Chapter
14
The x-ray was short and painless, and before long, Nick had been
escorted back into the examining room.
He sat impatiently on the table, waiting for the doctor to return and
listening to the paper beneath him crinkle every time he fidgeted.
It seemed to take forever for the doctor to come back, but finally
he did, carrying a shiny black x-ray film with him. Wordlessly, he slid the x-ray onto a white
board mounted on one of the walls and hit a switch, illuminating the board. Nick squinted at the x-ray, trying to figure
out if he could see a crack in one of his bones or not. He couldn’t tell; it was all a black and
white blur to him.
“So, do I have a fracture?” he asked the doctor.
“Yes,” replied the doctor, frowning. “You have a hairline fracture here on your
tibia; that’s the larger bone in your shin.
See this line here?” He ran his
finger across the x-ray, and Nick nodded, just able to make out the tiny, dark
line running across the white of the bone.
In the center of the white part, right on the crack, there was a small,
dark circle.
“What’s that black spot there?” he asked. “Is that my kneecap or something?”
“No, your kneecap is up here,” said the doctor, pointing up near
the top of the film. “This black part
here is actually a hole in your bone.”
Nick cocked his head in confusion.
“A hole?” he repeated. “How did
that happen? Did I chip the bone or
something?”
The doctor pursed his lips.
“Well… it’s, uh, hard to tell exactly what it is by the x-ray. But I’d like to have some more tests run.”
“More tests? Why? Is there something really wrong with
me?” Nick’s heart had begun to pound,
and his hands felt clammy. God, he hated
doctors.
“No, no, I didn’t say that,” the doctor assured him, giving him a small
smile. “Don’t worry. It’s just a precaution. The hole could be nothing, or the x-ray could
even be wrong. But I want to be sure
that it is just nothing. Would you be
willing to check into the hospital to have the tests run?”
“You mean I have a choice?
I don’t have to do this?” Nick asked hopefully. The doctor was making it sound optional.
“Well, technically, no, but in my expert opinion, I think you
should,” replied the doctor, giving him a serious look. “You have the right to refuse treatment, of
course, but better safe than sorry, right?”
“How long will these tests take?
Like will I have to stay in the hospital?” Nick asked warily.
“I’m not sure, but I imagine you would have to stay
overnight. Probably no longer than that
though.”
“Aww, man,” Nick groaned.
“I… I really can’t do that now… I’m supposed to go to Atlanta in two
days. Can it wait till I get back? I’m only gonna be gone a few days.”
“Yes,” said the doctor.
“But you need to stay off that leg.
I’m going to rent you out a pair of crutches, and I want you to use
them. When you go to the hospital,
you’ll probably be fitted with some kind of leg brace, but until then, be
careful and take it easy. What day will
you be back from your trip?”
“Next Friday,” Nick replied.
“Okay. I’ll call Tampa
General and book a room for you for next Saturday. Will you be able to check into the hospital
then?”
“Yeah,” Nick reluctantly answered.
“Okay. Sit tight, and I’ll
make the arrangements. Be right
back.” The doctor disappeared from the
room, and Nick sat alone, trying to keep his mind from jumping to the worst
case scenario, that when he went into the hospital the next week, the doctors
would find something terribly wrong with him.
Stop it, he
told himself. It’s probably
nothing. This guy just wants me to go
through these tests so he won’t get sued if there is something wrong that he
didn’t catch. He tried to relax,
tried to take his mind off of the situation and focus on pleasant, happy things
instead.
It didn’t work.
***
When Nick came off the plane at the Atlanta airport two days
later, he was on crutches. Hobbling
through the cluster of people in the terminal, Nick looked around for
Brian. Just when he was beginning to
wonder if his friend had forgotten him, he heard that familiar
Kentucky-accented voice call out, “Nick!”
His head turning in the direction of the voice, he spotted Brian
pushing through the crowds to get to him.
He grinned and opened his mouth to say hi to his best friend, but Brian
got out his words first. “What
happened?” he cried, eyeing the crutches.
“Stress fracture,” replied Nick.
This was not the exact truth – after all, the clinic doctor had
technically never said it was a stress fracture. But that term made Nick think of an athlete,
and it sounded more valiant than admitting he had fractured his leg on his
bathtub.
“Stress fracture?” echoed Brian.
“How did that happen?”
“I dunno, too much jumping around on stage, I guess,” Nick replied
with a shrug.
“Oh, that sucks, man. So
how long do you have to use those things?”
He motioned to the crutches.
“I dunno, a few weeks, I guess.
I’ll find out more next week; I’m going to a specialist to get a brace
put on it and stuff.” Again, he was
hiding information from Brian, but now was not the time to worry his
friend. He was worried enough
himself. Smiling casually, he asked,
“So, how’s Leigh and Baylee?”
Brian’s entire face brightened with this question. “They’re just great,” he said. “Excited to see you.”
“Baylee too?” Nick teased.
Brian laughed. “He will
be. Come on, let’s go get your bags.”
They stopped at the baggage claim to pick up Nick’s suitcases,
which Brian gallantly carried himself as he led the way out to his car. Brian’s sporty blue BMW looked the same as
always, but when Nick got in, he observed an infant’s car seat strapped into
the backseat, just another reminder of how things had changed over the past
year.
The two men made small talk on the drive from the airport to
Brian’s house, and Nick couldn’t help but notice that they seemed to have less
to talk about than usual, despite the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in
several months. The conversation was
strained, with long pauses in between pointless topics. Brian must have realized this as well, for he
flipped on the radio to ease the uncomfortable silence.
Justin Timberlake’s “Cry Me a River” droned through the speakers,
and Nick wrinkled his nose in disgust, quickly changing the station.
“Sorry,” he muttered, giving Brian a sidelong glance.
“That’s okay,” Brian replied.
“I hate that song too.”
Brian wasn’t much into hard rock the way Nick was, so Nick found
another pop station, a nice compromise.
“Good song,” he commented, as Michelle Branch’s “Goodbye to You” played.
“Yeah, much better,” Brian agreed.
“So… did you watch the Grammys?”
The ceremony had been shown on TV several weeks earlier.
“Yeah,” Brian answered tonelessly.
“Maybe we’ll be there next year.”
“Yeah. Maybe we’ll win next
year.”
Brian snorted and grinned over at Nick. “Yeah.
Right.” It had become something
of a joke between the group members now; they had been nominated for Grammys
several years, but had never won. It was
an honor just to be nominated, and they were grateful, but they had come to the
consensus that despite the quality of their music, they would probably never
win. “Boybands” just never got very far
when it came to that sort of thing.
Dismissed by critics, scoffed at by other artists, they felt they would
never be accepted as serious, professional musicians. It was disheartening, but that was just one
of the downfalls of being a five-member pop group. They would forever be compared to New Kids on
the Block and, though they had proven they could sing a cappella and write
their own music, they would always be thought of as nothing but a talentless,
lip-syncing boyband.
“So, have you talked to the guys lately?” Brian asked in his
Kentucky drawl.
“Nope,” replied Nick. “Have
you?”
“Yeah, I talked to Kevin the other day.”
“Let me guess – he called you, right?”
“Yeah.”
Nick chuckled.
“Figured. Daddy Kevin, always
watching out for his baby cousin.”
“Always,” Brian repeated with a grin, adding in an exaggerated
drawl, “He’s mah cousin, ya know. I’ve
known him all mah life.”
Nick snickered; it was fun to tease Kevin about his
more-than-obvious comments. That
particular interview, done on the set of the “As Long As You Love Me” video,
had become infamous.
Brian started laughing now as well, and as the two sat side by side,
cracking jokes about their older bandmate, it seemed once again like old times,
like nothing had changed. As Brian eased
the car into his driveway and pulled up to the house, Nick smiled, hoping that
this visit would rekindle his and Brian’s friendship. After all, they were Frick and Frack, friends
forever. Nothing could come between
them, nothing could separate them, right?
As the two climbed out of the car, talking and laughing together,
neither one knew of the trials they would soon have to face.
***