Chapter 168
With the
coming of midnight on New Year’s Eve came an overwhelming sense of déjà vu for
Claire, who spent the evening on the couch in the condo, absently watching the
Dick Clark special on TV and feeling her babies kick and squirm inside
her. She was surrounded by love, both
inside and out, with her family around her and her unborn twins on the way, but
a part of her still felt strangely empty and alone.
She had
felt this way all week, ever since Jamie had left.
She was
trying to be strong – and stubborn – and reassure herself that she had been
right to kick him out. He needed time to
sort out his priorities and get his head on straight, and she needed space and
time away from him. But though she
didn’t miss the conflict and drama of having him around, she did miss him. Especially tonight. They had spent the last two New Years
together; last year, they’d been only weeks away from their wedding.
It seemed
strange that it had only been one year ago.
So much had changed since their wedding day.
She felt
completely removed from last year’s celebration, as if it had happened in
another lifetime. Instead, it was almost
as if she were reliving the one from three years ago, when she’d watched the
ball in Times Square drop from Kyle and Amber’s living room, cradling newborn
Kamden in her arms and nursing a broken heart, less than a month after leaving
Nick.
That had
been New Year’s Eve 2005. Now, an hour
away from ringing in 2009, she was married to, but separated from, a different
man and expecting children of her own.
But just like then, she had no idea what to expect in the new year. She had motherhood to look forward to… but what
of Jamie? What of her marriage? Her life?
As the rest
of the world looked forward to the year to come, Claire almost wished she could
go back, back to four years ago, when everything in her life had seemed almost
startlingly clear. That New Year’s was
the first she and Nick had spent together… in fact, it was the night they’d
made their “couple” status official. It
had been less than a month since she’d almost lost him, and she’d known then
that he was the only one she wanted to be with.
They celebrated the new year together with conviction, both anxious for
a new beginning, with fresh outlooks on life and all the hope in the world for
the future and their relationship. In
their minds, he loved her, she loved him, and nothing else mattered. In a way, they’d cheated death, and, perhaps
naively, they’d felt they could conquer anything as long as they were together.
What they
hadn’t been able to conquer were the ordinary issues that ruined relationships,
even one like theirs. But that night,
Claire hadn’t been thinking about anything ordinary. She hadn’t foreseen any of the seemingly
trivial arguments which would break them apart.
All she could see that night was Nick and how extraordinary he
was in her eyes and how extraordinary their love for each other was.
And now,
remembering that night, she wished she could return to that brief period of
innocence and lightheartedness in an adulthood that was otherwise marred with
trials and anguish.
They say
the way you spend New Year’s is the way you’ll spend your year, and that year,
it had been true. She and Nick had spent
most of the year together in happiness, before she’d left him in December, a
decision part of her still regretted.
And now she’d separated herself from Jamie, and she wondered, what did
the fact that they’d be spending New Year’s apart say about the prospects for
saving their marriage?
It was too
late to change anything, though; there was just under an hour until midnight,
two hours for Jamie because he was back in the central time zone. He’d stayed at his brother’s place for a few
days and then flown home early, when she’d made it clear she didn’t want to see
him. She had promised to stay in touch,
in order to keep him involved with their unborn children, but aside from relaying
updates on her pregnancy, she wanted little contact. It would just make things easier for the both
of them if they stayed away from each other, until they could figure out where
to go from there.
And so, she
would ring in the new year in uncertainty.
***
Across
town, Nick and Laureen were enjoying a New Year’s Eve much more reminiscent of
the happy, hopeful one that haunted Claire’s memory.
It was
their first New Year’s together, and they’d opted to make it intimate and
low-key, with just the two of them. Once
again, Nick was not at his best, with a jaw that was still bruised, tender, and
swollen from Jamie’s blow, so he’d treated Laureen to a candlelit dinner out
and she’d happily agreed to spending the rest of the night in at his place,
watching movies, and getting drunk.
Halfway
through the midnight hour found them halfway through Wayne’s World and
halfway through a six-pack of Corona.
“Wanna
pause it? I gotta pee,” Laureen giggled,
getting up for the third time since they’d started the movie.
Nick
laughed too. “Sure. Actually…”
He paused to glance at the clock.
“Maybe we should just stop for now and watch the TV; it’s almost
midnight. Gotta watch the ball drop.”
“Oh, of
course!” Laureen agreed. “Be back!”
But once
she had scurried off, Nick had a different idea. He went to his stereo, flipped quickly
through one of his rotating racks of CDs, and pulled a case from the
collection. Slipping a CD into the stereo,
he cued it just in time.
When
Laureen came back into the room, the TV was on mute, and gentle strains of
Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” were playing softly. She stopped dead in her tracks, listening,
and he heard her gasp, her whole face lighting up as she recognized the
music. “I love this song!!” she cooed. “Nick!”
“Dance with
me,” he said, reaching out to her and drawing her near.
She floated
obediently into his arms, and they began to rotate around the room, their heads
light with alcohol, their hearts even lighter.
This was how a New Year’s Eve should be spent, Nick thought, dancing
slowly with that special someone, not a care in the world or a soul to
interrupt them. Neither of them spoke;
for once, it seemed that words would just get in the way of the moment. So they just danced, her head on his
shoulder, his arms tight around her.
And as the
clock struck midnight and the shimmering ball descended upon Times Square, Nick
took Laureen’s face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers, ringing in 2009
with a deep, lingering kiss.
***
Two days
into the New Year, the couple decided to put Nick’s Christmas present –
everything they needed for a night out at Club Nite-Glo – to good use. Nick dressed in the Don Johnson-esque white
suit Laureen had given him, complete with the teal shirt underneath as an
accent piece, and pulled the old loafers over his bare feet. He wasn’t sure how well the loafer would stay
on his artificial foot, but thankfully, it was a good fit, and he could walk in
it without it flopping off.
He wished
he had a sweet 80s Ferrari to pick up Laureen in, but he settled for his
Bentley convertible instead. He drove to
her apartment building with the top down, parked, and was about to go and get
her when the door opened, and out she came.
A smile spread across his face as she approached, and he drank in the
sight of her.
The
black-and-teal, taffeta dress she’d bought fit her like a glove, hugging her
curves in all the right places. He’d
never seen her in something so form-fitting, and it was a pleasant
surprise. Her hair was crimped and
teased so that it was huge, even with half of it up in a big, floppy bow, a la
Madonna, on top of her head. On her feet
were teal pumps that matched her dress exactly, and on her wrists were many
bangles and big, clunky bracelets in bright pinks and teals. She had an equally big set of earrings and a
string of huge, hot pink beads around her neck, and her face was made-up boldly
with lavender eye shadow and bright pink lipstick. Yet altogether, the result was not tacky. Nick thought she looked adorable.
He kissed
her a greeting, forgetting the pink lipstick, and came away with his lips
tinted that shade as well. Giggling,
Laureen helped him wipe it off and then said, coyly, “You look hot in that
outfit.”
“Really.” Nick swept a hand through his hair and struck
a cheesy pose alongside his car. “Well,
you look bodacious, babe.”
Laureen
blushed, making her face even more colorful, and grinned. “I had fun getting ready.”
He
chuckled, looking her over again. “I bet
you did.”
They
listened to an 80s mix he’d made on the way to the club, and when they got
there, more 80s music was blaring out the front doors. Nick handed his keys to the valet and walked
around the car to get Laureen. As they
walked inside and paid the entrance fee, they passed many others who were
dressed in the same fashion as Laureen, but none of them, Nick thought, looked
as cute as her.
One part of
the club was a small restaurant that carried a variety of dishes named for
eighties icons, and they decided to start with dinner there. Laureen got the Top Gun burger, and Nick, in
the mood for shrimp, grudgingly ordered the Swayze Seafood Soiree. “I’m gonna need some fuel for all that dirty
dancing we’re gonna do later,” he quipped, defending his choice with a wiggle
of his brows.
Laureen
giggled.
Once their
plates had been cleared away, their bill paid, they made their way to the other
side of the club, where strobe lights flashed, colored lights flickered and
swirled, and people danced and drank.
Nick didn’t hesitate in buying drinks for himself and Laureen, and they
sat off to the side and sipped for awhile, waiting for the right moment to hit
the dance floor.
There was
an old-school DJ who spun the records there every night; he played his part
well, dressed in parachute pants, big shades, and a backwards cap in Day-Glo
yellow. After a series of the upbeat
staples of 80s music, he turned on his mic said in a cheesy DJ voice, “Alright,
we’re gonna slow this place down for awhile, so grab your babe and make your
way onto the dance floor.”
This was
most people’s excuse to leave the dance floor and get a drink, but as
the crowd thinned, a few couples remained to slow dance.
“How about
that dance?” asked Laureen, offering Nick a sweet smile.
He was
about to agree, but then he heard the song that was starting. The piano melody was almost haunting, and he
instantly stiffened. “Um, I can’t,” he
said slowly. “Not this song, okay?”
At first,
Laureen looked confused, but quickly, the realization hit her. “Ohh,” she murmured. “This was your song with
Claire, wasn’t it?”
A lump rose
in Nick’s throat; he quickly cleared it away.
“‘Open Arms,’ yeah. I know it’s
been a long time since we were together and all, but… it just doesn’t feel
right, you know?” Forcing a smile, he
added, “We need our own song anyway.”
Laureen
smiled back. “I agree. Next song that comes on, is ours.”
“You got
it, babe.”
The waited
the song out, and it was only slightly awkward, mostly because Nick kept
lapsing into silence, remembering the time he had danced with Claire to this
song in a club in Maui…
He nearly spit out a mouthful of beer
when he could have sworn he heard the familiar strains of “Open Arms” by
Journey begin to play. Swallowing
quickly, he listened and quickly realized that the song was playing. He looked over at Claire, unable to keep
himself from smiling. She met his eyes,
her smile making hers sparkle in the dim, bluish light.
“Let’s dance,” she said, slipping off
of her stool and taking both of his hands.
“Come on.”
He let her pull him off of his stool…
and followed her slowly out onto the dance floor.
They made their way over to a darkened
corner… and then Claire turned, drifting toward him. He put his arms around her waist, pulling her
close, and her arms rose to encircle his neck.
Slowly, they rocked back and forth in time to the music, gradually
circling round and round.
Nothing could beat the intimacy of
dancing like this, with the woman he loved in his arms, her head nestled
against his chest…
Staring
into the depths of his drink, Nick could almost see them now, shuffling around
the dance floor of that club. That dance
had meant so much to him, partly because it had been his first since he’d lost
his leg, and partly because it had been with her. He’d been so in love with her then, and she
had loved him, and they had been so happy and carefree there in Hawaii.
But things
had changed. Claire was no longer the
happy, carefree woman she had been then, and she was no longer in love with
him. And while he would always love her,
he had moved on too. Laureen was proof
of that.
Nick forced
himself to look up at her now, just as the song was ending. She offered him a tiny smile, looking
expectant. He smiled back, and when the
next song started, he stood and extended his hand to her. “How about that dance now?”
Beaming,
Laureen took his hand, and they walked out onto the dance floor, accompanied by
the keyboard rift of the song that playing and surrounded by soft purple and
blue lights. Nick let go of Laureen’s
left hand and put his right hand around her waist. Her free hand found his shoulder, and they
began to move together, side to side, forward and back.
“How can I convince you
What you see is real
Who am I to blame you
For doubting what you feel?
“I was always reaching
You were just a girl I knew
I took for granted
The friend I have in you…”
Laureen
leaned forward. “I don’t know this
song,” she confessed, whispering loudly into his ear.
Nick
listened to the chorus, trying to place it.
“I was living for a dream
Loving for a moment
Taking on the world
That was just my style
“Now I look into your eyes
I can see forever
The search is over
You were with me all the while…”
“‘The
Search is Over,’ he whispered back. “I
think Survivor sings it.”
“Don’t they
sing ‘Eye of the Tiger’?”
“Yep.”
“Hm.” Laureen looked impressed. “You’re good.”
Nick
shrugged, smiling.
“Can we last forever?
Will we fall apart?
At times, it’s so confusing
The questions of the heart
“You followed me through changes
And patiently you’d wait
Till I came to my senses
Through some miracle of fate…”
“I like
this song,” Laureen decided, snuggling against him. “This can be our song.”
Nick smiled
close-lipped, afraid of inhaling a mouthful of her hair, which was dangerously
close to attacking his face. He ran his
hand over her back, letting it drift low on her taffeta-covered hips.
The song
ended, but they stayed out on the dance floor through several more slow songs,
power ballads by Bon Jovi and Foreigner, bands Nick had grown up with. He was enjoying himself, and Laureen appeared
to be too.
That was,
until Sariah.
The last
slow song in the set had finished, and Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean” had
started to play, and Laureen had squealed, “I love this song!” and insisted
they stay out on the dance floor. The
alcohol had loosened her up, and she danced playfully alongside Nick, shimmying
as he grinded, both having a good time.
And then, suddenly, there was another woman, shimmying and grinding her
way into their space, right up to Nick.
Caught
off-guard, he looked from her to Laureen.
But Laureen was not looking at him.
She had stopped dancing and was staring at the other girl, looking
simply appalled. The other girl took the
opportunity to move closer to Nick, slinking an arm around his waist and
grinding against him.
“Hey, wait
– I’m with her,” Nick said, trying to get her to back off, but the music was
too loud; she couldn’t hear him.
“What?”
he saw her lips mouth. She was
wearing purple lipstick. Bright purple
lipstick, smeared in several layers over her huge lips. The effect was not attractive, especially
with the makeup-crusted, red sore at the corner of her mouth. His own lip curling as he noticed this, Nick
inched backwards, wanting to stay far away from her. But with purple-taloned hands, she came at
him, wrapped her clawed fingers around his upper arm, and pulled him closer to
her.
“I’m sorry,
I’m with my girlfriend,” he said quickly, loudly, squirming to get out of her
grip.
“I’m
Sariah,” she purred in his ear.
Imagining that sore coming into contact with his skin, Nick pulled away,
wrenching his arm out of her grasp.
She let go
abruptly, and the sudden change in force sent him backpedaling, nearly falling
over in the crowd on the dance floor.
Thankfully, Laureen was still nearby and grabbed his other arm, helping
him steady himself. “Come on,” she said,
turning him away from the purple woman, Sariah.
They started to leave the dance floor together when the purple talons
came out again, digging into Nick’s shoulder as she tried to get him to turn
around.
He whirled
around, prepared to tell her none-too-kindly to back off, but before he could
get the words out, he heard Laureen’s voice rise next to him.
“Leave him
alone! He’s with me!”
Sariah’s
haughty eyes narrowed, and even with the music, Nick couldn’t help but hear her
response.
“I can’t
see why.”
Nick
expected Laureen to be hurt by that comment, but if she was, she wasn’t showing
it. Instead, he was surprised to hear
his girlfriend fire back, “I can’t see why he’d wanna be with someone who looks
like she’s been mackin’ on Barney!”
Eyes
flitting again to Sariah’s bright, purple lips, Nick snorted out loud. He flashed Laureen a proud look that said “Good
one,” and in the instant he looked away, Sariah lunged, claws outstretched,
at Laureen.
There was
no time for Nick to jump in and defend his girlfriend; within a matter of seconds,
Laureen was engaged in an all-out cat fight in the middle of the dance
floor. And she was holding her own. Sariah clawed and tore and pulled at
Laureen’s hair, but Laureen fought back, knocking the other woman’s hands away,
her fists trying wildly to get a punch in.
They were
quickly pulled apart, a club bouncer barreling in to grab Sariah while Nick
held Laureen around the waist. For a
moment, he thought the bouncer was going to kick Sariah out and that would be
the end of it, but a moment later, the tall black man was pointing at Laureen,
as his voice boomed, “You – outta here!!”
“Wait!”
Laureen started to protest, eyes wide, but Nick pulled her away.
“Don’t. Come on, let’s just go,” he muttered into her
ear, his arm tight around her waist as he walked her off the dance floor.
He could
tell Laureen was mad, but by the time they got outside into the fresh, night
air, she was laughing. “Oh my god, can
you believe I got us kicked out of a club for getting into a cat fight?” she
giggled hysterically.
“Not
really,” Nick confessed, raising his eyebrows at her. “You were awesome! Booze does wonders on you, baby.”
Laureen
giggled, stumbling a little on her heels.
“I’m sorry for ruining our night though!”
“Nah, you
didn’t. That was hilarious! Most action I’ve seen since Christmas,” he
chuckled and high-fived her. She
laughed, her face shining. Her hair was
an absolute mess from the havoc Sariah had wreaked on it with her fingernails,
and her cheeks were flushed, her eye makeup starting to run, but even
disheveled, she was endearing.
“Come on,”
he said, “let’s go back to my place and put on our own 80s power ballads. We can lose these cheesy clothes
though.” He waggled his eyebrows at
her. “I can’t wait to slide that dress
off of you,” he added, growling into her ear.
She
snickered. “Good luck with that. I had to squeeze myself into it just to get
it on. I don’t think it’s quite going to
slide off.”
“We’ll see about
that. Maybe we need a little lubricant…”
Giggling,
they climbed into Nick’s car when the valet brought it around, and headed for
home.
***