Chapter 49
“Hey,
Claire! How was your weekend?” Laureen
asked when Claire came into work the next morning.
Claire
fought the urge to laugh. “It was, um…
interesting,” she answered, and when Laureen gave her a curious look, she
added, “Kind of a long story… I don’t really wanna get into it now.” She shrugged apologetically, but Laureen just
smiled and nodded.
“I
understand. I hope everything’s okay?”
Claire
nodded, forcing herself to return the smile.
“Everything’s fine.”
But was
it? She had gone to bed the night before
thinking it was. It should have been
anyway - the rash had turned out to be nothing and would go away in a few days’
time with the cream she’d been sent home with, and Jamie was back in Iowa, safe
and sound; he’d called to let her know earlier that evening, when his flight
had landed. Everything was back to
normal.
But it
wasn’t. And as Nick slept soundly beside
her, she’d tossed and turned, her mind ablaze with rampant thoughts. Thoughts of him. He was leaving first thing Tuesday morning to
fly out to California and start work on the next Backstreet album. Neither of them knew when he would be
back. He’d already offered to delay the
trip… a few days, even a few weeks… to be with her. She’d told him no… partly because he’d made a
commitment to the guys months ago to do this, and partly because… well… maybe
it would be better to be apart from him for awhile. It would give her a chance to spend some time
alone and think… really think. About
him… about their relationship… about everything.
And yet,
she knew she would miss him. In the ten
months they’d been a couple, they’d never gone more than a few days without
seeing each other. This was going to be
something new. It felt weird to think
that after Monday, she’d be sleeping in this huge bed and living in this huge
house all alone. She wasn’t looking
forward to it at all.
“Are you
sure?” Laureen’s voice jarred her out of
her thoughts, and she looked up to see a concerned expression on her friend’s
face. “You look… distracted.”
“I’m sorry,
I’m spacing,” Claire said with an apologetic smile. “Seriously, I’m fine; I just didn’t get a lot
of sleep last night.” Lowering her voice
a little, she added sheepishly, “Nick’s leaving for LA tomorrow morning to meet
up with the guys and get to work on their next album.”
Laureen’s
reaction was priceless - an undeniable flicker of excitement (over the mention
of the new album, no doubt), quickly replaced by a look of sympathy. “Aww… I’m sorry. That’s gotta be rough on you, having him gone
like that.”
Claire
nodded, wishing that was the only thing bothering her. It would certainly be harder to let him go if
he hadn’t kissed another woman on Friday… but at least she would have been able
to do it with peace of mind, knowing that their relationship was solid and
strong, that nothing but physical miles would come between them while they were
apart. She didn’t have that sense of
security now.
There was
no doubt in her mind that Nick loved her.
He’d told her hundreds of time and showed it a million times over. What had happened that past weekend hadn’t
been intentional. He’d made a mistake. She understood that. But that didn’t make it any easier to get
over. She could forgive… but she would
not forget, not anytime soon. That phone
conversation, the sound of that woman’s voice in her ear, taunting her, would
continue to haunt her, lingering in her memory like a bad smell in a small
room. Nick’s indiscretion was a blemish
on their relationship… not big enough to ruin everything, but enough to mar the
near perfection of what they’d had. With
time, though, blemishes disappeared.
Unless, of course, they scarred.
Scars… those never went away.
“Claire?”
Claire
looked up, realizing she was doing it again.
“Sorry,” she apologized quickly to Laureen. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be weird, having him
gone…”
“I
know. Well, if you need someone to help
you take your mind off things when you start missing him, give me a call
anytime,” offered Laureen with a friendly smile.
Claire
returned the smile appreciatively.
“Thanks.” Forcing herself to stop
thinking of Nick, she asked, “So how was your weekend?”
“It was
pretty good. Tim and I just hung
out. We went to a movie on Friday night
and caught the FSU football game on TV on Saturday.”
“Sounds
like a nice weekend. What movie did you
see?”
“He took me
to this old theater called The Empress, and we saw ‘The Birds.’ You know, that old movie about… well,
birds?” Laureen giggled. “Anyway, it was cool. Have you been to that theater before? It’s really neat on the inside.”
Claire
chuckled weakly – so much for not thinking of Nick. “Yeah… I’ve been there. I love that place. So, ‘The Birds,’ huh? Bet Tim enjoyed that one.”
Laureen
gave her a questioning smile. “Yeah, he
did… why?”
Claire
shrugged, fighting hard to keep a straight face. “I just know Tim likes birds,” she said. Looking away so that Laureen would not see
her smirk, she glanced up at the clock and realized her first appointment was
scheduled to arrive in ten minutes.
“Well, I should probably get to work.”
“Yeah, me
too,” said Laureen. “See you later!”
“See ya,
Laureen.”
They left
the break room together and parted in the hallway, each heading to their own
workspaces. Glad for something to keep
her busy and take her mind off of Nick, Claire started setting up for her first
patient.
***
Half-heartedly,
Nick tossed a pair of socks in the general direction of his suitcase, frowning
when they bounced off the bed and rolled across the floor. He wandered around to the other side of the
bed and bent down, grunting, to retrieve them.
He tucked them neatly alongside a pile of boxers inside the suitcase and
then sat down on his bed, sighing to himself.
He didn’t want to be doing this now; he hated packing. He wanted to get it done early though, for he
was planning to drop by the hospital to visit Casey for awhile that afternoon,
and once Claire got home from work, he intended to spend the rest of the day
with her, making the most of his last night in town.
It was
going to be hard leaving her tomorrow morning, that was for sure. He was looking forward to getting back to the
career he loved; he’d been away from it for too long. But he hated to leave Claire behind,
especially after this past weekend. He’d
been so afraid of losing her… in more ways than one. And even though he knew she was alright, health-wise,
he wasn’t sure if their relationship was.
They’d kissed and made up the day before, sure, but that wasn’t a
fix-all. Tension lingered whenever they
were in the same room, and their conversations were strained and oddly formal.
It was
agonizing for Nick. Usually being with
Claire put him at ease; he’d always felt so comfortable around her, knowing he
didn’t have to be a certain person or act a certain way in her presence. But for the past twenty-four hours, he’d been
walking on eggshells around her, terrified of making the wrong move and putting
another crack in their precariously mended relationship. Maybe it would be good to get away for
awhile… it would give her time to think and heal, him to clear his head and
escape.
He felt
sort of like escaping now, he realized, as he glanced at his half-packed
suitcase. Maybe he’d take a break and
head up to the hospital now. He wanted
to check up on Casey and stop in to say goodbye to the kid if he was well
enough for a visit. Hanging around at
the hospital wasn’t any big treat, especially with Casey as sick as he had been
all last week. But Nick felt obligated
to go, and he might as well get it over with.
Sliding off the bed, he looked around for his shoes and sat down again
to put them on.
Half an
hour later, the soles of his shoes squeaked against the off-white floor tiles
in the oncology ward. As he made the
familiar trek through the hallways, he realized he probably knew every inch of
this floor of the hospital by now: the
outpatient clinic, the private suites he’d occupied during his stays there, the
ICU he’d fought pneumonia inside, the isolation unit where Claire had undergone
her bone marrow transplant, and now – he slowed down, swallowing hard as the
bland walls turned bright with painted designs in bold, primary colors – the
pediatric unit.
He stopped
at the small nurses’ station and recognized one of the nurses, Erica. She worked there most afternoons when he came
to see Casey, so they were on a first-name basis by now. “Good morning, Nick,” she smiled up at him
from over a computer screen. “You’re
early today.”
Nick
shrugged. “Yeah, I’m leaving town
tomorrow and got sick of packing.”
“Ooh,
vacation?”
“I wish,”
Nick laughed. “Nah, it’s a… business
trip.” He smirked; he got a kick out of
calling it that. Technically, it was
a business trip – he was going to LA to work, after all – but he’d always
associated the term ‘business trip’ with the image of a stiff middle-aged man
wearing a crisp suit and carrying a leather briefcase. Somehow he couldn’t see himself ever quite
fitting that bill.
“Ahh,” said
Erica with a knowing smile. She was
fairly young, probably around thirty or so – she knew who he was and what he
did for a living. “Well, good luck with
that, and have a safe trip.”
“Thanks,”
Nick smiled. “So, how’s Casey doing
today?”
“A lot
better, actually,” the nurse replied.
“His fever’s down, and it looks like the infection is going away. He’s been awake and talking most of the
morning, so I’m sure he’ll be glad for a visit.”
Nick smiled
again, this time in relief. “Good,” he
said, grateful for the encouraging news.
Erica
ushered him into the isolation unit, which was separated from the regular pedes
rooms by sliding doors that required a code to get through. He washed his hands and quickly got ‘gowned
up,’ throwing a green surgical gown over his clothes and putting on the cap,
mask, and shoe-covers like a pro. When
he was ready, Erica let him go into Casey’s room.
Casey still
looked frail beneath his bedcovers, but the head of his bed was raised most of
the way today, propping him up, and his smile when he saw Nick brightened his
otherwise sallow face, making him look a hundred times better. “Hey, Nick!” he said. His voice was still weak and slightly hoarse,
but Nick could hear the trace of excitement in it and felt himself
automatically smile back.
“Hey, Case,
what’s up?” Nick replied, taking a seat beside Casey’s bed.
Casey
shrugged. “Not much. There’s nothing to do here.”
Nick smiled
at that and nodded in empathy. “Oh,
don’t I know it. They need to install an
arcade in this place… and a movie theater too… maybe an auditorium or
something, you know, for concerts? Get
some bands to come and entertain y’all.”
“Like who, you?”
Casey asked, and Nick was surprised to see a playful smirk on his face. The kid was being sarcastic – he had just
gotten dissed by an eleven-year-old boy.
“‘Like who,
you?’” Nick mocked good-naturedly, rolling his eyes at Casey as if he
were offended. “And what would be wrong
with that?”
“You’re in
the Backstreet Boys. Only girls
like them.”
Nick arched
an eyebrow. “Well, that’s all the more
reason to go to a Backstreet show – lots and lots of girls there. You won’t have much competition, cause most
of us have girlfriends. Except Howie,
but no one likes him anyway.” He winked
and smiled devilishly, suddenly wishing Howie were there – there was nothing
more fun than ripping on poor D.
Casey wrinkled his nose. “Girls suck,”
he muttered.
Nick chuckled. “Why’s that?
Cooties?” he asked, amused.
Now Casey
rolled his eyes, as if to say, Duh, I’m eleven, I don’t believe in cooties
anymore. “No… they just suck.”
“I guess
some of them do,” Nick nodded, “but not all girls suck. Claire’s a girl… and she doesn’t suck, does
she?”
Casey shook
his head impatiently. “Claire’s a woman,”
he corrected, and Nick fought the urge to laugh at the way he stressed the word
‘woman.’
“Yeah, I
guess that’s true. She acts like a kid
sometimes though,” Nick said with another wink.
“So you like women then, huh?”
At that,
Casey blushed, his whole face turning bright red. It was quite comical. “No… I just don’t like girls,” he repeated,
obviously flustered and a little embarrassed.
Nick backed off, remembering what it was like to be eleven, right
between cooties and crushes.
“So I take
it you’re a free man then – no girlfriend at school? That’s the way to do it, dude, don’t get tied
down,” he kidded lightly.
“I did have
a girlfriend, but she dumped me,” Casey admitted, flushing another shade of
scarlet. Seeing how dejected he looked
suddenly, Nick realized he was being serious and quit the teasing banter.
“Aw, that’s
rough,” he offered. “I’m sorry. What happened?” It suddenly felt ridiculous to be having
this conversation with a fifth-grader – he didn’t remember kids having
girlfriends or boyfriends when he was in fifth grade, but then again,
he’d always been sort of a misfit at school, so maybe they did and he just
wasn’t aware of it…
“When she
found out I was in the hospital, she had her mom bring her here to see me. She didn’t stay for long, and then the next
day at school I guess she went around and told everyone I was dying – that’s
what my friend Tyler told me – and then her best friend Katie IMed Tyler and
told him that she didn’t wanna go out with me anymore. I guess she couldn’t handle this,” said
Casey, looking around the room.
There
seemed to be an aura of maturity surrounding the eleven-year-old at that
moment, and Nick was struck by it, and also by how much he could relate. He knew exactly what ‘this’ encompassed, and
he nodded his empathy. “That really
sucks,” he said with sincerity. “Some
girls really can’t handle it… you just gotta wait for the right one to come along,
someone who understands.” Like Claire,
he thought, realizing again how lucky he was to have someone like her in his
life. “But don’t worry,” he added. “The good news is, you’re young, and so is
she. Girls can be silly and mean when
they’re your age, but eventually they grow up, and they turn out alright.” All of a sudden, Leah’s face flashed in his
mind, and he added quickly, “Well, most of them do anyway.”
Casey
nodded and shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m over her now anyway.”
Nick tried
to hide his smile. “Good for you. Any girl who has her best friend dump you
over IM isn’t worth your time. So do you
get to talk to your other friends from school a lot?”
Casey
shrugged again, then shook his head.
“Not really… Tyler came to visit me a few times, but then he
stopped. And my class sent me a big
get-well card that everybody signed, but I know it’s only cause my teacher made
them.”
Nick wished
he hadn’t asked that last question. “You
know what it is, don’t you? They’re
probably just scared. Not of you,
but of the hospital and of being sick.
It’s tough to have to see your friend sick and hurting, you know?” Casey nodded silently, and Nick added,
“’Course, it’s tough to be the one sick and hurting too. I know how it feels. Some of my friends got kind of weird about it
too, and we don’t hang out that much anymore.
But you know what? It’s okay,
cause I have other friends. And I’ve
made some new friends – Claire and you.”
“Me?” Casey looked slightly happier, which made
Nick feel better.
“Yeah,
you,” he repeated. “We’re friends,
aren’t we?”
Casey
nodded, smiling. The smile sent a wave
of guilt crashing over Nick as he realized he was leaving town the very next
day. How was he going to tell Casey he
was going to California and didn’t know when he’d be back? With the kid as sick as he’d been the whole
last week, Nick hadn’t had a chance to warn him earlier. Now it seemed much too short of notice,
especially after the conversation they’d just had.
He cleared
his throat, deciding he better just go ahead and tell him now, rather than
later. The sooner the better,
right? “Um, so… that reminds me, I got
something to tell you,” he began. “The
other… the other Backstreet Boys and I, we’re getting together this week to
start working on songs for our next CD.”
“Oh,” Casey
said, nodding with slight interest in his eyes, despite his earlier comment
about ‘the Backstreet Boys.”
“Yeah, it’s
cool; I’m excited about it,” Nick went on.
“The only thing is – we’re going to Los Angeles to do it.”
“You’re
going to California?” Casey asked, eyes widening. “When?”
“Um…
tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Casey’s face fell, and Nick’s heart sank
right along with it.
“Yeah,
buddy… I’m sorry this is such short notice, but I didn’t get a chance to tell
you last week.”
“How long
will you be there?” Casey wondered.
“I’m not
sure yet,” Nick confessed. “But we can
still talk – I’ll call you if you want; how would that be?”
Casey
shrugged. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry;
I know that’s not really the same thing,” apologized Nick. “Part of me doesn’t really want to go… but I
have to. This is my job, you know? And I love what I do. It’s just hard to have to travel and be away
from home sometimes.”
“I
understand,” Casey nodded. “My mom says
that about her job too. She doesn’t have
to go all the way to California… but she doesn’t like having to go to work
while I’m here. She has to though, to
make money.”
“It’s tough
work being an adult sometimes, you know that?” Nick said with a wry smile. “Enjoy being a kid while you can.”
As soon as
he said it, the advice sounded dumb to him.
How was Casey supposed to enjoy being a kid when he was trapped in the
hospital, being pumped full of toxic drugs that made him sick while he fought
his third battle against cancer? He’d
been at war with this for over half of his young life. The realization made Nick feel sick to his
stomach.
“Hey, would
it be alright if I called you tomorrow morning while I’m on my flight to Cali?”
he asked quickly, determined to change the subject. “It’s a long plane ride, and I don’t really
like flying.”
“Really,
you don’t? I love it! I wanna be a pilot when I grow up. This one time, my dad took me to see the Blue
Angels, and it was sooo awesome! I wanna
learn to fly and do tricks and stuff like that.”
The very
thought of doing flips and barrel rolls in one of those little planes made Nick
want to hurl, but he forced a smile and said, “That would rock. If Star Fox is any indicator, I bet you’d
kick butt at it.”
Casey
beamed with pride, looking perfectly happy again. “Thanks.
And sure you can call me from the plane.
If you’re not using the barf bag, anyway.” Casey’s dark eyes flashed devilishly, and
Nick couldn’t help but smile. He was no
different from any other eleven-year-old boy – nothing funnier than a barf bag
on an airplane. Nick didn’t find them
quite so amusing anymore; in a decade of flying all over the world, he’d had
the misfortune of using quite a few of them.
“Well,
hopefully you’ll be able to talk to me, if you’re not using that thing,” he
shot back playfully, pointing to the nearby emesis basin. Casey wrinkled his nose at the sight of it,
but grinned, ready for the challenge.
Nick knew he’d be able to take the teasing; he was a tough kid. Claire had always said he was, and it was
true. He’d never understood how she
could stand being around children with cancer – it seemed so depressing. But now he did. Kids like Casey needed someone to talk to,
someone who understood what they were going through when few others did. And from Nick’s standpoint, it was kind of
refreshing to hang out with the kid.
Casey had such a mix of innocence and wisdom beyond his years; it
intrigued him.
And as he
made a mental note to get the phone number for Casey’s hospital room before he
left that day, Nick realized something else – not only was he going to miss
Claire; he was going to miss Casey too.
***