Chapter 57
Nick was
discharged from the hospital on a Friday.
After spending eleven days in the hospital (eight more than he had
expected), he couldn’t wait to get home.
He was still weak, but the pneumonia was gone, and he was feeling much
better.
Unfortunately,
that feeling would only last another week.
He had another doctor’s appointment scheduled the following Saturday,
and he would begin his next round of chemo then. And then it was back to the nausea and
throwing up. Fun, fun – he could hardly
wait.
Nick and the rest
of the family were escorted back to his home in a limo. This was something Nick’s mother had
arranged, despite his objections.
“We’ve already
taken your car back to your house, and I don’t want you driving anyway, not
when you’re so weak,” she had told him firmly.
The family was
also now coming to stay at his house for the remainder of their time in
Florida. This, too, his mother had
arranged. In other words, she had
invited them herself.
“Why, it’s just
silly for us to be cramped in some hotel when you’ve got plenty of space for us
in your house,” she had said, leaving him no choice but to say they could. Nick really only half-minded though. He
hadn’t spent time with his brother and sisters in a long time, and it would be
nice to have them around. And as for his
parents… well, he could tolerate them for a few days, which was how much longer
he hoped they were going to stay, although he wasn’t sure.
Inside the limo,
Nick leaned back, resting his head tiredly against the seat, anxious to reach
home. The first thing he was going to do
was take a shower and wash the smell of hospital from his body. Then he was going to crash in his own
bed. God, that would feel good after
over a week of sleeping in a tiny, railed hospital bed.
Unfortunately,
things did not quite go as planned. As
soon as the limo reached the tall gates encircling Nick’s yard, he could see
that there was going to be trouble.
Camped out on the lawn in front of the gates were a whole flock of
reporters, their cameras and microphones ready.
“Oh my God,” Nick
groaned, peering out the tinted window at them all. How did they know he was coming home that
day? In fact, how did they know he was
even in the hospital? He had been
avoiding the media since long before his hospitalization, with the exception of
TRL, and as far as he knew, the only people were aware of the fact that he had
been in the hospital were his family and his friends. He hadn’t told anyone else, and he was sure
none of the people he loved would do that either. Unless…
“Just park it
here, this is fine,” Jane was telling the limo driver. “Bob, come on, let’s get out and help Nicky
out. Kids, you follow after we get Nick
out.”
“Mom?” Nick asked
through gritted teeth. “What are all
these damn reporters doing here?”
“Oh, I’m sure
they’re just here to see how you’re doing, maybe get a few comments from you,”
she replied flippantly and opened the car door before he could get another word
out. His father followed her out, and
immediately, the press swooped down on them like buzzards, thrusting microphones
in their faces, snapping pictures with cameras, video cameras filming the whole
scene.
Jane reached a
hand back into the limo and patted Nick’s knee.
The bad one. He winced as it
throbbed with her touch, but she was too caught up in the moment to notice. “Come on, honey,” she said. “Let me help you out.”
“Get them out of
here,” he protested, not budging.
“Nick, they’re
just concerned about you. You don’t have
to give them any long interviews, just a comment and a few pictures, okay? Your fans are concerned about you, you know. They want to know that you’re all right.”
“Do I look all
right to you?” Nick exploded. “God, Mom,
how blind are you? I look like a freak –
you think I want my fans to see me like this?”
“They love you,
Nick, they won’t mind,” she replied.
“Now, come on.”
“You brought all
these people here, didn’t you?” he accused.
“What the fuck are you trying to do?”
“Watch your
mouth. Of course I didn’t bring these
people here. They found out you were
being discharged and came here to wait for you; I can’t help that. But the least you could do is give them what
they’re asking for.”
“Well, how did
they find out I was being discharged?” Nick pressured. “Did a certain someone tip them off?”
“Nickolas Gene
Carter!” His mother feigned a wounded
look. “I can’t believe you think I
would-“
“Yeah, whatever,
Mom.” She had done it, he knew she
had. But it was too late now – he really
had to get inside the house, and it was apparent that these reporters weren’t
going to leave until they had caught a glimpse of him. Might as well get it over with.
Pulling his
baseball cap low over his head, he pushed away his mother’s outreaching hand
and stood up on his own accord, ducking as he climbed carefully out of the back
of the limousine. Jane’s arm came
protectively around his waist as he stood, squinting in the bright sunlight and
trying to avoid the cameras that were all focusing on him.
“Nick!” shouted
one reporter, practically shoving his mic up Nick’s nose. “Your mother tells us you were in the
hospital for cancer treatments and pneumonia.
Is that accurate?”
Nick shot Jane a
look. Yeah right, you didn’t tell
them. “Yes,” he told the reporter grudgingly. “I came down with pneumonia, but I’m better
now.” With that, he started to push his
way through the crowd, trying in vain to get to the gates, but the paparazzi
blocked his path, and his mother clutched him tightly.
“Nick, how are
your treatments going?” another reporter asked.
“Is your cancer in remission?”
I wish, he thought wistfully, ignoring the
question all together.
“Nick, have the
other Backstreet Boys been around during your ordeal? Are they being supportive?”
“Yes,” he
muttered.
“And how about
your family?”
He didn’t
answer. Jane prodded him in the ribs,
but he ignored her. Finally, she took
over, answering in a weepy voice, “Nick’s father and I brought the children all
the way from California to be with him.
We’ve been at his side day and night through this horrible ordeal.”
The reporter
nodded, a look of sympathy crossing her heavily made-up face. “I’m sure this has been very difficult on you
all, hasn’t it?”
“Oh yes,”
answered Jane emphatically. “We’ve spent
almost all our time at Nick’s side, camped out at the hospital. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months,
ever since I found out about the cancer.
You just can’t imagine what it’s like to… to…” She trailed off, her voice sounding
choked. Nick glanced down to see tears welling
in his mother’s eyes and couldn’t help but wonder if they were real, or if she
had forced them.
“I’m so very
sorry,” said the reporter, and then a younger man pushed her out of the way to
get through to Nick.
“Nick, I notice
you’re wearing a baseball cap – have you lost your hair? How do you think having cancer is going to
affect your image and the public’s opinion of you? What do the fans think?”
“Oh, fuck off!”
Nick cried, giving the man a shove. It
was a feeble attempt though, not forceful enough to knock him off his
feet. Damn.
“I’m sorry, we
need to get Nick inside now,” Jane said, her voice ringing out loudly. “He’s still very weak from his illness; I’m
sure you understand.”
Yeah, right, Nick thought, but surprisingly, the
waters parted as the reporters reluctantly backed away, clearing a path to the
gates. Bob opened them, and Jane
escorted Nick slowly through, her arm still wrapped tightly around him.
“I can walk on my
own, you know,” he hissed under his breath, annoyed with her. But she ignored him, continuing to hold on to
him until they were out of the reporters’ line of vision. Then she let go.
***