[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Chapter 168

With the coming of midnight on New Year’s Eve came an overwhelming sense of déjà vu for Claire, who spent the evening on the couch in the condo, absently watching the Dick Clark special on TV and feeling her babies kick and squirm inside her. She was surrounded by love, both inside and out, with her family around her and her unborn twins on the way, but a part of her still felt strangely empty and alone.

She had felt this way all week, ever since Jamie had left.

She was trying to be strong – and stubborn – and reassure herself that she had been right to kick him out. He needed time to sort out his priorities and get his head on straight, and she needed space and time away from him. But though she didn’t miss the conflict and drama of having him around, she did miss him. Especially tonight. They had spent the last two New Years together; last year, they’d been only weeks away from their wedding.

It seemed strange that it had only been one year ago. So much had changed since their wedding day.

She felt completely removed from last year’s celebration, as if it had happened in another lifetime. Instead, it was almost as if she were reliving the one from three years ago, when she’d watched the ball in Times Square drop from Kyle and Amber’s living room, cradling newborn Kamden in her arms and nursing a broken heart, less than a month after leaving Nick.

That had been New Year’s Eve 2005. Now, an hour away from ringing in 2009, she was married to, but separated from, a different man and expecting children of her own. But just like then, she had no idea what to expect in the new year. She had motherhood to look forward to… but what of Jamie? What of her marriage? Her life?

As the rest of the world looked forward to the year to come, Claire almost wished she could go back, back to four years ago, when everything in her life had seemed almost startlingly clear. That New Year’s was the first she and Nick had spent together… in fact, it was the night they’d made their “couple” status official. It had been less than a month since she’d almost lost him, and she’d known then that he was the only one she wanted to be with. They celebrated the new year together with conviction, both anxious for a new beginning, with fresh outlooks on life and all the hope in the world for the future and their relationship. In their minds, he loved her, she loved him, and nothing else mattered. In a way, they’d cheated death, and, perhaps naively, they’d felt they could conquer anything as long as they were together.

What they hadn’t been able to conquer were the ordinary issues that ruined relationships, even one like theirs. But that night, Claire hadn’t been thinking about anything ordinary. She hadn’t foreseen any of the seemingly trivial arguments which would break them apart. All she could see that night was Nick and how extraordinary he was in her eyes and how extraordinary their love for each other was.

And now, remembering that night, she wished she could return to that brief period of innocence and lightheartedness in an adulthood that was otherwise marred with trials and anguish.

They say the way you spend New Year’s is the way you’ll spend your year, and that year, it had been true. She and Nick had spent most of the year together in happiness, before she’d left him in December, a decision part of her still regretted. And now she’d separated herself from Jamie, and she wondered, what did the fact that they’d be spending New Year’s apart say about the prospects for saving their marriage?

It was too late to change anything, though; there was just under an hour until midnight, two hours for Jamie because he was back in the central time zone. He’d stayed at his brother’s place for a few days and then flown home early, when she’d made it clear she didn’t want to see him. She had promised to stay in touch, in order to keep him involved with their unborn children, but aside from relaying updates on her pregnancy, she wanted little contact. It would just make things easier for the both of them if they stayed away from each other, until they could figure out where to go from there.

And so, she would ring in the new year in uncertainty.

***

Across town, Nick and Laureen were enjoying a New Year’s Eve much more reminiscent of the happy, hopeful one that haunted Claire’s memory.

It was their first New Year’s together, and they’d opted to make it intimate and low-key, with just the two of them. Once again, Nick was not at his best, with a jaw that was still bruised, tender, and swollen from Jamie’s blow, so he’d treated Laureen to a candlelit dinner out and she’d happily agreed to spending the rest of the night in at his place, watching movies, and getting drunk.

Halfway through the midnight hour found them halfway through Wayne’s World and halfway through a six-pack of Corona.

“Wanna pause it? I gotta pee,” Laureen giggled, getting up for the third time since they’d started the movie.

Nick laughed too. “Sure. Actually…” He paused to glance at the clock. “Maybe we should just stop for now and watch the TV; it’s almost midnight. Gotta watch the ball drop.”

“Oh, of course!” Laureen agreed. “Be back!”

But once she had scurried off, Nick had a different idea. He went to his stereo, flipped quickly through one of his rotating racks of CDs, and pulled a case from the collection. Slipping a CD into the stereo, he cued it just in time.

When Laureen came back into the room, the TV was on mute, and gentle strains of Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” were playing softly. She stopped dead in her tracks, listening, and he heard her gasp, her whole face lighting up as she recognized the music. “I love this song!!” she cooed. “Nick!”

“Dance with me,” he said, reaching out to her and drawing her near.

She floated obediently into his arms, and they began to rotate around the room, their heads light with alcohol, their hearts even lighter. This was how a New Year’s Eve should be spent, Nick thought, dancing slowly with that special someone, not a care in the world or a soul to interrupt them. Neither of them spoke; for once, it seemed that words would just get in the way of the moment. So they just danced, her head on his shoulder, his arms tight around her.

And as the clock struck midnight and the shimmering ball descended upon Times Square, Nick took Laureen’s face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers, ringing in 2009 with a deep, lingering kiss.

***

Two days into the New Year, the couple decided to put Nick’s Christmas present – everything they needed for a night out at Club Nite-Glo – to good use. Nick dressed in the Don Johnson-esque white suit Laureen had given him, complete with the teal shirt underneath as an accent piece, and pulled the old loafers over his bare feet. He wasn’t sure how well the loafer would stay on his artificial foot, but thankfully, it was a good fit, and he could walk in it without it flopping off.

He wished he had a sweet 80s Ferrari to pick up Laureen in, but he settled for his Bentley convertible instead. He drove to her apartment building with the top down, parked, and was about to go and get her when the door opened, and out she came. A smile spread across his face as she approached, and he drank in the sight of her.

The black-and-teal, taffeta dress she’d bought fit her like a glove, hugging her curves in all the right places. He’d never seen her in something so form-fitting, and it was a pleasant surprise. Her hair was crimped and teased so that it was huge, even with half of it up in a big, floppy bow, a la Madonna, on top of her head. On her feet were teal pumps that matched her dress exactly, and on her wrists were many bangles and big, clunky bracelets in bright pinks and teals. She had an equally big set of earrings and a string of huge, hot pink beads around her neck, and her face was made-up boldly with lavender eye shadow and bright pink lipstick. Yet altogether, the result was not tacky. Nick thought she looked adorable.

He kissed her a greeting, forgetting the pink lipstick, and came away with his lips tinted that shade as well. Giggling, Laureen helped him wipe it off and then said, coyly, “You look hot in that outfit.”

“Really.” Nick swept a hand through his hair and struck a cheesy pose alongside his car. “Well, you look bodacious, babe.”

Laureen blushed, making her face even more colorful, and grinned. “I had fun getting ready.”

He chuckled, looking her over again. “I bet you did.”

They listened to an 80s mix he’d made on the way to the club, and when they got there, more 80s music was blaring out the front doors. Nick handed his keys to the valet and walked around the car to get Laureen. As they walked inside and paid the entrance fee, they passed many others who were dressed in the same fashion as Laureen, but none of them, Nick thought, looked as cute as her.

One part of the club was a small restaurant that carried a variety of dishes named for eighties icons, and they decided to start with dinner there. Laureen got the Top Gun burger, and Nick, in the mood for shrimp, grudgingly ordered the Swayze Seafood Soiree. “I’m gonna need some fuel for all that dirty dancing we’re gonna do later,” he quipped, defending his choice with a wiggle of his brows.

Laureen giggled.

Once their plates had been cleared away, their bill paid, they made their way to the other side of the club, where strobe lights flashed, colored lights flickered and swirled, and people danced and drank. Nick didn’t hesitate in buying drinks for himself and Laureen, and they sat off to the side and sipped for awhile, waiting for the right moment to hit the dance floor.

There was an old-school DJ who spun the records there every night; he played his part well, dressed in parachute pants, big shades, and a backwards cap in Day-Glo yellow. After a series of the upbeat staples of 80s music, he turned on his mic said in a cheesy DJ voice, “Alright, we’re gonna slow this place down for awhile, so grab your babe and make your way onto the dance floor.”

This was most people’s excuse to leave the dance floor and get a drink, but as the crowd thinned, a few couples remained to slow dance.

“How about that dance?” asked Laureen, offering Nick a sweet smile.

He was about to agree, but then he heard the song that was starting. The piano melody was almost haunting, and he instantly stiffened. “Um, I can’t,” he said slowly. “Not this song, okay?”

At first, Laureen looked confused, but quickly, the realization hit her. “Ohh,” she murmured. “This was your song with Claire, wasn’t it?”

A lump rose in Nick’s throat; he quickly cleared it away. “‘Open Arms,’ yeah. I know it’s been a long time since we were together and all, but… it just doesn’t feel right, you know?” Forcing a smile, he added, “We need our own song anyway.”

Laureen smiled back. “I agree. Next song that comes on, is ours.”

“You got it, babe.”

The waited the song out, and it was only slightly awkward, mostly because Nick kept lapsing into silence, remembering the time he had danced with Claire to this song in a club in Maui…


He nearly spit out a mouthful of beer when he could have sworn he heard the familiar strains of “Open Arms” by Journey begin to play. Swallowing quickly, he listened and quickly realized that the song was playing. He looked over at Claire, unable to keep himself from smiling. She met his eyes, her smile making hers sparkle in the dim, bluish light.

“Let’s dance,” she said, slipping off of her stool and taking both of his hands. “Come on.”

He let her pull him off of his stool… and followed her slowly out onto the dance floor.

They made their way over to a darkened corner… and then Claire turned, drifting toward him. He put his arms around her waist, pulling her close, and her arms rose to encircle his neck. Slowly, they rocked back and forth in time to the music, gradually circling round and round.

Nothing could beat the intimacy of dancing like this, with the woman he loved in his arms, her head nestled against his chest…


Staring into the depths of his drink, Nick could almost see them now, shuffling around the dance floor of that club. That dance had meant so much to him, partly because it had been his first since he’d lost his leg, and partly because it had been with her. He’d been so in love with her then, and she had loved him, and they had been so happy and carefree there in Hawaii.

But things had changed. Claire was no longer the happy, carefree woman she had been then, and she was no longer in love with him. And while he would always love her, he had moved on too. Laureen was proof of that.

Nick forced himself to look up at her now, just as the song was ending. She offered him a tiny smile, looking expectant. He smiled back, and when the next song started, he stood and extended his hand to her. “How about that dance now?”

Beaming, Laureen took his hand, and they walked out onto the dance floor, accompanied by the keyboard rift of the song that playing and surrounded by soft purple and blue lights. Nick let go of Laureen’s left hand and put his right hand around her waist. Her free hand found his shoulder, and they began to move together, side to side, forward and back.

“How can I convince you
What you see is real
Who am I to blame you
For doubting what you feel?

“I was always reaching
You were just a girl I knew
I took for granted
The friend I have in you…”

Laureen leaned forward. “I don’t know this song,” she confessed, whispering loudly into his ear.

Nick listened to the chorus, trying to place it.

“I was living for a dream
Loving for a moment
Taking on the world
That was just my style

“Now I look into your eyes
I can see forever
The search is over
You were with me all the while…”

“‘The Search is Over,’ he whispered back. “I think Survivor sings it.”

“Don’t they sing ‘Eye of the Tiger’?”

“Yep.”

“Hm.” Laureen looked impressed. “You’re good.”

Nick shrugged, smiling.

“Can we last forever?
Will we fall apart?
At times, it’s so confusing
The questions of the heart

“You followed me through changes
And patiently you’d wait
Till I came to my senses
Through some miracle of fate…”

“I like this song,” Laureen decided, snuggling against him. “This can be our song.”

Nick smiled close-lipped, afraid of inhaling a mouthful of her hair, which was dangerously close to attacking his face. He ran his hand over her back, letting it drift low on her taffeta-covered hips.

The song ended, but they stayed out on the dance floor through several more slow songs, power ballads by Bon Jovi and Foreigner, bands Nick had grown up with. He was enjoying himself, and Laureen appeared to be too.

That was, until Sariah.

The last slow song in the set had finished, and Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean” had started to play, and Laureen had squealed, “I love this song!” and insisted they stay out on the dance floor. The alcohol had loosened her up, and she danced playfully alongside Nick, shimmying as he grinded, both having a good time. And then, suddenly, there was another woman, shimmying and grinding her way into their space, right up to Nick.

Caught off-guard, he looked from her to Laureen. But Laureen was not looking at him. She had stopped dancing and was staring at the other girl, looking simply appalled. The other girl took the opportunity to move closer to Nick, slinking an arm around his waist and grinding against him.

“Hey, wait – I’m with her,” Nick said, trying to get her to back off, but the music was too loud; she couldn’t hear him.

“What?” he saw her lips mouth. She was wearing purple lipstick. Bright purple lipstick, smeared in several layers over her huge lips. The effect was not attractive, especially with the makeup-crusted, red sore at the corner of her mouth. His own lip curling as he noticed this, Nick inched backwards, wanting to stay far away from her. But with purple-taloned hands, she came at him, wrapped her clawed fingers around his upper arm, and pulled him closer to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m with my girlfriend,” he said quickly, loudly, squirming to get out of her grip.

“I’m Sariah,” she purred in his ear. Imagining that sore coming into contact with his skin, Nick pulled away, wrenching his arm out of her grasp.

She let go abruptly, and the sudden change in force sent him backpedaling, nearly falling over in the crowd on the dance floor. Thankfully, Laureen was still nearby and grabbed his other arm, helping him steady himself. “Come on,” she said, turning him away from the purple woman, Sariah. They started to leave the dance floor together when the purple talons came out again, digging into Nick’s shoulder as she tried to get him to turn around.

He whirled around, prepared to tell her none-too-kindly to back off, but before he could get the words out, he heard Laureen’s voice rise next to him.

“Leave him alone! He’s with me!”

Sariah’s haughty eyes narrowed, and even with the music, Nick couldn’t help but hear her response.

“I can’t see why.”

Nick expected Laureen to be hurt by that comment, but if she was, she wasn’t showing it. Instead, he was surprised to hear his girlfriend fire back, “I can’t see why he’d wanna be with someone who looks like she’s been mackin’ on Barney!”

Eyes flitting again to Sariah’s bright, purple lips, Nick snorted out loud. He flashed Laureen a proud look that said “Good one,” and in the instant he looked away, Sariah lunged, claws outstretched, at Laureen.

There was no time for Nick to jump in and defend his girlfriend; within a matter of seconds, Laureen was engaged in an all-out cat fight in the middle of the dance floor. And she was holding her own. Sariah clawed and tore and pulled at Laureen’s hair, but Laureen fought back, knocking the other woman’s hands away, her fists trying wildly to get a punch in.

They were quickly pulled apart, a club bouncer barreling in to grab Sariah while Nick held Laureen around the waist. For a moment, he thought the bouncer was going to kick Sariah out and that would be the end of it, but a moment later, the tall black man was pointing at Laureen, as his voice boomed, “You – outta here!!”

“Wait!” Laureen started to protest, eyes wide, but Nick pulled her away.

“Don’t. Come on, let’s just go,” he muttered into her ear, his arm tight around her waist as he walked her off the dance floor.

He could tell Laureen was mad, but by the time they got outside into the fresh, night air, she was laughing. “Oh my god, can you believe I got us kicked out of a club for getting into a cat fight?” she giggled hysterically.

“Not really,” Nick confessed, raising his eyebrows at her. “You were awesome! Booze does wonders on you, baby.”

Laureen giggled, stumbling a little on her heels. “I’m sorry for ruining our night though!”

“Nah, you didn’t. That was hilarious! Most action I’ve seen since Christmas,” he chuckled and high-fived her. She laughed, her face shining. Her hair was an absolute mess from the havoc Sariah had wreaked on it with her fingernails, and her cheeks were flushed, her eye makeup starting to run, but even disheveled, she was endearing.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s go back to my place and put on our own 80s power ballads. We can lose these cheesy clothes though.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I can’t wait to slide that dress off of you,” he added, growling into her ear.

She snickered. “Good luck with that. I had to squeeze myself into it just to get it on. I don’t think it’s quite going to slide off.”

“We’ll see about that. Maybe we need a little lubricant…”

Giggling, they climbed into Nick’s car when the valet brought it around, and headed for home.

***