Chapter 44
Much of the rest
of that day was spent on the phone. The
Boys had been flooded with calls following their TRL appearance. Management was outraged that they had to find
out the news through MTV, other artists were calling with their sympathies, as
well as the guys’ families… and then there was Nick’s family.
Nick had been
dreading the call from his parents that he knew would come, and sure enough, it
came shortly after they had left MTV studios.
Sitting in silence in the back of a limo, riding to their hotel, Nick’s
cell phone rang. Flipping it open, he
sighed and answered it with a weary, “Hello?”
“Nicky!”
It was his
mother, and naturally, she sounded distraught.
It had been months since he had talked to her, months since he had hung
up on her, swearing to himself that he would never speak to her again. She had not called since, and he had not
cared, not really. And he could not
really say whether he was glad she had called now or not… in fact, he felt
completely void of any emotion as he said quietly, “Hey, Mom.”
“Nicky, please
tell me this isn’t true… Angel saw you on TV, and she called me in, and I… oh
God, Nick, this can’t be happening.”
“It is.”
“Well, why didn’t
you tell me then?!” In a flash, her
tearful, plaintive stammering had vanished, overtaken by hysterical
screaming. “I’m your mother! Why didn’t you tell me?” She was sobbing now, and he could not tell if
she was really angry with him or not.
He did not
answer, just listened guiltily to her heavy breathing and muffled cries. He felt the urge to comfort her somehow, but
what could he say? What could he
do? He was on the other side of the
country. And he had hurt her. It was his fault. He had caused this.
“I’m sorry,” he
said softly, but the words had no meaning.
“Nicky… your
father and I… we’ll… we’ll come to Florida… I’ll take care of you,” she said,
her voice shaking with tears.
“No, don’t do
that. I’m fine. I don’t need taking care of. And anyway, I’ve got the guys.” That was not exactly true, but the thought of
having his mother fussing over him, breathing down his back 24/7, was
torturous.
“No… you need
your mother!”
You’re not my
mother. The words formed in the back of his throat,
but he swallowed them away, refusing to let himself say them. He would only hurt her more. And he could not do that.
“Mom, you’ve got
the other kids to take care of in LA.
Stay there. I’ll be fine. I’ll come out and visit you sometime.”
“When?”
“I dunno, when I
can. Look, Mom, I gotta go now. Talk to you later.” He heard her start to sputter a protest, but
he terminated the conversation and snapped the phone closed, breaking off his
ties with her, shutting her out of his life.
***
The next week was
utter chaos. After a few more days in
New York together, the guys had gone their separate ways again, promising to
keep in touch and get together again later to resume work on the album. When Nick returned to Tampa, he found himself
being harassed by paparazzi on a regular basis.
He declined interviews and refused comments, not wanting to encourage
anyone, but it didn’t seem to be working.
And when the press was not calling, his family members were. Jane called almost every day, but when he
chose to answer the phone, their conversations were always short and
strained. He discovered that the line
“I’m tired; I think I’m gonna go take a nap” was a great way to blow her off.
After over a week
of staying cooped up in his house, hiding from the media, Nick was forced to
emerge. It was time for his three-week
check-up and the fourth round of chemo to begin. Oh joy.
He couldn’t have been more thrilled.
Luckily, the
paparazzi had backed off a bit, for apparently his cancer wasn’t such big news
after a week and a half, so the journey to Tampa General was fairly
uneventful. For once, Nick felt almost
comfortable going up to the Oncology floor, not terrified that he would be
recognized. So what if he was? The world knew now; it would be perfectly
acceptable for him to be seen there.
The waiting room
in the oncology department was once again fairly uncrowded, and Nick couldn’t help
but wonder if it had been arranged that way on purpose to save him from being
bothered by a bunch of other people while he waited. If it was, he had to admit he was grateful.
Glancing briefly
around the room before he took a seat, he noticed Claire, the girl he had met
twice before on the oncology floor, sitting on one side of the room, engrossed
in a copy of Redbook magazine. He
crossed the room and sat down near her, leaving one empty chair between
them. She looked up as he took a seat
and smiled. “Hi, Nick.”
“Hey,
Claire. Looks like they’ve got us on the
same schedule for doctor’s appointments.”
Claire
laughed. “Yeah, I begged my doctor to
look up what time you were supposed to come for appointments and schedule me
for the same time. I… I just can’t get
enough of you. I tried to get her to
look up your address and phone number for me too, but she wouldn’t. I’m sure I can find out where you live
though; I heard they give tours.”
Nick blinked,
completely unnerved, and couldn’t help but shift to the side of his chair
farthest away from her. Seeing the
bewildered expression on his face, Claire immediately burst out laughing. “Oh my God, relax, I’m just kidding! I’m not a stalker. As far as I know, this scheduling thing is
pure coincidence. Or maybe,” she added,
smiling suggestively, “it’s fate.”
Nick was not
quite sure what to make of that, so he just smiled and expelled a weak, “Oh.”
Claire’s
expression turned serious. “Sorry,” she
said with an apologetic smirk. “Didn’t
mean to freak you out. I was just
messing with your mind.” She
shrugged. “Gave me something to do. If you haven’t noticed, this place is
extremely boring.”
Nick
laughed. “I’ve noticed.”
“Yeah, so anyway…
I’m sorry. I’m really not a stalker… in
fact, I’m not even a fan, really. No
offense or anything. I just like ‘N Sync
a lot more.” Nick must have made some
sort of disgusted face at that comment, for she burst out laughing yet again
and added, “Just kidding. God, I can’t
stand them. I’m not really into much pop
though… I’m more of a rock person.
Sorry.”
“No, no, that’s
cool!” Nick said, relieved. “I am
too.” Then, realizing that sounded sort
of strange, considering he was a Backstreet Boy, he added, “I just sing pop. Go figure.”
“So, who’s your
favorite rock band then?” Claire asked.
“Sorry, I know your fans probably already know this by heart, but, like
I said, I’m not really a fan.” She
smiled impishly, and Nick couldn’t help but grin back.
“Probably Journey
or Nirvana,” he replied. “You?”
“Oh, that’s cool.
I like both of those groups too, but I’m
more into modern stuff lately. Linkin
Park and other bands like that.”
“Oh yeah, Linkin
Park’s great. Their new album kicks ass,
do you have that?”
“Oh yeah, bought
it the day it came out. It’s awesome!”
Another pair of
smiles were exchanged, but then, before the conversation could continue, the
door to the waiting room popped open, and a nurse stepped in. “Claire?
You can come on back now.”
“Oh yay,” Claire
remarked dryly, rolling her eyes in Nick’s direction. “Well, see ya later.”
“Yeah, see
ya. Good luck.”
Claire
smiled. “You too.” And she followed the nurse back, leaving Nick
to himself. While he used to enjoy his
privacy and solitude, especially in awkward places such as this, he now found
he actually enjoyed her company. She was
not the type of girl he would normally even give the time of day, but
exchanging small talk with her as they both waited comforted him somehow. Maybe it was because, despite the fact that
they barely knew each other and didn’t even really talk about it, he knew they
had something in common. They shared the
same curse, the curse of cancer.
***