Chapter
144
The next two weeks passed quickly, and before Nick knew it, the
concert was only days away. Everything
had fallen into place though, and if all went as expected, the concert would go
off with a hitch. And Nick was
determined to make sure that it did.
Maybe a little too determined.
Monday morning found him sitting at his computer, eyes scanning
the Google search he’d done intently.
His concentration was broken by the shrill ring of the phone. Startled, he groaned audibly and reached for
the cordless, checking the caller ID before he decided whether or not to answer
the call. Claire’s cell phone number was
displayed in the window on the phone, and he answered immediately, his
annoyance vanishing. “Hello?”
“Nick, hey!”
He frowned; even in those two words, she sounded strange. Worked up about something, though he could
not tell if that something was good or bad.
“Hey, what’s up?” he questioned.
“Well… I’m, uh, kind of frazzled at the moment, so I’ll try to
keep this short. You remember my friend
Jamie that I told you about? The one
that lives in Iowa? Well, his dad had a
heart attack this morning…”
Nick drew in a breath, his stomach clenching.
“… and it’s… well, it’s pretty bad. He’s not doing well at all, and… Jamie’s not
sure if he’s going to make it. He’s a wreck, and he called me at work,
and… well, I’m on the way back to my apartment to pack, and then I’m going up
there,” she finished in a rush.
Nick blinked. “Wait, up there? You mean to Iowa? You’re going to Iowa?!”
“I have to, Nick. Jamie
really needs me right now, and he and his dad both mean a lot to me... I want
to be there for their family. You understand,
right?”
“S-sure,” he answered – as if he was going to say anything
else. But then, he just couldn’t stop
himself… “But Claire… it’s Monday. The concert’s on Saturday. A-are you going to be ba-“
“Oh, Nick, of course I will!
I promised you I’d be there, and I’ll be there!” she exclaimed
earnestly. “I’m just going up for a
couple days or so… maybe a little longer if I need to, but I promise, I’ll be
back by Saturday.”
“Okay,” he said uncertainly.
“Um… so are you driving or flying or what?”
“Flying. I already started
calling airlines from work and got a seat for a flight that leaves later this
afternoon.”
“That was lucky.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.
Thank God for small miracles, huh?”
She laughed shrilly.
He forced a rueful chuckle.
“Yeah, for sure.”
“So… so, um, what are you up to?”
He made a face – was she just making conversation now? What did it matter what he was up to? “Just surfing
the net,” he replied vaguely, eyes returning to the website that had come up on
his monitor.
“Cool… okay, well, I’m almost home, so I’m gonna let you go now,
okay? I just wanted to let you know…”
“Thanks for calling,” he said.
“Have a safe flight, ‘kay? And
um… I hope his dad will be okay… I’ll be thinking about him.” More likely he would be thinking about her and how she was with the guy in Iowa,
instead of here with him.
“Thanks, Nick. I’ll call
you from Iowa, alright? Bye.” She ended the phone call quickly, before he
could get a goodbye in, leaving him to listen to nothing but silence on the
other end of the line. He sighed and
then punched the end button, slowly returning the phone to its cradle. He sat staring at it for a minute. So in a matter of hours, Claire would be
several states and many miles away. He
was not sure why that bothered him so much, but it did. Maybe it was because she was going to see her
old boyfriend. Maybe it was because the
concert was in five days, and he was afraid she would not be back in time to
attend it like she had promised.
He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He was being selfish.
He looked back at his computer, at the site he’d clicked on. “No,” he said aloud, shaking his head, “I’m
not selfish. I’m being anything but selfish right now…” He skimmed over the contents of the page,
entitled “Cough Remedies.” It contained
a whole variety of different ways to relieve a cough, and he read through them
hopefully. Maybe something on this page
would make him better, if only temporary, if only long enough to get through
the rest of the week and, most importantly, the concert.
The truth was, he was sick.
How sick, he did not know, but he had a feeling it went beyond a simple
cold. The cold he’d had back in October
had gone away, but the cough that had accompanied it had not, and now, over a
month later, it still lingered. If
anything, it was worse. And despite all
his assurances of “I’m fine!” to the other guys whenever one of them noticed
and questioned him about it, he was beginning to get worried. A cough shouldn’t last a month… a month and a
half… two months… however long it had been.
He was no rocket scientist, but even he knew that much. And on top of that, he’d been experiencing
other symptoms… a tight feeling in his chest, which sometimes turned to pain
when he took deep breaths… and breathlessness at times when he should not feel
winded. This was more than the common
cold, and he feared that the cold had developed into something worse. Bronchitis, maybe. Or even worse, pneumonia.
That possibility really scared him. The last time he’d had pneumonia, he’d ended
up in ICU with a tube down his throat.
That wasn’t exactly a good time and definitely not something he wanted
to repeat anytime soon. But the symptoms
he was experiencing now – the cough, the pain in his chest, the shortness of
breath – all reminded him of how he had felt when he was in the hospital that
time.
He had a feeling that’s where he should be right now – at the
hospital, so that someone could tell him what was wrong and make it go
away. But with the concert in five days,
he was not about to schedule an appointment now. If he did have pneumonia, they would probably
want to admit him for at least a few days, and then the concert would have to
be postponed. And that would screw
everything up. So he decided he would
just have to tough it out till after the concert. He could go to the doctor next week, when his
schedule was cleared again.
In his mind, he could hear Kevin getting after him. “Your health is more important than anything;
it has to come first.”
Luckily, Kevin did not know how he had
been feeling. None of the guys did.
It reminded Nick of when they’d been
working on the album, shortly after he had first been diagnosed. The excuses… the cover-ups… the lies. He’d hidden his symptoms from them then, and
he was doing the same thing now. And
with their attention focused solely on the concert on Saturday, no one seemed
to notice, not even Kevin.
In the meantime, Nick was trying to
find more ways to mask the signs, the coughing in particular. It was the one that gave him away most often,
the one that made them question him about how he was feeling. “I’m fine; just got something in my throat,”
he would say, or, “I’m fine; it’s just leftover from that cold. Looks like cold season’s gonna be bad this
year.” But the more he coughed, the more
they would see that he was not fine. And
then they would begin to notice other things, like how singing just a few songs
in a row would leave him out of breath.
So he had to at least keep the coughing at bay. He kept a bottle of cough syrup in the
medicine cabinet at home and a bag of cough drops in his bag at rehearsal,
constantly relying on both when no one was looking.
The website he was looking at now suggested other remedies –
everything from drinking grape juice and honey to sucking on sugar cubes. He jotted down a few of the least
disgusting-sounding antidotes on a scrap of paper and shoved it into his pocket
for future use, hastily clicking off of the site just as Howie poked his head
into the office.
“Was that Claire on the phone?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Nick said flatly.
“She’s going to Iowa.”
“Iowa?” Howie repeated.
“When?”
“Now.”
“Why?”
“Her ex-boyfriend’s dad had a heart attack, and she’s going up
there to be with them.”
“For how long?”
“Don’t know. She said she’d
be back by Saturday.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Nick nodded absently. She
had just better keep her promise. He
knew she was doing a good thing by going to comfort her friend, but here he was
doing everything to assure that the show would go on, and if she wasn’t back in
time for it, it would ruin everything.
Okay, maybe not everything,
but it would sure ruin his solo. Singing
“Open Arms” would just not be the same without her standing in the front row,
where he could smile down at her from the stage.
“Hey, Nick, don’t worry,” said Howie, seeming to notice Nick’s
mannerisms. “If she said she’ll be here,
she’ll be here.”
Nick nodded again, more confidently this time. Howie was right. Claire had never let him down before. She was always there for him when he needed
her, and if she said she’d be back by Saturday, she would be. Simple as that.
***
Nick heard from Claire twice more that week, once when she got to
Iowa on Monday and again the next day.
“Jamie’s dad passed away last night,” she’d told him tearfully on
Tuesday.
“Oh… I’m so sorry,” he’d replied, wishing the tone of his voice
could match the pain in hers. But how
could it – he hadn’t even known this guy.
“Thanks,” said Claire. “Um,
so anyway, the visitation is going to be Thursday evening, and the funeral’s
Friday afternoon. I’m going to stick
around for that. I’ve already booked a
flight back to Tampa for Saturday morning, so don’t worry, I’ll still be back
in time for your concert.”
“Oh… okay. Um, sounds
good.”
So, with the promise of Claire’s return on Saturday, Nick went
through the rest of the week, throwing himself into the last rehearsals with
the guys before the concert, while chugging lemon juice and honey in an effort
to keep his cough suppressed and his voice intact.
On Saturday, he woke up at the crack of dawn and could not fall
back to sleep, his nerves getting the better of him. He got up and found AJ and Kevin already
sitting around his kitchen table, eating breakfast.
“Mornin’, Nick,” Kevin greeted him.
“Hey,” Nick said. “So you
guys couldn’t sleep anymore either?”
“Nah, I’m too wired,” AJ admitted, grinning. “You too?”
Nick smiled. “Yeah,” he
replied. “I’m excited.” He grabbed a bagel and smeared a liberal amount
of cream cheese on it, but by the time he joined the others at the table, he
realized he really was not hungry. He
nibbled at the bagel anyway, figuring if he didn’t, he’d get some spiel from
Kevin about how breakfast was the most important meal of the day.
By eight o’clock, Howie and Brian were up as well, and the five of
them sat around the table together for a long time, talking and drinking
coffee. They didn’t have to be at the
theater till that afternoon, so they had lots of time to kill before they had
to leave.
Nick was on his third cup of coffee when the phone rang. Howie was closest to the phone, so he grabbed
it and answered. “Hello?” A slight smile appeared on his lips, and he
looked at Nick as he said, “Oh hey, Claire.”
Nick thrust out his hand, silently demanding the phone, but Howie didn’t
give it to him right away. Instead, he
pressed the phone even closer to his ear, his forehead creasing as he listened
intently. The smile on his face quickly
morphed into a frown. “Oh no,” he said,
“Well, that really sucks.”
“What is it?” Nick demanded, but Howie just glanced at him and
shook his head.
“Oh, I know,” Howie went on to Claire. “He’ll understand. It’s not like there’s anything you can do
about it anyway. … Well, good luck with that.
Call Nicky or one of us later to fill us in, would you? Yeah, he’ll want to know. Okay.
Okay, bye, Claire.”
“What was that all about?” Nick cried, as Howie hung up the
phone. But he already knew. “She’s not coming, is she?” he asked dully.
“She’s trying, Nick,” said Howie, “but apparently it’s snowing
pretty bad up there. Her flight was
delayed.”
Nick sighed loudly. “Can
she get another flight?” He was trying
not to sound whiny, but it was hard to hold back his disappointment.
“She’s trying, but everything’s delayed. I told her to call later to let us know if
she has a flight or is still waiting or what.”
Nick nodded silently.
Meanwhile, AJ got up and turned on the small TV in the kitchen, tuning
in to the Weather Channel.
“… Meanwhile, the Midwest is being hit with snowstorms. Across Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana, residents
are expecting anywhere from eight inches to over a foot of snow. Air travel has been restricted as most
flights departing from or arriving in these areas have been delayed or
cancelled. Those traveling by automobile
should be cautious, as the roads could be icy.”
The picture cut from the weatherman standing in front of a map of the
United States to footage of cars traveling along one of the interstates,
practically lost in the thick blizzard of snow that was falling up north.
Nick shook his head.
“Snow,” he muttered in disgust, “I hate it.”
“You would, Florida Boy,” Brian smirked. “It’ll suck if Claire can’t make it back in
time, but it’s not the end of the world.
They’re showing the concert on TV in a couple of weeks anyway; she can
see it then.”
It’s not the
same though, Nick thought, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah, true,” he mumbled. Sighing, he picked up his coffee mug and took
a sip. He almost ended up spitting out
the hot liquid as he was hit with a sudden coughing fit, but managed to swallow
just in time.
“You alright, Nick?” Kevin asked worriedly, as Nick covered his
mouth and coughed loudly.
“Yeah,” Nick choked, panting.
“Just, uh… just swallowed wrong.”
He coughed once more for measure, and then, satisfied that the fit was
over, went back to his coffee.
***
“Lookin’ back
on the things I’ve done
I was trying
to be someone
Played my
part and kept you in the dark
Now let me
show you the shape of my heart…”
“I’m here
with my confession
Got nothing
to hide no more
I don’t know
where to start
But to show
you the shape of my heart…”
“Okay, that’s enough, fellas!” Kevin announced, as the group
launched back into the chorus of “Shape of My Heart.” “AJ – stop!”
AJ finally cut off, grinning at the annoyed expression on Kevin’s
face. When Kevin got stressed out, Kevin
got irritable, and Kevin was definitely stressed out at the moment. The meet and greet prior to the concert
started in an hour, and they were in the midst of a sound check and last-minute
rehearsal, running through snippets of the songs they planned to perform later
that night, while their crew made sure that all the equipment was working
properly.
“Nick! Hey, Nick!”
Nick, who had quickly gone from singing to spacing out,
jumped. “What??”
“Why are you singing all breathy like that? Please tell me you’re just trying to save
your voice,” Kevin said, his forehead creased with frown lines.
Nick scowled. “Yeah, Kev,
I’m saving my voice,” he muttered and coughed a little for good measure, which
backfired on him by leading into a whole fit of real coughs. Brian reached out and slapped him on the back
until he finally stopped, red-faced and gasping for breath.
Kevin’s frown lines deepened.
“Are you all right, Nick?” he asked, his tone softening. “Are you getting another cold already? You’re like a cold magnet all of a
sudden. Should you even be singing
tonight?”
“I’m fine,” Nick croaked, swallowing hard. “Not like I haven’t sang with a cold
before.” He pasted on a smile that felt
more like a grimace.
Kevin didn’t return the smile.
“But a cold isn’t just ‘a cold’ anymore for you, Nick. If your blood counts are still out of whack
from the chemo, your immune system could still be off, and you know what that
means. It could develop into something
more serious than just a cold.”
Nick knew he was probably right, but he scowled even more and
retorted, “Kev, the last dose of chemo I had was in June! That was six months
ago! Everything should be fine by now.”
“But it’s not fine,” Kevin argued.
“You’re not fine, Nick. How long have you been coughing like
this? It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”
“Since October,” Brian spoke up.
“You had a cold in October too, remember? When you came to visit?”
Nick suddenly felt like a caged animal. Damn Brian for siding with his cousin. When it came to serious issues, he always
did. Damn them both. “Yeah, so?” he said defensively. “This is a different cold. You know me, I’ve always had a knack for
attracting colds, even before I got freaking cancer. This is nothing new, okay, so you don’t have
to worry. I feel fine.” And really, he didn’t feel that bad. A little light-headed, maybe, and his chest
sort of hurt whenever he took in a deep breath to sing. But other than that, he was okay. And if need be, he’d go to the doctor next
week and get some antibiotics to clear up whatever this was.
Kevin sighed. “Fine, Nick,”
he muttered, looking thoroughly unsatisfied, but apparently deciding not to
push the issue. What were they going to
do anyway – postpone the concert? Yeah,
and end up having to pay out the ass to fly home all the disappointed families
that had flown in for the concert, not to mention deal with the people at CBS
who were all set to tape the show that night.
Just not have Nick sing?
Riiiiight – he was the whole
reason they were doing this!
There was really no way out; the show had to go on. Nick would sing, and Kevin would deal with
it. There was no other choice.
“Just please say something if you start to feel worse, okay?”
Brian requested quietly, touching Nick’s shoulder.
“I will,” promised Nick, but he knew it would take a lot for that
to happen.
“Okay,” Kevin sighed.
“Let’s just go on, okay? Let’s
hit the chorus of ‘More Than That’.
Nick, you feel like going into your solo?”
“Sure,” Nick said quickly.
“Okay. First chorus and
into Nick’s verse then, guys.”
They sang the chorus, and when Nick’s solo came up, he sucked in a
deep breath, wincing, and gave it his all, trying not to sound ‘breathy,’ like
he had apparently sounded earlier.
“Baby, you
deserve much better
What’s the
use in holding on?
Don’t you see
it’s now or never?
Cause I just
can’t be friends
Baby, knowing
in-“
Nick immediately trailed off when he heard the familiar ring of
his cell phone chirping at him from across the stage. “Hold up,” he said, sliding off of his stool
and taking off across the stage as fast he could. He squatted down in front of his sports bag,
almost toppling over in the process, and quickly dug through it in search of
the ringing phone, only hoping he could get to it in time. “Gotcha!” he exclaimed triumphantly, his hand
sliding around the tiny silver phone. He
hardly glanced at the caller ID before quickly punching the phone on and
answering breathlessly, “Hello?”
“Hey! Bad time?” Her voice crackled over a bad connection, but
he would still recognize it anywhere.
“Hey, Claire,” he said with a relieved smile, stretching out on
the stage floor. “No, it’s not a bad
time at all. Where are you??” Please,
he thought desperately, please be on your
way home.
She sighed loudly. “Still
at this damn airport in the middle of this damn snowstorm,” she ranted. “Nick… I’m not gonna make it.”
His heart sank. “There’s…
there’s no way, is there?”
“No. Even if I hopped on a
plane right now, it’s still like a four-hour flight. I’m not gonna get in till later tonight at
the earliest.” Now it was his turn to
sigh, unable to conceal his disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Nick,” she went on.
“You know how much I wanted to be there.
I feel terrible.”
Yeah, well so did he. But
he knew there was nothing she could do about it, so he muttered, “It’s okay,
Claire. You can watch it on TV.”
“We’ll watch it together, okay?
I promise,” she vowed.
“Whatever.” You promised you’d be here, and you’re not.
“Nick… I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Ugh, you’re breaking up… I think this connection is gonna
go. Listen, I’ll let you go finish
getting ready, okay? Good luck
tonight! I’d tell you to break a leg,
but…”
He snickered despite himself.
“Only got one to break. That
wouldn’t be good.” The connection cut in
and out, but he could still hear her giggling on the other end. The sound made him smile. If only she could be here giggling with him
now. If only she could stand down in the
front row and giggle like that while he poured his heart into the “boyband”
songs she despised.
But she couldn’t, and there wasn’t a damn thing either of them
could do about it. Sighing again, Nick
said, “Well, I better go now.”
“Yeah… you go and sing pretty, ‘kay? I’ll be thinking about you tonight.”
Nick smiled. “Thanks. Bye, Claire.”
She hung up, but he stayed on the line, listening to dead air, not
wanting to close the connection quite yet.
He swallowed hard and, knowing she couldn’t hear him, whispered, “I’ll
be thinking about you too.”
***
Lyrics:
“Shape of My Heart” and “More Than That” by the Backstreet Boys