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Chapter 141

Nick spent the day of his first single’s release in Los Angeles, promoting it. He was up at the crack of dawn to do a radio interview with XL 106.7 in Orlando, a station which had supported the Backstreet Boys since the very beginning. After that, it was off to the NBC studios in LA to tape a performance for The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, which would air that night and mark his first time performing the new song on TV. After Leno, there were more radio interviews, including an in-studio appearance for LA’s KIIS FM.

The DJ, Suzy, asked him all the usual questions: What had he been up to? How was his health? Why had he decided to make another solo album? How did the other Boys feel about his solo work? And when was the next Backstreet Boys album going to come out, anyway?

Nick, who had been asked these same questions in almost every interview so far that day, gave all the standard answers with ease. “The guys and I had a meeting earlier this year and decided to take some time off for our personal lives. AJ got married this past March, and Kevin and his wife had a baby, and Brian has a son too, you know, so they all wanted some time to just hang out at home with their families. It’s been nice to take a break and work on some other stuff, but we’re planning to make another album together at some point. Hopefully next year we can all get into the studio and make some magic,” he said and laughed.

Suzy chuckled indulgently. “You heard the man, Backstreet fans – new album as soon as next year! I’m sure a lot of people will be glad to hear that,” she added to Nick. “In case you’re just tuning in, this is Suzy Tavares on 102.7 KISS-FM, and I’ve got Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys here in the studio with me. We’ve just been chatting about what’s going on with the other Boys, but today, it’s all about Mr. Carter himself. Nick’s releasing a new solo album, and the first single hits the airwaves today. I’m going to play it here in a few minutes, and then you can start requesting! But first, Nick, what can you tell us about this song?”

Nick cleared his throat and leaned into the large microphone in front of him. “Well, song is called ‘Bruised Not Broken,’ and it’s actually one that I wrote myself.” Licking his lips nervously, he explained, “The concept of the song is, like… well, I’ve been through some hard times since my last solo album, as you may or may not know, and I’ve faced some tough challenges, but I made it through, and I’m still here. So it’s saying, you know, I’ve been hurt, I’ve been bruised, but my spirit’s not broken.”

“Wow… that’s really deep, really cool,” said Suzy sincerely after a pause. “Well, how about we give this song a listen? Whaddya say?”

“I say, that’s awesome! I hope everyone likes it!”

“Alright, here it comes. For the first time on our airwaves, here comes Nick Carter with ‘Bruised Not Broken,’ on 102.7 KISS-FM.”

Suzy flipped a switch, and Nick smiled as he heard the opening notes of his song start to play.

***

“Would you like to hear the babies’ heartbeats?”

Claire looked up in surprised happiness. “Sure!” she exclaimed.

Her obstetrician, Dr. Valerio, smiled. “I thought you might. Now that you’re at almost nine weeks, we should be able to detect them on the Doppler. Let me get you set up here, and we’ll see…”

As Dr. Valerio set up the Doppler ultrasound equipment, Claire turned to smile at Jamie. He looked just as excited as she felt to finally hear their babies’ heartbeats. They had seen all three hearts beating on the regular ultrasound a few minutes ago, and Dr. Valerio had assured them, “All three babies seem to be developing perfectly normally.”

This time, Claire could attest to the fact that the babies had been growing. She was barely into her third month of pregnancy and was already starting to show. It had come on suddenly; her clothes had started feeling tight, and now she was in pants that were two sizes bigger than what she normally wore. The scale at the oncology clinic on Saturday had shown that she’d gained ten pounds, and now, just days later, her weight was up by another two. “I’m gonna look like a hippo by the time I pop these kids out,” she had joked to Jamie.

But it didn’t really bother her. Every time she ran her hand across the firm pouch of her stomach, or looked at herself sideways in a mirror and saw the small bump beneath her shirt, she was filled with a rush of tenderness and excitement. She had been through so much to get pregnant that she was determined to treasure every aspect of the experience. Even when she was nauseous with morning sickness or overwhelmed by the thought of having three babies at once, she reminded herself that this was a blessing, a miracle even. Her children would be worth every bit of the sickness and stress – and stretch marks.

“Okay, let’s see here…” Dr. Valerio murmured to herself as she ran the Doppler probe over Claire’s belly. Claire could hear muffled noises coming from the machine, but nothing distinct and steady yet. She listened closely, waiting in suspense. Finally, Dr. Valerio said, “Ahh, here… this is Baby A…” Falling silent, she turned a notch on machine, and the volume grew louder.

A smile spread over Claire’s face like melting butter as she heard it, possibly the most beautiful noise in the world, the ‘whoosh, whoosh, whoosh’ of her baby’s tiny heart. It sounded almost like the faint ‘chug-a, chug-a’ of a train in the distance as it beat on, rapid and steady.

Her breath caught in her throat, and Jamie squeezed her hand as they both listened, enraptured by the undeniable sounds of life from one of their three miracles.

***

Claire could still hear each of the three babies’ heartbeats echoing in her memory as she rode home with Jamie that afternoon. He had the radio on, but she tuned the music out, imagining the gentle rhythm of the Doppler instead.

It wasn’t until she heard a familiar name that her attention returned to the radio. “Ooh, turn it up!” she exclaimed, then reached for the volume dial herself, just in time to catch the DJ saying, “… so here it is, the brand new single from Nick Carter, ‘Bruised Not Broken.’”

Jamie groaned audibly, but Claire ignored him, listening instead to the song that had started to play. It was a melodic mid-tempo, with piano and guitar accompanying Nick’s voice. His vocals were strong and filled with such emotion that it gave her chills just to listen to them.

“I am bruised, black and blue, and every color in between,” he sang on the chorus, “My heart aches with every beat, and my lungs refuse to breathe… I am bruised, nothing new, but it hasn’t killed me yet… I’m standin’ on my own again, ‘cause I’m bruised, not broken…”

“Melodramatic much?” Jamie snorted, shaking his head.

Again, Claire ignored him, paying attention only to the song. The music was pretty, and the lyrics were especially powerful. They hit home, reminding her of all of the trials she had watched Nick go through, all of the times she’d worried about him, wondering how much he could possibly endure before he simply broke. No one should ever have to go through what Nick had, but he had prevailed. Just as his lyrics stated, he wasn’t broken; if anything, he was stronger and sturdier than ever. The song itself was proof of that, for here he was, very much alive and singing about it.

By the time its final notes faded into the radio station’s jingle, she had tears in her eyes. The hormones of pregnancy had made her a lot more emotional than usual over the last few weeks, but this time, she knew it wasn’t hormones that were causing her eyes to well up. It was Nick, his voice and his words… Her maternal instincts were kicking in; she was so proud of him.

“I have to call him,” she murmured out loud, digging around in her purse for her cell phone.

Jamie made an exasperated noise. “Right now?”

Claire paused, cell phone raised in mid-air, and looked over at her husband. “What is your problem?” she asked, none-too-nicely. “Do you have to be such a complete asshole about Nick? Are you really that jealous of him?”

Jamie’s profile tightened, his features contorting with anger. “I am not jealous,” he protested defensively.

“Yeah? Coulda fooled me,” muttered Claire. “I don’t know why you would be, though; clearly, you’re the one I married.”

“Exactly,” said Jamie easily. “Why would I be jealous of a one-legged Backstreet Boy anyway?”

He said the words with such derision that Claire wanted nothing more than to smack the smirk right off his lips. She settled for clenching her phone in her fist, as tightly as she could, until its casing started to groan, threatening to crack under the pressure. The exertion succeeded in taking the edge off of her anger, and she didn’t fly off the handle. All she said was, “You’re a real prick sometimes, Jamie, you know that?” and then dialed Nick’s number.

His phone must have been off; it went straight to his voicemail. She waited for his message to finish, smiling at the sound of his playful voice, and then left a message of her own. “Hey! It’s Claire. I’m sure you’re busy with all kinds of promo stuff, but I just had to call and tell you, I just heard your single on the radio! It’s such a great song, Nick; I love it!! You sound amazing…”

As she gushed, she was dimly aware of the fact that Jamie was slowly turning up the radio, one notch at a time, making her instinctively speak louder just to hear herself. Slapping his hand away from the volume dial, she shot him a murderous look and added into the phone, “Jamie’s here in the car with me, and I don’t think he liked it as well as ‘Do I Have to Cry For You,’ but I guess that’s to be expected. You remember what I told you about his passion for Bryan Adams and all.” Trying not to laugh, she smiled sweetly at Jamie. If looks could kill, she would have been smeared across the road after the face he gave her in return. “Well, anyway, good luck with all your stuff this week, and I’ll see on Saturday.”

Saturday, she thought as she hung up, her stomach dropping. It was coming up so fast. The going away party was on Saturday, and the very next day, she and Jamie would be leaving…

“What the hell was that for?” Jamie’s indignant voice interrupted her thoughts. “That was below the belt, Claire.”

“What, saying you like Bryan Adams? You do!” Claire laughed.

Jamie flushed and glared darkly out the windshield. Without looking at her, he replied, “Yeah, well, Bryan Adams sings better than him. Where did your taste in music go? That song was a whiny piece of crap.”

“Since we’ve never shared the same taste in music to begin with, I’ll let that one slide,” said Claire, knowing he was just trying to bait her. He had always liked to push her buttons, see how riled up he could get her. “You’re so cute when you’re angry,” he always used to patronize her, which, of course, made her even angrier. “You’re allowed your own opinion, but don’t insult mine,” she added.

“Sorry.” Jamie didn’t sound remotely apologetic. “I hope it does well, for his sake. But hey, if he ever decides to quit singing, I know of the perfect place for him to work.”

“Where?” Claire asked flatly without looking at him, sensing that some kind of joke was on its way.

Jamie snickered. “IHOP.”

Claire rolled her eyes at the bad joke. IHOP… I hop. If Nick had said it, it would have cracked her up. If she had said it to him, it probably would have made him laugh, too. But coming from Jamie’s mouth, it just seemed spiteful and tasteless.

“Nice,” she muttered sarcastically. “How very mature and sensitive of you. It’s good to know what a great role model you’re going to be for our children, teaching them to turn up the volume on the radio while their mother’s trying to talk on the phone and make fun of amputees.”

“Oh, Claire, lighten up; it was a joke. I was kidding!” Jamie exclaimed.

“No, see, you don’t get that privilege,” she shot back. “Nick can make jokes like that, I can make jokes like that, but you can’t, because when you say it, you’re not kidding! You’re being an ass about it!”

Jamie didn’t say anything. As she ran her hand absently over her belly, another thought occurred to her. “What if one of our babies ends up having some kind of birth defect and is born without legs or something? Would you have a problem with that? Would you make fun of him? Or her?”

“Of course not,” Jamie muttered in a low voice. “I love our babies. Nick’s not my son.”

“Well, he’s my friend, and it pisses me off when you insult him like that. You don’t have to like him, but can you at least show him some respect? You have no idea the shit he’s been through.” You wouldn’t have been able to handle it, she added internally, thinking of what a wuss Jamie was about doctors and sickness. But she didn’t say that part out loud.

“I’m sure he has, but you know, it doesn’t make him that special,” Jamie retorted, his voice tinged with annoyance. “You always put him on such a fucking pedestal, but really, he’s just a guy who got a shitty deal out of life. It could have happened to anyone.”

“Yeah, like me?” asked Claire, her voice rising. “I don’t put him on a pedestal, but don’t talk like you know what we’ve been through, ‘cause you don’t. You weren’t there when he was sick; you weren’t there when I was sick; you don’t know. You don’t know how scary it is, or how painful, or how much it fucks with you, your body and your mind. Don’t act like it was nothing.”

Jamie slammed his hands against the steering wheel in response to her words, making the car jerk. Claire gasped, her arms going instinctively over her stomach to protect it as they swerved onto the shoulder of the road and then back into their lane. Jamie had control of the car again, but Claire wanted to scream at him for scaring her like that. She didn’t, though; she was still too shocked, and before she could, Jamie spoke again.

“If you two are so damn tight, why’d you leave him anyway? Why’d you marry me?” he growled, his jaw tightly clenched.

Out of anger, Claire didn’t answer. She kept her arms tightly folded over her stomach and turned away from him, staring silently out the window until they got home. Then she hopped out of the car before he’d even shut off the ignition and started up the stairs of his apartment building without waiting for him. Once inside the apartment, she went to their bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it behind her.

Now she was the one acting immature, but she didn’t care. She was pregnant; she was allowed to be hormonal and pout. Besides, she didn’t want to see Jamie right now, with his cold blue eyes and his arrogant smirk.

She paced the room for a few minutes, her hand on her belly, silently seething as she rehashed everything he had said and done to spite her in the car. Then she tired of pacing and sank down on the edge of the bed, rubbing her swollen stomach to soothe herself. It was there that the tears came, hot, stinging tears of repressed anger and… regret?

His impudent words echoed in her head, somewhere behind her burning eyes. Why’d you leave him anyway? Why’d you marry me?

Sometimes, like now, she asked herself the same questions.

***