A Niley Story: Year 3000

Chapter 1

Miley's POV:

A month past and it was now June.

Today was our anniversary.  The anniversary of when Nick and I met each other nearly 20 years ago (18 years ago if you like being exact) already and got married 4 years ago.  Everyone celebrated, congratulating us on the anniversary and making it a new milestone, because in Hollywood, the relationships normally don't last that long - my mom and dad have tried to get divorced a couple of times, but gave up after not appearing at court and fixing their marriage that's been lasting about thirty years at this point.

However, Nick and I could not celebrate this one like we always managed every year so far, because I was sick.  No, not pregnancy - I went through three of those (in a row) to know.  It was rather the flu that was going around our area (we lived just outside the city of LA in California).  You might ask why I'm writing this story while I'm lying in bed (Nick had me lie in the bed, but I have to move soon so he can wash the sheets), but I hate being bored.  Being sick is not fun.  I even tried reading a magazine, doing a puzzle, reading a book.  Zilch.  Then I watched some TV and there was finally some contentent in that.

Nick carries in some soup on a tray, bringing our three biological children (I adopted his daughter from a previous relationship just last month, and we'll get to her story later, but together, we have Adam Paul Jonas, who just turned three years old last month and is his father's mini me with my personality, Destiny Hope Jonas, who's turning two years old next month (I gave her my original birth name) and is Mommy's mini me with a mixture of Mommy's and Daddy's personalities, and Nicholas Jerry Jonas Jr., aka Nick Jr. or, as we prefer to call him, Nicky, who's six months old, and is a perfect blend of Mommy and Daddy.  Nick places the tray on top of me.  "Here you go.  Now how's my Smiley?"

"Better.  Being sick is not fun."

"I know.  You'll get better."  He winks in his attempt to reassure me.  "Besides, the flu always goes away after a few days anyways."

"I know."

"Mommy!" Adam and Destiny interrupt us and try to climb up on the bed.

Nick tries to stop them, but Adam has my energy and is already almost there.  "Mommy's sick, guys.  Leave her alone."  He then sculps up our oldest and his sister and takes them off.

Nicky remains crawling on the floor, minding his own business.

"You need to go eat and make yourself better, Mrs. Jonas.  We'll go and let yourself be.  Relax."  He had some work today - it was an interview for Camp Rock 3, the third installment of the Disney franchise that helped launch him, my brothers-in-law Kevin and Joe, and our good friend Demi Lovato (Joe's on-off - and by that, I mean on-screen and off-screen, and on-again and off-again, and currently, they're on-again - girlfriend) and was airing on Freeform sometime soon, but he also has his duties as a husband and father of four.  One of the things I love the most about him is he's so caring - I even call him Prince Charming.  He scoops up our children and leaves the room.

Ok, now I can tell you about the daughter.  Nick had dated "Miss Universe" Olivia Culpo for 2 years from 2013-2015.  The daughter was conceived the night of the breakup, and was unknown to Nick until Olivia had dropped her off at our house in January with no reason, giving us full custody of her.  Her name is Elizabeth Jane Jonas, but she prefers to be called Lizzie by friends and family.  One day, she was really missing her mother and I had her come visit.  Olivia finally gave us a reason - she was seriously ill with cancer and wanted Nick to know his own daughter.  She passed away afterwards, and Lizzie's nightmares, which she had often, had increased due to the grief.  We take her to a psychologist weekly, who has made tremendous progress with her.  Now Lizzie barely has any nightmares.  She also has made really good bonds with everyone, especially me.  We are more like sisters and best friends rather than the usual mother-daughter, or, as in our case, stepmother-stepdaughter relationship.  She already has half of my closet in her wardrobe (she's allowed to take certain clothes, but she has to ask me first).  On Mother's Day, I followed my parents in their example by adopting her on Mother's Day.