Chapter 150
At two
o’clock on Thursday afternoon, Nick was in a meeting with his manager and the
team of people hired to put together his tour.
They had been in the small conference room for an hour, talking about
plans for the tour.
It was
unrealistic to expect that he would be able to sell out large stadiums with his
solo act, Johnny Wright had informed him matter-of-factly, so he would be
playing smaller venues, intimate theaters and clubs. Nick didn’t really mind that at all. Though it had been cool to perform in huge
arenas with the Backstreet Boys at the peak of their popularity, Nick liked the
more intimate settings, where he could see the fans, and they could see him.
“We’re
aiming to book twenty to twenty-five dates, spread out over a month-and-a-half
or so, so that you’ll have some time off in between cities,” explained Paul,
the tour manager. “If the shows sell
well, and you’re up for a second leg, we can talk about booking more dates
then.”
Nick
nodded. “Sounds fair enough. Hey, just make sure we hit Chicago,
alright? I promised a friend I’d play
Chicago.”
“Don’t
worry; Chi-town’s on the list,” smiled Paul, tapping his notepad. “We’re gonna try to get the House of Blues.”
“I played
there for Now or Never,” Nick recalled. “Cool place.”
“Yeah, it
should be good. If they’re already
booked, though, Chicago’s got a lot of other great venues we’ll look into.”
“Sounds
good.”
“So we’re
planning to start up right after the holidays, second or third of the year, and
go through January and most of February.
The extra days in between shows will give us some wiggle room for
traveling if there’s bad weather. We’re
gonna try to book an opening act or two; Johnny’s talked to Jive about some of
the new talent they’ve signed, and they’ve got a couple in consideration. Solo artists, nothing cheesy. We’re trying to play down the boyband image
and go with a more acoustic, organic feel – you know, all live instrumentation
and vocalists who can actually sing.”
“Perfect,”
Nick said, nodding his agreement as he pictured himself up on stage with a
stool and his guitar, a small band behind him, just an accompanying guitar,
bass, keyboard, and drums. That was all
he needed.
“We were
thinking you could play for about an hour, hour-and-a-half? Do the songs from this album, a couple of the
singles from Now or Never, and a Backstreet medley, for the fans.”
Nick nodded
again, smiling. “ ‘Course.”
“So, that’s
what we were thinking. If you want to
draft an actual set list now, we can do that.
And I’ve got some recordings of possible opening acts, if you’re
interested,” added Paul, brandishing a couple of CDs.
“Yeah,
absolutely.”
They had
worked out the set list and spent the last ten minutes listening to demos on
the CDs Jive had sent. Halfway through a
track by a guy who sounded like a James Blunt copycat, Nick’s phone rang, out
loud.
“Shit,” he
muttered, hurrying to silence it, but it had already distracted everyone from
the music. Fumbling with the phone as he
struggled to get it out of his pocket, Nick couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to
put it on silent before the meeting.
Then again, he wasn’t used to having to remember on his own; usually he
had Kevin or Brian breathing down his neck to shut off the phone well ahead of
time. He wasn’t sure why, because
Howie’s phone went off in meetings way more often than his did, but he was the
youngest and would always be treated like he was still thirteen sometimes. He was just used to it now. So used to it that without the brotherly
nagging, he’d gone and forgot. “Sorry,”
he apologized quickly as he stole a quick glance at the phone underneath the
table, curious to see who was calling before he silenced it.
When he saw
Claire’s name blinking at him from the window on his phone, his stomach performed
a nervous flip-flop. The last time he
had talked to Claire, she had been calling to tell him, tearfully, that she had
decided to go through with the selective reduction. He knew she had been scheduled to have it
yesterday, but he hadn’t wanted to call and bother her. “Just call me when you’re ready,” he’d told
her, figuring she would need some time once it was over before she was ready to
talk about it.
Now that
she was calling, he couldn’t ignore her; he had to hear her voice and make sure
she was okay. As “okay” as a woman who
had just gone through what she had could possibly be, anyway.
“Guys, I
gotta take this call; it’s important,” he said, and before anyone could
protest, he got up and left the room, flipping open the phone as he went. “Hello?” he answered it in the privacy of the
empty hall, letting the conference room door swing shut behind him.
“Hey, Nick,
it’s me.” Her voice lacked its usual
spark, but at least she wasn’t crying.
“Hey,
Claire. Um, how’s it going?” he asked
awkwardly, not sure what else to say.
“Eh, it’s
going. Honestly, it’s been a rough day,”
she confessed with a sigh.
“I can
imagine. How are you… um, how are you
feeling?” He had no idea what the
procedure was even like, though the vision he had of it made him cringe.
“Physically? Fine.
It didn’t hurt; I had some cramping last night, but that was about
it. Emotionally? Awful.
I feel so guilty… I don’t know if
I did the right thing at all, Nick. Even
if it was for a good reason, it seems so wrong. And Jamie’s being a complete dick about it
again. He ran out of the room yesterday,
right in the middle of it! I had a
fucking needle going into my stomach; I couldn’t even move, and he left me!!”
“What?!”
Nick gasped, his sympathy turning to shock and anger as he pictured her impaled
on a huge needle, crying as she watched her husband run away. “Are you fucking kidding me?? How could he do that to you?!”
“Good
question.” Her voice was shaking
now. “He wouldn’t come back until it was
all over. And since then, he’s barely
even been able to look at me. He slept
in the basement last night, and I haven’t talked to him since, except for a few
words when he came in to get dressed for work this morning.”
“Oh my God,
Claire…” Nick was appalled. He had always known Jamie to be an asshole,
but this was a new low. He had expected
even Jamie to treat his wife with compassion, but from what Claire was telling
him, Jamie had no compassion, only coldness.
“Have you talked to anyone about this?”
“My mom,
this morning,” she answered thickly.
“And now you.”
On the phone, he realized. He was pretty sure her mother was still in
Florida; surely, she would have mentioned it if one of her parents had come to
be with her. She had no one in Iowa, no
one but her asshole husband, who was ignoring her when she needed him the
most. Nick had never been married, never
had children, and would never know what it was like to lose a baby that had
been growing inside of him, but he knew how hard it had to be, and he knew that
she and Jamie should be helping each other through this. She definitely should not have had to go
through it alone.
That, he
knew firsthand. It wasn’t the same
situation, but he knew what it was like to lose a part of himself. And though he’d resented their interference
at times, he had always been glad to have the guys and Claire around him in the
aftermath. He would have driven himself
crazy, fallen into a deep depression and perhaps never climbed back out, if he
had had to go through that alone.
“Well, I’m
glad you called,” he murmured, the wheels in his head turning. “You know you can always talk to me. I would never abandon you, Claire.”
“I
know. Why do you think I called?”
He smiled
sadly, and a part of him couldn’t help but think, Now do you see? I love you, more than Jamie does. I would never hurt you the way he has. You should have chosen me. But he knew it was the wrong time to tell
her that. No matter how resentful of
Jamie she was right now, he knew that her husband’s betrayal had to sting, and
saying “I told you so” would only be rubbing salt in her wounds. She was hurting enough as it was; he couldn’t
bear to cause her more pain. It hurt him
enough already just to hear her sound so defeated, as if her spirit had faded
away with the baby. Even the knowledge
that she had finally seen Jamie’s true colors gave him little satisfaction, for
it had come at a heavy price.
Where was his
Claire, the one he’d always known, the girl who always wore bright colors and
smiled just as vibrantly, who used her dark sense of humor to crack jokes even
when the norms dictated that it was not a time for joking, who was not afraid
to be silly in public or speak her mind when something got her riled up, who
always seemed strong when he felt weak, and who only cried when things were
really bad? He could hear no trace of
her in the trembling, tearful voice on the other end of the line. She was trying to be strong; her voice was
tremulous with resistance against her tears, but still he knew they were
there. He could hear them.
She was
broken, and her husband, the man who had vowed to love her and comfort her, was
doing nothing to help her mend. In fact,
Nick was pretty sure it was he who had caused her to shatter in the first
place. Claire had been through a lot of
things and come out with barely a scratch, but either this was one thing too
much, the last straw that had caused her to crack, or Jamie had just thrown a
rock through her soul, splintering it into shards. He was willing to bet it was the latter. On her own, Claire was strong, but she had
leaned on Jamie, and he had let her fall.
As he
talked to her, trying to soothe her as he listened to her break down again,
Nick quickly made a decision. As soon as
he’d gotten off the phone with her, he went back into the conference room and
spoke directly to Johnny. “Listen,
whatever I’m supposed to be doing tomorrow, cancel it. I’m gonna be out of town. It’s an emergency.”
Johnny
looked startled. “What happened? Something with your family? It’s not… it’s not one of the other guys, is
it?”
“No,” Nick
shook his head quickly. “Just a friend
who needs me right now. And I promise,
she’s more important than whatever’s on my agenda tomorrow.”
Johnny
didn’t look pleased, but he nodded, apparently realizing there was going to be
no arguing with Nick on this one.
“Okay. When will you be back?” he
asked, in measured tones.
“Hopefully
by Monday, but I’m not making any guarantees.
I’ll be in touch though,” Nick assured him. “Listen, fellas, I’m sorry for the hassle,
but can we just wrap this meeting up? I
gotta jet; I need to book a flight to Des Moines.”
“Des
Moines? Des Moines, Iowa? Who’s in Des Moines?” asked Paul, wrinkling
his nose. Johnny looked equally
confused.
Nick
offered a grim smile. “My girl’s in Des
Moines.”
When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
High up above or down below
When you’re too in love to let it go
But if you never try, you’ll never know
Just what you’re worth
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I…
Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I…
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
- “Fix You” by Coldplay
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