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Chapter 42

Nick didn’t realize he was jiggling his foot until he felt a firm hand on his bouncing knee and Claire’s hushed voice in his ear. “You’re gonna pull something if you don’t quit that… Thumper,” she added impishly.

Nick smirked, his face growing warm. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing his heel against the tiled floor. “It’s just this place – it gets me all…” He searched for the right word. “… jittery.”

“You’re not alone there,” replied Claire, patting his knee again. “But you have no reason to be nervous… right?” She questioned him with her eyes, a meaningful expression on her face.

Nick’s stomach did a familiar flip-flop. He knew what she meant – You’ve been feeling fine, right? You haven’t been hiding anything from me?

He had been feeling fine… great, in fact, ever since they’d come back from California a month ago. His reunion with his family had lifted a weight from his shoulders that had been there for over a year, and the plans for the next Backstreet album left him with something to look forward to. He and Claire’s relationship had never been better – there were the occasional spats, of course, mostly over stupid little things, but he supposed that came with the territory. They’d finally started discussing wedding dates, and although they hadn’t settled on anything yet, he’d already caught her looking at white dresses on the internet. In fact, the magazine she had opened in her lap was a bridal one, turned to a spread on bridesmaids’ gowns for all shapes, sizes, and complexions.

With all of that going on, it didn’t seem that his doctor’s appointment that day should be anything to worry about. For once, his life seemed in order, and he felt both healthy and happy – it had been a long time since that had been the case. But the few years had left him far too cynical to believe that nothing would rain on his parade and ruin all of that. The dark cloud of cancer always threatened, tarnishing a blue sky that would otherwise seem endless. It could burst at anytime, even when he was least expecting it, and drown his happiness with misery.

He’d been feeling perfectly fine though, and after two-and-a-half years of battling this disease, he felt he should at least be able to know when something wasn’t right. He’d hidden suspicious symptoms before, denied them even to himself, but he’d always known, deep down, that they were there. There was nothing this time though, no indications of another relapse.

And yet, as he sat in the waiting room of the oncology clinic next to Claire, he still felt tense and edgy. It was just a regular check-up, he tried to tell himself, the same kind he had every three months. But there was no use. The queasy sensation of butterflies that had settled in his stomach was there to stay, and he knew it would not go away until he got a clean bill of health from Dr. Kingsbury.

“Nick? Right??”

With a jolt, Nick realized he’d never answered her question, and now she was looking at him with alarm in her eyes. “Oh - right,” he answered quickly, mentally cursing himself for scaring her like that. “Seriously,” he added, noticing her look of skepticism. “I’m sorry, I was just spacing – but yes, I’ve been feeling good.” He flashed her a quick smile, hoping it would mask his nervousness, yet knowing it wouldn’t. Claire could see right through him in times like these, but he didn’t care – she knew because she’d been here, more times than he had, and having someone with him who could understand his feelings perfectly made it a little easier. At least he didn’t have to play Tough Guy in front of her. She’d be there to hold his hand when they shoved a needle into his hip to get a bone marrow sample, and she wouldn’t think any less of him if his eyes watered from the pain.

“Good,” she said softly, offering him a reassuring smile in return. “Then I’m sure everything will be fine.” Her eyes dropped back to her magazine, but her hand reached over and took his, giving it a gentle squeeze as she turned the page with her other. They sat in silence until a nurse came to call him back.

Half an hour later, they were sitting in silence again, this time in a small examining room, as they waited for Dr. Kingsbury to come in. Nick tried not to fidget; the roll of paper between him and the leather-padded examining table crinkled noisily every time he moved even the slightest amount, but he couldn’t help but be restless. Excluding bone marrow aspirations, the waiting was the worst part of his doctor’s appointments, as far as he was concerned.

Luckily, Dr. Kingsbury didn’t keep them waiting for too long. With a brief knock on the door, she strode into the room, looking professional as always in her crisp, tailored white coat. “Good morning, Nick, Claire,” she greeted them each with warm smiles. “It’s a beautiful day out, isn’t it? I just ran to my car to pick up some paperwork that I forgot, and I can’t get over how cool it is.”

It was a nice day – clear blue skies, temperatures in the upper seventies (unseasonably cool for a Florida September), a slight breeze, and not too much humidity. It was perfect weather for boating, but Nick knew he wouldn’t feel much like taking his boat out once Dr. Kingsbury got done with him. Still, he smiled and replied, “Yeah, it’s nice.”

Claire chimed in with, “I know; I can’t believe this weather. I have a friend in Iowa, and he said it’s still in the nineties up there. It’s crazy.”

Jamie? When had she talked to him? Nick cast her a questioning look, but her eyes were on Dr. Kingsbury, who at that moment clasped her hands together and said, “Well, I know you hate to be stuck inside this place when it’s so nice outside, but I’ll try to have you out of here before too long. So let’s get down to business – Nick, how have you been feeling? Any complaints?”

“None,” he said, shaking his head, glad he could say so honestly.

“Great to hear. I trust your stump is fully healed by now?”

Nick grimaced; he’d forgotten his last appointment had been the week after he’d landed himself in the hospital with the infected stump ulcer. “Yeah,” he answered quickly, “it’s all good now.”

“Good. Well, then, let’s get this over with.”

With a grim smile, Nick nodded, the paper crinkling beneath him as he shifted his weight once more.

***

“Well, you glad that’s over with?” Claire asked, tightening her arm around Nick’s torso.

Nick shot her a look. “Do you even need to ask?” She just laughed and shook her head, knowing just how glad he was. Walking out of the oncology clinic was usually a great feeling (unless you’d gotten bad news, which, thank God, he had not). The utter relief at knowing that the appointment was over and that you would not have to endure another one for months was strong enough to overshadow even the pain of a bone marrow aspiration, which he’d had done in his hip. Claire could tell he was sore and that it hurt him to walk, but he’d stubbornly refused a wheelchair. That was no surprise; he always did, and so she had done what she always did – throw his arm across her shoulders, slide her arm around his back, and help him shuffle along.

Noticing a bench pressed up against the wall in the hallway in front of them, she spoke up, “Hey, I hate to do this to you, but… I gotta pee.” With an apologetic look, she added, “Can you sit on that bench for a minute and wait for me?”

“Sure,” Nick replied, and she guided him to the bench and helped him sit without bumping his tender side too much.

Offering him a sheepish smile, she said, “Thanks. I’ll be right back.” She scurried off, hoping there wouldn’t be a line in the ladies room. She hated to leave him sitting all alone in the middle of a hallway when he was hurting and probably wanting to go home, but damn, she’d been holding it through most of his appointment.

She found the women’s restroom and went inside, relieved to find it deserted. She did her business, and as she stood at the sink, quickly washing her hands, the bathroom door opened. Claire glanced into the mirror briefly as a woman dressed in scrubs walked in, the soles of her tennis shoes squeaking against the tiled floor. Claire’s eyes lowered, then shot back up again as she did a double take, realizing she recognized the nurse. “Shauna?”

The older woman stopped abruptly, doing a similar double take. “Oh my goodness! Claire??”

Claire smiled into the mirror and turned around to face her. Shauna had been her day nurse during her bone marrow transplant two years ago, taking care of her for the entire five weeks she had stayed in the hospital. Claire was glad to run into her, but she couldn’t deny that the sight of her face brought back a lot of bad memories from those five weeks, when she’d lain in total isolation, fighting for her life against the complications of the transplant. Still, it was good to see Shauna now and know that all that was behind her.

“You look great!” Shauna said enthusiastically. “How are you doing?”

“Great,” Claire replied with a smile. Then, unable to hold back, she thrust out her left hand and, beaming, added, “I got engaged.”

Shauna gasped comically and snatched her hand for a closer look at the ring. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she inhaled and then looked back up at Claire, her eyes flashing eagerly. “So,” she probed, “who’s the lucky guy?”

“His name’s Nick,” answered Claire, unsure if Shauna would recognize the name or not.

“Nick…” Shauna repeated slowly, as if she were tossing his name around in her head. “Not the Backstreet Boy…?”

Claire grinned. “That’s the one.”

“Ah…” Shauna nodded knowingly, a broad smile stretching across her face. “Of course. I remember him coming to visit you. He seemed very nice. How’s he doing? I heard he had a rough year.” Her lively eyes clouded with sympathy.

Claire nodded. “He did. But he’s doing fine. Things are good for both of us.”

“I’m glad to hear that, hon,” Shauna said with sincerity. “So what are you doing here today? Appointment, or did you come to see Casey?”

“Nick had an appointment; I just came with-“ She paused, cocking her head to the side. “Wait, did you say… Casey’s here??” In her mind’s eye, she saw the toothy grin of the little boy she’d gotten to know during her first stay in the hospital, right after she was diagnosed with leukemia. Casey had also had leukemia, and in fact, Shauna had also been his nurse when he’d undergone a bone marrow transplant that same year. After seeing how sweet she was around the child, Claire had remembered her three years later, when it came time for her own transplant.

Shauna’s cheeks darkened, and her eyes shifted. “Yes… he’s been here for a few days,” she answered slowly, seeming to realize she’d let something slip.

Claire felt her heartbeat accelerate, and she swallowed with difficulty. “A few days? Wh-what happened?” She feared the worst – that his transplant had failed, or that his leukemia had come back. But no… it had been five years since his transplant… surely he couldn’t have relapsed?

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you much else.” Shauna shrugged apologetically. “You know about the patient confidentiality. I shouldn’t have mentioned him at all. I just thought maybe… well, I remember how attached he got to you when he was little.”

Claire nodded slowly, Shauna’s words echoing in her head. When he was little… Casey was eleven years old now. Still a child, but no longer the little six-year-old she remembered. “I haven’t seen him in years,” she admitted, somewhat regrettably. “I hear from his mom maybe once or twice a year, but other than that…” She stopped and shrugged. “I didn’t know he was here. Did his transplant-?” She stopped herself from finishing the question, knowing Shauna wouldn’t be able to answer it. “Can he have visitors?” she asked instead. “Maybe I’ll pop by and see him…” She suddenly remembered poor Nick, waiting for her in the hall, and added hastily, “sometime.”

Shauna nodded. “Yes, I’m sure he’d love to see you, Claire. He’s in room 518.”

“Thanks, Shauna,” Claire said. “I should probably get going… Nick’s waiting for me.”

“Sure, hon. It was great to see you,” Shauna replied, touching her arm warmly. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t. Good to see you too,” Claire returned the sentiments. When she left the bathroom a moment later, she walked as fast as she could up the hall and around the corner to where she had left Nick. He was still there, slumped on the bench with his body slightly twisted to the left to take the weight off his right side, from which they’d extracted the bone marrow. He straightened slightly when he saw her coming and smirked up at her.

“Didja fall in or something?” he teased. He was smiling playfully, but she thought he looked pale. Just when she was regretting leaving him there for so long, the smile vanished from his face, and he asked in concern, “Claire? Are you okay, babe? You look kinda pale.”

Claire broke into a smile; funny how she had just been thinking that about him. “I’m always pale; you know that,” she joked lightly. Seeing that he wasn’t placated, she assured him, “I’m fine. I just ran into Shauna, my transplant nurse. Do you remember her?” She described Shauna quickly, and he nodded vaguely. “I’m sorry for making you wait this long; we just started talking and getting caught up, and-“ She thought of Casey and felt her heart flip-flop with worry.

“And what?” asked Nick, apparently noticing.

“You remember that little boy Casey I told you about? I have a few pictures of him in my scrapbook – the one I met in the hospital when-“

“Yeah, I remember,” Nick interjected. “Has something happened to him?”

“Shauna told me he’s back in the hospital, but she couldn’t say why – confidentiality, you know.” Claire rolled her eyes to show her annoyance at the policy. “I want to go visit him. God, I hope it’s not…” Trailing off, she shook her head, sure that Nick could figure out what she hoped it was not.

“Now?”

“No… let’s get you home first. Maybe I’ll come back up later. Or tomorrow.”

“Well, we’re here now… I’ll walk down with you if you want to at least go check things out, see how he is,” Nick offered.

Touched, Claire smiled, but shook her head. “No, I won’t make you do that. You need to be sitting down, not following me around the oncology ward.”

“Babe, sitting down isn’t that comfortable either,” said Nick with a crooked smile, shifting his weight to his left side again. “I’d rather be lying across this bench on my stomach right now, but I’d probably get looks if I did that.”

Claire smiled and touched his shoulder gently. “True. Well, it’s up to you, but don’t feel like you have to be all tough and do this with me right now. I think we should go home, but-“

“But first we’re going to go see what’s up with Casey,” Nick interrupted her firmly. “I’m fine, and I can tell you’re worried about him. Let’s go find out where his room is and see what the deal is.”

“518,” Claire said with a tiny smile. “Are you sure, Nick?”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna drop dead on you, Ren,” said Nick with a smirk. “You’ve had more bone marrows than I have – the pain’s not that bad. I’ll live.”

“Smartass,” she smirked back. She was more concerned about his ability to walk than the amount of pain he was in – he tried to play it off, but she knew it was harder for him to walk on his prosthesis when his hip was stiff and sore. He knew his limits though, and if he said he felt up to sticking around while she went to see Casey, she’d let him. She was too concerned about what was wrong with Casey to argue with him. “Alright, Stumpy, haul your ass up then.” She offered him her hand, and he took it, boosting himself up off the bench with the other while she helped pull him to his feet. She waited until he had found his balance and then looped her arm around him again as they set off down the hall.

“518?” Nick asked.

Claire nodded. “Yep. 518.”

***