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Chapter 49

“Hey, Claire! How was your weekend?” Laureen asked when Claire came into work the next morning.

Claire fought the urge to laugh. “It was, um… interesting,” she answered, and when Laureen gave her a curious look, she added, “Kind of a long story… I don’t really wanna get into it now.” She shrugged apologetically, but Laureen just smiled and nodded.

“I understand. I hope everything’s okay?”

Claire nodded, forcing herself to return the smile. “Everything’s fine.”

But was it? She had gone to bed the night before thinking it was. It should have been anyway - the rash had turned out to be nothing and would go away in a few days’ time with the cream she’d been sent home with, and Jamie was back in Iowa, safe and sound; he’d called to let her know earlier that evening, when his flight had landed. Everything was back to normal.

But it wasn’t. And as Nick slept soundly beside her, she’d tossed and turned, her mind ablaze with rampant thoughts. Thoughts of him. He was leaving first thing Tuesday morning to fly out to California and start work on the next Backstreet album. Neither of them knew when he would be back. He’d already offered to delay the trip… a few days, even a few weeks… to be with her. She’d told him no… partly because he’d made a commitment to the guys months ago to do this, and partly because… well… maybe it would be better to be apart from him for awhile. It would give her a chance to spend some time alone and think… really think. About him… about their relationship… about everything.

And yet, she knew she would miss him. In the ten months they’d been a couple, they’d never gone more than a few days without seeing each other. This was going to be something new. It felt weird to think that after Monday, she’d be sleeping in this huge bed and living in this huge house all alone. She wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

“Are you sure?” Laureen’s voice jarred her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see a concerned expression on her friend’s face. “You look… distracted.”

“I’m sorry, I’m spacing,” Claire said with an apologetic smile. “Seriously, I’m fine; I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” Lowering her voice a little, she added sheepishly, “Nick’s leaving for LA tomorrow morning to meet up with the guys and get to work on their next album.”

Laureen’s reaction was priceless - an undeniable flicker of excitement (over the mention of the new album, no doubt), quickly replaced by a look of sympathy. “Aww… I’m sorry. That’s gotta be rough on you, having him gone like that.”

Claire nodded, wishing that was the only thing bothering her. It would certainly be harder to let him go if he hadn’t kissed another woman on Friday… but at least she would have been able to do it with peace of mind, knowing that their relationship was solid and strong, that nothing but physical miles would come between them while they were apart. She didn’t have that sense of security now.

There was no doubt in her mind that Nick loved her. He’d told her hundreds of time and showed it a million times over. What had happened that past weekend hadn’t been intentional. He’d made a mistake. She understood that. But that didn’t make it any easier to get over. She could forgive… but she would not forget, not anytime soon. That phone conversation, the sound of that woman’s voice in her ear, taunting her, would continue to haunt her, lingering in her memory like a bad smell in a small room. Nick’s indiscretion was a blemish on their relationship… not big enough to ruin everything, but enough to mar the near perfection of what they’d had. With time, though, blemishes disappeared. Unless, of course, they scarred. Scars… those never went away.

“Claire?”

Claire looked up, realizing she was doing it again. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly to Laureen. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be weird, having him gone…”

“I know. Well, if you need someone to help you take your mind off things when you start missing him, give me a call anytime,” offered Laureen with a friendly smile.

Claire returned the smile appreciatively. “Thanks.” Forcing herself to stop thinking of Nick, she asked, “So how was your weekend?”

“It was pretty good. Tim and I just hung out. We went to a movie on Friday night and caught the FSU football game on TV on Saturday.”

“Sounds like a nice weekend. What movie did you see?”

“He took me to this old theater called The Empress, and we saw ‘The Birds.’ You know, that old movie about… well, birds?” Laureen giggled. “Anyway, it was cool. Have you been to that theater before? It’s really neat on the inside.”

Claire chuckled weakly – so much for not thinking of Nick. “Yeah… I’ve been there. I love that place. So, ‘The Birds,’ huh? Bet Tim enjoyed that one.”

Laureen gave her a questioning smile. “Yeah, he did… why?”

Claire shrugged, fighting hard to keep a straight face. “I just know Tim likes birds,” she said. Looking away so that Laureen would not see her smirk, she glanced up at the clock and realized her first appointment was scheduled to arrive in ten minutes. “Well, I should probably get to work.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Laureen. “See you later!”

“See ya, Laureen.”

They left the break room together and parted in the hallway, each heading to their own workspaces. Glad for something to keep her busy and take her mind off of Nick, Claire started setting up for her first patient.

***

Half-heartedly, Nick tossed a pair of socks in the general direction of his suitcase, frowning when they bounced off the bed and rolled across the floor. He wandered around to the other side of the bed and bent down, grunting, to retrieve them. He tucked them neatly alongside a pile of boxers inside the suitcase and then sat down on his bed, sighing to himself. He didn’t want to be doing this now; he hated packing. He wanted to get it done early though, for he was planning to drop by the hospital to visit Casey for awhile that afternoon, and once Claire got home from work, he intended to spend the rest of the day with her, making the most of his last night in town.

It was going to be hard leaving her tomorrow morning, that was for sure. He was looking forward to getting back to the career he loved; he’d been away from it for too long. But he hated to leave Claire behind, especially after this past weekend. He’d been so afraid of losing her… in more ways than one. And even though he knew she was all right, health-wise, he wasn’t sure if their relationship was. They’d kissed and made up the day before, sure, but that wasn’t a fix-all. Tension lingered whenever they were in the same room, and their conversations were strained and oddly formal.

It was agonizing for Nick. Usually being with Claire put him at ease; he’d always felt so comfortable around her, knowing he didn’t have to be a certain person or act a certain way in her presence. But for the past twenty-four hours, he’d been walking on eggshells around her, terrified of making the wrong move and putting another crack in their precariously mended relationship. Maybe it would be good to get away for awhile… it would give her time to think and heal, him to clear his head and escape.

He felt sort of like escaping now, he realized, as he glanced at his half-packed suitcase. Maybe he’d take a break and head up to the hospital now. He wanted to check up on Casey and stop in to say goodbye to the kid if he was well enough for a visit. Hanging around at the hospital wasn’t any big treat, especially with Casey as sick as he had been all last week. But Nick felt obligated to go, and he might as well get it over with. Sliding off the bed, he looked around for his shoes and sat down again to put them on.

Half an hour later, the soles of his shoes squeaked against the off-white floor tiles in the oncology ward. As he made the familiar trek through the hallways, he realized he probably knew every inch of this floor of the hospital by now: the outpatient clinic, the private suites he’d occupied during his stays there, the ICU he’d fought pneumonia inside, the isolation unit where Claire had undergone her bone marrow transplant, and now – he slowed down, swallowing hard as the bland walls turned bright with painted designs in bold, primary colors – the pediatric unit.

He stopped at the small nurses’ station and recognized one of the nurses, Erica. She worked there most afternoons when he came to see Casey, so they were on a first-name basis by now. “Good morning, Nick,” she smiled up at him from over a computer screen. “You’re early today.”

Nick shrugged. “Yeah, I’m leaving town tomorrow and got sick of packing.”

“Ooh, vacation?”

“I wish,” Nick laughed. “Nah, it’s a… business trip.” He smirked; he got a kick out of calling it that. Technically, it was a business trip – he was going to LA to work, after all – but he’d always associated the term ‘business trip’ with the image of a stiff middle-aged man wearing a crisp suit and carrying a leather briefcase. Somehow he couldn’t see himself ever quite fitting that bill.

“Ahh,” said Erica with a knowing smile. She was fairly young, probably around thirty or so – she knew who he was and what he did for a living. “Well, good luck with that, and have a safe trip.”

“Thanks,” Nick smiled. “So, how’s Casey doing today?”

“A lot better, actually,” the nurse replied. “His fever’s down, and it looks like the infection is going away. He’s been awake and talking most of the morning, so I’m sure he’ll be glad for a visit.”

Nick smiled again, this time in relief. “Good,” he said, grateful for the encouraging news.

Erica ushered him into the isolation unit, which was separated from the regular pedes rooms by sliding doors that required a code to get through. He washed his hands and quickly got ‘gowned up,’ throwing a green surgical gown over his clothes and putting on the cap, mask, and shoe-covers like a pro. When he was ready, Erica let him go into Casey’s room.

Casey still looked frail beneath his bedcovers, but the head of his bed was raised most of the way today, propping him up, and his smile when he saw Nick brightened his otherwise sallow face, making him look a hundred times better. “Hey, Nick!” he said. His voice was still weak and slightly hoarse, but Nick could hear the trace of excitement in it and felt himself automatically smile back.

“Hey, Case, what’s up?” Nick replied, taking a seat beside Casey’s bed.

Casey shrugged. “Not much. There’s nothing to do here.”

Nick smiled at that and nodded in empathy. “Oh, don’t I know it. They need to install an arcade in this place… and a movie theater too… maybe an auditorium or something, you know, for concerts? Get some bands to come and entertain y’all.”

“Like who, you?” Casey asked, and Nick was surprised to see a playful smirk on his face. The kid was being sarcastic – he had just gotten dissed by an eleven-year-old boy.

“‘Like who, you?’” Nick mocked good-naturedly, rolling his eyes at Casey as if he were offended. “And what would be wrong with that?”

“You’re in the Backstreet Boys. Only girls like them.”

Nick arched an eyebrow. “Well, that’s all the more reason to go to a Backstreet show – lots and lots of girls there. You won’t have much competition, cause most of us have girlfriends. Except Howie, but no one likes him anyway.” He winked and smiled devilishly, suddenly wishing Howie were there – there was nothing more fun than ripping on poor D.

Casey wrinkled his nose. “Girls suck,” he muttered.

Nick chuckled. “Why’s that? Cooties?” he asked, amused.

Now Casey rolled his eyes, as if to say, Duh, I’m eleven, I don’t believe in cooties anymore. “No… they just suck.”

“I guess some of them do,” Nick nodded, “but not all girls suck. Claire’s a girl… and she doesn’t suck, does she?”

Casey shook his head impatiently. “Claire’s a woman,” he corrected, and Nick fought the urge to laugh at the way he stressed the word ‘woman.’

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. She acts like a kid sometimes though,” Nick said with another wink. “So you like women then, huh?”

At that, Casey blushed, his whole face turning bright red. It was quite comical. “No… I just don’t like girls,” he repeated, obviously flustered and a little embarrassed. Nick backed off, remembering what it was like to be eleven, right between cooties and crushes.

“So I take it you’re a free man then – no girlfriend at school? That’s the way to do it, dude, don’t get tied down,” he kidded lightly.

“I did have a girlfriend, but she dumped me,” Casey admitted, flushing another shade of scarlet. Seeing how dejected he looked suddenly, Nick realized he was being serious and quit the teasing banter.

“Aw, that’s rough,” he offered. “I’m sorry. What happened?” It suddenly felt ridiculous to be having this conversation with a fifth-grader – he didn’t remember kids having girlfriends or boyfriends when he was in fifth grade, but then again, he’d always been sort of a misfit at school, so maybe they did and he just wasn’t aware of it…

“When she found out I was in the hospital, she had her mom bring her here to see me. She didn’t stay for long, and then the next day at school I guess she went around and told everyone I was dying – that’s what my friend Tyler told me – and then her best friend Katie IMed Tyler and told him that she didn’t wanna go out with me anymore. I guess she couldn’t handle this,” said Casey, looking around the room.

There seemed to be an aura of maturity surrounding the eleven-year-old at that moment, and Nick was struck by it, and also by how much he could relate. He knew exactly what ‘this’ encompassed, and he nodded his empathy. “That really sucks,” he said with sincerity. “Some girls really can’t handle it… you just gotta wait for the right one to come along, someone who understands.” Like Claire, he thought, realizing again how lucky he was to have someone like her in his life. “But don’t worry,” he added. “The good news is, you’re young, and so is she. Girls can be silly and mean when they’re your age, but eventually they grow up, and they turn out all right.” All of a sudden, Leah’s face flashed in his mind, and he added quickly, “Well, most of them do anyway.”

Casey nodded and shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m over her now anyway.”

Nick tried to hide his smile. “Good for you. Any girl who has her best friend dump you over IM isn’t worth your time. So do you get to talk to your other friends from school a lot?”

Casey shrugged again, then shook his head. “Not really… Tyler came to visit me a few times, but then he stopped. And my class sent me a big get-well card that everybody signed, but I know it’s only cause my teacher made them.”

Nick wished he hadn’t asked that last question. “You know what it is, don’t you? They’re probably just scared. Not of you, but of the hospital and of being sick. It’s tough to have to see your friend sick and hurting, you know?” Casey nodded silently, and Nick added, “’Course, it’s tough to be the one sick and hurting too. I know how it feels. Some of my friends got kind of weird about it too, and we don’t hang out that much anymore. But you know what? It’s okay, cause I have other friends. And I’ve made some new friends – Claire and you.”

“Me?” Casey looked slightly happier, which made Nick feel better.

“Yeah, you,” he repeated. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Casey nodded, smiling. The smile sent a wave of guilt crashing over Nick as he realized he was leaving town the very next day. How was he going to tell Casey he was going to California and didn’t know when he’d be back? With the kid as sick as he’d been the whole last week, Nick hadn’t had a chance to warn him earlier. Now it seemed much too short of notice, especially after the conversation they’d just had.

He cleared his throat, deciding he better just go ahead and tell him now, rather than later. The sooner the better, right? “Um, so… that reminds me, I got something to tell you,” he began. “The other… the other Backstreet Boys and I, we’re getting together this week to start working on songs for our next CD.”

“Oh,” Casey said, nodding with slight interest in his eyes, despite his earlier comment about ‘the Backstreet Boys.”

“Yeah, it’s cool; I’m excited about it,” Nick went on. “The only thing is – we’re going to Los Angeles to do it.”

“You’re going to California?” Casey asked, eyes widening. “When?”

“Um… tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Casey’s face fell, and Nick’s heart sank right along with it.

“Yeah, buddy… I’m sorry this is such short notice, but I didn’t get a chance to tell you last week.”

“How long will you be there?” Casey wondered.

“I’m not sure yet,” Nick confessed. “But we can still talk – I’ll call you if you want; how would that be?”

Casey shrugged. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry; I know that’s not really the same thing,” apologized Nick. “Part of me doesn’t really want to go… but I have to. This is my job, you know? And I love what I do. It’s just hard to have to travel and be away from home sometimes.”

“I understand,” Casey nodded. “My mom says that about her job too. She doesn’t have to go all the way to California… but she doesn’t like having to go to work while I’m here. She has to though, to make money.”

“It’s tough work being an adult sometimes, you know that?” Nick said with a wry smile. “Enjoy being a kid while you can.”

As soon as he said it, the advice sounded dumb to him. How was Casey supposed to enjoy being a kid when he was trapped in the hospital, being pumped full of toxic drugs that made him sick while he fought his third battle against cancer? He’d been at war with this for over half of his young life. The realization made Nick feel sick to his stomach.

“Hey, would it be alright if I called you tomorrow morning while I’m on my flight to Cali?” he asked quickly, determined to change the subject. “It’s a long plane ride, and I don’t really like flying.”

“Really, you don’t? I love it! I wanna be a pilot when I grow up. This one time, my dad took me to see the Blue Angels, and it was sooo awesome! I wanna learn to fly and do tricks and stuff like that.”

The very thought of doing flips and barrel rolls in one of those little planes made Nick want to hurl, but he forced a smile and said, “That would rock. If Star Fox is any indicator, I bet you’d kick butt at it.”

Casey beamed with pride, looking perfectly happy again. “Thanks. And sure you can call me from the plane. If you’re not using the barf bag, anyway.” Casey’s dark eyes flashed devilishly, and Nick couldn’t help but smile. He was no different from any other eleven-year-old boy – nothing funnier than a barf bag on an airplane. Nick didn’t find them quite so amusing anymore; in a decade of flying all over the world, he’d had the misfortune of using quite a few of them.

“Well, hopefully you’ll be able to talk to me, if you’re not using that thing,” he shot back playfully, pointing to the nearby emesis basin. Casey wrinkled his nose at the sight of it, but grinned, ready for the challenge. Nick knew he’d be able to take the teasing; he was a tough kid. Claire had always said he was, and it was true. He’d never understood how she could stand being around children with cancer – it seemed so depressing. But now he did. Kids like Casey needed someone to talk to, someone who understood what they were going through when few others did. And from Nick’s standpoint, it was kind of refreshing to hang out with the kid. Casey had such a mix of innocence and wisdom beyond his years; it intrigued him.

And as he made a mental note to get the phone number for Casey’s hospital room before he left that day, Nick realized something else – not only was he going to miss Claire; he was going to miss Casey too.

***