brothers and the Conspiracy?"

I pretend to consider. "Probably not. I guess we’ll have to go to the Pontchartrain too."