Nick woke up completely
disoriented. Taking a moment for his
senses to absorb everything around him, he became aware of the steady, rhythmic
beep of the heart monitor, which brought the previous day’s events all back to
him. He was in ICU, sick with the
flu. And at some point, he had falling
asleep. He looked around for his mother,
wanting to know the time, but she was not in the cubicle with him anymore. And, seeing as there were no windows in the
ICU, he had absolutely no idea what time of day it was or how long he had been
out.
He heard murmuring voices outside his
cubicle, and, looking in their direction, he saw the nurse from the day before,
Mersey, talking to another nurse. He
recognized the other as one of the Oncology nurses, the young pretty one for
whom he had signed an autograph.
Samantha was her name, if he remembered correctly.
Samantha glanced over him now, her
features brightening when she saw that he was awake. She and Mersey both came into his cubicle.
“I was wondering when you were going to
wake up,” Mersey said with a smile, coming up to his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Kinda crappy,” replied Nick. Totally shitty was better phrase to describe
how he was feeling. He felt shivery and
weak all over, and even though he was lying down, a slight sense of dizziness
plagued him. His chest was tight, and there
was an odd buzzing in his head.
Surprisingly, his stomach felt fairly calm, thanks to the termination of
his chemo treatments. He was grateful
for that much.
“What time is it?” he wondered.
“Just after ten.”
“Oh my God… I slept a long time then,”
said Nick in surprise.
“Yes, you did. That’s good though; it will help your body
fight the infection. Can I get you some
water or ice chips or anything?” Mersey offered.
“Water would be good,” said Nick,
licking his dry lips. Mersey nodded and
left the cubicle, and Samantha stepped forward.
“Hi,” she said. “How are they treating you up here?”
Nick smiled. “Just fine,” he assured her tiredly.
“That’s good. Well, I just wanted to let you know that
there’s someone here to see you, if you want.
Do you feel up to a visitor, or should I tell her you’re not feeling
well?”
Her? “Who is it, my mom?” Nick asked
curiously, somehow doubting it was his mother.
She came and went as she pleased; no one ever asked for his permission
to let her visit. But who else could it
be? He didn’t really have any close
female friends, his sisters were in California, his love life was now
nonexistent, and certainly they wouldn’t let a fan up to visit.
“No, I saw your mom in the cafeteria;
she’s getting breakfast,” replied Samantha.
“This is Claire Ryan; she said she’s a friend of yours?”
“Oh,” Nick said, brightening. “Yeah, let Claire in.”
“Are you sure? Because technically, only immediate family is
supposed to be allowed in here. But she
begged me to tell you she was here, and you know Claire, she just has a way
about her.”
Nick chuckled. “Yeah, I know.
Let her on in; I’ll just say she’s my sister if anyone asks.”
Samantha smiled. “Okay.
I’ll go bring her in.”
“Thanks, hon.” Nick flashed her the half-smile, causing her
to blush, and then watched as she walked quickly away, his gazed focused right
on her ass. Hm, not bad, he
thought, wondering vaguely if there was some rule about nurses and patients
having relationships.
Ha, as if. Like any woman would ever be attracted to him
now. He knew if the fans got a load of
him, of his nearly bald head, his pallid skin, and the small tube coming out of
his chest, among other things, they would be disgusted. He knew he was being shallow, but God, he
missed his looks. He had taken them for
granted, not really seeing himself as “cute” or “hot” or “fine” or “sexy” or
whatever the fans liked to call him. He
had often wondered what it was they saw in him.
He’d never really figured it out; he’d just come to realize that if he
did the half-smile or stuck his tongue out, he could get a good reaction out of
most girls, both young and old. But now,
when he looked into the mirror, he saw a hideous wreck of the man he used to
be, a deterioration of the old Nick. No
one would say he was “hot” now, and it made him yearn for the blonde hair he
had haphazardly spiked with gel every day without thought, the tan he had
gotten without really noticing just from being out in the Florida sun. It was stupid, he knew, to be thinking about
what he looked like when he was so sick.
But he couldn’t help it.
Samantha returned, Claire in tow. Her head was covered with a bandana, as
always, and today, she wore a surgical mask over her mouth and nose.
“Heya, Baldy,” she teased, blue eyes
sparkling, as she plopped down in the chair beside his bed that Jane had formerly
occupied.
“Baldy?” Nick repeated indignantly,
trying to play it off, as if the name didn’t really sting. He knew she was just playing with him, but he
was self-conscious. “Who you callin’
Baldy?” Playfully reaching up, he
quickly swiped the bandana from her head, exposing her shiny, bald scalp.
“Hey, give that back!” Claire squealed,
laughing as she grabbed the bandana from his hand. But she did not put it back on, only dropped
it to her lap.
“So, uh, what’s with the mask?” Nick
asked casually.
“Oh, well, I didn’t wanna pass any of
my cooties on to you, and I didn’t want to catch the flu from you either.”
“Oh, why not? It’s great fun,” Nick remarked
sarcastically. “You could get the
cubicle next door to me.” With a wave of
his hand, he motioned to the area on the other side of the glass partition.
“Sorry, I think I’ll pass.”
Nick smiled. “So… what are you doing up here? Came all the way to see me, did you?”
She laughed. “Not quite.
I was in oncology, and I heard one of the nurses say that you were in
ICU.”
“Oh, did you have an appointment or
something today?”
“No, I was just visiting some of the
kids there. I come up a lot when I’m not
working and hang out with them, read to them and stuff. It gets boring, you know, and the nurses and
people don’t have time to keep them occupied.”
“That’s really sweet of you,” Nick said
sincerely. “You know, it gets boring
here too…”
“Want me to read to you?” Claire
laughed. Bending down, she opened up her
bag and pulled out a thin, yellow book. “’Curious
George Flies a Kite’,” she said, holding it up.
“It’s a masterpiece.”
Nick chuckled. “So you like kids, do you?”
“Sure, love ‘em. How about you?”
“Yeah… I like kids,” Nick replied, and
his mind wandered to Brian’s son, his godson.
He hadn’t seen Baylee in months; maybe he would look into making another
visit to Atlanta when he was better and out of the hospital. He was sure Brian wouldn’t mind.
“So anyway,” Claire said, “when do you
think you’ll get out of this place?”
Nick shrugged. “I dunno… Dr. Kingsbury said probably not for
a few days.”
“That sucks. Well, I’ll come hang out with you if you
want,” she offered.
He smiled. “That would be cool. You’re a lot better to hang out with than my
mom. I dunno why, but all of a sudden,
she’s gotten very…” He searched for the
right word, “… clingy.”
Claire nodded knowingly. “Yeah, I bet.
My mom’s the same way. Good thing
she and my dad are living in Gainesville; otherwise they’d be at my place all
the time. It’s bad enough that my mom
calls almost every day, just ‘checking up on me’.”
Nick chuckled. “Well, my mom-“ And then he stopped, for as he said the
words, he noticed her walking through the ICU toward his cubicle. “Speaking of which…”
“Oh, you’re awake!” Jane exclaimed
brightly when she got inside the cubicle, hurrying over to his bed and kissing
his forehead. That was strange, for he
couldn’t remember the last time his mother had kissed him. It had been a very long time. “And who are you?” Jane asked flatly, as if
suddenly noticing Claire was sitting there with him.
“My name’s Claire Ryan,” Claire
introduced herself, offering her hand for Jane to shake.
Jane just looked at it a moment and
ignored it, asking instead, “Are you a patient here?”
“Off and on. I’m not now though. I was just here visiting some other people
and heard that Nick was up here.”
“Only family members are supposed to be
allowed back here,” Jane said coldly.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Nick broke in
quickly. “Claire’s a friend; I don’t
mind. We talked one of the nurses into
letting her come back; she’s supposedly my ‘sister’.” He smiled, but Jane did not return it.
“Um, I’d better go now anyway,” Claire
said, standing up and glancing at Nick.
He saw the uncomfortable look in her eyes and felt a flash of rage
streak through him.
“You don’t have to go,” he said
sharply, glaring at his mother and then looking back at Claire.
“No, I really should get home anyway,”
she said. “You take care of yourself,
Nick, and feel better. I’ll see you
later.” She winked, and Nick managed a
small smile, still pissed at his mother.
“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “See ya, Claire.”
Claire left, and as soon as she was out
of earshot, he turned to his mother, eyes blazing. “What the fuck was that all about?” he
demanded angrily.
“What was what about?” Jane asked
innocently and then reprimanded, “And don’t swear.”
“You know what I’m talking about. You were rude; you treated Claire like
crap. You practically kicked her out.”
“I did not,” Jane said haughtily,
nostrils flaring in indignation. “She
just didn’t look well to me, that’s all.
I didn’t want her getting sick from you.”
“Yeah right,” Nick muttered. “She didn’t look well cause she’s got cancer,
and she had a mask on specifically so she wouldn’t get sick from me. You were just treating her the way you treat
any girl you see me with.”
“Well, she’s not a whore, is
she, not like that last girlfriend of yours?”
Nick sighed heavily. “I wish you’d drop that,” he said through
gritted teeth. “And for your
information, Claire is not a stripper, and she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Good,” Jane said quickly, angering
Nick even further.
“And what is that supposed to
mean?” he spat. “Good that she’s not a
stripper, or good that she’s not my girlfriend?”
“Both,” Jane said simply.
“Why?”
“Oh, Nick, honestly!” Jane exploded,
throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“You have a reputation to uphold – what would people think if they saw
you with a girl like that?”
Nick’s mouth dropped open. He was utterly speechless – she did not
just say that. “Oh my God, Mom… get
out!”
“Nickolas-“
“No, get the fuck out of here! I cannot take this shit from you
anymore! Get out!” he screamed,
wrenching himself up into a sitting position, his chest heaving.
“Nicky, don’t, you’re getting yourself
all worked up,” Jane said fretfully.
“GET OUT!” he shouted.
Mersey, his nurse, dashed into the
cubicle. “Is there a problem?” she
asked, looking from Nick to Jane and back to Nick.
“No-“ Jane started to say, but Nick
interrupted her.
“Yes!
I want her out of here!”
Mersey nodded. “Mrs. Carter, why don’t you step outside with
me. Maybe you can go and get some
coffee, take a little break.” She put
her hand on Jane’s shoulder to guide her out, but Jane pushed her away.
“I just had coffee; I’m staying with my
son!” she protested defiantly.
“Mrs. Carter, your son has requested
some time alone. We have to obey his
wishes. Please come with me.” Again, Mersey reached out to touch Jane, but
Jane ducked away from her grasp. “Mrs.
Carter, if you don’t leave the ICU with me right now, I’ll have to call
security.”
That stopped Jane. Smoothing her clothes, she nodded and
composedly followed Mersey out of the cubicle, her head held high, refusing to
look at Nick as she left. He was glad;
he didn’t want to look at her either.
When she had disappeared, he sank back down into bed. Oh God, he really didn’t need all that. He felt truly horrible now, hot and
light-headed and short of breath. His
chest felt as if an elephant was perched on it, pressing down on his ribcage,
and it was hard to breathe.
“Are you all right, Nick?” Mersey
asked, breezing back into the cubicle.
“No,” Nick said, beginning to
cough. “I don’t feel so good,” he managed
to choke out, violent coughs racking his body.
“I can’t… breathe…” He started to
pull himself up, panicking.
“Shh, calm down…” Easing him back down, Mersey quickly pressed
a stethoscope to his chest and listened.
A look of alarm crossing her face, she said quickly, “I’ll be right
back. I need to get a doctor.” Then she ran from the cubicle, leaving him
struggling for air, terrified, well aware of the fact that something was very
wrong.
***