- Text Size +
Chapter Eighteen


Nick

I was playing on Steam, shooting up digital zombies like crazy. Lauren leaned over, putting a cup of blueberries beside the keyboard. “I’m going to the store,” she said. “I already have Cheerios on the list. Anything else?”

“Uh uh,” I shook my head.

“Do you even know what I’m saying?” she asked. “Or am I like the teachers in Charlie Brown?”

“Wahh wah… wah wahwahwah…” I mocked.

“Nerd.” She ruffled my hair. “I’ll be back.” She kissed the top of my head and started for the door.

I listened close. The second she’d closed the front door, I paused my game and pushed my laptop to the side, springing to my feet and running to the window. I peered out a crack in the curtain and watched as her little white car drove away, then I ducked back into the house.

I had a mission.

I grabbed my cell phone, the dogs following me as I jogged up the stairs.

Even with Lauren out of the house, I still felt like I had to be super secret. So I huddled myself into the bathroom, Nacho and Igby crowded in at my feet, and I sat on the edge of the bathtub. I pulled up the number I’d saved from Lauren’s phone and called Kristin.

The phone rang a couple times, but then she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey… Kristin?” I asked, making sure.

“Nick?” her voice pitched in surprise.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I answered. “I got your number from Lauren.”

“You’re back,” she still sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I’m back.”

Kristin was quiet.

“So.. uh… how… how are you?” I asked.

“Um, I’m… fine.”

“Yeah? Mason and Max?”

“Yeah they’re both fine, too.”

She sounded suspicious.

Couldn’t blame her, I’d literally never called her before in my life.

“Okay, look, you ain’t stupid, I’m sure you know I’m gonna bring Kevin up and that he’s the reason I’m calling and stuff,” I said, “So lemme just get to it. Kris, he’s really sorry.”

Kristin sighed my name. “Nick…”

“No please hear me out,” I said hurriedly. I stood up, the dogs rushed around my feet, and I paced to the door and back again, “Ever since he told me what all’s been going on with you guys, he’s been all whining and sad and I miss Kristin and stuff. You gotta give him a chance, he’s balls out crazy about you. Deep down, you know y’all are supposed to be together. Forever.”

Kristin sighed again. I could hear Mason and Max playing in the background. Some kind of obnoxious kid’s show was singing loudly on the TV set.

“He just misses you guys,” I added during her silence, “You and the kids and stuff. Why don’t you give him a chance to say sorry?”

“It’s not as easy as all that, Nick,” Kristin interjected. She must’ve walked out of the room the kids were in ‘cos the sound quieted. “There’s a lot that went on between Kev and I that you wouldn’t understand.”

“I ain’t a lil kid no more,” I argued. “And there’s like love and shit and that stuff’s supposed to transcend things that happen or whatever.”

“Supposed to, but it doesn’t always,” Kristin said.

I leaned against the sink, back to the mirror, “C’mon. You and Kev are stronger than all that.”

“I thought so once, too, Nick,” Kristin said.

I shook my head, “No, no you are, you still are. You’re gonna be okay, you just gotta listen to what he’s gotta say to ya.”

“Nick, no,” Kristin said.

“Yeah-huh,” I argued.

“Nick, this isn’t your fight,” she said, a tired tone to her voice, “Why isn’t he the one arguing this?”

I set my jaw. “Because you changed your phone number and I hadda steal this one from Lauren’s phone maybe?”

“Nick, he had a really long time before I ever changed that number to come back and apologize and he couldn’t even do that,” Kristin said. “He had months to fix this. And it didn’t matter enough to him then to do anything.”

“But - maybe he didn’t know how to,” I said.

Kristin’s voice was sad, “If he’d just done it when he should’ve, it wouldn’t have been hard.”

“It’s always hard to say sorry.”

“Especially when it’s too late,” Kristin replied.

I stared at my shoes, at the dogs at my feet, at the black and white checkered tiles that Lauren had redone the floor in. I chewed my lower lip, thought about the idea that an apology could come too late to be useful, even for the people who were supposed to love you unconditionally.

I thought about Kevin saying sorry to Caroline twenty-something years after hurting her and how she’d forgiven him.

Was it easier to forgive people who you didn’t love unconditionally? Or did Caroline truly love Kevin unconditionally? But I knew Kristin did too, didn’t she? Could unconditional love grow conditions over time?

“But… but sorrys that came later than that haven’t been too late before,” I said.

Kristin sighed.

“How can sorry after twenty plus years be accepted and one after a few months not be?” I asked, desperate.

“Twenty-something years?” Kristin sounded confused.

“Yeah, when we were in Kentucky, Kev told Caroline Watson he was sorry about hurting her when he left and all that,” I said without thinking. Then I quickly back pedaled. “I mean we bumped into her and after he went right back to whining constantly about missing you ‘cos he told me how you saved him from her and stuff ‘cos you’re so - uh, Kristiny.”

“Wait. You went to Kentucky? Is that where y’all have been at? And y’all saw Caroline Watson?” Kristin’s voice was full of disbelief.

“I… yeah… but I mean, the point is… sorry can’t be late… right? It’s just… if it’s meant, right? It can’t… ‘cos like, unconditional love and… all that?”

Kristin was quiet.

“You love him, right, Kris? Don’t you love Kevin?” I asked.

“Do you remember the last time you came to our house drunk, Nick? After Mason was born and Kevin brought you out front to the lawn and told you that you had to go?” Kristin’s voice was hushed, probably afraid of the kids overhearing her talking.

I remembered the night well. It was a bad night. I’d been too drunk to drive home so one of my drinking buddies had agreed to drop me off and somewhere along the ride I’d gotten really, really homesick, but not for my house, rather, for the BSB tour bus. I wanted so much to crawl into my bunk on that old bus and curl into a ball and wake up the next morning sixteen again, with a world of choices ahead of me, and I pictured myself not making any of the wrong ones. I was homesick for my friends, the only family I’d had in years, the fellas. So I’d asked to be dropped off at Kevin’s house. I’d stumbled across the lawn, sick to my stomach, messed up beyond belief, seeing things in this weird hazy sort of way, like all the colors and edges were smeared, and I’d knocked. Kevin had come to the door with his pajamas on, his hair a mess, Kristin lurking behind him, clutching Mason. And when I’d slurred my way through my reason for being there he’d looked at me with the saddest look in his eyes I ever saw and he’d told me I couldn’t stay. “I’ll call you a cab,” he said, “But you can’t stay. I’m sorry.” I’d begged him, but he’d refused. “Nick,” he said, “Someday, you’ll understand this and you’ll thank me for it, but I can’t help you tonight. I can’t let this bullshit keep happening. It’s the end. I love you, Nick, but it’s the end of us being hurt by each other.” And the next week, he started the motions that would lead to him quitting the Backstreet Boys.

“Yeah,” I whispered, “I remember.”

“I can’t let this bullshit keep happening,” Kristin recited, and I felt my heart breaking for Kevin, “Someday, he’ll understand and he’ll thank me for it. It’s just over. I love him, Nick, but it’s the end of us being hurt by each other.” She took a deep breath, “Do you understand?”

I shook my head no, even though I knew she couldn’t see it.

“Nick, I already filed the divorce papers. As soon as we know where he’s at, he’s going to be served.”

My throat ached.

I hung up the phone.




“Niiiiick…” Lauren’s voice traveled through the house, “What did you do?”

I was sitting on the floor in the bathroom still, having spent the last hour thinking about what Kris had said and the ideas of forgiveness and unconditional love. I hadn’t even felt the time pass by much. Nacho had jumped up on the closed toilet seat and laid down, staring at me while Igby sat in the corner by the door, looking at me like I’d finally gone crazy just like he’d always been waiting for.

I heard the fridge door open and close a few times, the rustling of paper and plastic bags, the cupboards door close. “Nick,” Lauren yelled, “Where are you?”

“Up here,” I yelled back.

A few seconds later and from the stairs she yelled, “Marco?”

“Polo,” I replied half heartedly.

The door opened and Igby ran out and jumped on the bed. Lauren stood in the doorway. She looked down at me sitting on the floor and sighed, “Nick, you called Kristin?”

“Yeah,” I said. “How’d you know?”

“She called me.”

“Oh.”

Lauren shook her head.

“I was just trying to help, I thought if I called she’d understand how much Kevin loves her and how worried he was about her.”

Lauren squatted in front of me. She stared into my face. “Nick, you can’t fix everything for everybody. Sometimes they gotta fix stuff for themselves. Or not fix them.”

“Yeah but Kev’s always done everything for me, and I dunno I wanted to help him out.”

She patted my foot. “The thought is what counts, Nick.” She squeezed my toes. “I’m sorry. She said she was kinda rough on you.” Lauren paused, “She, uh, also mentioned you stole her number from my phone.”

“It was for the greater good,” I mumbled.

Lauren sat down next to me so our elbows were touching. “I know, you know.”

“You know what?”

“That there’s some weird thing in your head that if you can’t fix Kevin and Kristin that you and I aren’t going to be okay.” She leaned her forehead against mine and started into my face until her eyes looked like one giant eye. “We’re going to be okay, regardless of who breaks up and doesn’t. Okay?”

“I know,” I said. “We’re the healthiest relationship I know, too. I know. We already talked about all that.”

“Then why are you still acting like a crazy person?” she asked.

“Cos Kev deserves to be happy,” I answered.

Lauren nodded, “Fair.”

“She’s gettin’ a divorce,” I said, “She already filed. She doesn’t know where he is, that’s the only reason he isn’t served yet.” I stared up at Lauren.

She took a deep breath. “I told her he went to our place in Nashville.”

“You sold him out?” I asked, disbelief dripping from my every word. “Baby, why -- why would you -- how could you --”

Lauren’s eyes were all soft. “Nick, he’s gotta deal with it. He’s got a right to know. They have to serve him the papers. I had to tell her.”

“But…” I frowned. “So they’re gonna serve him?” I suddenly felt overwhelmed by this deep feeling of loss that I couldn’t explain entirely.

Lauren nodded.

“I feel like my parents are breaking up all over again,” I mumbled. “You know when they tried to serve my mom, she broke a remote control on my dad’s face through the window of his fuckin’ car? Course he brought his girlfriend with him to drop off the papers and stuff but I mean, still. A remote control, Lauren.”

Lauren rolled her eyes, “Nick, Kev’s not gonna break a remote control on anybody’s face.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, Nick,” she replied, “He’s not certifiably insane like your mother is.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s going to be okay. It might take some time but he’ll get back to his feet and he’ll be okay,” Lauren said in her best promising voice.

“Yeah,” I said again.

She rubbed my shoulder. “C’mon, you. Get off the bathroom floor. You aren’t ten and your parents aren’t breaking up. You need to be a big boy now.”

I struggled to my feet. “Love is getting the shaft here, though, don’t you see that?” I asked as I followed her down the stairs.

“Then consider this your challenge to make it better,” she answered.

“I tried to make it better, it didn’t work, instead she’s serving him divorce papers.”

Lauren shook her head, “No, you tried to fix a specific instance. What I meant was make love better. You can’t fix anyone else, but you can make love better by doing your very best at it. You and I, together, we can make love better. Singlehandedly if we must.”

I thought about making a quip about lovemaking and my excellent skills, but I bit my tongue. It wasn’t the time for that.

We were back in the kitchen and putting away the rest of the groceries Lauren had gone to get. I shook a celery stalk at her. “I know I’m gettin’ to be a broken record about this, but…”

Lauren looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you love me unconditionally?”

Lauren stared at me. “Yes,” she said without hesitation.

“Really?”

“Nick, the fact that we’re standing here should tell you that. The first time you did some dumbass thing and I didn’t run off should’ve told you that.”

“Say we get married --”

“So that’s a theory now?”

“-- and twenty years from now I do some dumbass thing --”

“More like twenty minutes from now,” she muttered.

“Are you gonna break up with me cos of it?” I asked. “Am I gonna find myself getting my ass served papers?”

Lauren sighed, “So the dumbass thing isn’t going to fade with age?”

“Prolly not,” I answered, “It’s actually gotten more severe with age. Take that into consideration when answering my previous question.”

“Oh boy,” she said. She put down the jar of sauce she was holding. But she was smiling. At least I amused her. “Okay how about this. If you do some dumbass thing, I promise not to serve you papers as long as you promise to apologize - sincerely - about it.”

“What if I dunno I did it?” I asked. “What if I didn’t know what I did was a dumbass thing and you’re just mad at me forever and I never know it ‘til boom I got served?”

“I promise to tell you that you did a dumbass thing before it gets to the point of no return.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

We stood there at the table, holding the stuff we were about to put away, staring at each other awkwardly. “Should we, like, shake on this or somethin’?” I asked.

“Sure.” Lauren held out her hand and I shook it. As our handshake parted she asked, “Now do you feel better?”

“Eh, I’m a’ight,” I answered, turning to put up the celery.

“Alright enough that maybe we could talk wedding plans?” she asked.

“Okay,” I answered, closing the fridge.

“Okay, so I was thinking that Wedding 2.0 should be small. Just friends and family.”

“Sounds good,” I said, “Less people to witness it if I freak out again.”

“Too soon for that to be funny, Carter,” she said in a warning tone. “Next thing. I was thinking we do something tame for the honeymoon, like go home to Key West or something. Mexico. Something small. Bora Bora can be rebooked, but we have to go three months out from the original date, within six months of that. So I was thinking… you’re booked on tour and cruise and all that through the end of November… so… we could use a break in December.”

“Sounds good again. You’re thinkin’ of everything,” I commented.
“Well that’s all I thought of. So what’s your thoughts on 2.0?”

“I thought we could call it Wedding the Remix, yes?”

Lauren laughed. “Okay. Your thoughts on Wedding the Remix?”

“That was my thought on Wedding the Remix. That we call it Wedding: the Remix.”

Lauren laughed again, luckily, and shook her head, “You are so lucky I love you.”

“Trust me, I know.” I sat myself down at the table, all the stuff put away finally. “I would so not love me if I was you.”

“That’s surprising, given how much you love you,” she commented with a smirk.

“Heyyyy,” I whined.

Lauren kissed the top of my head, “I’m kidding, baby, sort of.”




That night, Kevin didn’t call me and I didn’t dare to call him because I didn’t know what to say to him. I wondered if he’d been served the papers, if he was okay if he had, or if he hadn’t and he was just enjoying life, working on that song with Andrew, completely unaware that there was no reason to continue on with it. I hoped Andrew was there with him when he got the papers at least, so he wasn’t alone.

Lauren poked me.

I looked over at her. We’d been sitting in bed reading, well she was reading and I was holding up my World of Warcraft gaming guide and thinking.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Next week at this time, if you don’t run away again, we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Carter.”

“I’m never gonna run away from you again,” I said, “Unless you have a squirt gun or a water balloon or we’re playing tag or --”

“Shut up,” she laughed.

I grinned.

“Can you believe it’s a week already?”

“That’s the way we planned it,” I said, “So..kinda.”

Lauren raised her eyebrow. “You’re being a dumbass.”

“I’m sorry.”

“See? No divorce papers.”

“Thank God.”

“We got this, Nick.”