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Chapter 85

“So, what’s the verdict?” Dianna asked Saturday morning, as she and Claire walked out of the Hillsborough Fertility and Gynecology Clinic. Claire took a breath of fresh air before answering, relieved to be out of the doctor’s office. She had gotten used to submitting her body to a physician’s examination, but being poked and prodded… well, down there… was always uncomfortable.

“About what we all thought – The Pill’s doing a shitty-ass job at boosting my hormones the way it’s supposed to, so they’re all out of whack, and my body hasn’t been making enough estrogen, so I’ve been cranky and weepy and impulsive, and my bones are wearing down, but now I’m going to start a more powerful hormone replacement therapy and take more calcium, so I should be good to go,” Claire summarized what her doctor had spent the last half an hour talking to her about in fifteen seconds and flashed her best friend a smile.

Dianna blinked. “Okay, half of that just went over my head, Claire, but I’ll take your word for it,” she said with a laugh as she unlocked her car so that the two of them could get in. “Well, since you’re ‘good to go,’ how about we hit Starbucks on the way home? I was craving a mocha the whole time I was sitting in that waiting room!”

Claire offered her a sympathetic face. “I’m sorry for making you sit and wait so long for me,” she said apologetically, but Dianna quickly waved her off.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, girl! That’s what friends are for, right? I didn’t mind… but I will mind not getting my mocha, so…”

“To Starbucks we go,” Claire concluded with a smile.

Triumphantly, Dianna started the engine, then paused and glanced over at Claire. “Unless you’d rather get home. I mean, if your arm’s hurting, or… well, god knows what they did to you in there. Are you up to going? Cause I can always stop and get myself a mocha after I drop you off…”

“No, it’s fine, Di!” Claire insisted, laughing at her friend’s concern. “Seriously, I’m fine, and a mocha sounds good to me too. Now come on, put that car into reverse before you faint from lack of caffeine.”

Dianna grinned widely and threw the car into gear, guiding it in the direction of the nearest Starbucks.

“Not too busy… good,” Dianna observed, nodding her approval as she and Claire strolled into the small coffee shop a few minutes later.

Claire glanced at the clock on the wall. “Eh, it’s mid-morning… guess we’re past the morning rush and too early for the after-lunchers. Perfect timing.”

“Definitely.” Dianna led the way to the counter, where she lingered over the menu, carefully studying her choices. “Ooh, look,” she said, pointing out a sign. “They’ve got a mint white chocolate mocha… for St. Patty’s Day. Isn’t that still like a month away?”

“Yeah, but what other holiday comes between Valentine’s Day and St. Patty’s that they can make a coffee for? Nada. Besides, I like St. Patrick’s Day,” Claire remarked.

Dianna laughed. “Don’t I know it. You and Jamie… ye wee Irish folk. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how the two of you pinched me all day that one year I didn’t wear green to school on St. Patty’s.”

“You deserved every pinch you got! Not wearing green on St. Patty’s Day… for shame, Dianna!” Claire gasped, acting appalled by the memory.

“Hmph,” Dianna sniffed. “Green wasn’t in that season. It’s not my color anyway.”

“Green’s always in on St. Patrick’s Day, dipshit,” retorted Claire, giving her a playful smack with her good arm.

“Excuse me, can I take your order?” came a droning voice. Both women looked over to see the college-age kid behind the counter staring at them, a long-suffering expression etched upon his face.

Dianna stepped forward at once. “I haven’t decided yet,” she chirped brightly to the bored-looking barista, “but I think she’s getting your new mint mocha thing.”

She pointed to Claire, who promptly made a face and told the kid instead, “No, I’ll have a tall caramel latte, please. Not a big fan of the mint,” she added to Dianna. “Nick would have gotten it though.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying, and when she saw the surprised look on Dianna’s face, she felt her own cheeks heating up.

Dianna didn’t say anything right then, turning back to the menu instead, but a few minutes after she and Claire had sat down with their drinks, she arched her perfectly-sculpted eyebrows and said, “So… Nick, huh? Talked to him at all lately?”

Claire blushed again. “The other day,” she answered. “He called when he heard about the accident… just to make sure I was okay and all.”

“Yeah?” Dianna was clearly fishing for more. “Was that it, or did you two talk?”

“Sure, we talked. Not about ‘us’ though. Just about… well, you know… what’s been going on in each other’s lives. He’s easy to talk to. It was nice to get caught up.”

“Nice? You mean it wasn’t weird?”

“Well, yeah, of course it was weird,” Claire replied, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean… of course. I broke up with him. I walked out on him. It’s bound to be weird for awhile. But I’m glad he called, and I’m glad we talked. I still care about him, and I don’t want to cut him out of my life. I…”

I love him, the words formed in her mind, but she did not say them, choosing to let the sentence trail off instead.

“The two of you are something else,” said Dianna, shaking her head. “How you can dump a guy and then be friends with him amazes me. And Nick… no offense, girl, but the fact that he’s even still civil to you amazes me too. If someone broke up with me in a letter, I’d never speak to him again. Likewise, if a guy gave me a reason to break up with him in a letter, I’d probably never speak to him again.”

“That’s cause you’re a vengeful bitch,” Claire inserted with a teasing smile.

Dianna considered this a moment. “True,” she conceded quickly. “But you two…”

“We were engaged, Di,” Claire said quietly. “It’s different. It’s harder to let go of someone who you thought you were going to marry.” Feeling awkward, she took a sip of her drink. But as soon as the coffee hit her stomach, she felt nauseous. “I don’t even know if I was right to break things off with him in the first place,” she confessed in a rush, unable stop herself. “I mean, what you said about a guy giving you a reason to break up with him in a letter… that’s the thing – Nick didn’t give me a reason. I had my reasons, sure, but it wasn’t like there was one major thing he did that caused it. I-it was me… I caused it. I was doubting ‘us’ then, and now I’m doubting my decision to end ‘us’.”

“Well, that’s normal,” replied Dianna. “Who doesn’t wonder things like that after a break-up? Especially one as big as this. But you can’t blame yourself for everything. Sure, you were the one who actually did the dumping, but maybe it was one of those things that needed to happen. Someone needed to do it, before you ended up in a marriage you weren’t happy in.”

“There were a lot of reasons I wasn’t happy though,” Claire murmured, swirling her coffee around in its cup. “My dad had had a heart attack… Casey was dying… and now I find out I wasn’t exactly well either. I saw the signs of the whole hormone thing, and I ignored them because I just didn’t want to deal with that on top of everything else. But in the meantime, I pushed Nick away…”

“Maybe so, but Nick’s no saint either. You can’t talk about him like he was totally innocent in all of this, because don’t forget, he walked out on you once too. And he didn’t even leave a note,” Dianna defended her sharply.

Claire knew she should have appreciated her best friend trying to help her justify her actions, but she only groaned, feeling worse. God, the note. What the hell had she been thinking when she wrote it? She was not in her right frame of mind; that was for sure. But once he’d read it, there was no taking it back.

“I know, but that was different,” she argued dully. “He needed to get away that night because he was afraid… afraid for me. I walked out on him because I needed to get away too… but I was just thinking about myself. And besides, Nick came back. But I… I left that fucking note on the steps and drove away, and I didn’t come back. Not until it was pretty obvious that it was over anyway.” She set her drink down roughly, almost upending it, and shook her head regretfully. “What a shitty thing to do. All I can think is that I took the easy way out… and ran over his poor heart in the process.”

“Oh, don’t be melodramatic – that’s my thing,” Dianna snapped, giving her a cross look. “Look, maybe the whole note thing wasn’t such a nice way to do it, but did you ever stop to think that staying with him would have been taking the easy way out?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look at it this way, Claire,” Dianna said and leaned across the table towards her. Lowering her voice, she continued, “You were engaged to Nick Carter. Do you know how many girls would have killed to be you last year? Nick is rich… he’s famous… he could have given you anything. Anything. You could have married him and never had to work again. You could have toured the world with him and been the envy of women everywhere. You could have gone to all the Hollywood parties and red carpet events on his arm, wearing dresses that cost more than my college education, and been treated like a princess. And you know you would have been. That boy loved you. I know I never got to know him that well, but even I could see that. The way he looked at you, Claire… I wish a guy would look at me like that, and not just my boobs.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, Di, it’s not working,” Claire muttered. “I know most women think they would want that kind of life and would say I’m a total idiot for giving it up. But the thing is, I’ve never wanted any of those things! I loved Nick… but that was the stuff I didn’t love. I didn’t want to spend the next decade of my life being herded up and down a red carpet in a tight dress and shoes that hurt my feet, having cameras go off in my face and then being referred to only as “Nick Carter’s wife,” like I’m just some appendage. I want a normal life and a family I can actually spend time with at home. And if that means working and not being able to drive around in a hot little Jaguar, fine by me.”

“I know! See, you’re just proving my point for me. I know these things about you, Claire,” said Dianna, smiling. “I know you’re a homebody who likes the simple life, and even if I do think you’re crazy sometimes, I love you for that. You know who you are and what you want, and the life you would have had with Nick wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. You were smart to realize that and brave to back out of it before you got in over your head. Staying with him would have been the easy thing to do… no drama, and he wouldn’t have gotten hurt… but from the sound of things, you wouldn’t have been happy. What if you’d married him and then spent the rest of your marriage wondering if things might have been different? You know, like maybe there was someone else you might have met, someone who could take your breath away and offer you the kind of future you’ve always wanted. Now you don’t have to wonder. You can just wait and see who comes along next.”

Who comes along next? Claire hadn’t even thought of a “next” yet. First there had been Nick, and now there was no one… but she was okay with that. She wasn’t ready to move on to someone new yet. She wasn’t even sure she was ready to get over Nick.

Skeptical though she was, Claire had to admit, she felt a little better. Dianna did have a point…. maybe she was right. And maybe – hopefully – someone would come along, when the time was right. She would do as Dianna said. She would just wait and see.

***

The next weekend, Aaron Carter could do little but wait. He hopped back and forth from foot to foot, waiting impatiently while Nick dribbled a basketball, purposely taking his time as he prepared to shoot. When he finally took a shot, Aaron practically pounced on the ball as soon as it bounced off the rim and ricocheted back to the driveway. Acting casual, he backed up, dribbling the ball leisurely at his side as he shot Nick a smug smile, as if to say, See? I can make you wait too.

Cute, thought Nick sarcastically, but he said nothing, waiting with his hands on his hips while the little game continued.

“So bro, whatcha been up to lately?” On the word ‘up,’ Aaron finally tossed his basketball in a high arc towards the hoop in the driveway. It dropped into the net effortlessly, falling through with a swish, and Aaron pumped his fist in the air, doing a little victory dance, before returning his attention his brother.

“Oh, same old, same old,” answered Nick, reaching out for the ball as it bounced in his direction.

He was glad he had taken advantage of his free Saturday and come over to hang out with his brother, even if it did mean he’d had to brave his mother’s usual inquest first. He had put up with the awkward small talk with her, but luckily, she had left the house to go shopping in Beverly Hills, leaving him blissfully free to play basketball with Aaron.

Finally getting a hand on the ball, Nick scooped it towards himself and worked it back into a steady dribble. Aaron asked, “Yeah? You guys still in the studio then? How’s the record comin’?”

Nick took a shot before answering. “Good; we’re really happy with how it’s turning out,” he replied. “I think we’re almost done recording… we got a ton of songs by now; we just gotta sit down with the Jive execs and figure out which ones are going on the album.”

Aaron had grabbed the stray ball and jogged back over. “Cool. When do you think it’ll be released?”

“Late spring, early summer, hopefully. Then I’m assuming we’ll tour in the summer or fall. Man, I can’t wait,” said Nick, raking a hand through his sweaty hair.

Surveying him closely, his younger brother nodded. “That’s awesome, man,” he replied. “I’m happy for ya.”

“So how about you? How’s the new material working out?” Nick asked Aaron. His younger brother had been experimenting in the studio on and off since December; he’d probably be releasing another album later in the year too.

“Awesome; I’m lovin’ it so far. I should play some of the new stuff for you.”

“Yeah, I’d love to hear it,” said Nick. “You got anything here?”

“Yeah sure, come on in.” Nick followed his brother into his family’s sprawling home, the home the Carter sons’ money had paid for. “You know, I got a gig next weekend too, a charity thing,” Aaron mentioned as they walked inside. “I’m singin’ mostly old shit, but I was gonna do a new song or two too, if you wanted to come…”

It was a pretty obvious hint, and were it any other weekend, Nick would have taken it gladly and shown. But, as it was… “Aww, sorry, bud, I can’t. I’m gonna be in Tampa next weekend.” When he caught sight of Aaron’s crestfallen expression, Nick explained quickly, “It’s just, Claire’s having surgery on her eyes next week, and I need to go back and make sure she’s okay, see if she needs anything… you know.”

But Aaron did not know, or understand. His disappointed face contorted into an angry scowl as he exclaimed, “What?? Why?!”

“She has cataracts; they-“

“No, fuck that,” Aaron snapped, cutting him off as he waved him aside; “I meant, why the hell are you flying all the way back to Florida for her? She left you, Nick! She doesn’t deserve your fucking pity! She doesn’t deserve anything from you!”

Nick was momentarily surprised by his brother’s sudden outburst, but he tried not to show it. “It’s not like that,” he mumbled in what he hoped was a calm voice, though his pulse had quickened. “We’re still friends… I need to be her friend.” Aaron scoffed and shook his head, and Nick could tell his brother thought he was being a huge pussy, but wasn’t going to say it. “Look, I know that sounds lame, but you don’t understand. I still love her… so what’s the point in acting hateful, like I don’t care? I do care, and I’m gonna be there for her. She was there for me.”

“What, when she moved out of your house without telling you? Yeah, dude, she was really there for you,” Aaron retorted sarcastically.

The words were like a punch to Nick’s gut. Hurt, he narrowed his eyes and let the words slip out before he could stop them. “Yeah, like you were there for me after my surgery?”

All the blood drained from his younger brother’s face as his dark eyes grew wide and stricken. He opened his mouth; it moved wordlessly at first, and no sound came out. Then, as if he’d finally found his voice, Aaron choked, “Nick… I’m sorry! I-I wanted to be there, but Mom wouldn’t let any of us go! Sh-she said you didn’t want us around! Remember??” There was a note of desperation in his voice, and his eyes begged Nick to remember, and to forgive him.

Nick immediately felt bad for saying what he had said. Aaron didn’t deserve it; he’d only been sixteen at the time and still very much under their mother’s control. “I know, AC,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry… forget I said that. It just… came out. You know… diarrhea of the mouth.” He offered his brother a thin smile.

Aaron did not smile back. “No, I’m sorry,” he replied emphatically, his voice cracking. “I should have been there for you, like Claire was, and I wasn’t. No wonder you’re still clinging to her…”

“Hey!” Nick said sharply. “I’ll have you know, your brother does not cling.” He offered Aaron a playful smirk and added, “But… yes, she was there for me before we ever dated; I’ve gotta step up and be there for her after. You understand?”

“I guess, man,” Aaron replied, looking unconvinced, but he didn’t push the issue further. Nick was glad. The last thing he wanted was love advice from his teenaged brother. What did an eighteen-year-old know about love? At eighteen, Nick had been getting slapped around by Mandy. And hadn’t Claire been that age when she was with that lame-ass prick Jamie? Ugh. There was no accounting for a teenager’s taste.

Unless it was in music, that was. Nick spent the rest of the visit up in Aaron’s room, listening to some of the new demo tracks he had cut for his next album. They were actually pretty good. His brother had grown up, and his music had finally matured along with him. He was learning to play the guitar now too. He showed off some guitar riffs he’d been learning and let Nick mess around with the expensive new guitar he’d gotten for his birthday.

When the clock blinked 4:00 and Jane Carter’s arrival home was imminent, Nick rose and pulled Aaron into a rough hug that ended with the still-lanky teen in a headlock. Jamming his fist into Aaron’s head for a quick noogie, Nick said, “I gotta get going, Airhead.”

Aaron squirmed out of his grasp and scurried over to his mirror to fix his hair. When he turned back around, his eyes were downcast. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

“Nah, I gotta jet. But listen, we’ll hang out again soon, okay?”

“You always say that, and it hardly ever happens,” Aaron replied glumly.

“I know… I suck. It’s hard when we’re both busy and I’m living on the opposite coast,” Nick said, knowing that really wasn’t the best excuse. Hopefully this next piece of news would make it better. “But guess what?”

Aaron’s eyes seemed to brighten hopefully. “What?”

“I’m looking into getting myself a place out here again. Already found a realtor, and she’s checking out some options for me.”

“Really?” Now Aaron’s eyes really had lit up. “You’re gonna move back to LA? That’s awesome!”

Nick smiled, glad to see him happy. “Yeah… I figured, why not? There’s not much left for me in Florida now; you’re all here, and the guys have places here. I’m not gonna sell my house in Tampa, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a place to hang my hat when I’m working out here.”

“Hang your hat?” Aaron snorted. “You been hanging around Brian too long, man? That sounds like a Littrell-ism.”

“A Littrell-ism?” Nick laughed. “It’s a real phrase!”

“A real cheesy phrase… that sounds like something Littrell would say.” Aaron flashed him an impish grin. “God, you are getting old. How does it feel to be on the other side of twenty-five? That much closer to thirty, dude… that much closer.” Aaron held his thumb and forefinger close together, clearly enjoying teasing Nick.

“Ha ha,” Nick laughed dryly, narrowing his eyes at his brother as if he were offended. He wasn’t though, not at all. Honestly, being “that much closer to thirty” felt pretty damn good.

He hugged his brother once more before he left, receiving a hug instead of a pout in return this time, and drove back to Howie’s house. Once there, he got on his laptop and booked his seat on a flight to Tampa for the following week.

***