Chapter
140
By the following Saturday, Aaron was gone, and Claire was back, sunburned and
full of stories to tell.
“So… how was it?” Nick forced himself
to ask, as they sat at the table on his back deck, sipping iced tea under the
shade of the table’s large umbrella. He
braced himself for her answer, hoping she wouldn’t start gushing about how
beautiful and romantic it was in Hawaii with Tim. He was pretty sure he would have to throw up if
happened.
It didn’t.
“It was… uh… interesting, I’ll tell you
that much,” Claire replied, making a face.
“Not quite what I had expected.”
“Why, what happened?” he asked with
interest, leaning forward in anticipation as he waited for her to elaborate.
She sighed. “Well, the very first night, Tim and I went
to this sea food restaurant, right?
Well, I ordered this shrimp dish, and oh my God, it made me so sick!”
“Food poisoning?” Nick asked, raising
an eyebrow.
She nodded grimly. “I’m sure that’s what it was. I basically spent the next two days in the
bathroom, either throwing up or, uh… well, other digestive-related
things.” She grimaced, her cheeks
turning even pinker.
Nick smirked. “Uh, yeah, I get the idea.”
“Yeah,” she said flatly, “so after two
days of that, I was totally wiped out and feeling like crap, so I pretty much
just laid around the hotel room while Tim went to the conference sessions and
did his thing. I didn’t even get out to
the beach till the day before we flew back.”
“Aww, that sucks,” Nick said, trying to
look sympathetic instead of relieved.
Really, he felt bad that she’d had such a horrible time, but a part of
him was secretly glad. The thought of
Claire stuck in the bathroom, puking her guts out, was not a pleasant one, but
it was better than what he’d imagined her doing before, with Tim. “I’ll take you back to Hawaii sometime and
make it up to you,” he offered, flashing her his famous half-smile.
She returned the smile. “Sometime, sure,” she said lightly, blowing
him off. “No time soon though. The thought of hopping on a plane and flying
another thirteen hours to Hawaii isn’t that appealing right now. Ugh, I’m still feeling the jet lag from
yesterday.”
“I know how that is,” he
empathized. “I hate flying.”
“I don’t usually, but man, that was
just too much.” She ran a hand through
her hair wearily and asked, “So anyway, did you have a good week? How was Aaron?”
“Yeah, it was fun,” Nick answered
casually. “Aaron was alright. We hung out and stuff… it was good to see him
again.”
“Good,” she said with a smile. “I’m glad you had a good time at least.”
He chuckled lightly, not sure what to
say back to that. I’m glad you
didn’t?
“So, what now? Do you have anything else going on with the
guys, or what?” Claire asked.
Nick just shrugged. “No, not really…” he murmured. He’d sort of been wondering the same
thing. What now? His life had been so busy for the past three
months, what with the video shoot in July, preparing for the VMA’s throughout
the month of August, and then all the publicity that had surrounded him in
September. Now that all that was behind
him, and his week with Aaron was over, his life had gone back to the way it had
been before. Only it wasn’t quite the
same. For one thing, AJ wasn’t there
anymore, and he was no longer going to physical therapy. He’d attended the sessions for a few more
weeks after getting his new leg at the beginning of August, but once he’d
gotten used to the new prosthesis, Susan had cut him loose.
“At this point, you don’t really need
my help anymore,” she’d told him with a smile.
“You’re back on your feet and walking really well, which is more than a
lot of above-knee amputees ever accomplish.
You’ll only improve with practice, but you don’t need me to supervise
you with that anymore.” She’d gone on to
tell him that he could always call her if he wanted to, and that she was proud
of him. He’d left that session feeling
liberated and quite proud of himself, to be honest.
But now, without therapy three days a
week, and without anymore Backstreet-related appearances or anything coming up,
he was sort of… well, bored. During the
spring and summer, he’d been perfectly content to lay around cooped up in his
house, but now that he had rehabilitated and made a sort of comeback, sitting
around at home and doing nothing wasn’t going to cut it anymore. He wanted to be doing something, working
toward something, like he’d done all summer.
But what was there to work toward?
What was next?
“Are you guys going to work on another
album at some point?” Claire asked.
“Why do you care? I thought you weren’t a fan of us,” he teased
her, grinning.
“I’m not,” she shot back
smugly. “I was just asking. You know, making conversation.”
“Ah, I see. Well, to answer your question then – you know,
keep the conversation going and all –“ he winked, “... I don’t know. I’m sure we’ll do another album at some
point, but I don’t know when. I mean, we
haven’t even toured yet…” The words came
out automatically, and she looked at him in surprise.
“Are you still going to tour then?” she
asked.
Nick frowned. “Well… I don’t know,” he said slowly. Touring was usually part of a natural
progression… first an album, then, a few months later, a tour. That was how it had always happened, and back
when they’d released their album in February, the plan had been the same. They’d assumed they would spend that summer
touring. But the shattering news Nick
had received at the end of March had changed everything, and instead, they’d
spent the summer trying to help Nick get his life back together. Now it was autumn, and for the most part,
Nick’s life had returned to normal, as normal as it was ever going to get
anyway.
So again, the question was posed – what
now?
A few months ago, when Nick had been
struggling to walk again and sick and miserable from chemotherapy treatments,
touring had been out of the question, an impossibility. But now that Nick had recovered from surgery
and chemo and learned to walk, was it so unthinkable? He’d already performed once, after all, and
on live television too! And vocally, the
performance had been wonderful. If his
voice was all that really mattered, if they could do shows without all the
dancing and movement they’d done in the past, then why couldn’t he tour?
“I hadn’t really given it too much
thought before now,” he confessed to Claire, “and the guys and I haven’t talked
about it at all. But… I think I do want
to go on tour again. Touring… there’s
just nothing like it. I mean, it gets
old sometimes, riding around on a bus all day and doing shows pretty much every
night. But at the same time, being up on
that stage, getting to do what I love night after night… there’s just nothing
like it. It’s… it’s incredible.”
Claire was smiling broadly. “Then you should do it!” she urged, her eyes
bright with enthusiasm. “You guys should
tour again. There’s no reason why you
can’t, is there? I mean, health-wise,
you’re fine, right? You’ve been feeling
okay and everything?”
“Oh yeah,” Nick said, nodding. “I’m good to go.”
“Then you should talk to the guys about
it and see what they think.”
Nick nodded again, smiling. “I think I will.”
***
“I don’t know if that’s such a good
idea, Nick.”
Turning his head away from the phone,
Nick groaned. Why had he called
Kevin first? He should have known
overprotective Kevin wouldn’t exactly jump at the idea of planning a tour. He should have started with AJ first, to
build up some support. Nick knew AJ was
just itching to get back on stage, especially after the VMA’s. Their performance there had been like taking
a little nibble off the end of a particularly delicious candy bar – now that
he’d had a taste, he was ready to devour the whole thing.
“Kev, why not?” Nick argued, hearing
the whine seep into his voice.
“You know how much touring takes out of
a person,” Kevin replied patiently. “I
don’t think we should undertake such a big thing quite yet.”
“You’re talking about me, aren’t
you?” accused Nick. “When you say ‘how
much touring takes out of a person,’ you mean me. You don’t think I should undertake
something like this yet.”
He heard Kevin sigh loudly on the other
end of the line. “Well, yes, Nick, I
mean you. I don’t want you to push
yourself. You’ve come such a long way
over the past few months, and I admire the fact that you’re so ready and
willing to do a tour, but I think it’s too soon.”
“That’s bullshit! It’s been over six months, and by the time
we’d actually get everything worked out, it’ll have been a lot longer than
that. Brian toured with us only two
months after his surgery!”
“Yeah, only because Lou forced
him too, and I wasn’t happy about that either, remember? And anyway, Nick, we’re talking about two
very different things here.”
“Whatever, dude. Look, I don’t know what you’re worried about,
but I’m fine now, okay? I can do this; I
know I can. I did the VMA’s, didn’t
I? And look how that turned out – we did
really good!”
“We did really well,” Kevin
corrected, to Nick’s annoyance, “and that was one performance, of one
song. Touring is a whole nother
story. It takes a lot more work to do an
entire show, almost every night, for months on end. And I’m not saying you wouldn’t do the work,
Nick, because I know you would. You put
110% into everything you do, and that’s part of the reason why it worries
me. I don’t want you to work yourself
too hard. Your health is more important
than anything; it has to come first.”
“I know that!” Nick exclaimed
impatiently. “I’m just saying, you have
no reason to worry! I’m fine! That’s the whole reason I let them cut my
freaking leg off - so that I could be healthy again!” His voice was rising, and he could feel his
blood boiling inside. He felt almost
ready to cry, though he was not sure entirely why. Maybe it was just all the emotions bubbling
inside him right now – he was like a bottle of soda that had been shaken
vigorously and would explode with just one twist of the cap. And Kevin was definitely twisting his cap
right now.
“I know, Nick, I know,” Kevin said
quietly, after a moment of silence. “I
just worry about you; you know that. I
can’t help it. It just scares me, to
think of something else happening to you.
I would rather you see you take it easy for awhile, instead of pushing
yourself to get ready for touring.
Sometimes I think you overestimate yourself.”
“And sometimes I think you
underestimate me,” Nick muttered back.
“I’m not a little kid anymore, Kevin.
I know my limits, okay? And like I
said, you don’t have to worry about my health anymore because I’m fine.”
“And are those words coming from your
mouth, or your doctor’s? I’m assuming
your last check-up was all right?”
“Yes,” Nick answered, not mentioning
the fact that his last check-up had been at the beginning of July and that he
had not yet rescheduled the one he’d missed the week before.
There was silence on the other end of
the line, and just when Nick was about to ask if he was still there, Kevin
responded with, “Okay, Nick, what about this:
what if we put together a concert… just a concert, but a full one
– you know, about an hour and a half/two hours long – and just see how it
goes? The concert could be for charity
or something, or maybe we could have it televised or put it on video at some
kind of comeback special or something.
Whatever. The point is, it would
be kind of a trial to thing, just so you could see if you’re ready for whole
concerts or not.”
“Just so I could prove to you guys that
I am,” Nick corrected, but really, he liked the idea. And not just because it would be a way to
prove himself to them. “Seriously
though, Kev, I like that idea. And doing
it for charity or whatever would be cool.”
“Yeah?
You like that?”
“Yeah,” replied Nick, his mind racing
with ideas now. “You know, maybe we
could make it a free concert for sick kids – like kids with cancer – or… or
kids with, you know, disabilities and stuff.
I mean, I feel like I have something in common with kids like that now…
it would be a good way to give back.”
“That’s a great idea!” came Kevin’s
enthusiastic response. “We could fly the
kids in from all over; I’m sure we could get names from the Make-a-Wish
Foundation or St. Jude or something like that.
Or we could do the concert in Florida and invite kids from your neck of
the woods to come. You know some of the
staff at the hospital pretty well by now; maybe they could help.”
“I bet Claire could help us too,” Nick
added. “She goes and reads to the little
kids in Oncology sometimes; she probably knows a lot of people.”
“I should call Brian and tell him all
this,” said Kevin. “I don’t know what
kind of limits you want to put on what kind of people could come to the thing,
but with his Healthy Heart Club, I’m sure Bri will have some good ideas too.”
“Okay.
Hey, if you wanna get off and call Bri, I’ll call J. And Howie ain’t here – he’s in Orlando – but
he’ll probably call later to check up on me, and then I can fill him in.”
“Sounds good,” said Kevin. “I’ll let you go then, okay, bro?”
“Alright. Later, Kev.”
“Bye, Nick.”
By the time they hung up, Nick had gone
from seething to smiling. He hadn’t
gotten a definite “yes” or “no” on the tour proposition, but that didn’t
matter. He was excited by the idea of
this concert. He liked what they had
come up with and really felt as if it would be a good way to connect to some
younger people who had been through ordeals similar to his own. That’s what Brian had done by starting up his
Healthy Heart Club, and Nick had always wanted to be able to really give back
like that. Now he would be able to… and
prove himself to Kevin at the same time.
Still smiling, he picked up the phone
again to call AJ.
***