- Text Size +
Chapter 185

Nick slouched in his seat with the side of his face smashed against the cool glass, watching the road rush by in a continuous blur out the corner of his eye. Against his other cheek, his cell phone was pressed, and he held onto it loosely as he listened to the buzz that meant it was ringing on the other end of the line.

The buzz cut short, there was a pause, and then a shrill voice exclaimed, “Hey!”

A smile spread across Nick’s face, and he sat up straighter. “Hey, Ren. Bad time?” He’d tried to time the call so that he could catch her at a moment when she wouldn’t be busy with the twins. Surely, they would be put to bed by this hour.

“Stumpster! No, no, it’s fine, just-” As Nick was wrinkling his nose at the variation on his nickname, he heard the unmistakable sound of a tiny infant’s cry in the background. “I should know better than to have my phone sitting in the same room as the babies. Apparently sudden bursts of Nickelback startle them – go figure, right?”

“Nickelback?” he asked, listening to her fumble in the background, the baby’s cries growing louder.

“Yeah, ‘Rockstar’ – figured it would be appropriate for your ringtone right now, with you out there living it up on tour. ‘So how you gonna do it?’” she mimicked in a low drawl.

He laughed. “Good song. Sorry if I woke them up. Do you need to-?”

“Yeah… hold on, lemme put you on speaker. There we go,” she said, her voice taking on a projected quality. “Yeah, we’re working on self-comforting, but it’ll be awhile before they’ve mastered that.” Her voice faded, sounding more faraway, and the crying grew louder. He pictured her moving around in the condo with one of the babies and felt guilty for increasing her stress.

He’d made it a part of his routine to call her every other night or so in the month he’d been on tour. The phone calls broke up the monotony for both of them; she always sounded glad to hear from him, though she never called him herself (“I don’t want to bother you if you’re out partying or something,” she’d explained), and talking to her made the long bus rides and nights in strange hotel rooms less lonely for him.

Of course, her routine had completely changed now that Caitlin and Delaine were home from the hospital at last, and he’d forgotten that newborns didn’t exactly sleep just because it was nighttime. He felt bad for waking one or both of them up, knowing she had to be exhausted after a full day of caring for two infants. Not wanting to add to the chaos, he listened rather than talked as muffled noises drifted through the phone, and he heard her murmuring whispered words of consolation to the baby she, no doubt, was now holding in her arms.

In the lull, his mind wandered, and he smiled again at her choice of ringtone for him. Is that what she imagined his life on tour was like? A tour bus full of old guitars, a large posse of bodyguards wherever he went, wild nights of clubbing and women… He supposed he had come close to all of that back in the Backstreet heyday, but these days, touring was a much more subdued affair. He spent most of his nights off hanging out in his hotel room or riding on a tour bus, just playing video games, listening to music, writing. With no one on tour with him this time, it was all pretty boring and lonely, at least in the down time. And he had plenty of down time.

“You still there, Nick?” Claire’s voice drifted through the phone.

“Yep, I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take your time doin’ whatever you’re doin’,” replied Nick, sliding lower in his seat and stretching his good leg out on the empty seat facing him.

His manager had shown mercy when scheduling this tour, giving him plenty of nights off in between shows. In fact, he rarely was on stage two nights in a row. He almost always had a day off in between to travel to the next city and relax, a fact for which he was grateful. Touring took a lot out of him these days; his stamina just wasn’t what it used to be, not with the extra amounts of energy he had to burn to move around onstage on his artificial leg. He was used to that from the last tour with the Boys, but doing an almost two-hour set by himself made the performing even more rigorous.

His lungs, too, were feeling the strain, and that was something new. He had noticed, in the recording of his album, that he fell short of breath while singing more quickly than he ever had in the past, a fact which he attributed to the BOOP which had, undoubtedly, damaged his lungs somewhat. It was a lot more noticeable to him now, though, as singing live with few breaks was a lot different than singing in a studio. By the end of his shows, he was nearly breathless, and it was all he could do to string enough words together to thank the audience for coming and say goodnight, then get through his encore. If the fans noticed the quality of his singing diminish over the course of the show, they didn’t seem to mind; their screams and wild applause as he took his final bows were always astounding. Still, he was more than aware of it, and it bothered him. Singing was all he had, and if he physically couldn’t do it anymore, then what good was he for anything?

But a good night’s sleep and a day of rest did wonders, and by the start of the next show, he was always back on his game, so he tried not to worry about it much. He hadn’t forgotten the “cold” which had turned out to be a tumor in his lung four years ago, but he was sure that what he was experiencing now was completely different and unrelated. He didn’t feel bad at all and only noticed the breathlessness after singing for so long, which, while annoying, was understandable to him. He had to remind himself that along with the BOOP, he was missing half a lung – surely, that had to affect his lung capacity somewhat. No wonder he couldn’t hold a note as long or get through some of the longer phrases in his songs without sneaking a breath. It bugged him, but in the scheme of things, he supposed it was a small price to pay. As least he was still here, touring, performing, able to do what he loved.

“Okay… I think I’ve got Cait settled down. We’re rocking,” Claire’s voice returned to him, and Nick realized that the crying had stopped.

“Oh good,” he replied. “Sorry for waking her up.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, my fault. I put Delaine down and was just feeding Cait out in the living room, hoping she might fall asleep too, and I didn’t think about the phone. I should probably turn down the volume a little; maybe it’s too loud. But hey, at least we know she can hear, right? That’s something I was supposed to watch for… some of the drugs they have to give preemies can cause hearing loss.”

“Oh,” said Nick, frowning. Being a musician, he couldn’t imagine something much worse than being deaf, though he supposed being blind would suck a lot too. “So how are they doing?”

“Good, really good. Not sleeping through the night yet, but if I’m lucky I can get them to sleep for a few hours at the same time; then I can get some sleep myself. If I can get to sleep, that is. I’m exhausted, but I worry… Delaine’s got a machine she has to wear at night for sleep apnea; it forces air into her nose and makes sure she keeps breathing. They’ve both got monitors that will go off if they go too long without breathing – you know, they worry about SIDS in preemies. I just live in fear that one of those monitors is going to go off, and I won’t hear it. I’ve got them both sleeping in bassinets in my room right now, but still… you know I’m a deep sleeper.”

“You wouldn’t sleep through that though,” Nick tried to assure her, reassuring himself as much as her. The thought of one of the infants suffocating while she slept was too horrible to imagine. “You’d wake up. It’d be one of those mother’s instinct things, wouldn’t it?”

“I hope. I’d like to think so, but it still scares me.”

“What about your parents? Can’t you sleep while they’re awake?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “they’ve been great, but I’m trying not to rely on them too much. Sooner or later, I’m going to be on my own with this; I can’t depend on them for everything. They help a lot during the day, but I’ve been doing night duty all by myself. When one of the girls wakes up – and usually it’s both – I get up.”

“You must be exhausted,” Nick sympathized. Frankly, he wasn’t sure how mothers did it. How had his mother managed to take care of twin babies, especially with three older kids running around? Granted, she’d had his father to help, but the way he saw it, three other kids and a dad cancelled each other out. Either way he looked at it, Claire had a tough job ahead of her as a single mom raising twins. The realization gave him some new respect of his own mother, and he hadn’t felt an ounce of respect towards her in many years.

“It’s the best job there is, though,” said Claire, and he could hear her smile through her voice. “I’m just so glad to have them both home that it’s all worth it. Every time I have to get up in the middle of the night, I just remind myself that at least I don’t have to drive to Tampa General to see them anymore. I just walk across the room.”

Nick smiled too, feeling a little wistful. The way she talked about her babies was enough to make anyone a little envious. For her, motherhood was an incredible gift, a miracle even, and though he could detect the tiredness in her voice, he could also hear the love. She was experiencing something he had never known, only come close to knowing when he had lived with a pregnant Leah. He wondered, again, if he would ever know what it was like to be a father.

“So,” Claire cut into his thoughts, and he could tell she was about to change the subject. “How was your show last night?”

***

“It was good,” Nick answered. “Nice crowd, nice venue. Intimate.”

Cupping the phone to her ear with one hand while she cradled her baby in the other arm, Claire tried to remember where he had performed last night. She’d been keeping up with his tour on the internet – sort of – but it was still hard to keep track of such things. The days kept slipping by in a whirlwind of dirty diapers, feedings, and blessed naps, and she’d lost sense of time. Sometimes it was hard to believe there was a whole world outside of her condo and that while she was there taking care of her twin infants, Nick was traveling the country. She thought he was somewhere on the east coast, but had no idea what city.

“Awesome! And where did you play again?”

“Charlotte. North Carolina,” he added.

“Ah, I remember now. And where are you heading next?”

“Atlanta. I’ve got a couple days there, so I’ll be able to get together with Bri.”

“Oh good! Tell him hi for me. And Leigh and Baylee.” She hadn’t seen any of them in a long time, though Brian had been here back in January for Nick’s birthday. She had not seen any of the guys then because she’d been in the hospital with the babies, but they had sent her a huge bouquet of flowers. She smiled, remembering.

“Will do,” replied Nick. “Hey, how’s Laureen?”

“Oh, she’s pretty good.” Before the babies had come home, Claire had seen a lot of Laureen. They’d had a “girls’ night” right after Nick left on tour, which was when the whole story of the break-up had come spilling out. Several more girls’ nights had followed, as they both tried to kid themselves into celebrating being single and free.

“Oh, good. I’ll have to call her… my Midwest dates are comin’ up in a couple weeks or something, and we always talked about meeting up in Chicago. I don’t know if she’ll still want to, but…”

“She’s okay, Nick. She was a little down, but not completely heartbroken. I think she’ll probably still want to go home to Chicago for your concert.”

“Really? Okay, great.” Nick sounded relieved. Claire smiled a little.

“So where next, after Atlanta?” she asked. “Will you keep heading south?” She wanted to know if he was coming to Florida next.

“Yep… I’ll be in Tampa March twelfth and thirteenth. Concert’s the twelfth. Why, do you think you’ll be able to come?”

“Well… I’m not on bed rest anymore, am I? I thought I’d still be pregnant then. So if you’ve got a seat for me and if my parents are willing to babysit, which I’m sure they will, then sure, I’d love to come!” She felt a rush of excitement as she realized how well the scheduling had worked out. She’d never been to a solo show of Nick’s before. “It’ll be an early birthday present.”

“Oh yeah, your birthday! I won’t be in town by then; I’ll be… heading to Dallas, I think. But yeah, I’ll get to see you a few days before. Uh, what do you want?”

Claire laughed. “You don’t have to get me a thing. Like I said, your concert will be my present.”

“You’re easily pleased.”

“Ha!” Claire shook her head in disbelief at him, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I’ve got a friend who can put me in a front row seat at a concert he’s putting on, sing songs to me for an hour, play the guitar and the drums, and he thinks I’m ‘easily pleased’ to have that as my birthday present? Have you always been this modest, Nick Carter?”

“No,” Nick admitted, and somehow, she believed that. She always had expected him to be an arrogant prick, before she’d gotten to know him, anyway, and even now, she wasn’t sure how far off the mark she had really been. Maybe he had been a little arrogant, a little bit of an asshole, before he’d fallen from grace under the weight of cancer. Maybe it was that experience that had humbled him. It didn’t matter to her either way. The Nick she knew, the Nick she had always known, was humble and sweet and truly believed he should buy her an actual birthday present because a ticket to his concert was simply not enough.

She loved that about him. Like Jamie, he was a completely different person than she’d always thought him to be, but unlike Jamie, the difference was a positive one. He’d been such a big part of her life these last six years that she couldn’t imagine how different it would be if she had never struck up a conversation with him that day in the chemo room.

Remembering the strange way they’d met, she laughed out loud, causing Nick to ask, “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking of how we met,” she replied.

Nick chuckled. “You mean when I was getting chemo for the first time, and I was pissed off and depressed and didn’t want to talk to anyone, but you starting blabbing at me anyway?”

Claire giggled at his perspective on it. “Yep! I wanted to see if the famous Nick Carter thought he was too good to talk to me, even if we were in the exact same position. That’s why I started talking to you, you know.”

Nick snorted. “Nice. Guess I’m glad I wasn’t too good for you, huh? I woulda missed out on knowing you.”

“Aww…” She was surprised to feel herself blush a little at the compliment. A little hokey, but endearingly sweet. “Well, I’m glad I decided to talk to you, no matter the reason. And I’m glad you proved me wrong.”

“Me too.”

There was a pause, in which she looked down at Caitlin. The baby had fallen asleep, her small pink lips pursed into almost a smile, and the sight made Claire smile too. Happiness bubbled inside her, warm and satisfying.

What different lives they led, she and Nick. He was a world famous popstar on tour, and she was now a mother at home with her new babies. He’d been in a different part of the country every night that week, and she hadn’t left her condo since bringing Cait and Lainey home. Yet, in a twist of fate, their paths had once crossed, and they would forever be a part of each other’s very different lives. It was a comfort to know that she could always count on him, that she’d always have a friendship with the man she’d once thought too arrogant to give her the time of day.

He made her feel calm and content even when she was most frazzled, and as she talked to him late into the night, continuing to rock Caitlin without waking her, Claire thanked fate for bringing him into her life… and not allowing her to push him out of it.

***