She could travel all around the world and back again but nothing was like home. Not a thing in the world compared to St. Louis, or The Lou as it was called. Something about the air was different. Something about the sounds was different. It felt like St. Louis pulled her in its arms and wrapped her in a hug.

Some would say why did she still call St. Louis home when she reached the level of fame that she had. It was quite easy.

They left her alone in the Lou.

They were comfortable with her in the Lou.

They treated her like just a hometown girl. Nitika Foster, not superstar Tika, no last name needed.

Paparazzi did not follow her around taking pictures like maniacs while she was there.

Fans did not go crazy and chase her down the streets.

There were no other celebs vying for attention, trying to be seen in all the upscale places. It was just her.

She was the only star in St. Louis. There was no room for another.

"Home sweet home!"

After flying in the day before her listening party, she stayed at the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Clayton and not at the home she bought for her parents and stayed while she was in town. This was not any home, it was a mansion. Gated community with security, seven bedrooms, eight full bathrooms, a professional-grade kitchen, a ten-seat movie theater, a large swimming pool in the back, her father's man cave/game room in the basement, her mother's high-tech fitness room, and even a small dance studio for her to practice. Around the front was a professionally maintained flower garden, and a water fountain. And the house was surrounded by forest trees in the heart of Clayton, so they were never disturbed.

Now that work was done and she had a break from traveling for a few days, she could spend time with her family and her baby girl.

She was thankful to have parents willing and able to take care of her five-year-old daughter when she had to work. They loved spending time with her and considered it raising another child. They spoiled her rotten. She and her daughter had their own wing in the house she purchased for her parents seven years ago. The home she also lived in until she became pregnant and moved in with that man she thought was the end all be all. That man was the reason she believed all men were scum.

"Mommy!" She heard her favorite person in the whole world calling out to her.

As soon as she saw her little brown face with her hazel eyes and long bouncy curls in two ponytails, dressed in her favorite pink dress, she forgot thoughts of her baby daddy. It was a blessing and a curse that she looked like her father because she carried that child for nine months for her to only come out Franco's twin. At least he was a good-looking guy and Autumn had all the looks. But the one thing her daughter did happen to inherit from her was her talent. At age only five she could sing and dance beyond her years.

"My baby!" She grabbed her daughter in a hug, picked her up, and swung her around.

"I'm not a baby! I'm five!"

"You're my baby." She planted kisses all over her face as she giggled.

Her relationship with Franco may have been a mistake, but not her little girl.

"I missed you."

"I missed you more." She carried her daughter from the foyer into the large living room where she knew her parents would be. They were sitting there relaxed in matching black leather, reclining chairs watching sports on the large built-in the wall television. "Hey, old folks."

She always joked with her parents and their age because they had her when they were pretty old. Her mother was forty-five and her father fifty when she was born with the assistance of in-vitro fertilization, so now they were seventy and seventy-five. They spent years and lots of money to have her. They wanted more children, but time and money didn't allow for more.

That was one of the reasons they were happy she became a young mom. They got to enjoy being a grandparent sooner rather than later. They were at the age they could still enjoy all the things with her.

Even though they were older, they were the most healthy people she knew. When they were working, her father was a physical education teacher, and he took his sports and fitness seriously. Her mother was a teacher as well, as a dance instructor. Again, because of her mother's field, she was always in shape. Before she retired from teaching at sixty-four, she earned her certification as a personal trainer at fifty. Well into her fifties her mother would drag her to the gyms and YMCAs across the city to teach some of her classes.

Both of her parents ate right and exercised more than her every single day. Because they struggled so much to even have her, and she was an only child, they loved that now they were able to help raise her daughter.

"Hey, young girl," her mother retorted back to her. She stood from her chair and grabbed her and Autumn in a hug. "I missed my darling, diva of a daughter."

Her mother was her identical, looking more like her older sister than her elderly mother. Black don't crack, that's how she explained to her mother. Darker skinned than her, all her own hair down her back in two braids like Pocahontas. She was nearly all salt and pepper gray but it looked good on her. They were the same height and the same slim shape. They had the same almond dark brown eyes. Her mother had a few creases on her face around her eyes when she smiled, but no wrinkles.

"Look at my little girl, home where she belongs.  Glad to have you home...for a little while at least."

"Ma, you know I am a woman of the world." She gave Autumn a few more kisses before she placed her back down on the floor. "I sure wish my parents were at the listening party with me last night."

"You know we can't get into that young people's music," her father stated, "Even if it's from my little girl."

She walked over and kissed her father's cheek. He was beginning to look his age, more so than her mother anyway. He had less gray in his hair, but wrinkles and creases on his face. He still was a nice-looking man and she loved him more than anything. It was because of her father and the love he showed to her mother, that she believed in love at all. They were married thirty-five years now, and more in love than ever.

If only she could find a perfect man like her father. They didn't exist.

"Love you Daddy, and you might be right." No way she wanted her father to hear all of the freakiness she sang about sometimes.

"Well, how was it? Did everyone love it?" her mother asked.

"I want to hear you sing!" Autumn said. She only ever let her daughter hear some of her earlier, less freaky songs.

"Oh, you know I slayed!"

"I don't even know what that means, little girl." Her mother sat back in her chair. "Are you hungry? We had lunch a little while ago, I can go make you a sandwich."

"Now you know you need some hired help in here pampering you like the Queen and King that you are." The house was large and needed a maid to come in every day to keep it clean, but when she offered to hire a cook her mother resisted. Her mother enjoyed being in the kitchen and she said cooking was her therapy.

"Well, you want a sandwich or not, little girl?"

"Yes ma'am."

Her mother stood back up. "Don't get used to me waiting on you hand and foot. Let your little minions do that." Then she walked off towards the kitchen.

That was one thing she missed while she was away from home, her parents pampering her. Even though her mother pretended not to like it, that was how she was all of her life. She spoiled her rotten. Her mother was her first dance teacher. She saw something in her and put her into more classes and then vocal classes, and then drove her all around the city to get her into every talent show and competition. She would not be the star she was without her mother, or father for that fact.

She sat on the sofa, pulled her daughter in her lap, held her, and cuddled next to her as she tickled her side. At home, she was just a mother and daughter, not a superstar celebrity. She could tune out all the nonsense of the world.