Nick
I’d been out of the hospital a month, and I still felt like
shit. Recovering from a stem cell
transplant is like having the flu, a flu that lasts for weeks on end. I was tired all the time. My body ached. I ran low-grade fevers, usually for no reason
at all, but which I had to watch and worry about, in case they meant another
infection. I had no appetite, so I kept
losing weight, even though all I did was lie around. I slept a lot.
I had gone to take a nap and was just starting to drift off when I
heard the door knock that day. I ignored
it; Cary could answer it. It was
probably one of the guys; they’d been coming over a lot lately, so she could
get out for awhile. They’d hang out with
me while she was gone, so I wouldn’t be alone.
If it was Brian or AJ, we’d probably play video games or watch something
on TV. When Kevin or Howie came, we
usually just talked. Sometimes the conversations
were one-sided; if I was really tired, they would just sit in my room with me
while I dozed. I was pretty lame
company.
Lying there with my eyes closed, I tried to think of whose turn it
would be. Brian and his family had gone
back to Georgia, so it couldn’t be him.
I thought Howie had been over the day before, or had it been two days
ago? I couldn’t remember for sure; the
days seemed to blur together, and my brain felt fuzzy. So it was probably AJ or Kevin, or maybe
Angel. She’d been coming to visit, too,
checking up on me so she could tell the rest of the family how I was
doing. They called or texted
occasionally, but besides Angel, I hadn’t seen any of them since I’d flown the
rest of my siblings in to break the news.
I heard Cary open the front door, but I couldn’t tell who was
there. I hoped it was Kevin; he would
let me sleep without having to carry on a conversation. AJ always needed to be entertained; it was
too awkward for him, otherwise, just sitting with me. He would never admit it, but I could see it
in his eyes, when he wasn’t hiding them behind his sunglasses.
Light filtered through my eyelids as it leaked into my room. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Cary
standing in the doorway. “What’s up?” I
muttered.
“You have a visitor, if you’re up for it. It’s Lauren.”
My heart skipped a beat. Lauren?
Suddenly wide awake, I scrambled up into a sitting position and reached
automatically for my beanie, which I’d taken off to sleep. I put it back on, fully aware of how freaky I
looked without hair. “For real?” I
asked, running my hand over the top of my head.
The hat hugged it like a security blanket, soft and warm.
Cary nodded. “I can tell
her you’re still asleep, if you want. Or
I can just say you’re not up to having visitors, if you don’t want to see her.”
I thought about it. It must
have taken Lauren a lot of nerve to show up here, after dumping me back in
January. She was probably feeling bad
about it, now that she knew I was sick.
Facing her was going to be awkward, but it would be worse if I
didn’t. I hadn’t seen her in months, not
since I’d gotten my diagnosis, but I couldn’t avoid her forever. “No, it’s okay,” I finally replied. “You can send her in.”
While Cary went to get Lauren, I sat up in bed. I smoothed the wrinkles out of my
t-shirt. I tugged my hat further down
over my forehead. I fiddled with the
covers. When I heard footsteps
approaching my room, I looked up.
“Hey, Nick…” Lauren smiled
shyly at me from the doorway.
My heart skipped another beat.
My stomach dropped. I swallowed
the hard lump that had swelled up in my throat and croaked, “Hey… come on in.”
Without even thinking about it, I patted a spot on my bed, but
Lauren sank into the chair next to it instead.
She sat stiffly, with her legs tight together and her hands folded in
her lap. I could tell she was
uncomfortable.
“How are you?” I asked first, to break the ice.
“Oh, pretty good... How are
you doing?”
I snorted. “Never better.”
Sometimes I can’t help being kind of an asshole.
I watched her eyes drop and her face get red, and for a few
seconds, I delighted in making her even more uncomfortable. Then I said, “Nah, I’m… alright, I
guess. Getting better, anyway.”
Lauren glanced up. “Good,”
she said. “I’m glad. I… I’ve been worried about you, ever since I
heard. I wanted to visit you in the
hospital, but I didn’t know if… I wasn’t sure if you could have visitors or
anything.”
I was sure that wasn’t the only reason she hadn’t visited, but I
didn’t hold it against her. “Yeah, I’m
not supposed to be around a lot of people.
My immune system’s still pretty weak.”
She nodded, looking down at her hands again. I watched her twist them around in her lap
for a few seconds, as we fell back into awkward silence. I could tell she didn’t know what to say
next, and neither did I. What are you
supposed to say to the girl who dumped you right before you got cancer and then
came crawling back when she found out you were sick? I was trying not to be bitter about it, not
to feel sorry for myself, but it was tough.
Part of me wanted to make her feel bad.
The other part of me, the part that still loved her, searched for
something to say that would make the situation less awkward.
I settled for changing the subject. “So,” I said, trying to sound casual, “You
dating anyone these days?”
I don’t think the question did much to ease the tension. If anything, it probably made her feel even
more awkward when she had to answer, “Sort of, yeah… I’ve been seeing this guy, Derrick, for a few
months. He’s a bodybuilder.”
I nodded. She’d met him
through one of her fitness competitions, no doubt. He was probably in better shape than I’d ever
be, with or without cancer.
“How about you and Cary?” she asked. “You guys are a couple, right?”
“Yeah… She’s cool,” I said.
Lauren smiled. “She seems
nice. I’m glad you’re not going through
this alone.”
I thought back to the first couple of months after my diagnosis,
when I’d hid it from everyone. Then I
smiled back at Lauren. “Yeah, me too.”
A few seconds passed in silence.
Neither of us spoke. I was
messing with the edge of my sheet again when, finally, I heard Lauren say, “So…
are you still bald under there?”
I looked up to see her grinning, and weirdly enough, though that
question might have rattled me coming from anyone else, it actually relaxed
me. It was her smile… not the polite
smile she’d been forcing onto her face, but the teasing grin I loved. It reminded me of how things used to be, how
comfortable we used to be around each other, how much fun we’d had together.
I smirked. “See for
yourself.”
She stood up, reached over, and swiped the hat off my head. My hair hadn’t started growing back yet; I
was still as bald as a baby’s butt underneath it. “Wow,” said Lauren in a low voice, running
her hand over the top of my head. “It’s
really smooth.”
“Wait till the hair starts coming back in; then it’ll feel like
your prickly cactus legs.”
“Hey now!” she squawked, giggling.
“For your information, I shaved them this morning.” And before I knew it, she’d flung one of her
legs up onto my mattress, so I could feel how soft and smooth it was. Lauren had killer legs; I swallowed hard,
remembering all the times I’d sat with them in my lap, rubbing her calves while
we watched TV. But she seemed to realize
she’d crossed a line, because she pulled her leg down quickly, before I was
tempted to touch it. “You have a
nice-shaped head, you know,” she said suddenly, bringing us back to the subject
of my hair, or lack thereof.
“Thanks.” I let her rub my
head for a few more seconds, before I jammed the hat back on. I felt exposed, almost naked without it. “I don’t think it’s a look I’ll keep, though.
When my hair comes back, I’m gonna let
it grow to my shoulders.”
“Nice,” she giggled, returning to her chair. Then, suddenly, her face turned serious
again. “So, does that mean… I mean, are
you done with your treatments, then?” she asked.
“Basically. The tough
stuff, anyway. I’m still on maintenance
chemo for two more years, but after everything else, that’s nothing, just a
bunch of pills, really. The side effects
aren’t bad, not like this.” I gestured
at my head.
She nodded, back to the polite smile. “That’s good. So… the chemo and everything worked?”
“Yeah, I’m in remission.
Just gotta stay that way until I’m recovered from this stupid stem cell
transplant.”
“Awesome… I’m really glad to hear it, Nick. I hope you have a speedy recovery.” Before I could laugh in her face and tell her
how long and slow it had been so far, she abruptly stood up. “I should get going, so you can finish your
nap. Thanks for letting me visit; it was
really good to see you.”
“You too,” I echoed hollowly, not sure what else to say.
She smiled and leaned in, pulling off my beanie again. Before I could protest, she bent down and
kissed me, right on the top of my head.
“Take care, Nick,” she whispered.
Then she dropped the hat into my lap, turned, and walked out.
I watched her leave, but she didn’t look back. I knew then, somehow, that it was the last
time I’d see her. I heard Cary let her
out, and I waited, expecting Cary to run straight back to my room to find out
what Lauren had wanted.
But she didn’t. Sweeping
orchestra music was coming from the living room, so she must have still been
watching Gone With the Wind. I lay back down, listening to it with my eyes
closed. Even with Lauren on my mind, it
only took me a few minutes to fall asleep.
***
I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke up, Gone With the Wind was still going. I wandered out to the living room, where I
could hear the characters arguing with each other on the TV, and found Cary
stretched out on the couch, sound asleep.
Her mouth was hanging half-open, a little string of drool connecting it
to the couch cushion she had tucked under one arm. I smiled at her, glad to know I wasn’t the
only one who couldn’t make it through a four-hour movie.
I left her snoozing and went into my music room, which doubled as
an office. I sat down at my desk, opened
one of its drawers, and pulled out my songwriting notebook. I hadn’t looked at it in months, but with my
thoughts still on Lauren, I opened it up and started turning the pages,
skimming over the song lyrics I’d scribbled and scratched out. Some of them were still pretty bad, but I’d
come a long way as a songwriter since Now
or Never. Some of them were actually
pretty good.
I stopped on one page in particular, a song I’d written about Lauren
during a break between tours. I read the
lyrics carefully, remembering how relaxed and at peace with the world I’d felt
when I had written them.
I climbed the
highest mountain, was on top of the world,
Then it came
crashing down.
And all the fame and
fortune turned to dust and dirt,
Couldn’t turn it
back around.
Many days felt
helpless,
Many nights full
of sadness,
Maybe it’s meant
to be…
The words still struck a chord in me, and soon I was singing them
to myself. “I got nothing… nothing left to lose.
I got freedom… but most of all, you.
We could be anything we want, just let go in each other’s arms, no more
lonely nights in dirty hotel rooms. We
got love, and we got time, just remain on each other’s minds. We could leave it all behind and start anew,
as long as I got you.”
But it was painful to sing those words, which held the memory of
everything I had lost in the last
year, from freedom and time to the woman I’d loved enough to put in a
song. I let my voice taper off and
started to turn the page, until a soft voice said, “Don’t stop.”
I jumped, startled, and looked up.
Cary was leaning in the doorway, a smile on her face. “I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just heard you singing, and… well, I couldn’t
help but listen in.” She offered a
sheepish shrug, still smiling. “Nick,
that was beautiful! The lyrics were so sweet, what I could hear of them,
anyway. Will you let me read them?” She stepped into the room, looking hopeful.
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” I said, handing her the open notebook. I watched her closely as she read. Her whole face was pink and shining, a smile
still playing on her lips as they mouthed my lyrics, and with a jolt to the
stomach, that was when it hit me: Oh shit… She thinks the song’s about her.
Sure enough, when she looked up, she was beaming at me. “I love it,” she gushed, handing the notebook
back. “Will you sing it again? I’d love to hear how the whole thing goes.”
“Um... well, to be honest…”
What was I supposed to say? “…I’d
rather have you hear it when it’s all done and recorded and everything,” I lied
lamely.
I expected her to be disappointed, but instead, her eyes lit
up. “Are you thinking of recording
soon?”
I shifted in my chair. “I
dunno… maybe?” That was an honest
answer. The truth was, I hadn’t thought
about singing in weeks, but suddenly, sitting there surrounded by my equipment,
with my songbook in my lap and Cary all set to cheer me on, it didn’t seem like
a bad idea. Maybe I should start working
on my solo album again, as long as I was stuck here with nothing better to
do. I could write while I was lying in
bed, play around with my instruments when I was up and about, maybe even hit
the recording studio when I felt up to it.
“You should,” said Cary encouragingly. “You need a project, something to take your
mind off the misery. It’d be good for
you. I mean, maybe you just hid it better
before, but it seemed like you were happier when we were on tour, even on the
worst chemo days.”
She was right about that. I
had been happier then. I couldn’t
imagine being on tour now, trying to travel and perform when I felt as drained
as I did, but somehow, I had managed it then.
It hadn’t been easy, but I’d made it possible. It was just a case of mind over matter. On tour was where I had wanted to be, and
performing had given me something to live for, a reason to push through the
pain and fight the fatigue. I couldn’t
let it beat me down anymore. I had to
find some way to get over this, even if it meant just working in short spurts
at first, until I built up my stamina again.
I smiled up at her. “Maybe
I will. God knows I’ve got enough
material down in here to get started with,” I added, patting the notebook.
“Anything you’re willing to share?”
“Uh…” I turned the page and
saw the lyrics to a song called “Falling Down,” which I’d written after the
break-up with Lauren. I wasn’t ready to
share that one with anyone yet; it was too personal and too raw. I quickly flipped back a couple of pages,
landing on a snippet of a different song I’d started and never finished. It was more generic, more upbeat. It would do.
“Yeah,” I said, “there’s this one…
It’s not finished, though; I’ve only got one verse and a chorus.”
“That’s okay. I’d love to
hear what it sounds like so far,” she replied eagerly.
“Okay… gimme a sec.” Even
though this was a love song, I had always imagined it as an uptempo, with a
driving drumbeat. I sat down at my
drumset and put my foot on the bass drum pedal, kicking out a steady
eight-count. “Here I go… uh-oh,” I sang along to that, bobbing my head in time
with the beat. “Can’t get you out of my head.
Blowing up… your phone… just to hear you breathing. You run away, run away… but that’s okay. Girl, we can play, make believe in this
fantasy. I’ll be the king that you need,
treat you like a queen. You’ll be my
everything. But I won’t stop… until…
you’re… mine. So just let go… and hold…
on… tight. ‘Cause I’m falling in love
again… I’m falling in love again… I’m falling in love again… so don’t stop,
baby, ‘cause I’m falling in love again…”
I stopped drumming abruptly and looked up. “That’s all I got,” I said, shrugging.
Cary clapped her hands, looking delighted. “I love it!
It’s so cute!”
I didn’t know if “cute” was really what I’d been going for, but I
appreciated her enthusiasm anyway.
“Thanks. Any ideas for a second
verse?”
She blinked. “Really? You’re asking me?”
I laughed. “Don’t act so
surprised. You’re a musician, aren’t
you? You’ve written songs. Maybe you can help me write this one.” Secretly, I thought, That’ll make up for “Nothing Left to Lose.”
Cary blushed. “Well… I
guess I could try,” she said doubtfully.
“I don’t think I can come up with something on the spot, in front of
you, though. Can I borrow your notebook
so I have the lyrics you’ve got so far?”
“I’ll copy them for you,” I offered, slapping the page down onto
my scanner before she could stop me. I
printed her out a copy and turned her loose in the music room, while I took my notebook
and guitar back to my bedroom. For the
next hour, while I poured over song lyrics
and played my guitar, I could hear the muffled strains of her singing,
tinkering on my keyboard or strumming her ukulele to accompany herself.
I didn’t really expect much to come out of it, to be honest, but
after an hour or so, I heard her holler, “Hey, Nick!”
“What’s up?” I replied, poking my head back into the music room.
“Oh good, you’re still up!”
She beamed at me. “I wrote a
verse! I know it’s not perfect or
anything; I’m not even sure if you’ll like it,” she added quickly, “but see
what you think.”
She held out a piece of paper, but I shook my head and said, “Oh
no… it’s no good if I just read the words.”
I grinned at her. “I heard you in
here singing. C’mon, let’s hear it.”
Cary blushed again furiously, but finally, she nodded. “Well, alright… Don’t judge me too harshly,
though.”
“Just sing the damn song!” I growled. She grinned.
“Alright, alright… here goes.”
She picked up her ukulele and started strumming, to set her tempo and
key. Then, in her soft, sweet voice, she
sang a different set of lyrics to the same melody I’d sung for her
earlier. “Uh-oh… Now I know it’s really happening. Staring at… his face… wondering what he’s
dreaming…”
I felt myself smiling. The
song sounded totally different in her voice, set to a ukulele instead of a
drumbeat, but I liked it.
“I stay awake,
stay awake… all night… ‘cause I’m afraid he won’t be there in the
daylight. I’m so amazed, but I gotta
play my cards right. Don’t wanna make
the wrong move. But I won’t stop… until…
you’re… mine…”
As she launched back into the chorus I’d written, I added my voice
to hers. “So just let go… and hold… on… tight…”
“‘Cause I’m
falling in love again…” we sang together, and I winked as she grinned at me. “I’m
falling in love again… I’m falling in love again… so don’t stop, baby, ‘cause
I’m falling in love again.”
“I love it,” I said, the instant she stopped strumming. “It fits perfectly. I mean, once you change the ‘his’ and ‘he’ to
‘her’ and ‘she.’”
She giggled. “Oh yeah… of
course! I just sang it that way so-”
“-so I wouldn’t tease you about having lesbian fantasies?” I cut
in, smirking at her. “Smart decision.”
She laughed again, her face glowing. It was nice to know that, even now, I could
still make her blush. I was glad; she
was always prettiest that way.
“C’mere,” I said, reaching for her hand and pulling her to
me. “You know I’m gonna have to give you
writing credits on my solo album now,” I said, as I wrapped my arms around her
waist.
“So you’re really serious about doing it?” she asked, smiling up
at me.
I nodded. “I think so. You’re right… I need a project.”
She hugged me tightly.
“Good. I miss that Nick.”
“Me too,” I agreed, resting my chin on the top of her head. As I stood there, inhaling the scent of her
shampoo, it occurred to me that I’d never been able to do that with Lauren –
those killer legs of hers were just too long.
Cary’s compact little body fit perfectly in my arms, while her words
echoed in my head. That Nick…
I hadn’t felt like “that Nick” in a long time. But if anything could bring me back to my old
self and make me forget I’d ever had cancer, music could. It was the reason I’d toured, and it was the
motivation I needed to get going on the solo record I’d all but given up
on. Music was my life, and I was ready
to get that life back.
“You wanna keep playing, or are you ready for dinner?” asked Cary,
when she pulled away. Before I could
answer, her stomach growled loudly, letting me know which option she was hoping
I’d choose.
I laughed along with her.
“Dinner, definitely.” But the
hunger in my belly didn’t have much to do with food.
“What do you feel like?” she asked, taking my hand and towing me
into the kitchen.
The question was the same every night, and so was my answer: “I don’t care. Whatever you feel like making.” I never had much of an appetite, but she
always put forth the effort to feed me, so I forced myself to eat what she
cooked.
“Hm… maybe I’ll do a homemade pizza. How does that sound? And I think I slept through half of Gone With the Wind, so if you wanna try
watching it again tonight, I’m game.
Whatever you wanna do.”
I chuckled. “Frankly, my
dear, I don’t give a damn.”
***