Chapter One / 2006


Abbey

I found out later that the "spill" was actually a well-calculated, perfectly-coordinated pick-up line, something that he had been using on unsuspecting women for years. But it was much, much later that I learned that. Halloween night in 2006, I was as unsuspecting as any of the rest of the girls' he's used the move on.

I was dressed up as a zombie bride. I was working on wiping away my make-up little bits at a time as I sweated it off, the atmosphere in the club Melly had dragged me to was too much for it. I fanned myself with a coaster I'd hijacked from one of the tables as she twittered around the room, trying to find a spot where she had a good view of him amongst the riff-raff of fans and clubbers below. I remember looking up and waving the coaster towards my face and wondering what in the hell it was that made them all go crazy just looking at him. Was it the blue eyes? The perfectly sculpted hair? The newly-forming muscles?

He swirled his drink and stared down at the crowd absently, both seeing us and not seeing us at the same time.

Melly had grabbed my arm, frantic as all hell because she'd received a private message from someone on some forum she frequented about Nick Carter being at a club downtown. We'd been at a Halloween party some friends were throwing when she got the message on her cell phone, at which time she'd promptly hauled me to the club. "Aren't we a little old to be stalking boybanders?" I'd asked her as she circled the block for a parking spot that didn't cost an arm and a leg but was within stiletto heeled walking distance to the club (she was Catwoman).

"You're never too old for Nick-Fucking-Carter," Melly answered, and she'd whipped the car into a space, practically giving us both whiplash. We'd leaped out and rushed down the sidewalk, her heels clicking and my Converse sneakers slapping. We were about halfway to the club when she panted out, "Besides - I - might not - get another - chance to - to see him!" she'd wailed.

Now here we were inside and although she'd actually laid eyes on the guy, we hadn't been able to get within a hundred feet of him because he was upstairs in the VIP lounge, which was heavily guarded by beefcakes the size of linebackers. I floated along behind Melly as she tried spying on Nick Carter from various angles throughout the club. "I swear to God if I could just get up there... I'd squeeze his asscheek," Melly said, straining her neck.

I laughed, "You would not."

"Would so!"

"Why would you squeeze his asscheek?" I asked.

Melly clicked her fingers in front of my face, "Hello? Have you seen his ass? It's fucking gorgeous."

I sipped my drink, "He's skinnier than I remember him." I squinted up at him as he leaned against the rail, laughing at something some guy that was standing next to him was saying. His eyes wandered across the crowd and for the splittest of moments, I felt them linger on me, and our gazes locked.

"He lost weight," Melly said. She was looking down, having nearly stumbled over someone's malfunctioning costume. "He, like, does nothing but snort coke."

I was still staring into Nick Carter's eyes from across the club. The corner of his mouth turned up as he grinned, and his eyes twinkled. I felt my mouth go dry.

"They're supposedly releasing a new CD this Spring," Melly was going on, "I heard this track that leaked and - well, I don't know, it's kind of -- Are you listening to me?" She looked at me, waved her hand in front of my eyes, and I blinked. She glanced over her shoulder, following my gaze, but Nick had turned away seemingly the instant I'd blinked, and he was back-to us already. She looked back at me. "See what I mean? Squeezable cheeks." She made a hand motion like she was grabbing hold of his ass, then grinned. "God, we have got to get up there, I need to touch him just once in my lifetime, then I can die a fulfilled woman."

I rolled my eyes, but I have to admit there was something about Nick's eyes that were intoxicating.

Melly grabbed my hand, "Look. There's the stairway up to the VIP area," she said, pointing. She licked her lips and took a deep breath, "Abbey... listen to me... follow my lead and stay cool."

I was possibly the least cool person in the entire room.

Melly led the way, the lights reflecting off her skin-tight Catwoman leotard, her hips moving like she really was part feline, and a demure smile on her face. She reached the guard standing at the base of the stairs, "Happy Halloween," she purred, and started up the first step of the stairwell. The guard eyed her, and I could feel his instinct was to block her off but something about her kept him from jutting out her arm. "Bridezilla here is with me," she said, nodding to me, and she continued on up the steps calmly, like she belonged in the VIP section, as I scurried after her.

At the top of the stairs, she paused and waited for me to catch up. I got closer to her, "You're fucking insane, you know that?" I asked.

She grinned.

Nick was sitting in a booth to our right with a group of boisterous people that were all drunk looking and tipping over shot glasses as they laughed and waved their arms in arcing motions as they spoke. Nick was leaning back, his leather jacket loose around his shoulders, his eyes a little bloodshot, mouth wide-open with a laugh. Melly walked toward the table, her hips still swaying. Nick wiped his eyes as he wound down from his laugh, and his attention flickered away from the table toward Melly, then away and landed on me. An amused expression played across his cheeks.

Melly had gone by and turned around, a confused look on her face. She'd clearly expected him to notice her sashaying and say something, but he hadn't, so she paused and then walked back toward me, but Nick still didn't seem to take notice for but a moment. She approached me. "Is he looking at my ass?"

I looked over her shoulder. He was looking alright, but not at her ass. "I uh --"

She sighed, "What is he, like, blind? God damn, I'm doing some of my best shaking for him."

Nick winked at me.

"I..."

"Maybe I should walk by again?"

"Uh-huh."

Melly laughed, "You okay? Getting starstruck?"

I shook my head.

"You remember when you and me used to sing I Want it That Way while we rode our bikes to the Baskin Robbins?" she asked, grinning.

"Yeah," I stammered.

Melly smiled. "We should both walk by him," she suggested. I didn't really have any desire to walk by him, but I followed Melly as she turned on her heels and we walked toward the table. "Pretend we're in a conversation," Melly suggested, "And that I'm ridiculously funny or something."

I laughed.

We passed by the table and headed for the bar in the corner. Melly leaned against it. "God I wish it was kosher to turn around, I'd kill to know if he was coming after us or not."

"I'm guessing not," I replied.

But I no sooner got the words out of my mouth than a shower of alcohol went down my spine, dousing me. I let out a shriek and turned around, spraying the amber liquid all over the place as I went. "Who in the fuck can't hold onto their damn glass well enough to keep it from going down my back?" I yelled, and as I turned, my eyes met his and I froze mid-motion.

Melly turned, too, and her eyes widened as they landed on him.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," he said, and he waved for napkins from the bar tender. Melly's jaw dropped as he reached in front of her and grabbed hold of the stack the tender was holding out and he started sopping the liquid off my dress, his hand dangerously close to my ass. "Really I'm sorry," he said, wiping the small of my back with the napkins. "Let me buy your next round to make it up to you." He waved at me, "Whatever she's having, put on my tab."

"I -uh -thanks," I stammered. "I'm not drinking, though."

"Course you are, you can't have a party without a little alcohol." He grinned. "C'mon back to our table, we have an unending bottle of tequila." He waved that direction.

"I'm okay," I replied. "Really. I don't want tequila." My dress was sticking to my skin, whatever drying efforts he'd put into getting the alcohol off it. "All I want right now is to take this off," I said. I looked at Melly. "Will you squeeze his asscheek already so we can go?"

Melly blinked, "Oh God." Her face was the color of cinnamon.

Nick barely even glanced at her, "I can take you home, if that's what you need. I feel awful, I didn't mean to --"

"It's fine," I interrupted him.

"I insist," Nick said. "Let me take you to get fresh clothes at least. I'll buy you clothes."

"I'm fi--"

But Melly stepped on my foot, interrupting me. "Yes," she said, grinning, "She says yes."

Nick smirked.

"Excuse us just a second," I said to Nick, and I grabbed her and pulled her to the side. "Melly, I can't go with him," I hissed under my breath. "Are you insane?"

"Are you?" she demanded. "He's a Backstreet Boy - God knows where you could end up tonight."

"Exactly my point," I whispered, "A gutter -- the bottom of a well -- his basement..."

"His bed."

I don't know how it happened but from that moment went from zero to a hundred miles an hour like lightening. We turned back to him, though, and if he'd heard our conversation he didn't say a word. Instead, he put his palm across the small of my back and led me past his table, leaving Melly behind. "I'll be back guys," he said to the people in his booth, and his friends barely noticed as we walked across the VIP area, down the steps past the guard that had let me and Melly by, and snuck out the door, somehow without any of the other Melly-like fans in the crowd spotting us go.



Nick

"So what're you supposed to be?" she asked as we stepped outside.

"A Backstreet Boy," I replied.

"Clever."

I shrugged.

She was nervous, I could tell that much by looking at her. She was obviously not the kind of girl that went to clubs and got picked up my guys very often. This was going to be a very delicate process, I realized. I pulled my cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one as we walked to my car.

She stared at the cigarette.

"You want one?"

"I hate the smell of cigarettes."

I put the pack back in my pocket and stared at the one I'd been about to smoke. It was going to be a delicate process involving sacrifice, I thought, if I was gonna get what I wanted. And I always got what I wanted. So I tossed the cigarette to the ground and stamped it out with the ball of my foot. She raised an eyebrow and I wondered what her sex-face would be like. "You didn't have to put it out," she said.

"Sure I did," I replied. If I want to know what your sex-face looks like, then I definitely do, I thought.

I showed her to my car. She was impressed I got a parking space so close to the club. "You tend to get stuff like that when you're a pop star," I replied.

"Or when you park illegally and get a ticket," she said, pointing at the yellow paper tucked under my windshield wiper.

"Or that," I conceded, picking it off.

She got in and I started the process of wooing her. "Your make up is smearing off," I said. I reached into the glove box and pulled out small container of Wet Ones and peeled the top towelette out. I reached across and swiped my palm over her cheek, wiping away the layers of zombie make-up that covered her skin. When I'd revealed a bit of her, I smiled, looked her in the eyes and said, "You're even more beautiful under there than I'd imagined."

She turned red. "Oh God."

"It's true," I replied, and I worked at unveiling the rest of her face.

Really, I just didn't want any of that make-up shit in my car.

Or worse, on my bedsheets in the morning.

I drove her to Walmart - the only store still open at midnight on Halloween - and we rushed inside. Without the make-up, she was now just a disheveled looking bride. I tucked my hands into my leather jacket's pockets and followed her through the store. Despite our mismatched appearance, nobody really looked at us. It was Halloween, after all.

"You really don't have to do this," she said as we approached the women's clothing section. "I can just go home and change."

"You can't go home," I said, "I only just met you."

Again with the blushing.

I looked around at the clothing selection. It's Walmart, so it was all shitty cloth sewn together by machines operated by ten year olds in Malaysia for twelve cents a month. She picked up a pair of pants and a t-shirt. I leaned close, "That'll look really good on you," I said.

She laughed nervously.

I bought the clothes and she changed in the ladie's rest room at the front of the store, coming out carrying her bride's gown smashed into the bag. "I'll have to have it dry cleaned," she said, "It's my sister's from her first marriage."

"Can't settle down?"

"Falls in love with military boys," she replied.

Outside, the parking lot lights glowed orange against the black sky and some kids were parked in a circle under one of them far off across the lot, music blasting out of their car stereos, dressed up in crazy costumes and shouting at the top of their voices.

"I love Halloween," I said, watching them - the vampires of Halloween night, the stragglers that kept the party alive long after everyone else had gone to bed and given up on the night.

"Why's that?" she asked. We were leaning against the side of my car, watching the revelers across the lot.

"It's just nice to have one night a year that you aren't fucked in the head for wanting to escape your reality, for wanting to be someone else entirely than what you've always been," I replied.

"Ironic, considering your costume is a Backstreet Boy," she commented.

I smiled. "Well, who knows, this could be the last chance I get to be one, so."

"Are y'all breaking up or something?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I dunno," I said truthfully. "Things are shaky without Kev." I looked up at the bugs swarming around the light overhead. I took a deep breath, "It was a rocky departure, that's all. And it was largely my fault, I guess."

It was entirely my fault, actually. "I went through this once with AJ already, I can't go through it again with you," Kevin's voice echoed in my mind. "Call me when you're sobered up and we'll talk about me coming back."

It would be awhile before I was sober enough to face Kevin.

"You've been together for so long," she said, "You'd think something like that would be unbreakable." She closed her eyes.

"Unbreakable," I scoffed. "Everything is breakable."

She shrugged, "Depends what you call broken."

"Me," I laughed but it wasn't a real laugh, it was the kind of laugh when you say something as a joke but you mean it with all your heart, you just don't want the person to know because you're afraid they'll contradict you and you'll have to argue your reason for believing it's true.

She looked up at me, "I don't think people can be broken. Broken spirits, sure; but I think people crack and chip and age for a purpose and that everything we perceive as being broken about a person is actually just another step in the process of them becoming who they were meant to be." Her breath hung in the air, crystallized in the chilly temperature. I stared down at her. "If you think you're broken right now, Nick, just know that you're not. You're just changing and becoming a different person - the person you were supposed to be. You, though, are unbreakable."

It was strange, how quickly it went from a conquest - a challenge to fuck her - to something I wanted for other reasons. Staring at the way the parking lights reflected off her hair and hearing the strains of music floating across the lot, I pictured myself falling in love and becoming a better person for being with her. I imagined it the way a person imagines themselves using something they're debating on buying in the store - how everything in life could change if they just buy that one thing they hold in their hands...

I leaned down into her face and pressed my mouth against hers.

She'd managed to crush my breath right out of my chest with her words. I felt like a lemon being made into lemonade and I thought about that whole if life gives you lemons phrase and it made sense as her mouth moved against mine.

"I really wanna take you home," I whispered, "To my place."

She stared into my eyes, and something was stirring in there.

"Okay," she whispered.



Abbey

My back hit his bed as he fell on top of me. His mouth and hands were everywhere, every thing I could sense was Nick Carter. His pillow was soft, but not as soft as his mouth on my breast, softly sucking on my skin. Shock waves tingled through my body, like electricity. I clutched the bedsheets as he expertly played me, like an instrument that he had mastered. His hands were just the right size as he slid them down my bare abdomen, lower and lower to the apex of my thigh and just to the left and -- "Oh God," I moaned. He breathed against me, the feeling of his hot breath meeting the cool of his saliva on my skin sent a shiver through my nerve endings and I tensed. I couldn't breathe.

"You've got an amazing body," he whispered.

"You've got amazing skills, oh my God," I moaned back.

He chuckled again and I wiggled beneath him as he dove back into working on me, slowly moving back, slowly kissing lower and lower across my body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. My body was on fire, I was sure of it. He put his hands on my hips and slid them beneath me, slid them to my bottom, and lifted me up to his face, his mouth meeting my body and I let out a whimper of excitement as he pressed his lips against me, as his tongue snaked out into a figure eight pattern on my body. I wrapped my legs around him to steady myself because I felt like I was going to fall apart at the seams.

He licked and kissed me until the world shattered, and then he leaned over me, staring down into my face as my body shivered with euphoria. I stared up at him, silhouetted in the dark, and tried desperately to comprehend where I was. I'm in Nick Carter's bed. The thirteen year old in me was extremely jealous, although a bit furry on the details of what being in his bed would mean. He leaned closer and kissed my face as my body still trembled with sensitivity. Then there he was, pressing against me, pushing into me, arching his hips to maximize the thrust...

Afterward, in the dark, laying there, staring up at the ceiling, the world spinning beyond so fast I could feel it, the sun coming up in the edges of the west-facing window... I said, "You're definitely not broken."

He laughed a laugh like freedom ringing, like he hadn't been able to laugh like that in a very long time.

Maybe he hadn't, I don't know.

"I'm gluing myself back together," he said.

"When did you fall apart?" I asked.

"When was I ever in one piece?" he laughed.

"You're probably the happiest depressed guy I've ever met," I answered. Our fingers touched on the bed and I felt his knuckles, all big and bony in my fingers and I thought of Melly's words the night before, staring up at the balcony, at him standing, looking down at the dance floor. "Do you really snort coke?" I asked.

"I did until the ice cubes started getting stuck up my nose."

"Oldest joke in the book," I laughed.

"And it's still funny," he replied. I looked over at him staring up at the ceiling. The sunlight was starting to stream through the window stronger and brighter and as it did, there seemed to be a glowing rim along the edges of him, outlining him in gold. I laced my fingers through his. "Brian used to tell that joke a lot," he said, "Then one day it stopped being funny because nothing about cocaine was funny anymore."

"So that's a yes, then."

"I'm young, I'm a celebrity, I think it's as mandatory for us to go through a phase of snorting coke as it is for regular people to go through puberty." He shrugged.

"Do you still do it?"

"I'm a week clean," he answered proudly.

"A week?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I was a couple months clean," he said, "But then I was goofing off with some friends and --" he stopped there, letting the words hang between us. "That's why I moved here," he said, "Because I wanted to get clean and stay clean. Seems like every time my friends from LA come around I fall back down."

"Who were you hanging with tonight?" I asked.

He was quiet.

"You should send them back to LA."

"I should," he replied, "But they're my best friends."

"They aren't very good friends if they're getting you high every time you see them, even though you're trying to quit," I commented.

"They're the only friends I've got." His voice was heavy with the meaning of the words.

We lay there in silence and I listened to his breathing. It was so strange, being so close to someone and feeling their fingers wrapped around your own, knowing nothing about them, but knowing too much at the same time. I wanted to believe that maybe this - whatever it was that was between us - would become something more, but I knew that it wouldn't. He was too resigned to a world I couldn't ever understand. I closed my eyes.

He said he'd call me. When he brought me home later that morning, as I got out of the car he asked for my phone and he put his number in and took a goofy contact photo - a selfie on the fly. He promised he'd stay in touch. But he never called me. I thought about calling him a couple times.

I came really close once, a month and a half after our encounter. It was in December, and I was sitting in a public restroom stall taking deep, gasping breaths, my pants around my ankles and my heart in my throat... A pregnancy test I'd just taken mellowed on top of the little metal trash bin that was bolted to the wall. I stared at the picture, at his straight teeth and brilliantly blue eyes staring up at me from the phone, and my hands shook over the call icon on my phone...

Then the test results faded into view and I closed out of his contact listing because there was no way I could tell him that.



Nick

I really wanted to call her. But I think some part of me didn't believe I was good enough for her. So I wrote her phone number down on the inside cover of an old book that Kevin gave me and I told myself that if I was ever good enough to call Kevin up, then I'd give her a call, too, while I was at it.

But like I said before, it'd be awhile before I was good enough for that.

Chapter Two / 2013


Nick

"My name is Zeke the Freak and you're listening to WPPK.... We've got the Backstreet Boys here in the studio today, hot off a tour, just back from cruise, about to head over to Europe and hit the US with a mini-Christmas tour. Twenty years of this guys, how's it feel?"

"Exhausting," Kevin replied, taking the microphone into his hand.

We all laughed.

"Now you took a time out, so it must be even more so for these blokes, right?" Zeke the Freak waved his hands at the rest of us.

I stared at my hands as the guys talked, goofing off with Zeke.

"You're awful quiet over there, Nick. Let's talk. I hear you're engaged these days, huh?" Zeke asked after a few minutes.

I nodded, "Yeah, I am."

"Lauren, her name is? She's like a beauty queen or something?"

"It's actually the WBFF she competes in; it's like a fitness thing," I said, "She's a trainer. She's great. Funny. Great girl. I'm really lucky."

Zeke grinned, "Hey, good for you man, I remember when you were just a punky lil thing in baggy clothes saying you weren't ever gonna get married. Remember that?" He chuckled, "Seems like forever ago. Just about fifteen years. I guess that is forever in this industry." He laughed boisterously. "So when are you two getting hitched?"

"March, probably," I answered, "We're looking at having VH1 do a documentary."

Brian whispered something in Howie's ear and Howie laughed and shook his head, looking down at his sneakers. I felt my face flush. I knew Brian didn't approve of my plans to have VH1 film the wedding, but it's not like he had much room to judge - he'd let someone film his wedding, too.

"Awesome man, congratulations --" and then Zeke jumped off, announcing the Christmas festival date we were going to be doing in December and chatting with the other fellas about all the Backstreet Babies and stuff. I turned back to staring at my hands.

When the interview was over, we all got up and piled out of the studio, thanking Zeke for his time and heading out to the van that would take us all to the airport. Eddie pushed toward me through the crowd of people surrounding the five of us as we walked. "Hey, Nick, hey," he said, falling into stride beside me, "So I have a proposition for you... and you're free to say no, but I think it's a good idea so hear me out."

"I'm listening," I answered.

"Okay, so you know the Miracle Network?" he asked.

"Children's hospitals, right?" I said, "We did something for them in... what was that, 2006?"

Eddie looked fairly impressed. "Yeah. Good. Okay. So they contacted Ground(Ctrl) today, and they have this thing they're doing, partnering up with Make-a-Wish, they're doing a Christmas of Miracles program, they've got like twenty-five kids they wanna do stuff for, one kid for each day in December leading up to Christmas... TV special, blah-blah-blah, you know the song and dance... They're hoping you'd be interested in granting one of the miracle wish thingies. One of the kids wrote in and wants to meet you."

I shrugged, "You know my schedule better than I do, Eddie," I said. We ducked through the door of the radio station and I stood behind the other guys as they climbed into the van that was gonna bring us to the airport. "I mean I'm fine with whatever, just pencil it in... and keep and mind Lauren and I want at least a little time for just us..."

"Well he's in Nashville, I thought you might be able to tuck in a visit there before Christmas," he made a little tucking motion with his hand.

"Yeah whatever just set it up," I said. I climbed into the van and pulled the door shut behind me. Eddie waved from the outside of the van. I looked around at the other guys. AJ was unpacking his Beats and Howie was texting Leigh. Brian was on the phone and Kevin was unfolding his glasses from his pocket, squinting at his iPad. I sighed because I'd been stupid and packed my laptop in my carry on, which was with Lauren, probably on it's way to the airport now. Luckily, I'd thought to shove a book into my backpack. I pulled it out and furled the cover back and started reading.



Abbey

I balanced my coffee cup on the stack of books I was carrying and used my elbow to catch the handle of the door, kicking it open and squeezing my way into the lobby. The secretary, a rotund woman named Giada smiled and waved as I walked by. "Morning, Abbey!" she sing-songed.

"Morning Giada," I called back, "Chilly outside!"

"Aye!" she agreed, "I wore a sweater to work today!" She waved her arm over her head, tugging on the sleeve of her sweater.

I walked on through the hallway to the elevator and rode it up to the fifth floor alongside an elderly man on the way up to the sixth floor with his physical therapist, who'd just walked him around in the parking lot. "How's the expeditions going, Phil?" I asked him, smiling, "Your new hip treating you good?"

"Better'n my old one," Phil chuckled, "Much like my second wife."

I laughed and exited the elevator car as it dinged and the doors opened up. "Keep an eye on ol' Speedy Gonzalez there," I told Oscar, Phil's PT. Oscar laughed and waved as the door closed behind me and I walked down the hallway with my books.

At the nurse's station, I called out greetings to Jessie and Andrea, the two LNAs on duty, who were dutifully entering data into the computers, and nodded a greeting to Monica, the doctor who was in the middle of rounds across the ward, before ducking into my destination. The room was quiet, the TV on but turned down, the lights low, curtain pulled halfway to maintain privacy. I stepped around it, putting the books on the table. Over my shoulder, I could hear Phineas and Ferb chattering away.

"I brought you your books," I said, and I tossed my purse onto the chair, leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Matty's eyes were closed, but they flickered opened. He looked at the stack of books and smiled, "You don't think we're going to be here very long this time," he said quietly.

I shook my head, "Of course not."

"Good," he mumbled and he closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

I pushed the table to the foot of his bed and reached for my purse, extracting his bookends, shaped like owls, and set the books up in alphabetical order, the way he liked them. He watched me through his eyelashes.

"Did you have a good night?" I asked him, glancing back and forth between him and the books as I straightened them. "Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"Nothing exciting ever happens here," he said. "Mostly just Andrea and Monica came in and poked me with needles and I slept," he replied.

Satisfied the books were neat, I sat down in the chair beside his bed, putting my purse down on the floor, and lifted my coffee to my mouth.

"Anything exciting happen to you while you were gone?" Matty asked.

I shook my head. "Made waffles. Served coffee. Same old, same old." I worked at a Waffle House downtown, we served a lot of truckers on their overnight routes. Of course interesting things happened. Nothing I was going to tell a six year old about, though. I forced a smile.

Matty nodded.

"Did you start looking through the catalog yet?" I asked. I'd left a Toys R Us catalog on Matty's table the night before and told him to circle all the things he liked and to use a 5-star rating system on them for how much he wanted things he circled.

"I started to," he answered halfheartedly.

"Well you need to work on that," I said, "Christmas is gonna be here before you know it, the last thing you want is Santa Claus to have no idea what to bring you."

"Mom, please," Matty said, his voice lisping ever so slightly in a way that reminded me of when he was much younger and his lower two front teeth were both out at the same time. "I know Santa's not real, it's okay."

I forced another smile. "Well, you the last thing you want is me not knowing what to bring you."

"There's just not a lot of toys that I want," he said.

I took a deep breath, "I know, sweetie, I know you just want to get better, but that's not a present that I can give you." I felt tears spring into my eyes. "We're just going to pray that this time you get to be home for Christmas and we'll have a tree and a turkey and there'll be lots of Christmas music to play and movies to watch. We can watch the whole 24-hours of Ralphie on TV, if you like."

Matty nodded.

I reached out and put my hand on his hand. "It's gonna be okay, buddy..."

He sighed.

I was about to ask him if something else was bothering him when Monica came in, followed by Andrea pushing the vitals cart. "Well good morning, Mommy, how was your night?" Monica asked, smiling as she went over to Matty's side and took his arm as Andrea handed her the blood pressure cuffs.

"Busy as usual," I answered.

"Do you ever sleep?" Andrea asked with a chuckle.

"I take a nap in the afternoon," I replied.

"Usually during the two-hours of back-to-back Myth Busters," Matty added.

"It should be a crime to miss Myth Busters," Monica said, smirking.

"It was a repeat today," Matty went on, "They were testing what the best tool to be armed with against an angry horde of zombies."

Monica chuckled. "That sounds pretty intense."

"Yeah," he said, "They confirmed that an axe is, like, way more effective than a gun in the zombie apocalypse because Adam and Jamie tested them both and the gun only killed seven zombies and the axe killed fourteen so the axe is, like, twice as effective --"

He babbled on while Monica and Andrea continued their routine check-ups, listening to his heart beat and breathing, and getting his pulse, blood pressure, and various other vitals. When they'd finished, Andrea took the sheet and the cart and pushed it back out to the nurse's station while Monica hung her stethoscope over her neck and listened as Matty continued on about the other experiments conducted on the Myth Busters. Finally, when he paused to take a breath, Monica announced, "So I have some good news for you."

"Yeah?"

"The Children's Miracle Network and Make-a-Wish Foundation are doing a joint project for the holiday season - the Christmas of Miracles, they're calling it. They're filming 25 children being granted wishes that they've submitted to air during the Christmas season, and, Matty, they selected the wish you submitted." Monica grinned.

Matty's eyes were wide.

"The wish you submitted?" I looked at him in surprise, "You submitted a wish?"

"Whoa," he whispered, "No way. Really?"

"Really." Monica smiled at Matty.

I looked at Monica, "But the point of the wishes is that kids that are terminally ill get to have a wish, Matty's not that bad."

Monica took a deep breath, "We need to talk, Abbey." She looked at Matty with a smile, then back to me. "Why don't you come with me to my office?" she suggested. "We'll be right back, little man," she added, ruffling his hair. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a pumpkin-shaped lollipop and held it out to him with a wink.

"Thanks," he said, but I could see the nervousness in his eyes, despite her attempt to keep things sounding lighthearted.

I kissed his forehead again, "We'll be right back," I agreed, and I followed the doctor out of the room.

Chapter Three / 2013


Abbey

Seven years ago, to the day, Nick Carter dropped me off on the curb in front of my apartment and I watched him drive away, not knowing that he wouldn't call me, and not knowing that stirring inside of me was the beginning of the first manifestations of Matty. For six years, ever since he'd been born during a thunderstorm in July of 2007, I'd listened to doctors tell me that Matty would not live to see his next birthday. Monica Potter would not be the first pediatrician who had vocalized this so-called truth to me. I knew the symptoms of the moment all too well - a nervously-casual doctor, the visit to the office, the closing of the door, the stack of papers sheathed in a folder with Matty's name written on it. I sat down in the chair opposite Monica's desk and looked around, trying not to panic.

Monica sat and she leaned back in her chair, staring at me for a long moment over the array of wind-up toys and Pez dispensers that littered her desk for kids to play with during visits to the office. I kneaded the hem of my skirt between my finger tips. "How are you doing, Abbey?" she asked.

"I'm --" I had been about to say good or fine or maybe even great, but I could taste the lie without even speaking the word and I stopped. I looked down at my hands. I wasn't any of those things. FInally I said, "Tired."

Monica nodded. "I'd imagine exhausted is more the word for it."

I couldn't even remember the last time I'd slept.

"You know why I asked you to come in here," Monica said. Her voice shook just a little. And I realized when it did that she was the first doctor that Matty had seen in the past six years that I completely trusted - the first one that I knew beyond a doubt in my heart that if she had me in this office, if we were having this chat, that she had truly done everything to keep us from being here. I felt my throat close up. "Abbey, I'm not saying that it's definite, but -- the medication isn't working anymore and his heart is -- It's getting worse. He's getting worse. You know it, you can see it. I can see it in your eyes you see it." Monica paused. "I just want you to be prepared. Just in case."

I gripped the arm of the chair and shifted my weight from one side to the other, covering my mouth with my fingers. I stared at Monica. I felt sick to my stomach. Monica leaned forward and picked up the folder on the desk and held it out to me. "You know what this is."

I nodded. It was information. It was funeral home phone numbers and catalogs for tiny caskets and phone numbers for people who could help arrange things I didn't want to think about like deli platters and orchids. I stared at the folder for a long moment before taking it. It wasn't the first of these folders I'd been given. But my hands shook as I pulled it toward me.

"How long?" I choked the words out.

Monica stared down at the desk for a moment, trying to compose herself, then she looked up at me, blurry eyed and the muscles by her lip quivering. "Realistically... it's not... not very long. Unless we get a donor, it's -- it's not long at all."

"How long?" I repeated.

"I'm trying my damnedest to get you through the holidays," she said thickly.

I felt like ice water had been poured down my spine and I shivered. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the words, but I heard them echoing in my head over and over again. My breath shook. "Oh God," I whispered. "My baby."

Monica stood up and came around the desk and knelt down in front of me, taking my hands. She squeezed my fingers between hers. "I'm so, so sorry, Abbey. You know I am doing everything that I can, everything in my power to make this better. Matty is such a great kid and he deserves the world. I'm trying so hard to save him, but sometimes -- sometimes we need to prepare for the worst and pray for the best." She stared up at me. "You understand, Abbey? You prepare, but don't stop believing in this - in him."

I felt dizzy with emotion.

"I told him about the Christmas of Miracles program and we worked on an essay together during the nights you worked." Monica smiled, "He had so much hope in his eyes for his wish to come true... I'm just so happy that they picked him."

"What did he wish for?" I asked.

Monica smiled, "I can't tell you that."

"Why?"

"Because it's partly a surprise for you, too, and I swore to him I wouldn't tell you what it was." She smiled. "Like I said, Abbey, he's a great kid."

I nodded. "I know he is."

"Just be thankful for every moment you have," Monica said, and she squeezed my hand again. "I'm not going to let him down without giving this one hell of a fight, you know that."

I did.



Nick

We were shuffling through the airport in Amsterdam. I pulled the strings on my sweatshirt's hood so the cloth pulled tight around my face, covering my eyes. I felt like I was asleep standing up. I followed after the guys, relaying more on my ability to sense where they were than I was watching where I was going. Suddenly, I felt Kevin's hands on my shoulders and I opened my eyes to see I'd been about to walk into a column. "You okay, there?" Kevin chuckled.

"Yeah, just tired," I replied.

"Tell me about it," Kevin answered, and he cracked his back, "Gonna be needing some Aleve after sitting all that time on that damn plane. It's a killer gettin' old, ain't it?"

I forced a weak smile, though I really felt like smacking him. Ever since coming back to the band, Kevin had been on this weird old man kick, insisting we were all old an that we had all seen better days, that the dance moves were killing us and that we were all creaky boned now. I'd bit my tongue more than once over the past year from telling him off for including me in this old man business. I was far from old, I could jig circles around his geriatric ass. It was getting on my nerves because, let's face it, even Kevin isn't all that old and him thinking he was old was making him old and it was stupid.

Honestly, a lot of quirks about the fellas had been getting on my nerves since the start of the tour. Stupid things that probably shouldn't have been bothering me were driving me crazy.

Kevin walked by, smiling, and hurried to catch up to Howie toward the front of the pack of us. I sighed and hung back and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and turned it on. I had three text messages from Lauren. One was a heart and a song lyric from thing song we both said we liked the week before that's been all over the radio, another was just the words miss you already, and the third one read, call me when you land! I sighed and shoved the phone back in my pocket. I didn't feel like talking to her.

I was gonna be the worst damn husband in the entire world, I just knew it. I was already turning out to be a terrible fiance.

I nudged AJ and held out my phone to show him the three text messages. "Is Rochelle this clingy?" I asked.

AJ looked at the texts, then up at me and laughed, "You call that clingy?"

"She did just see me at the airport," I pointed out. "I mean, she dropped me off and stuff."

"Dude, relax." AJ held out his phone. He had thirteen messages from Rochelle.

"Shit," I muttered, suddenly feeling slightly less smothered.

AJ grinned. "My Pookie-Bear."

I rolled my eyes.

It was a short ride from the airport to the hotel. When we arrived, we headed upstairs and it was in the elevator ride to our floor that Kevin said, "Oh man, I can't wait for a nap." He stretched his arms out, "Oh God that feels good," he muttered.

I pictured him curling up under the covers with a cup of warm milk.

When the elevator doors split open, we all headed for our respective rooms and closed the doors behind us in almost synchronization. I walked into my room and dropped my bags on the floor and threw myself onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It felt nice to be still for a few moments, and I closed my eyes. It wasn't technically a nap. It was just taking a break. Which is totally not an old guy thing to do, I told myself.

But I couldn't sleep.

The moment my eyes closed, a haunting mental image of Lauren in a wedding dress grinning up at me, waiting for my I do shimmered in my mind. My palms were sweaty and I woke up with a shout, breaking out of the pressure of the dream. I lay there in the dark of the hotel room, my heart racing, and realized that I was never gonna get any sleep as long as I kept having these damn nightmares about the wedding.

I sat up and crawled over to my bags, pulling out my book. Maybe I'd read myself to sleep, I thought, and I bent back the cover. My eyes caught sight of the ten digit number scrawled across the inside front cover. I stared at the numbers, my fingers moving over them slowly, thinking about all that they represented.

For years, I'd read and re-read this book - The Power of Positive Thinking - and I'd thought of two things to get me through the rough times of getting over my addictions: one, I had to get well enough to face Kevin, and two, I wanted to call this number scrawled across the inside of this book. It'd been so long since I wrote it, and I'd been so high when I had, that I only just barely remembered the woman to whom it belonged.

But I remembered this: she was amazing. Too amazing for the me that I was then.

By the time I'd been well enough to call Kevin, I'd been with Lauren too long to give that up on a whim to call some number that belonged to some chick who had been kinda hot in my deluded, strung-out state. So I'd never called.

But I'd always wondered.

I sat up and pulled my phone out of my pocket and tapped the numbers into the keypad and stared at them for a long moment. My thumb hovered over send and I'd been just about to push it when the phone lit up with another text from Lauren.

I set the DVR to tape the Buccs for you while you're gone. xoxo

I called Lauren instead of the number -- the girl, whoever she was or however amazing she had or had not been -- probably didn't even have the same cell phone number after all these years, I told myself. And I was happy. Really. Truly. Why woul I want to risk the love that I had for something that probably didn't even really exist?

Chapter Four / 2013


Nick

Leighanne does this thing with her tongue when she's criticizing Brian for something that annoys the crap out of me. It's this sound like a trainer trying to tame a horse or something, like this clucking-clicking sound. And she's always criticizing Brian - it's like her number one hobby - so she's always making this fucking sound.

We were standing backstage at one of the many appearances we had to do during our flash trip to Europe and she was fixing Brian's tie for the nine-hundredth time. Every time she fixed it, he tugged it out of alignment because she was tightening it right against his throat and making it impossible for him to breath. Seriously, he had been almost the same color as a smurf before he adjusted it. I had a feeling his balls were getting severed the same way. He looked longingly at me as I loosened my tie and untucked my shirt behind her back -- just because I could.

AJ tossed a handful of chocolate covered cranberries into his mouth, "You look like crap," he said.

Howie nodded, "Has that shirt ever met an iron?"

"It never will," I answered.

AJ was staring down at his phone. "Rochelle just texted me the cutest picture of Ava," he announced, waving his phone around for everyone to see. Ava was, as always, staring at the camera with big round eyes. I mean, what the hell else do babies ever do in pictures? And yet people are supposed to react all surprised with oohs and aahs over every damn picture of a baby or else they're coldhearted or something.

"Adorable," I replied, barely looking. AJ was too caught up in the picture to notice I'd hardly looked.

"Have you guys really thought about how incredible technology is now-a-days?" Kevin toned from behind his Nook tablet. I assume he was reading the news paper on it because he was staring down his reading glasses like he was Mr. Rodgers reading the daily or something. "You just got a picture of your kid that's half a planet away, mere seconds after it was taken." He shook his head, "If we'd had this type stuff when I was a kid..." he turned back to his Nook.

I took a deep breath.

Brian made a choking sound as Leighanne clucked.

"I'm gonna go for a walk," I announced. "Just down the hall. I need a drink." I grabbed my wallet and headed out the door of the green room before the guys could stop me.

I didn't go just down the hall though, I ended up outside by the vans. Mike, my bodyguard, hovered at the door, and our breath hung in the air in little clouds. "Can I bum a smoke?" I asked him, and he pulled a pack out of his jacket pocket and handed one to me. After I lit up, I paced around in the lot around the vans, frustrated. I couldn't put my finger on what exactly, but something was really upsetting me. Like really, truly. I just felt stressed and sad all the time, and everything was bothering me. I was like... like... like a woman. It was ridiculous. I ran a hand through my hair and let out a great big sigh that looked like a storm cloud formation.

It bothered me a lot that the fellas were driving me so crazy. The dynamic in our group used to be so different - the guys drove me crazy before, but more the way brothers should drive a person crazy. This was more like an ex-wife kind of crazy now. It was like in the process of maturin and becoming grown-ups we'd somehow lost our connection and that scared the shit out of me because the fellas were my family. The other four of them had great parents and siblings and homes to go home to and me -- well, I didn't. They were it for me.

The thought no sooner had crossed my mind than I felt a rush of guilt because I had Lauren, and I never seemed to remember that when I analyzed stuff in my life.

Lauren was back home working on putting together this brand new house we just bought and she was sending me all these pictures of the decorating she was working so hard on. She was nesting, making it a collaboration of our two styles, the mixture of clean, precise industrial design and the cozy hippie-chic style that she enjoyed as she worded it. It was a mish-mosh but it would become home. Lauren was gonna be my family. She was gonna be everything that I was always jealous of the guys for having.

Why couldn't I ever remember that instinctively?

I took a deep breath, the last of the cigarette in my fingertips and I sat down in this stupid folding chair of AJ's and threw the cigarette on the ground and mooshed it with my foot. I threw my head back, staring up at the cloudy, starry night and breathed in cold night air, trying to clear my head.

The fellas couldn't seriously be being this annoying, obviously something else was bugging me, but I didn't know what. Maybe it was just nerves from the wedding, from the commitment that I was making soon that I couldn't even seem to remember.

My phone vibed in my pocket and I pulled it out as Mike came around the end of the vans to make sure I was still alive and hadn't been hijacked by some crazy ass fan. He hovered at the end of the van. It was Eddie on the phone, so I answered it. "Hey?"

"Hey Nick, I just wanted to let you know - I emailed you a copy of the Christmas Miracle kid's wish essay and some more information about your visit. I'm really glad you agreed to do this - it's great publicity, man."

"Thanks, yeah it is," I answered.

"You okay?" Eddie asked, "You sound stressed."

"Just... you know... yeah, I am a little." I shrugged.

Eddie had a smile in his voice, "You'll be okay, man."

"Yeah, I'll be okay," I agreed.

"Have a good promo run, hey?"

"We always do."

Eddie hung up and I slid my phone back in my pocket. I stood up and walked over to Mike. "A'ight, let's just go back in, it's fuckin' cold out here, my balls are gonna freeze off."

Mike laughed and followed me back into the TV studio's green room, where Leighanne was still clucking and AJ was on a call with Rochelle ("no you hang up, no you..."), and Howie and Kevin were discussing the symptoms of being vitamin deficient. I sat down and stared around at them, and took a deep breath. I flipped up the screen of my laptop and opened my email account to check out the stuff Eddie had sent me about the Christmas Miracle kid.




My name is Matthew Steele and I am six and a half
years old. I am a patient at Vanderbilt hospital with
Dr. Monica Potter because my heart is broke and it
does not work right all the time. My Christmas Miracle
Wish would be to meet Mr. Nick Carter from the
Backstreet Boys because he is a really good singer and
it would make me and my Mom smile if we could
meet him. I know all of the BSB songs by heart, and
also Nick's solo songs too. My mom always tells me
that Mr. Nick is a good role model because even though
he has made some mistakes he still believes in pursuing
dreams that he has and in making yourself a better
person. She says that Nick is a normal guy. I think that is
cool. I really hope I get to meet Mr. Nick, even if it is only
for a few minutes because it would be good to get to be
happy with my Mom. She deserves a wish, too.
Sincerely, Matty.



Abbey

"So what'd she say?" Matty perked up the moment that I walked through the door.

I'd spent several long moments composing myself and then trying to get my face washed so it wouldn't be obvious I'd been crying when I returned to the hospital room. Matty stared at me with his big blue eyes that were so much like his father's... Tears burned in my throat and the tears threatened to come again. "She just was telling me more about the Christmas Miracle program," I said, "And how hard you worked on writing out your wish."

Matty looked suspicious. "She didn't tell you what it was, though. Right?"

"She said it was Top Secret," I replied.

"Oh good," he said, nodding, "Good."

I sat down next to his bed and held out my hand, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it gently. It was so small between my palms, and so soft. My throat burned. How many scary situations had I held this little hand through? So many. Thunderstorms, needles, even minor operations. I'd taught those little fingers about writing and rolling Play-Doh snakes. I'd held them crossing streets and watched them hold onto the chains of swings while I pushed him high into the air. I rubbed the skin softly with my thumb.

He stared at our hands, then looked up at me. "I love you, Mommy," he said suddenly.

Sometimes, I realized, those little hands were really holding mine in the scary situations.

"I love you, too," I replied, and I kissed his little pudgey fingers.

"Let's look at the toy catalog," he suggested. And he pulled his hands away from mine and opened the drawer he'd put the catalog in, and grabbed a magic marker while he was in there. It was strange how empty my hands felt without his in it, and I thought about how strange it would be to one day not have that little hand to hold.

I shoved the thought out of my mind.

He flipped open the Toys R Us catalog and eagerly started pointing out toys on the pages, circling them and putting stars on them. Never more than 4-out-of-5, though, I noticed. "There must be something you want 5-stars," I said when we were about halfway through the catalog. I looked up at him and pushed some of his bushy blonde hair off his forehead so his brilliantly blue eyes could sparkle in the light.

Matty shrugged, "I'm saving my 5-star rating for something I really want, so you know that's what I want the very most," he answered.

"Got'cha," I said.

He pointed at a Pikachu 3DS. "This is probably, like, 4-and-a-half stars," he said, grinning.

I smiled and added "1/2" next to the four stars we'd drawn.

"What do you want for Christmas?" he asked suddenly.

"I already have you," I replied.

He laughed as I kissed his cheek. "Oh gross, Mom." He swiped away my kiss with the back of his hand, like any regular little boy. I laughed, my eyes lingering on his chest, where the top of a scar just barely peeked out from beneath his Iron Man pajamas. If only he really was like every little boy, I thought, then me having what I wanted for Christmas would be so much more certain.

Chapter Five / 2013...and a little 2007


Abbey - 2013

That night, I called out at work and went home for the first time in a week. Well, I went home after a quick stop at a liquor store on the way. I popped the cork and sat down on the couch, drinking the Merlot straight out of the bottle, holding it by the neck. My lap top and the folder Monica had given me balanced on the cushion beside me, but I ignored it until I'd gotten about a third of the way through the bottle. Then I turned to the laptop, opened up Google.com and typed in two words that I never dreamed I ever would.

Children's coffins.

I waited as the page loaded - we have the slowest wifi in the world, something Matty always tells me we could fix by getting a better router - and then the screen popped up. I'd kind of expected no results or something. Maybe I'd hoped there wouldn't be. Instead, I got over 600,000 results. My mouth went dry.

I moved my cursor to the first link and clicked on it, taking a swig of the wine as it loaded.

A page of coffins for children loaded up. They were just itty bitty boxes - they looked like shoe boxes for fuck's sake - with pictures of happy things like balloons and duckies painted onto their sides. I bit my lips and hugged the wine bottle to my chest, suddenly cold, despite wearing sweatpants and thick wool socks.

I slammed the computer screen down and kicked the lap top away, my throat restricted.

"Oh fuck," I choked into my fist. There was not enough wine in the god-damned world to soften this blow. I had to get out. I didn't care where - somewhere, anywhere. I got up and grabbed my jacket and, without even getting dressed or doing my hair at all, I rushed out to the car.

I drove downtown where the lights were bright and the music spilled out of the bars, enticing passers-by to stop in and get warm. The side streets were lit up with string lights and little food carts sold nuts and hot chocolate, like a story book or something. I parked in the lot by the library and walked down Broadway in my stupid sweatpants and red peacoat, a little furry around the edges from the wine. In all honesty, I probably shouldn't have even been driving, but the cold night air was sobering me up, drying tears that I'd shed all the way here. I walked along, breathing in and out, listening to the sound of laughter and music that drifted out onto the sidewalk.

I couldn't imagine ordering one of those little coffins with the balloons or the duckies for Matty. It made me sick to my stomach that such a thing even existed, not to mention was needed or was needed by my son.

I stopped and sat down on a bench and stared at the ground for a long moment. People were still flowing around me. The strains of Sweet Home Alabama was flowing out of one club on one side of me and house beats on the other. I looked up and realized I was sitting in front of the club where I'd gone with Melly seven years ago and met Nick Carter. I stared up at the glowing neon sign, my tears flowing down my cheeks, and my breath shook coming out.

I'd tried calling him, Nick I mean, once...


2007

When Matty was first diagnosed with congenital heart disease. I'd never heard such a scary set of words before - Ventricular Septal Defect, it just sounds terrible. He was just a teeny tiny baby and I'd brought him home to the apartment that Melly and I had been sharing at the time and during the night he'd cried and I'd gone in and held him... and he'd turned blue. We rushed him to the hospital and the doctor had told me he had cyanosis, which is a fancy word meaning he literally turned blue, and that cyanosis is caused by a lack of oxygen in the blood. It took months of hospital time for the doctor to discover that it was VSD, meaning he had a teeny hole in the walls separating the parts of his heart, causing his blood to cycle and re-cycle through his heart, backing up the blood, causing congestion of blood on the right side and blood without enough oxygen to travel through his body on the left.

He'd given me a video to watch about the disease and I'd brought it home and Melly and I had sat in the living room only to discover that Brian Littrell was featured on the tape. VSD, it turned out, was the same thing that Brian had been diagnosed with as a child, a defect in him that had resulted in him going through years of surgery and eventually a surgery as an adult. Melly had looked over at me, wide-eyed. "It's a sign," she'd said, standing up regally and going to fetch my cell phone from the charger. She threw it at me. "It's a sign that you're supposed to call him."

"It's not a sign," I'd argued.

"It is!" Melly cried out, "What are the odds that Brian Littrell has the exact same condition as Matthew?" she demanded. "He can help you find the good doctors to get Matthew fixed and stuff! Nick can hook you up!"

"What am I supposed to say? Hey Nick, it's Abbey, the chick you probably don't remember banging nine months ago, but can you suggest a good doctor that specializes in heart defects?"

"Why not?"

"Melly, I can't call him."

Melly waved her arms insistently at the paused frame of Brian Littrell on our TV screen. He'd been in the middle of the word ventricular when we'd paused it and he was making the face that a large rodent might make, stuck in the middle of saying the ven part. "It's. A. Sign."

"I can't," I said, "That'd be way, way too awkward and --" Melly looked down at my phone and opened my contacts list. "Melly, what the hell are you doing?" I demanded. I jumped up off the couch. "Give me that. Melly!" She swayed away, jumping up onto the couch, holding the phone over her head as she scrolled to his name. "Don't you dare!" I jumped up beside her.

She pressed the call button and put it on speaker phone.

"MELLY!" I was screaming now, frantically waving my arms at the phone.

Then a tone. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try dialing your number again. Good bye.

We both stopped jumping. Melly's arm lowered. I grabbed the phone from her hand. The goofy contact photo was on the screen. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try dialing your number again. Good bye. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up...

I grabbed the phone from her palm and clicked the end button.

We stood there in silence on the couch, the phone laying on my splayed palm between us. Melly stared at me, her jaw dropped. "Of course he's changed his number by now," I stammered, "I mean, obviously, he's famous, they don't keep their numbers like normal people do." I shrugged, "I'm not surprised or anything, I mean, obviously it's not like I expected it to work. I --"

"Abbey," she said quietly.

I got down off the couch, shrugging, "It's fine. I'm fine. It's fine."

"What an asshole," Melly said in a consoling tone, "I can't believe we ever liked him. He's nothing but an asshole. Abandoning you like this..."

"Melly, he doesn't even know. He thinks he had a one night stand with some crazy ass groupie," I laughed, "He's probably had a million of them just like this one. It's not -- it's not his fault. He's just -- It's me. It's my fault. I should've called him. Before." I shook my head. "It's not him."

Melly sat down on the couch, staring up at me. "Now what?"

Suddenly Matthew's cries came through the baby monitor on the end table. I picked up the monitor. "Now I take care of my son," I replied, and I ducked out of the living room, dizzy with emotion, but not wanting her to see me cry.




Nick

On the last stop of the European promo tour, the fellas were all acting really weird in the hotel during check in, something I chalked up to jetlag. I slid my keycard into the door and pushed it open to find Lauren laying on the bed. I blinked in surprise and looked down the hall as the guys scattered into their own rooms, knowing smirks on their faces. Even Leighanne's as she clucked at Brian. I stepped in and closed the door behind me, "Lolo," I said, "What're you doing here?"

She grinned up at me from her sexy position across the sheets and patted the mattress beside her. I kicked my shoes off and dropped my bag and hurried over, crawling on next to her. "I wanted to surprise you," she said, a grin in her voice. "AJ told Rochelle you were feeling down and Rochelle told me and -- well, here I am." She leaned over and kissed my chin.

"You mean can't-keep-a-secret McLean was in on this? How did I not find out? I just spent seven hours on a plane next to him," I laughed in surprise.

"Rochelle threatened him with no sex if he told," Lauren chuckled. Our lips met and she ran her fingers through my hair, her diamond glittering in the light as she moved. I laid back and she rolled to lean over me, staring down into my face, her eyes twinkling. "You're even more sexy than I remember you being when I dropped you off at the airport."

"It's because I've peeked uppa beet of ahnn ahhk-sent," I said in the worst Britsh-slash-French-slash-Italian-slash-possibly-some-Chinese accent in the world. "Eet eez turn you on, no?"

"Shut the hell up and just stay pretty," she laughed and kissed me deeply, our bodies pressing together. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer. "Mmm, well," she mumbled as our pelvises touched, "Maybe your ahhhk-sent, eet 'az turned you on, yes?" she breathed in a husky voice.

"I don't think it's the accent," I murmured.

Lauren's hands ran down the length of my body, cupping my buldging crotch in her palm, "Well something certainly has, Mister Carter," she cooed. I closed my eyes as she kissed down to my throat, unbuttoning my shirt. "I've missed this neck," she mumbled into my skin, "And this collar bone, ohhhh yeah... and this chest..." She ran her fingers down my freshly bared skin, her nails scraping me just enough to be a good kind of scratching. She ran her fingers over my nipples and kissed them and down my stomach to my belly button and started undoing my pants. "Deez ahhck-sent of yours," she murmured, mouth against my jean-covered thigh as she shimmied my pants down my legs, "Eet eez... conta-gee-o-so." She softly licked my skin as she revealed it, and I sprung free of my jeans. She stared up at me, a playful grin dancing across her face. "Oh Nickolas," she muttered. "I think it is the accent."

I gasped. "No it's definitely... not the accent," I groaned and closed my eyes.

When she'd finished with me, she crawled back up beside me. I was breathing heavy and holding onto the pillow, my lip aching from biting it. She laid down, her cheek pressed against my chest and stared up at my face as I regained composure, a playful grin on her face as she ran circles across my chest with her fingernail. "Did I cheer you up?" she asked.

I nodded, still trying to remember how to breathe steadily.

"What's upsetting you, love?" she asked.

I wrapped my arm around her, putting my hand on her finely tuned shoulder. She snuggled against me even closer, closing her eyes. I rested my cheek against her hair. "I really don't know," I replied. "It's just been really weird lately, I guess. There's so much changing, you know?"

"Life is all about changes," she answered.

"I know."

Lauren was quiet a long moment. "Maybe instead of going home when you're done with the little radio tour, we go to some island together, and we'll spend the Christmas there in the sunshine and the ocean and have sex on the beach like every single day."

I laughed, "Oh you wanna go to that kinda place."

"Only if they have whips and chains on the bed." She made a half-pur, half-growl sound in her throat and laughed. "Baby. You know what I mean."

I smiled, "It sounds great."

She kissed my chest softly.

"Hey Laur?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

I felt her cheeks move as she smiled. "Hey Nick? I love you, too."

I closed my eyes. This was good, this was how it was supposed to be to be in a committed relationship. Me and Lauren, falling asleep in each other's arms. This was how I wanted the rest of my life to feel - comfortable, balanced. I pictured waking up every single morning of every single day for the rest of my life in Lauren's arms.

My eyes sprang open and I blinked up at the ceiling as Lauren's breath fell into a regular pattern as she fell asleep in my arms.

For the rest of my life.

That was a really fucking long time.

Chapter Six / 2013


Nick

By before Christmas, Eddie had meant before Thanksgiving. After all, each of the segments had to be filmed before December 1st for film editing and all that for the episodes of the Christmas Miracles to be aired on TV throughout the month of December. Because mine with this Matthew Steele kid happened to be one of the first ten episodes, it had to be done as soon as I got back to the United States. Consequently, Lauren and I found ourselves at the airport being picked up by a Vanderbilt representative at the Nashville airport upon landing.

"My name is James," he said, taking my hand. He was dressed in casual college attire and looked like he was probably twelve. "I'm a student at Vandy, studying under Monica Potter. She asked me to come pick you up and tell you about Matthew Steele's condition on the way over to the Children's Hospital," he explained.

I looked at Lauren.

She smiled, "It's cool. I'll see you when you get home, honey." She winked, pecked my cheek, and took the bag I had hanging on my shoulder containing Nacho, who let out a groan as his weight shifted from my side to hers. "I'll have... dinner ready for you."

Having dinner ready was code for she'd be waiting in sexy lingerie on the bed for me.

I watched her walk away, only vaguely aware that Doogie Howser was still talking. "Huh? What?" I turned to look at him.

"I asked if you've ever heard of Ventricular Septal Defects before," James said. He waved me to follow him and we walked through the airport toward the parking area. I realized once we were moving that there was a full on camera crew following us along, filming what was going on between us.

"Uhh... yeah I think," I replied. The words sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd heard them before.

"It's a congenital heart defect," James said, "Basically it means there's a hole in the wall that divides the two ventricles of the heart - those are the chambers that produce the blood that operates the body."

Suddenly it clicked where I'd heard it before. "Oh right, right.. yeah, that's what Brian had," I answered, nodding.

James thought for a moment, "You're right now that you mention it, yeah. Brian Littrell. Right. Yeah. So you're familiar with the condition then, good, good. That's what Matthew Steele has. He's had the VSD since he was born."

"I have a heart condition, too," I said, "I have cardiomyopathy. It's under control now, but -- I have it." I wasn't sure why I was sharing this. I guess just because we were talking about the heart and stuff.

James nodded, "I heard that. Good for you, getting it controlled." He smiled. "Anyways, Matthew Steele... He's a great kid. We were all really glad when we heard he was selected for this Christmas Miracle program thing. Everyone loves him at Vandy. His mom's pretty great, too. She's single and she works her ass off. They really deserved a break this season. Especially with... you know, everything."

"Everything?" I asked.

"Dr. Potter had to tell Ms. Steele earlier this month that Matthew needs to have a heart transplant in order to survive this," James' voice was low.

"What?" I asked. We were out in the lot and James was pulling open the Vanderbilt van's door for me. "But Brian's in his thirties," I said, "Isn't VSD just something you manage by, like, eating right or... exercise... or... something?" I tried to think of all the shit Brian had told me over the years. It seems like all those things were things he'd said to me about his condition.

Jame shrugged, "Most of the time it's a surgical fix - the doctor finds the location of the hole and patches it over," he said, getting into the van. Another college-age kid was behind the wheel. "But in Matthew's case, his heart repeatedly opens up new holes once the old ones have been replaced - like a leaky dam. In the process of various procedures and surgeries, his heart has been weakened and at this point his heart wall's like a giant patchwork quilt. Really it's more of a weak heart wall at this point caused by severe VSD. He's been through seven corrective surgeries and is currently on the list for a donor. If he doesn't get a heart soon, Matthew probably won't live to see his seventh birthday."

"When's his birthday?" I asked.

"July 28th."

I buckled my seatbelt as the camera crew loaded in and James closed the sliding door behind them. I could barely wrap my mind around the thought of a kid that could possibly never see seven years old - particularly when seven years old was only about eight or nine months away...

"To be honest, Nick," James said, interrupting my thoughts, "Matthew's probably going to be lucky to make it to see Christmas if he doesn't get a heart."

"So this isn't just a sick kid," I mumbled, "This is a dying kid."

James nodded slowly.

"And he asked to see me?"

"You read the essay, didn't you? We sent it to your manager."

I nodded numbly. "Yeah, I read it," I replied. "I just can't believe -- of all the people in the world -- me."

James smiled. "He really likes your music a lot. Really looks up to you."

"I'm really honored," I answered.

The van rushed out into traffic on the I-40, headed downtown. As we passed the exit that would head to Cool Springs, I wondered if Lauren had gotten everything into the car okay and was on her way home. I wondered what lingerie she'd put on for me that night, and if I'd still be in the mood after the apparently thoroughly depressing hospital visit I was about to make.

Okay so time for a little bit of honesty: One of my least favorite things in the entire world is hospitals. Especially children's hospitals. Not a lot of people realize this about me, because I feel like they'd look down on me for saying this but... I'm not the biggest fan of kids to begin with. They generally annoy the shit out of me. Which is probably weird because I'm basically a big kid myself. But kids and I - we just don't work well together. Then add in the fact they're sick and it gets even worse. Their lack of annoyingness becomes awkward and I feel kinda guilty for being a healthy grown-up, like I'm flaunting what they'll never have in front of them or something... Children that're sick freak me out.

Sick people in general freak me out.

This is why I never showed up when Brian was in the hospital back in 1998 with his VSD. This is why I ditched poor AJ when he had a knee injury on stage. I was a no-show for an ex-girlfriend at an ER after she had her ankle stomped on by a horse. I skipped out on Lauren once when she'd gone to the hospital when appendicitis the first year we'd been dating.

So you put Children and Hospitals into one environment and it's basically my version of Hell.

I sat there nervously thinking how guilty I was gonna feel standing around in front of this tiny sick kid who possibly wouldn't even see Christmas. My palms started to sweat and I wiped them on my jeans' knees.

"We really appreciate you doing this," he said as the van veered off the highway on an exit ramp. "The Christmas Miracle program is doing an amazing job granting kids wishes, and we're all really grateful that you pulled the time out of your hectic schedule to come visit us here." He smiled.

The van cut through the side roads of Nashville until it reached the children's hospital and pulled to a stop outside. The film crew got out first and the camera was trained on me as I pulled myself out of the van and James closed it. When the van drove on, I stared up at the Vanderbilt hospital building and my stomach did a little dance. "You ready to make a little boy's Christmas dream come true?" James asked.

I nodded.

"Follow me, then."

James led the way through the double doors. The receptionist looked up. "Morning, James." Her eyes flickered to me, then the crew. "Oooh are we filming for the Christmas Miracle program?" she asked, blushing and batting her eyes at them.

"We sure are, Giada." James grinned. "Wave hello. This is Nick Carter. From the Backstreet Boys."

Giada's eyes widened, "Hello Mr. Carter! I was a big fan in high school!"

"Hey," I replied, waving awkwardly, and I followed after James to the elevators and the film crew squeezed in with us so the elevator felt a little overpacked thanks to all the equipment that had been jammed in there with us. When it dinged, they shuffled aside as best they could and allowed me and James to step out first.

James led the way down a long corridor. "Okay, so we're going to stop by and meet Dr. Potter and the reps from the Christmas Miracle program and then we'll go meet Matty." He stopped outside of a conference room and smiled at me. "It was a really great pleasure getting to escort you to Vanderbilt, Mr. Carter," he said, and he pushed open the door.




Abbey

Matty was sitting in the bed nervously rolling the blankets in his tiny fists. A TV crew had showed up that morning to film the Christmas Miracle segment featuring Matty's big wish. Monica Potter had stopped in several times to see how we were all doing and keeping Matty's blood pressure in check.

"Are you excited, Matty?" one of the camera crew people asked him. He nodded vigorously and they laughed with sparkling eyes. "Not too much longer, our other crew is on their way in with your Miracle," they said.

I had no idea what to expect. I had no clue what Matty possibly could've asked for and he wouldn't even give me a hint - he just kept smiling slyly and saying stuff like "it's for both of us" and "you're gonna be so excited, mommy". I held his sweaty little hand as we waited.

When Monica came in the room, there was a hub-bub of shuffling behind her beyond the curtain. She came around the corner, smiling at me and Matty, doing her best to ignore the camera crew. "Good news," she announced, "We're here." And she stepped out of the way, and I stood up and Matty sat up straighter and time seemed to stand still for a moment. My heart beat wildly in my chest and I wondered what Matty's was doing and for a split second, I looked down at him, worried about what was going on in that little chest of his... and then I heard it.

"Knock, knock."

I swear my heart stopped, whatever Matthew's did. I looked up at the curtain he was coming around and it was like slow motion. I saw him blink, saw his face slowly unfurl into a smile one slight movement at a time until it had spread right to his brilliantly blue eyes. His hair was shorter now, his body leaner, more muscular. There were wrinkles around his eyes that hadn't been there in 2007, and the lines around his mouth were more pronounced, but there was absolutely no mistaking him.

It was Nick.

I backed away from the bed, my hand over my heart. I couldn't breathe.

Nick walked into the room slowly, around Monica, to Matty's bed and he grinned down at him, eyes sparkling, and said, "Hey Buddy, it's great to meet you." He held up his hand for a high-five, and Matty enthusiastically gave it to him.

"It's great to meet you," Matty answered. Then he turned to acknowledge me. "This is my mom," he said, "Her name's Abbey."

Nick was staring at Matty with searching eyes which he tore away to look where he was being directed - at me. His eyes landed on me and there wa a long pause. He stared at me, and there was a flicker - ever so slight - in which he did a double take and narrowed his eyes, his head cocking slightly. "Hello Abbey," Nick said, "It's... nice to meet you, too..." he held out his hand.

I reached a trembling hand forward to shake his.

He held onto it a little too long, staring down at my fingers before breaking the grasp. Then he turned back to Matty. "I got to read your essay," he said, and he lowered himself to be staring up into my son's eyes, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed as he spoke, "You did really good. I'm really glad that they picked your essay. You sound like an amazing little boy." Nick smiled brightly.

Matty turned red.

"And really brave, too," Nick added, "I heard about your condition and everything. Did you know you have the same thing my best -- my friend Brian had?" he asked.

I think I was the only person in the room that caught the stumble in his voice as he corrected the term best friend to friend.

Matty nodded, "My mom tells me that sometimes. It's really cool he's all better. Maybe someday I can be a Backstreet Boy, too, when I'm all better?"

Nick smiled, "Maybe. Can you sing?"

"Kinda," Matty replied.

"Wanna sing together?"

Matty nodded vigorously.

And I stood there, dumbfounded as all hell as Nick taught Matty how to warm up his voice doing scales and then they started singing I Want It That Way together and Matty grinned up at Nick as he did his classic runs and adlibs throughout the mini-performance. My hands were clammy and I could feel my stomach twisting within me. Could Nick tell - by the voice, by the looks in his eyes, the mannerisms? They were all his. I'd always known that Matty looked like his father but I never realized how much until Nick was there, standing directly beside him.

I glanced at the camera crew. Could they tell?

Nick gave Matty another high-five as they reached the end of the song. "Amazing," he said, "You really do know all the lyrics, don't you?"

"That one's one of the easy ones," Matty jested, "I know even the ones nobody else knows. Don't I, Mom?"

Nick looked up at me, "Does he really?" he asked.

I nodded, I couldn't seem to form words to speak.

"That's incredible, buddy," Nick said. "I don't even know half our older songs anymore," he laughed.

"I know every single one," Matty proclaimed. "Inside out!"

"See, you really are an amazing kid." Nick grinned.

"I know the dances too, like the one with the hat. I know it perfect."

"No way."

"Way!"

Nick laughed, "Well, I don't know if you'll be able to, it's going to be up to your doctor and your mom, but I have a set of tickets here for you to come see us do the hat dance in Atlanta," he said, reaching into his pocket, "You and your mom. Plus VIP passes." He pulled an envelope and held it out to me. "I opened the envelope and inside were two tickets to Jingle Jam in Atlanta for mid-December. "I really hope you guys can come meet the other guys, too, including Brian, and maybe we'll even have you come sing some of our songs on stage with us. How would you like that?"

Matty's eyes were the size of saucers, "Oh my God, yes that would be so cool." He turned to me, "Can we go Mommy?"

"It's up to Dr. Potter," I stammered.

"We'll have to see how your little ticker's doing," Monica answered before Matty could even ask. She grinned, "That's very generous of you, Mr. Carter," she said.

Nick turned to her, "Additionally, I'd like to make a donation to the hospital." He reached in his pocket again and handed her yet another envelope. Monica's eyes were large as she opened the envelope, jaw dropped, staring up at Nick. He turned back to Matty and I while Monica was still marveling at the check. I imagined there were a lot of zeros on there. Nick's eyes met mine again and he smiled, but I wasn't sure if it was in a familiar, recognizing way or just a friendly smile. "Your son," he said, "Is truly amazing. I'm really glad I got a chance to meet him."

"I am, too," I stammered.

He turned to Matty. "You stay strong, okay, buddy?"

"Okay."

"Gimme a call sometime when you grow up and we'll see about you becoming the sixth Backstreet Boy, a'ight?" Nick grinned.

Matty's eyes widened and twinkled. "No way, that'd be awesome."

Nick gave him a hug, his large-knuckled hands wrapping around Matty's small frame, making him disappear in there. Matty's hands clutched Nick's shirt and he hugged him close. "Thank you," he said.

Nick took a deep breath, "No, thank you, buddy," and he pulled back. "Merry Christmas," he added to us both, and he turned, following Monica and the Christmas Miracle reps back out and into the hallway. The camera crew that'd joined us with them followed, leaving us alone with our crew.

"How amazing was that, Matty?" asked one of them.

"Totally!" Matty answered.

I stared at the door they'd all gone out. My heart was stirring around.

"How do you feel, Mom?" she asked me.

"I'll be right back," I replied, and I darted out of the room, my sneakers squeaking on the tile floor.

In the hallway, they were already almost to the elevator. I rushed down the hall, my breath caught in my throat. What the hell was I going to say once I got to them anyways? I wondered. Nick was getting onto the elevator, shaking hands with Monica. I sped up. "Nick!" I shouted as the elevator doors started to close. "Nick, wait!" He must've hit the button that stalled the doors closing, they swept back open again and I pushed by the camera crew and Dr. Potter to the car. "Hey, wait a second. Can I buy you a coffee or something?"

Nick stared into my eyes. "Yeah," he said, "Yeah, sure."

Chapter Seven / 2013


Abbey

Nick and I rode the elevator to the fourth floor and walked along the corridor toward the cafe. He was quiet as we walked, our footsteps kind of echoing off the tile and the walls. We pushed open the double doors and entered the cafeteria. It was full of med students and doctors and families. We walked over to the coffee dispenser - this big ugly machine like a soda dispenser, offering regular, decaf, chai, or hot chocolate. "I'm sorry," I said, the first words either of us had spoken since the elevator when he agreed to go with me for coffee, "I know it's not like Starbucks or anything, but..."

"I just flew back from Europe," Nick said, "I was drinking airplane coffee. If it has caffeine, then I'm good." He hit the button and coffee streamed out of the machine into his cup. He studied me as it splooshed into the bottom of the styrofoam.

"How was Europe?" I asked. He pulled his cup away and I put mine under the stream of coffee next.

He shrugged, "It was European."

I laughed. "I've never been over there," I said.

"You oughtta go sometime," he replied. "It's nice."

"I'm lucky I can get to my apartment right now," I said. I slid the cap on my coffee as he added cream and sugar. I liked mine black. He took a sip and we headed to the cashier. He stepped ahead of me, holding out the money before I could get my card out. "You don't have to do that. I was supposed to buy it."

"It's all good," he said, taking his change and shoving it back into his wallet. We walked across the cafeteria, past laughing groups of med students. "Want to go outside?" Nick asked. The tables all looked full and we had to shout to hear over the noise.

"Yeah, that's good," I replied.

We pushed open the doors that led to a big courtyard out back. Nick followed me over to a little bench under a tree, surrounded by old orange leaves that had fallen from the tree above. He sat down, swiping away the leaves with his hand so I could sit beside him. "I gotta tell ya," he said as I sat, "You got balls, being here, staying sane." He stared up at the walls of the hospital. Windows were covered with paintings of animals and leaves and some of the windows had clings hanging in them, standing out in bright colors contrasting the bricks of the building, reaching up into the sky. "I wouldn't be able to do it." He sipped his coffee.

I wrapped my hands around the cup, feeling the heat radiating off it, gathering strength from it. "Nick," I said after a long pause, "Do you remember me?"

He looked at me and his eyes had a serious expression in them. He took a deep breath. "I feel like... like I should," he replied. "But... honestly, I see a lot of people and..." he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I didn't really think you would," I answered. I stared down at the cup.

"When did we meet before?" he asked.

"Halloween," I replied, "2006." Nick chewed his lower lip, thinking. "You dropped a glass of God-knows-what down my back. I was a zombie bride. You were... a Backstreet Boy." He stared at me for several long moments, his eyes searching mine. "It's okay," I said. "Like I said, I didn't expect you to remember me. I just wanted to tell you --" I paused. "Just thank you, that's all."

Nick licked his lips.

"I won't keep you," I said. "You just got back from Europe. I'm sure you're exhausted and that your girlfriend's waiting for you somewhere." Nick stared at me as I stood up from the bench. "I've already taken up enough of your time."

He stood up, too.

"I hope you have a wonderful Christmas," I said, and I started toward the door.

"Abbey," he said, "Wait a second."

I stopped just a couple steps from the door, my hand already half reaching for the handle. He put his cup of coffee down on the bench and came over. He started to say something, holding his breath as he tried to form the words, then let it out in a short gasp. He laughed and turned away, running a hand through his hair, his tongue resting against his lower lip as he pieced together what he wanted to say. I stared up at him, waiting.

"You and I..." he said quietly, "We... You know. Right?"

I chewed my lip. I nodded.

He looked up at the building again, at the blue sky beyond it. "Abbey," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't call. Part of me kinda thought maybe you were, like, a dream or something. I mean I have your number written in this old book, and I remember putting it there and thinking I'd call ya when I was better - like more like a girl like you deserved." He smiled sadly, "Just one of many mistakes I made back then."

My insides were crawling around.

"It's so wild that of all the people in all the world the Christmas Miracle reps happen to chose your son to ---" he stopped mid-sentence. He stared at me for a moment. "Your - um... your six year old son." Nick's eyebrows cinched together. He rubbed the back of his head. "July. July 28th they said, right? That's his birthday?" He stared at me. "That's - that's what, like... like -- Halloween, so November first... December, January, March... April... May... June..." he ticked the months off on his fingers.

His voice faded out before he reached July.

He stared at me. Right into my eyes.

I knew the moment his mind made the connection because his eyes widened just a little like he was about to fly into a panic. I didn't dare to move.

He kind of looked like he'd been turned to stone or something. He just stood there, eyes a little unfocused, his mouth open forming the silent word July, nine fingers held up between us. Then he shook himself out of it, and he grabbed the handle of the door, yanked it open, and went inside.

I stood there in the courtyard after the door had closed, the smell of him fading away in the crisp air. Somewhere, a dog was barking and the leaves blew across the stone pathway, re-covering the bench seat we'd occupied, knocking over his coffee cup. The lid fell off and the brown liquid steamed and pooled on the cement. I walked over on shaking knees and lifted the styrofoam cup and plastic lid from the ground and shook the coffee remnants off, tossing it into the little blue trash bin next to the door before going inside.

The cafeteria was still loud and bustling with activity. I walked through it, wondering what any of these people would say if they knew what they'd been just on the other side of a window from witnessing.

I rode the elevator back upstairs. I didn't know what I expected - if I expected Nick to be waiting for me somewhere or to have gone back to see Matty or what - but he wasn't anywhere to be seen, and as I walked back to Matty's room, all I could think was that he wouldn't be back. He was probably running away, faster than hell.

Sometimes, I thought, standing outside Matty's room and taking a deep breath, preparing myself to be the happy mom he needed, I wished that I could run away, too.




Nick

I got a cab home.

My mind raced, trying to piece together the story, trying to make it make sense. Or not make sense. I wanted to disprove it somehow. I didn't know how because it was all too perfect. My hands shook as I paid the cabbie and climbed out of the car, slamming the door.

The house Lauren and I bought was a grand old thing on a side street in southern Nashville. It had a big lawn and trees and stuff and she'd put up those fake candle stick lights in the windows and a big wreath on the door. It glowed invitingly as I walked up the walkway to the door. I'd only spent like a week in the house before going to Europe, so it was still new and unfamiliar. It attributed perfectly to the racing of my mind, where everything was new and unfamiliar all of a sudden. I turned the handle on the door and stepped inside. It smelled like food and warmth in there.

"Nick? Is that you?" Lauren called.

It wasn't until I heard her voice echoing from upstairs that I remembered her promise to have dinner ready.

"Yeah, it's me," I called back.

"Come upstairs!"

I stood at the bottom of the stairwell, and my heart raced against the inside of my rib cage. I was feeling a little dizzy. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. How was I going to tell Lauren about all this? Was I going to tell Lauren about all this? I mean, it was kind of going to eventually work itself out, wasn't it? It was only a matter of a couple weeks, maybe a month, and it would all be over anyways.

I felt guilty for even thinking like that.

"Nick?"

"I'm coming," I said thickly. I started up the stairs.

I could see him in my head, see him when I closed my eyes. Those blue eyes, that blonde hair. There wasn't any mistaking it. I could see it in my memory, though I hadn't really seen it then.

I rounded the corner of the door to the bedroom and Lauren was laying there on the bed, her body clad in this silky black thing that only just covered her. Her hair was pinned up like she was one of Charlie's Angels and her eyes were done smokey and sexy. She grinned from behind dark lips and she waggled a perfectly manicured finger at me to come hither. I walked slowly toward her.

"You... are a hero... to some little boy," she cooed as she got up to her knees and crawled toward the edge of the bed, holding out her hands for mine. I slid them into hers. She smiled into my eyes. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered, and she kissed my cheek.

I closed my eyes. I wanted to let go, to just accept her loving and forget everything else, to just drop back into my life before I knew. It's not like I could do anything to help Abbey and Matthew anyway, it's not like me being a part of their lives could change anything, could make anything better. It's not like I wanted a kid, it's not like I meant to get myself in this position, or even that I'd ever really remembered how I got there. Fuck drugs, fuck drinking, fuck the past, I thought cruelly to myself. What good would it do to rupture what little stability still existed in my life? It'd do no good at all. Nobody but me and Abbey knew, I thought, and if she'd intended to tell the world she would've done it six years ago. I could easily run away from this and never look back. After all, only bad could come from admitting to what I'd found out.

Lauren's mouth was on my shoulder, in the crook where my neck met the collar bone.

"Lauren," I whispered.

"Hmm?" she hummed against my skin.

"Lauren," I said again, and it took all my strength to take a step back from the bed, to hold her at arms length, to look into her deep, chocolate brown eyes.

She tilted her head slightly, staring into my face, her lips uncurling from the smile to an expression of concern as she stared into my eyes. "What's the matter?" she asked thickly.

"He's mine," I said.

"What?"

"The Christmas Miracle kid. He's my kid. He's my son."

Lauren stared at me, her mouth gaping. Her lip trembled, "I - wh - how?"

I shook my head, "I didn't know," I stammered. "Until I got there. And -- he looks -- the VSD, he has 'til Christmas -- and Abbey, his mom -- I -- It was Halloween..."

"Slow down," Lauren said, rubbing my arms, "Slow down. C'mon, here, sit down." She guided me onto the bed beside her. "Start from the beginning," she directed.

I practically melted onto the bed beside her. I felt completely dazed. I stared ahead and she clutched my hand, squeezing it gently, her eyes trained on my face, waiting patiently for me to come to words. I looked over at her. She looked as scared and wild as I felt. Panic was coursing through me.

And I realized I had an awful lot to lose.

Chapter Eight / 2013... and a little 2008


Nick / 2008

I put my hand on my chest. The guys were still going through the dance moves, but there was something going on inside me and I suddenly couldn't breathe. I glanced over at Howie, AJ, and Brian, all out at center stage. What would happen if I keeled off right here, right now? My eyes floated to the fans, who were utterly unaware of the discomforting tightness behind my chest wall. I'd fall into them, I realized, like falling into an ocean from a high cliff, and I'd be engulfed by them and I'd probably drown down there on the general admission floor. The heel of my hand dug deeper into the skin of my chest. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, which shot a striking pain through me.

I winced.

A couple of concerned fans' eyes met mine when I reopened my eyes.

But as suddenly as the pain came, it went, and I realized I could breathe okay again and I ran off towards the fellas.

Despite the fact that it'd felt like a lifetime standing on the edge of the stage there, teetering between life and death, it had actually been less than a couple beats in the song and they barely noticed my disruption to the choreography. Howie flung his arm around my back, pulling me into a group hug as the fans all cheered.

Nobody but me knew how close I'd come to passing out.

It was a month later I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy and I finally started to become the person I was meant to be.


Nick / 2013

I laid in bed staring up at the ceiling while Lauren slept. She snored, but only a little, in a quiet way. I appreciated the warmth of her body beside me, but was glad she wasn't all tangled up around my limbs like she usually was when she cuddled or whatever. I needed the space to breathe at the moment, I was feeling overwhelmed enough without her on top of me. Just knowing she was there was enough.

I'd often wondered over the years how many kids I'd unknowingly fathered. It was one of my greatest fears, to be honest, that during my more promiscuous years of coke and booze I'd proliferated like Genghis Khan or something. I frequently had nightmares that eventually they'd all come out of the woodwork to seek revenge on me, like an army of living Chucky Dolls, pissed off at their delinquent, deadbeat dad. And now I knew that there'd been at least the one.

Maybe, I thought, some part of my subconscious had known. I mean I'd managed to hang onto her phone number for seven years. That in itself was a miracle. I was a professional at misplacing phone numbers and things like that, but somehow hers had stuck around, like I'd deemed it more important than the others. Like the hook-up had meant more. Maybe that's why she'd floated to the forefront of my mind every now and then. I thought about how I'd sat in the van in Europe, running my thumb over the numbers on the book cover. Even as recently as that, I'd thought of that night.

Lauren had been so gracious about the whole thing. She'd sat with me, listened while I rehashed what I knew of the story, and we'd laid down and she'd just been there beside me without getting too close or being too clingy. AJ told me once, when my sister Leslie died, about this Jewish custom where they just go and sit with a person who's in mourning - it's called sitting shiva or something like that - and that's what it felt like Lauren had done for me. Not because I was particularly in mourning, but because I just needed someone to sit by me and be there.

She really was an amazing woman, amazing how she knew exactly what to do to be everything I needed.

I wondered what she'd think of me and the choices I made from here on out in the situation. Like, what if I decided to go back to the hospital and pull Matthew Steele into my life and become a real dad. What would she think of me then? And what if I didn't? What if I decided to forget the whole thing, let the kid live out the rest of his life without me? Would she think less of me for being too much of a coward to face the changes that his existence would make in my life?

I let out a deep breath. That was the real question right there, I realized. Would I be a coward for running, if I ran? Or would it be the only fair thing to either of us - me or him - given the amount of time that we were talking about him hangin' around for?

Then I had a scary thought. What if I was the reason he was sick? I mean, I was diagnosed with a heart condition about a year after he was born. What if my weak heart got passed on to him somehow through some crazy ass DNA strand thing? What if them knowing my medical history could help repair him, could help save his life? I ran my hand across my chest, even though it wasn't hurting, I could picture how it felt when it got tight and my heart stopped functioning right. It was a terrible feeling. Was that how he was feeling all the time?

I glanced over at Lauren. She was fast asleep, her face peaceful.

I got up, sliding off the bed, and grabbed my sweatshirt from the chair in the corner, kicking my shoes on. I snuck down the stairs to the foyer, grabbed my keys, stubbing my toe on a table I hadn't expecting, and slipped out the door. It was a little rainy, the drops falling steady but not big or harsh yet. I slid into the car and put my keys in the ignition, hoping the sound of the engine wouldn't wake Lauren up.

The car headlights cut through the night as I drove north on the 65 toward downtown. The Batman building lit up the sky with it's two blue spires. Traffic was dead, as it should be at two in the morning. When I took the Demonbruen exit, I wove through the numbered aves until I made it to the Vanderbilt complex and drove under the catwalk that stretched between the emergency clinic and the children's hospital. I swept my car into a space and hopped out, heading inside.

Visiting hours were way over, but I didn't want to give myself time to chicken out of this, so I walked past the receptionist as naturally as I could, like I belonged there, like I'd been there all along and I'd just stepped out for a smoke or something, and I took the elevator up to Matthew Steele's floor. When the elevator dinged open, I had the best stroke of luck I'd had yet -- James stood before me, staring down at a clipboard, wearing a white lab coat. He looked up in surprise.

"Hey Doogie Howser," I said, stepping off the elevator and spinning him, wrapping my arm over his shoulders, "Can I borrow you for a quick second?"

He blinked in surprise, "Uh.. yeah, of course. Is everything okay, Mr. Carter?" he asked. Concern furrowed his brow and he glanced around, as though looking for the camera crew, either for the Christmas Miracle taping or maybe for Punk'd or something.

"I just gotta talk to, like, a doctor or something, and you're the perfect one. Do you have an office we can go to? It's important. It's about Matthew."

James nodded and waved me to follow him. We walked down a corridor and he turned into a small office area, the one where I'd met the reps from Christmas Miracle earlier that day. Along one wall were a couple offices off the main one. Each labeled with a different MD's name and credentials. James waved me to one of the chairs facing the main desk. "I'm just an intern," he explained, "I don't have my own office like Dr. Potter."

"You'll have one eventually," I said.

James smiled, "I certainly hope so, that's the dream." He paused. "Mr. Carter, how can I help you?"

I leaned against the desk. "I need to know if there's any connection between what Matthew has and one of the parents having been diagnosed with cardiomyopathy," I said.




Abbey

"The kid at table two just spilled orange juice all over the place," grumbled Kiki, the other overnight waitress. "Everything - including the fucking kid - is sticky." She threw her hat onto a counter in the back of the kitchen and came out onto the back step with me, yanking a box of cigarettes out of her pocket.

"I hate when people smoke," I said pointedly.

She shoved them back in her pocket. "I hate when people exist," she replied.

I hugged my knees to my chest.

"Hey what's the matter with you tonight anyways?" Kiki asked. "You've been quiet. Everything okay with Matty?"

I nodded.

"You sure?"

I kept my eyes trained on my toes. "I saw his father today for the first time face-to-face since the night I got pregnant," I admitted. My hands cuffed my ankles and I rubbed the round bone that stuck out above the sides of my sneakers. "He didn't know until today that Matty even existed, and he did the math and... he looked like he was gonna be sick, then he ran off."

Kiki let out a low sigh. "Men," she complained.

"Yeah," I said.

"You think he'll come back?"

"Doubt it," I mumbled.

"You gonna go after him, get some child support or something out of him at least?" Kiki asked.

I shook my head.

"Stupid if you don't girl," she commented.

"I don't really blame him. I mean, I never called him and told him, I never put any effort into finding him. But he showed up today and I couldn't just let him walk away without giving him the chance." I hesitated. "Dr. Potter says I'm going to be lucky if Matty lives through the holidays. I actually was looking at children's caskets online last night." I looked up at the night sky, my eyes filled to the brim with tears I was struggling not to shed.

"Oh God, honey," Kiki wrapped her arms around me. "I'm sorry. And here I am bitching about the kid at table two when you've got real problems that have nothing to do with sticky orange juice. I'm so sorry."

I shook my head.

"Matty's a strong kid, maybe he'll surprise you and pull through," Kiki suggested.

I nodded.

"Miracle happen all the damn time," she continued.

"I know," I croaked.

Kiki rubbed my arms and leaned her head on my shoulder.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, silently.

Chapter Nine / 2013


Abbey

"Morning Phil," I said as I passed the old man in the hallway. He tipped his hat off and waved as I passed. I was carrying a styrofoam take out box filled with chocolate chip waffles, Matty's favorite.

Considering everything, I was feeling pretty good. Kiki and I had sat on the back stoop of the Waffle House until every tear in me had been shed and she'd hugged me through it all. I felt like I'd drained all the negativity out of my system and I was starting fresh on a new, positive foot. It was the best I'd felt since Monica had taken me into her office to talk to me about Matty's current prognosis.

And to make me feel even better, I could hear Matty's musical little laugh trilling from out in the hallway as I approached his room. I smiled at the sound of it, pausing just outside the door. From here, he sounded like the happiest little boy on earth.

Then, I heard a man's voice, "It's an actual word. You can look it up in the dictionary."

"No it isn't," Matty wheezed, "It's not, you're makin' that up."

"Chickenese is a language spoken by chickens on their home planet."

My eyebrows stitched together as I walked into the room and came around the curtain. My eyes went first to Matty, who was sitting up in bed, his legs folded like a pretzel on top of the blankets, his little toes showing, leaning to get leverage to look at the Scrabble board on his tray table. He looked up at me, his face aglow. Sitting beside him was Nick, wearing a beyond wrinkled Tampa Bay Buccaneers t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had most definitely seen better days. Nick was balancing his letter tray on the edge of the bed. He looked over at me and an unknowable look flickered onto his face.

"Mommy," Matty said, excited, "Look who came to visit again." Ecstatic is more the word. The kid was on cloud nine. He squirmed just saying the words. "Mr. Nick says we're buds now."

I took a couple steps into the room, unable to put together words in my mind, not to mention my mouth. I was stammering even in my head, I was so shocked. I put the waffles down on the bedside table and turned to look at them.

"Are those chocolate chip waffles?" he asked, peering longingly at the take out box.

"They sure are," I replied.

"Are they for me?" he asked.

I picked the box back up and handed it to him and he eagerly took it. "Have you ever eaten at the Waffle House, Mr. Nick?" Matty asked.

"I think everyone's eaten at the waffle house," we both said at exactly the same time. Nick and I met eyes over the bed as Matty laughed.

"You guys sounded like those cats in Lady and the Tramp," he hooted.

"We are Siamese if you please," Nick sang. He bobbed his head.

Matty's laugh trilled again.

I couldn't take it. "Eat your waffles, lil man, I gotta talk to Mr. Nick in private." I grabbed Nick by the wrist and pulled him out of the room, where I closed his room door gently and Nick leaned against the wall. "What're you doing here?" I asked.

Nick stared into my eyes for a long moment, then took a deep breath, "I couldn't sleep last night. I went home when I took off yesterday and I told my - my fiance about --" Nick nodded at the door, "But I couldn't sleep. I just laid there thinking about him."

My insides were squirming, and I wasn't sure if it was nerves because he'd come back and all that his return to the hospital might imply or if it was because he was looking at me and there was something about being caught in the gaze of those eyes.

"Look," Nick's voice was low, "My childhood was shitty at best. My mom and dad were alcoholics and they weren't around like they should've been. We weren't a broken family, but we were broken." Nick's eyes glistened with meaning. "If I'd known seven years ago what I know today..."

My heart nearly stopped.

Nick looked down at his shoes. "That's not true. Seven years ago I was still a drunk coke addict. I wouldn't have stepped up even if I knew back then." He shook his head, "But I'm a different person now. And... I can't just run away from this."

I didn't know what to say.

"I came back at like two in the morning," he continued in my silence, "I talked to James. I was worried because --" he closed his eyes. "I have cardiomyopathy."

"I know," I said, "I read the People Magazine article."

Nick bit his lip, "I was scared that it might've been my genes that caused... this."

My mouth went dry. I'd sat in a chair beside Matty as a baby in the hospital, hooked up to all kinds of machines keeping his little heart beating right, reading that magazine article, wondering exactly the same thing. "It doesn't matter," I whispered.

"James pulled my medical records," Nick said, "Last night. We looked at my medical records and we tried to figure it out. We spent hours. Abbey, my cardiomyopathy, it was induced by my alcoholism, but heart disease ran in my family, it was a recessive gene that I basically woke up." His eyes shimmered as they started to fill, dangerously close to tears. "This is my fault," he whispered, his voice shaking, "He inherited a weak heart from me."

My mind was spinning.

"Not only was I not here," Nick choked, "But I gave him a shitty heart." He stared right into my eyes as the tears began to slip over the rims of his eyes, "Abbey, I've broken his heart in every way I possibly could."

I had no words. I hated how being around Nick did that to me, how he stole my vocabulary right out of my mouth. I stumbled forward and wrapped my arms around him, feeling numb. He pressed his face into my shoulder and I felt the heat of tears fall, soaking my shirt. His body felt both big and small at the same time. It was like holding Matty only bigger. I ran my hands down his spine softly like Matty liked me to do when he wasn't feeling good, and I whispered, "It's okay," in his ear in my best comforting voice. The irony of knowing how to comfort Nick because I'd comforted my son a thousand times over the years created a weird sensation to rush my mind. I closed my eyes. "You didn't know," I whispered. "Neither of us blame you, Nick."

Nick struggled to pull back and stand upright. He swiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He took a shaky breath and rolled his eyes up, trying to regain composure. "Does he know -- who I am?" he asked. "Is that why he wrote the essay?"

I shook my head. "He doesn't know. He only knows you're his favorite Backstreet Boy. I wanted --" I looked at my hands. "I wanted him to know someday, so I kept your stuff. I know usually when you like see movies or hear stories about stuff like this happening the mom like throws away all her old band stuff and the kid never knows who the father was or grows up hating the guy's music or whatever but I didn't want to be that cliche. I didn't want to be bitter at you for what happened because it was just as much my fault for being afraid to call you. So I made sure he grew up hearing your music, knowing who you were... without knowing who you were."

Nick nodded. We stood there in silence for a couple moments. Nurses passed by us, eyeing us. One looked like she recognized Nick but she was trotting after a flock of doctors and obviously didn't have time to stop and react. Then Dr. Potter came down the hallway, behind her was the LNA of the day, pushing the vitals cart. "Good morning," she said, grinning at me. Her eyes flickered to Nick in surprise, "Mr. Carter. Back so soon?"

"Yeah," Nick replied and he flashed a million dollar smile her way. He had a beautiful smile, even when it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm sure Matthew is delighted."

"He's beating me at Scrabble," Nick answered.

Dr. Potter laughed, "He's very smart for his age." She waved the LNA with the vitals cart into the room. "I can see you two were talking," she said, "Sorry for interrupting. Carry on." She ducked into the room herself, leaving the two of us in the hallway.

I looked at Nick.

"Look," he said slowly, "I dunno if you want me to stick around or not, but..."

"I do."

He smiled shakily.




Nick

Matthew Steele was smart. He might've been only six, but he had the mind of a twenty year old. I swear. It was easy to talk to the kid, unlike most kids, who make it hard because all you feel like you can talk about is, like, the Muppets or something. Matthew Steele knew about football and he was legitimately beating me at Scrabble and he had a sarcastic sense of humor. If it hadn't been for the slight lisp to his voice it would be almost impossible to tell he was a kid.

Abbey and I went back into his room. Dr. Potter was just finishing up getting his vitals and she pulled a candy cane out of her pocket for him. Matthew grinned. "Thanks," he said. Abbey went over to his side and slid her fingers through his hair.

"I'll be back in a little bit for morning rounds," Dr. Potter said. She smiled and led the way out of the room as the nurse that had come in with her followed.

I didn't know if Abbey planned to tell Matthew who I was or not yet, so I went back to the game of Scrabble without saying anything about it. "You didn't cheat while I was gone, right?" I teased.

"Why do you think I'm winning?" Matthew asked, a twinkle in his eye.

I laughed and picked up my letters from the nightstand where I'd left them when I got up to go with Abbey to the hallway. She was watching the board from Matthew's side. "There's a lot of big words on here," she commented.

"The big words are his," I admitted. They were, too. My high scoring word was adding "-ese" to his chicken. Which wasn't even a real word.

Matthew studied the board a moment, then started plucking letters from his tray and added letters to create Spatula. I stared at my letters. There wasn't much of anything so I added it onto his spatula's T square.

We spent an hour or so that way, finishing up the game, which I lost by a wide margin. Like Grand Canyon wide. When it was almost over, my phone had vibrated in my pocket - Lauren reminding me we had to go do the grocery shopping and pick out a last couple pieces of furniture for the house together. I'd texted her back that I was on my way. So as Matthew picked up the pieces of the game, I stood up. "I better get going," I announced.

"You should stay. Myth Busters is gonna be on in a few minutes," Matthew whined.

I really enjoy that show so I meant it when I said, "I wish I could stay to watch, but I gotta get home."

Abbey took the packed up Scrabble box from the table. "I'll watch Myth Busters with you, sweetie," she said.

"You always fall asleep." Matthew looked at me, "Can't you just stay a little bit more?" he asked.

I sighed. Lauren probably thought I was halfway home by now. I was already going to be making up shit about traffic on the interstate. "I really can't. But I'll tell you what, I'll come back again real soon and visit, okay?"

"Later?" Matthew asked, his eyes pleading.

"Maybe," I answered, "I can't promise," I added as he fist-pumped the air with excitement. "It was cool hanging out with you again, buddy. Stay cool."

"Always," he replied.

I gave him a high-five and I nodded to Abbey, and I stepped out of the room into the hallway. As I walked away, I felt fatigue wash over me. It'd been like two hours of playing Scrabble and I was exhausted. I shoved my hands into my pockets. I wasn't cut out to do the whole parenting thing. I could still remember taking care of my siblings when I was just a kid myself and how it'd been so hard to always be cheerful for the younger kids, even when something was bothering me. I always had to show the brave face. It was tiring.

"Nick, wait a second." Abbey's voice carried down the hallway. I stopped by the elevator and she rushed toward me, carrying the packed up Scrabble box. She jogged down the hall to me and stopped in front of me, hugging the game to her chest.

"You like catching me at the elevator, don't you?" I teased her.

She blushed a little. "I just wanted to thank you," she said, "For coming back."

"No problem," I said. Although the phrase sounded clunky, like it didn't belong there, but I didn't know what else to say. What does one say when they're thanked for not running away from a situation like that? I didn't know. Maybe there wasn't a standard protocol for such a thing.

She chewed her lip, "Look. I was thinking." She paused. "I don't think we should tell Matty until --" she paused again. "Until you --" she took a deep breath. "Nick, I know it's weird, this whole thing, especially for you. You didn't know he existed, then you do, then you find out he's yours and he's dying and --" her voice caught in her throat.

I blinked. I had no idea where this was going.

Abbey licked her lips. "I think we should wait to tell him who you are until I know you aren't going to run away again. Just... just in case you decide you want to."

"In case I want to... what? Run away?" I asked.

Abbey nodded. "I think... given everything... you deserve to have an out if you need it," she said. "Consider it your parachute."

I nodded.

"That's all I wanted to say. I'm sorry I kept you. Again." She backed away, still hugging the Scrabble board. "I'll, um, see you. Next time. Later. Whenever."

I nodded again and the elevator door dinged open.

Abbey turned and jogged back to Matthew's room, disappearing inside.

I climbed onto the elevator and stood there, waiting for the doors to close. An old man with a walker wobbled up and I hit the button to keep the doors open for him. He slunk onto the elevator and stood beside me, clutching the handles of his walker. The doors closed and he looked over with a shaking jowl. "You're friends with Abbey Steele?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"Sorta," I answered, staring up at the numbers indicating the floor we were on, watching them go down.

"She's good people," he warbled. "Good people."

"Yeah she seems it," I replied.

"Name's Phil," he said.

"I'm Nick."

"Good to meet you Nick," he replied as the elevator stopped on his floor and the doors slid open. He started to hobble out. Then he paused, right over the door way. "See this walker, Nick?" he asked.

I nodded.

"You hurt that poor girl and I'll shove it so far up your ass you'll never get it out. You understand me?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Well? Do you?" he demanded.

"Yes," I answered.

"Yes....?"

"Yes sir. Phil. Sir," I stammered.

Phil nodded and waddled off down the hall. The elevator doors closed and I stared at the backside of the door.

Chapter Ten / 2013


Nick

I was pushing the grocery cart at Lauren's heels, relying on my sense of her movement more than actually watching where I was going. I was buried in my thoughts about Abbey and Matthew and everything. Lauren paused and looked at something and I vaguely heard her ask a question, so I just nodded and muttered a response somewhere along the lines of uh-huh.

Suddenly the cart was shoved back toward me and I jumped and knocked several cans off a shelf. "What the hell?" I demanded. Lauren was staring at me with one eyebrow cocked, her hands on the end of the shopping cart. "What'd you do that for?" I bent down to get the cans from the floor.

"I'm worried about you," she said.

I looked at her hands. She was holding a tofu-turkey. A tofurkey. "I'm more worried about what exactly you think you're doing with that football in your hands," I said warily.

Lauren sighed. "I knew you weren't listening to me. I was just saying we should make this instead of regular turkey. It's healthier."

"Thanksgiving is like the epitome of being unhealthy," I said, "The whole point of the holiday is to eat until you explode a little on the inside."

Lauren put the tofurkey back in the cooler she'd plucked it from and turned to face me. "Nick, are you okay? I know you're going through a lot right now and you've got a lot on your mind, but... you know you can talk to me about it, right? You don't have to keep it all in? I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," I said.

She sighed.

I abandoned my post at the helm of the cart and picked up an actual turkey and held it up to her. "How about this one?" I suggested.

"Nick, it's giant. You could feed an army with that thing."

"Well we'd have left overs," I said.

"For like a year," she argued.

"We could end up with someone coming over, like your dad or something," I suggested. I put the turkey back down though and dug around until I found a smaller sized one and put it in the cart with Lauren's nodded approval. I returned to the front of the cart.

Lauren looked back at her list and pulled the cart up an aisle. I walked along behind her, my mind wandering off again until once more she was just a blur that I was trailing.

When we got out to the car, I loaded the bags into the back and turned to get into the driver's seat, but Lauren caught me. "I'm driving," she said, taking the key from my hand.

"What? Why?"

"Why? Nick, you're like a zombie." Lauren turned and walked around, climbing into the car.

I climbed into the passenger seat. She stuck the key into it's spot but instead of turning on the car, she turned to look at me. "Please, talk to me about this."

"It's my fault," I said.

Lauren shifted in her seat. "How is it your fault?"

"I gave him heart disease," I replied.

"The little boy?"

"Yes," I said, nodding.

Lauren took a deep breath. "Nick, it isn't your fault anymore than it's your father's fault or your grandfather's fault that you have it," she said. She put her hand on my knee. "It's in your genes, it's a blood thing, it's not like you laughed maniacally and added it into the chromosome you gave him." Lauren tilted her head to the side. "I'm sorry," she said.

I took her hand. "I'm scared, Laur."

"Of?"

I licked my lips. "I dunno. A million things all at once. I'm scared of disappointing him now that he's got me all built up and on a pedestal. I'm scared of being a father, I'm scared he's not the only one. I'm scared what Abbey expects of me, I'm scared what you expect of me. I'm scared to lose you." My thumbs ran over her hand, kneading the skin on her knuckles.

"I'm not going anywhere Nick."

"Even though I have a kid with another woman?" I asked.

Lauren nodded.

I shuffled my feet nervously. "Laur, I feel dirty."

She smirked, "That's why I told you to take a shower before we left." She lifted her hand and kissed mine.

"I'm serious," I said. Lauren thought for a moment. Her pause made my heart race. "I mean it's been seven years that a kid that's half me has been wandering around and I had no idea. I feel like a man-whore.""

"We both have done things that we regret, Nick," Lauren said slowly, "But the past is the past and we are working on a future, you and me. I'm more focused on who you become, not who you've been. I'm more worried about how you handle the situation today than in what you did or didn't do to land you in it. See?"

I nodded.

"I'm proud of you for going back there this morning, and I think you made the right choice and I stand by you one hundred and ten percent, Nick."

It felt good to hear the words. I leaned across the center console and wrapped my arms around her, closing my eyes and squeezing her close to me. I felt weight lift off my shoulders. It was like the whole world had been sitting there, waiting for her to say that to me. "Thank you for standing with me on this," I said thickly into her hair.

"That's what families do," she said back.




Abbey

Well, Matty was right, I felt asleep during Myth Busters again. I woke up just as the second episode's credits were rolling up the screen and a commercial for some special about sharks played. I looked over at Matty, and he was laying back in his pillows, eyes half drooped. I sat up and ran my hand up the side of the bed to his hand and squeezed it gently. He looked over at me. "Hey," I said.

"Hi," he whispered.

"You okay?"

He nodded.

"Just sleepy?"

He nodded again.

I tucked the blankets around him and kissed his forehead softly, leaning forward so my elbows and chin rested on the bed. I stared up at his face. "I love you a whole bunch."

"I love you too," he replied. He looked over at the window, at the sunlight streaming in through the trees, tinted green. "Am I gonna go home before Thanksgiving?" he asked.

I took a deep breath, "I don't know."

"How about before Christmas?" he asked.

"I really don't know, lil man," I answered.

Matty sighed and he shifted his weight, pulling his hand away from mine. "It was really fun when Nick was here and we were playing games. I think he's really nice. It's really cool he came back to see me, isn't it?"

"It sure is," I said.

Outside, the wind blew, making the shadows of the leaves dance across the walls and floor of the room.

"Do I have to have another operation?" he asked suddenly.

"What? What makes you ask that?"

Matty shrugged, "Just everyone's been doing stuff for me. Dr. Monica's been bringing me candies and you've been staring at me all wet-eyed and Mr. Nick came to visit and those people with the cameras kept calling me brave. It just seems like something's going on and last time you looked at me like this it was because they had to make a patch on my ventricles again."

He was too smart for his own good. I couldn't even protect him from the truth. I took a deep breath. I didn't want to tell him the truth. I couldn't tell him that I'd Google searched coffins for him, I couldn't ever let him know that little boxes with balloons and butterflies painted on them existed. He could never know that. I took his hands. "I think everyone just wants you to be happy is all," I answered.

Please just accept that, I mentally begged him. Please. Don't ask me anymore questions. Please.

Matty stared at me for a long moment, then he nodded, "Okay," he replied. He snuggled into his pillows. "I think I want to take a nap, Mom, incase Mr. Nick comes back later, like he said. Okay?"

"Okay." I leaned up and kissed his forehead. "That sounds like a great idea."

He closed his eyes and I sat there with him until he'd fallen asleep, then I got up and I walked laps around the floor of the hospital, trying to get away from the nerves that coursed through my body. I felt terrible for lying to him like that, but at the same time I couldn't possibly be expected to tell him the truth, to burden him with such a load as what I was carrying. It would only scare him, would only make the world seem harsh and cruel to him, and he didn't need that. The world was hard enough for him.

Chapter Eleven / 2013


Abbey

I found myself fussing over my hair and make-up in the little bathroom mirror in Matty's room. He was watching me from his bed the way only little kids do. The TV was chattering away - some Discovery channel thing. I swiped my lip stick over my mouth and leaned closer, smacking my mouth together to spread the color more naturally. I looked over and saw Matty imitating me, making fish lips and popping them loudly. I laughed. "What're you doing that all for?" Matty asked curiously.

I shrugged, "Just... you know... sometimes it's nice to be pretty," I answered.

Matty smiled, "Are you trying to be pretty for Mr. Nick?" he asked.

I laughed - a little too hard - and shook my head - a little too insistently. "No. No.. No this is all for me." I smiled.

"You're always pretty anyway," Matty said and he turned to the stack of games he had on the rolling tray that hung over his bed. "Do you think Mr. Nick knows how to play Battleship?"

"I'm sure of it," I replied.

Matty moved the boxes around until he'd dug Battleship out and he sat with it on his lap, staring at the cover of the box, running his palms across the picture of the boat. "Do you really think he's gonna come tonight?" he asked. He was looking longingly at the clock.

I glanced up at it as I swiped mascara onto my eyelashes. "I hope so," I answered.

Matty sighed and leaned back in the pillows.

When I'd finally finished putting on make-up and gave up on the battle of woman versus hair, I went and sat down next to Matty. He stared at me for a couple moments, a little grin playing on his face. "What?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he said, "You look different with all that stuff on."

"Good different?" I asked.

He shrugged.

It was moments like that, moments when my six-and-a-half-year-old throws me into a complete fit of self doubt, that I really missed Melly.

Melly had been my best friend before I had Matty, but we'd had dreams to go places and do things and Matty had restricted how many of those places and things I was capable of. Melly had tried at first to stand by and be supportive. For the entire first year of Matty's life she was there. But once things started getting crazy and my life was turning into series of hospital stays and overnight work binges, she slowly drifted apart from me until one day she informed me that she was moving to Europe for a year and may very well not come back. She still emails every now and then about her fabulous life abroad - because yeah, no, she never did come back - and every time I just sit there staring at the emails wondering how different my life would be if only we had left Nick Carter alone that Halloween night.

"Knock-knock," Nick's voice proceeded him into the room. Both Matty and I sat up straighter at the sound of it, Matty grabbing onto the Battleship box with excitement. Then Nick came around the corner, grinning, "Hey I hope it's okay, I brought my fiance... We can't stay long, but I said I'd come back later and --" he looked pointedly at me, "I wanted to make sure you guys knew I wasn't going anywhere." He smiled and looked back at Matty as the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in my life walked around him and into the room, clutching a big expensive purse.

"Hello," she said, smiling. She had big sparkley brown eyes and her make up was done like it was a professional job or something. She had a wide mouth and hair that seemed to flow like water from her head.

Was I jealous? Fuck yeah I was jealous.

"Matty, Abbey.. This is Lauren. Lauren; Matty, Abby." He waved his hand at everyone in turn and Lauren smiled, revealing brilliantly perfect white teeth.

Suddenly my make-up felt kinda ugly and I felt stupid for having put any of it on.

"My heart is all kinds of messed up," Matty informed Lauren forwardly. "Ever since I was a kid." Like he wasn't anymore.

Lauren pouted, "I'm sorry, sweetie. You seem really brave about it." She tucked some hair behind her ear. "Oh hey, is that Battleship? That's so cool. I love that game."

Nick came around the bed over to me and sat down in a chair beside me as Matty and Lauren started setting up the Battleship game. He looked at me. "You don't mind I brought her, right?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. It's cool. I'm surprised you told her already."

"We have a very strict no secrets rule," Nick explained. "Basically it just is that we always, always tell each other the truth and react as open mindedly as we can. That's the only way to have a real relationship with trust and stuff." He smiled. "Lauren's really into that whole like talking thing."

I nodded. "Well that's cool." She was putting ships up on the board with Matty, laughing as he pre-game dirt-talked in a somewhat cocky tone. I looked at Nick, "So fiance, huh?"

He nodded.

"You never struck me as a marrying guy."

Nick laughed, "I never struck me as one either."

"So how long have y'all been together?"

"Like five or six years or something. I dunno."

I raised an eyebrow.

"We met while we were both using still," he explained. "So... the beginning's a little fuzzy for us both."

"Gotcha."

It was nice that Nick had found someone, I thought, watching her as she played Battleship with Matty. Did I wish it'd been me instead? Of course. But at least he'd found someone. Me and Nick, we probably wouldn't have worked together anyways, I told myself. I moved my hand to my mouth and tried to discreetly wipe some of the color from my lips and face.

I stared at her across the room. "You're really lucky," I mumbled.

"I know I am," Nick replied.

I looked over at him and realized he thought I was talking to him.




Nick

I really didn't intend to bring Lauren along to meet Matthew and Abbey, it really had been a timing issue. By the time we'd finished the grocery stuff and gone to look at all the furniture places on Lauren's list, I didn't have enough time to drive all the way home, then all the way back to Vanderbilt. And it seemed rude to leave Lauren in the car waiting. So in she'd come.

And I was really kinda glad, too.

After we'd said good-bye and Lauren had promised a rematch at Battleship, we headed down and got into our car. Lauren hadn't said a word he whole walk out to the car. We were on the interstate heading home before she said, "He's you."

I looked over at her, her face illuminated in the dark by the tailights of the cars ahead of us as she drove. She glanced at me for a split second before turning back and I could see the look of awe in her eyes.

"He's you, just in miniature."

"Poor kid," I joked.

Lauren shook her head, "No, Nick. It's incredible. When you told me, I kind of... I doubted, I was like yeah right what's the odds of that. I thought you were getting duped into something. I was working up the nerve to scream the word blood test at you, but... Jesus, there's no need. He's you."

"He's smarter than me," I commented. Chickenese.

Lauren rested an elbow on her window ledge and leaned her cheek against her palm, shaking her head slightly.

I stared down at my hands.

When we got home, Lauren headed upstairs to take a shower and I threw myself on the couch and turned the TV on. Even though the color and noise danced in front of me, I didn't really watch it, I lost myself in thought once again, my brain kind of rumbling over everything that had been going on in my life. It seemed like I had a lot to think about before finding out about Matthew, but I couldn't for the life of me recall what had been so incredibly stressful before. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling.

My phone vibed and I held it up, the screen bright against the mostly dark room. It was Kevin. I took a deep breath and sat up, answering the call with, "Yyyyyyyelllo?"

"Hey Nick, it's me, Kev."

"I know," I said.

"You still in Nashville?" he asked.

"Yeah." The TV flickered and I snagged the remote off the coffee table and turned it off.

"When are you comin' out to California?" he asked, "Kris wanted me to aske you about Thanksgiving, if you and Lauren had any plans or whatever..."

Ah California. I suddenly realized in all the crazy shit that had been going on since I got home from Europe, I'd completely forgotten about the upcoming Christmas concerts tour and promotional stuff we had scheduled for December. I rubbed my eyes. Part of me was relieved, I had a reason to leave, a reason that wasn't really running, just living my life the way it used to be. Part of me panicked because this month - this one little month of December - could be the only chance I had to get to know Matthew.

"Nick?" Kevin's voice was concerned, breaking into my thoughts. "You okay, buddy?" he asked.

"Yeah... I'm fine."

"Well? What do you think about Thanksgiving all together?"

I sat up. An idea had just occurred to me. "Kev, I gotta go," I said. "I'll call you back." I hung up before he could protest and I leaped to my feet and rushed up the stairs to the bathroom door. The shower wasn't running anymore, so I knew Laur was out. I slammed my hand against the door. "Lauuuuuuren," I called, "Lauren, I had an idea."

She opened the door, wearing her baggy old sweatpants and one of my clean t-shirts. She had a towel on her head. She raised an eyebrow as she turned back to the mirror, rubbing cream into her face.

"What if we asked Abbey and Matthew to come to Thanksgiving?" I suggested.

Lauren glanced my direction, still working the cream into her skin. "I thought of that too," she said. "Do you think he'll be out of the hospital by then? It'd be a lot of fun... We could bake cookies." She grinned.

"I dunno. I could ask Abbey," I suggested.

"Yeah, you should ask Abbey," Lauren answered. "I think Abbey could use the break, too. I can't imagine what she's going through."

I slunk over closer to her, wrapping my arms around her, tucking my face into her turban-towel. She smelled like flowers and soap and warmth and something sweet. I squeezed her close. "Have I mentioned how fucking perfect you are?" I asked.

Lauren mused, "Hmmm, not lately. You can feel free to tell me again."

"You're so fucking perfect it's like -- like -- like you were a -- a puzzle piece -- and you were cut out just for me or something," I said.

"God you're poetic," she said in an only slightly sarcastic tone. She turned in my arms and stared up at me, rubbing my shoulders. "I'm really proud of you."

I kissed her forehead, and looked into her eyes as I pulled back. "You know," I said, "I've been having cold feet about the wedding for the last like month or whatever but..." I shook my head, "Laur, I don't think I need to worry anymore because if you can stand by me through this, then there's nothing you and me can't get through together."

To this day, it still blows my mind that I said those words less than a month before everything everything changed for us.

Chapter Twelve / 2013


Nick

When I called Kevin back later that night -- there may have been a couple hours' delay due to me showing Lauren how much I appreciated her being perfect and all (If you know what I mean) -- he sounded surprised. "I didn't think you'd call back tonight," he said, "I was just about to go to bed."

I glanced at the clock and did some quick math. It was 7:30 in the evening in LA.

"Sorry, go to bed, Grandpa," I said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kev demanded.

"Nothing, just that there's second graders that stay up later than you do," I answered.

Kevin humphed.

I was picking at a fruit salad that we had in the fridge. Lauren was in the other room doing sit ups. I could hear her grunting. Some guys find exercise noises unattractive. I find them sexy. I leaned back in my chair. "Kev, while I got'cha on the phone, I have... an important thing I need to talk to you about."

"I knew there was something bothering you," he said with a hint of triumph to his voice. Kevin loves being right. "I knew it," he repeated. "I could tell the way you were quiet and all that earlier and the way you --"

"I have a kid," I blurted out, interrupting him.

Absolute, total silence filled the phone for what felt like a solid minute. I glanced at my watch.

"Lauren's pregnant?" he asked tentatively.

In the other room, Lauren let out a shout as she jumped to her feet from the floor. It was a very Hidden-Dragon kind of move. I shook my head, even though Kevin couldn't see it, "No, Laur's not pregnant." I paused, "Seven years ago there was this girl ---"

"Oh Jesus," Kevin muttered. "How much child support is she suing you for? Did you get a blood test?"

"Listen a second," I said. "Remember I told you about Eddie and the Christmas Miracle program kid I had to meet when I came back to Nashville?" I stared at the pattern on the piece of pineapple I was balancing on my spoon.

"Yeah?" Kevin asked.

"So I get to the hospital and the kid's amazing. Really smart. He has the same thing Brian had. The ventricle septical whatever-whatever --"

"Ventricular Septal Defect."

"Yeah that. So anyways, I go to leave after making the kid super happy and the mom comes running after me and --" I took a deep breath. "You know the phone number girl? The one I told you about when you came back?"

"Yeah..."

"It's her, Kev. Phone number girl has a six-and-a-half year old kid with VSD and blonde hair and big blue eyes."

Again with the dead silence filling the phone line. "You're serious."

"Yes," I replied.

"Did you ask her about it?" Kevin asked.

"I didn't have to. She told me. Well, kind of. We sorta came to an understanding about it."

Kevin let out a low whistle. "And she doesn't want any financial assistance from you at all?"

"Kev, she gave me an out. She told me outright I could walk away if I decided to."

"So the kid's okay then?"

"Come again?"

Kevin repeated, "So the kid's okay then?"

I wasn't entirely positive what he meant, so I said, "He's more than okay, he's great. He's amazing, actually. I've seriously never met a kid that was cooler than this kid. No joke, Kev."

"I mean with the VSD and everything," Kevin answered, "Did they repair the defect, get him all patched up?"

I put my spoon down. "Well. No. Not exactly." I covered the fruit salad and pushed it away. I took a deep breath. "Kev, I don't know if I can do the promo run this month. That's kinda part of why I'm telling you this." I chewed my lip. "They say he might not make it through the holidays."

Kevin's silence has always made me nervous. When I was younger it was because it was followed up by a good boxing 'round the ears. Who am I kidding? Last week it was. I waited in his silence, half prepping for him to somehow find a way to reach through the phone and smack me upside the head. I pictured him running across the country like The Flash or the Road Runner, with a big cloud of smoke hot on his heels. "Kev?" I said tentatively.

"Did you tell the fellas?" he asked, voice calm.

"Not... exactly," I said slowly. Then, "Well. Not at all. No."

Kevin sounded surprised, "Not even Brian?"

The tone of shock in his voice kind of stung because it was a throwback to the days before he left, before I fucked up everything between me and Brian. Back then, Brian and I were Frick and Frack, we were everything that the fans believed we were and more. He was the first person that I called whenever I was sad or hurt or needed help. He was like my a dad - a good dad, that is. In fact, he was my guardian way back when on European tours. I remember a day when I looked at him and I thought to myself how much I wanted to grow up to be just like Brian the way little kids wanna grow up to be just like Superman. But then the same thing that sent Kevin off like shrapnel eventually split Brian and I apart -- my fucking drinking and drug habits.

I can blame Leighanne all I want for the gaping chasm between Brian and I (and I frequently do blame her because, frankly, she can be a total bitch), but it wasn't her that caused it.

The demise of my friendship with Brian can be traced back to a single day - a single moment, even. I can still see him in my mind's eye, standing in the door of a dressing room in some concert hall in some city on the Unbreakable tour, staring at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. I'd shown up higher than God almighty, to the point that they'd already told the crowd I wasn't going to be able to perform, and Brian had been called to calm me down because I was in a hysteric fit.

I don't remember much of the exchange except for Brian's eyes, but I'm told that it was terrible. Brian apparently stared me straight in the eyes, told me that he couldn't take me doing drugs and drinking and falling apart the way that I was anymore and that if I didn't stop, he was going to have to quit just the same as Kevin did. And instead of me taking it as the ultimatum that he'd hoped for, in my drunken state, I'd screamed at him that I hated him. I'd shoved him into the wall so hard that the plaster broke a little and he'd sprained his wrist. I'd told him that he should've died in 1998 because all of our lives would've been easier if he wasn't around to judge us.

In short, I'd broken his heart.

He'd gone from being my best friend, who I told everything to, to being the guy in the band who I hardly spoke to outside of business situations. He became the one that found out about my life through the grapevine of the other guys talking about it. He became the last person in the world that I would ask for help from because who wants to help the asshole that treated you the way I treated him?

My pause to think about all this apparently was enough to give Kevin the answer to his question.

"You should call him," Kevin said.

"Brian doesn't wanna know my shit," I said, "He's got enough issues with the old balls-in-chain he's got."

Kevin took a deep breath, "I think you'd be surprised. Besides, maybe he can help you guys. Maybe he knows a better doctor that can save the kid's life or something. He's got all kinds of connections, how many of those fundraisers and videos and whatever has he done? You really should call him. If not for you, for the kid."

I sighed. As usual, Kev was probably right.




Abbey

I pushed Matty's hair up on his head and kissed his forehead softly. It was almost eleven and I had to leave the hospital to head to the Waffle House for my overnight shift. I hated the part where I would say goodbye to him and leave him there in the hospital alone with nobody but the nurses around to keep him company. It made my stomach turn to think that something could happen to him while there was nobody there to see. I squeezed his hand and checked about a hundred thousand times to make sure the nurse's call button was right there near him. "I love you," I said, "So much."

"Love you too," he answered sleepily. On TV, we'd set up Finding Nemo on his DVD player. He liked falling asleep to that movie because the fish made him happy. I remembered the time I took him out to Pigeon Forge to visit the big Ripley's Aquarium out there -- he'd been so ecstatic. I always promised him when he was little that one day I'd bring him to the ocean and we'd play in the waves and feel the sand melt away from between our toes.

We still hadn't been. And, if Monica was right, we never would.

"Sleep tight," I said. I took my purse and kissed his forehead one more time for good measure.

"Wait. Mom." He sat up and reached in the drawer beside his bed. "Here." He held up the toy catalog I'd been wrangling with him over. "I finished going through it."

"Did you find something five-stars?" I asked.

He nodded. "Night mom."

"Night," I replied, and I tucked the catalog into my purse. I was running late, so I didn't take time to look at it then. I'd look at it on break, I told myself, and I headed out to the car and drove to work.

When I got to work, it was crowded so Kiki and I set right to work getting waffles made and orders up as our chef-slash-night-manager Oscar shouted out order-ups. We were ducking and dodging around each other's trays and in and out of the little swinging door that let us behind the counter. It was a long shift and when it got over, I headed home for a couple hours' sleep before heading back to the hospital.

I threw my keys into the bowl just inside the apartment door and kicked off my shoes. It was freezing, so I turned up the heat and crawled onto the couch, pulling my fleecey blanket over me as I curled into a ball and turned the TV on. Reruns of I Love Lucy were on and I laid there staring at the TV vacantly, barely seeing the antics of Lucille Ball.

I didn't dare to fall asleep because lately my sleep had been haunted by nightmares. Terrible ones, ones that featured the little shoe box coffins with clowns and trains painted on them. I dreamt of gravestones with teddy bears leaning against them. I dreamt of unending nights of laying in an apartment as empty as this one was now.

I got up after about an hour of laying there, trying to tell myself that if I slept I wouldn't dream any of those things, and I walked down the hallway to Matty's room. He had a little sign on the door that had his name on it. I pushed the door open and inside the room was in pristine condition, except for the mess I'd made getting his books off his bookshelf to bring into the hospital room for him. He had action figures lined up against the window in various world-saving positions. There was a giant stuffed alligator on his bed and a poster of the Backstreet Boys over the bookcase. His lamp was shaped like a football and he had a Tennessee Titans jersey tacked to the wall.

I sat down on the bed and I spotted a Magic 8 ball on his nightstand and I picked it up, shaking it gently.

Will Matty be okay? I asked it.

Better not tell you now, it answered.

I put it down and grabbed Gator from the pillows and hugged him close, burying my face into his head. The tears came silent and slow, and I rolled onto my side, my knees going to my chest as I squeezed the god-damn stuffed alligator tight. Even a Magic 8 ball was giving me negative answers. I felt like I should be working harder to somehow prepare for what was coming at me at the speed of light, for what I was being warned about from every angle. But how do you prepare yourself for something like losing your kid?

You don't.

Chapter Thirteen / 2013


Abbey

I fell asleep at some point, laying on Matty's bed, clutching Gator to my chest, and I was awoken by my phone vibrating at my hip in my pocket. I scrambled for it, panic coursing through my veins, my eyes darting to the window to confirm it was only just the break of dawn. "Hello, hello?" I bumbled over my words, heart racing, my hand shaking. Calls at the break of dawn, calls in the middle of the night, calls at times that were not normal times -- these calls were one of my greatest fears.

"Abbey? It's Monica Potter."

Calls from Monica Potter at the break of dawn or the middle of the night were even worse. These kinds of calls made my heart stop altogether.

"Is he okay?"

"He is now, but I need you to come in as soon as possible."

"I'm on my way."

I hung up, and, still clutching Gator mindlessly, I rushed out of Matty's bedroom, leaving the light on and everything as I fled down the hall, kicked my feet into my shoes and snatched my purse and keys from the table by the door. I felt like a crazy person as I rode the I-40 westbound to the Vandy district, my knuckles white from clasping the wheel so tightly. I parked and ran across the parking lot, a woman with a four foot stuffed alligator in her arms. Inside, the receptionist desk wasn't even occupied yet - that's how early it was. And Phil was absent from the elevators, probably still asleep in his room on whatever floor he was actually supposed to be on. The doors parted on Matty's floor and I ran down the hallway, Gator's tail wagging behind me, straight to Matty's room.

As I rounded the curtain, my heart in my throat, I found him laying there peacefully asleep, but his hospital gown open, his little chest on display, new monitor sensors stuck all over it, a machine beeping loudly beside him. I stared at it for a moment, trying to regain my bearings, watching the green line tracing his heart beats on the gray screen.

I dropped Gator onto the foot of his bed shakily and turned back to the hallway, fighting tears of relief and fear simultaneously as I clutched my sweater around me and hunted for Monica Potter. When I found her, she was leaning against the nurse's station, writing something in a giant binder.

"What the hell happened?" I demanded. My voice fought not to break as I spoke the words.

Monica closed the binder after finishing what she'd been writing and turned to me. "There was a slight incident, but he's stabilized now," she said slowly.

"What kind of incident?" I asked, voice definitely breaking this time.

Monica took a deep breath, "His blood pressure increased to dangerous levels and his heart --" she paused, searching for the words she wanted to use, " -- paused."

"Oh my God." I covered my mouth.

"It was only for a moment. We got him going again right away." Monica put her hand on my shoulder. "He's okay. Do you hear me?"

I was squeezing my eyes shut, tears pouring down my face. "Oh my God," I murmured.

Monica pulled me into a hug. "He's okay, Abbey."

I pulled away from the hug after a moment, fanning my face. The air felt cold on my skin where the tears had been. I took a shuddering breath. "What if he -- I was just -- I would've slept through -- oh God."

"Abbey. It's okay."

"I can't believe I left him here alone and he could've --"

"Abbey." Monica's voice was firm, "You can't be here all the time. You have to work, you have to sleep."

"I can sleep here," I argued. "I could've been here if I'd come here after work, I could've been there for him. I could've held his hand."

Monica was looking at me with sad eyes.

"I need to go be with him," I stammered, and I turned and walked back to Matty's room. He was still asleep when I got there, and I lowered myself into the chair in the corner of the room, hugging my knees to my chest. The alarm clock glowed with it's neon red letters in the darkness, and the green line cut across the gray screen, casting it's color around the room, across Matty's face as he slept peacefully.

I stared at him for several long moments.

Then I dialed Nick's number.

"Mmm?"

"Nick?" I was whispering. "Nick, it's Abbey."

"Abbey?" He sounded instantly more awake. "Hey, what's the matter?"

"Hey... Matty's --"

"Is he okay?" A tone of panic filled Nick's voice and even though panic isn't a good thing, it felt good that he felt it. Because it meant he cared.

"Yeah he's okay. He had an incident tonight, I just -- I needed someone to talk to."

Nick was quiet a long moment. "Where are you?"

"The hospital. I don't think I'm ever going to leave it again."

"I'll be there in a few minutes. Gimme like fifteen." He hung up the phone.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and I sat there in the dark, staring at the monitor, letting it remind me over and over and over and over again that Matty was okay.




Nick

When I walked in the room, Abbey looked small. She wasn't the kind of person that normally seemed small. She was a mother, and all that entails to go along with it was built in. She always seemed on the verge of charging to protect her young, like a bear or a bull moose. This was the first time that she'd really looked weakened and it was a terrible sight. Her hair was a mess, her eyes all puffy and red, her cheeks stained with tears, folded into a chair in the corner of the room, asleep in the chair, clutching a stuffed alligator.

I stood just at the corner of the curtain and glanced between her and Matty in the bed. His eye lashes were fluttering slightly, like he was about to wake up. I hesitated and slowly made my way around the big heart monitor at his side and sat down in the chair Abbey usually occupied. Matty's eyes flickered open slowly and struggled to focus on me for a moment. I slid my hand up and took his hand.

He stared up at me. "Hi," he croaked. His throat sounded raw and he put a hand on it, wincing.

"Hey," I whispered. "You okay?"

He blinked a couple times, thinking, then he nodded slowly.

"Your mom called me," I whispered, "She said you had some troubles during the night. She's over there in the corner, I think she's asleep."

Matty tilted his head to look. "She has Gator," he croaked.

"Gator's pretty cool, buddy," I said.

"He's my favorite," he said.

"I can see why," I answered. I paused and took a deep breath, "So... new gizmos, huh?" I waved at the monitor.

"Yeah," he answered.

I nodded. "What happened?"

Matty took a shaky, shallow breath at sounded like it was probably intended to be a deep one, but he'd run out of lung capacity to hold a whole deep breath. He winced again. Then he replied slowly, "I think my heart stopped working for a minute."

"Were you scared?" I asked.

He shook his head no.

"I would've been scared," I said.

"Eventually it'll stop working," he explained, "And it won't get fixed. Then I'll be scared." He paused. "I think Dr. Monica thinks that's gonna happen soon."

I swallowed. I didn't know how much about his condition he knew. I glanced at Abbey.

"Mom thinks it, too," he said, "And the nurses." He paused, staring up into my eyes. "And you."

"What do you think?" I asked because I didn't know what else to say.

Matty shrugged. "Maybe."

"You can't think that," I said, shaking my head. "Why do you think nobody tells you about what they think?"

"Because I'm a kid."

"And because it's documented like a billion times a trillion-million that when people who are sick don't know they're sick they feel better then when they know," I said. "Sometimes thinking you're sick is worse then really being sick because you stop trying to be better."

Matty nodded slowly. "I'm kind of tired of trying to be better, though," he replied. "Do you ever feel like that?"

I had. Many times. During tours, when I was in my drunken-drugged stupors and I had to do meet and greets and concerts and fan events and interviews I struggled everyday to make myself seem better than I was. I fought and fought and fought to keep my sickness a secret form everyone, refusing to admit that I had a problem. And finally, one day, I'd become sick of trying to be better.

I knew exactly what he was feeling.

"I'm sorry you have to feel like that," I said quietly.

Matty swiped away tears from his eyes. "It wouldn't be so bad," he said, "If I wasn't worried about my mom."

"Worried about your mom?"

He nodded. "Whenever I have a trouble like tonight, when she knows I'm okay, she hugs me and she says stuff like what would I do without you? And I'm scared because I don't know the answer to tell her so she knows what she does without me."

The words were deep - too deep for a six and a half year old to ever have to think about - and yet...

"She'll be brave," I said.

He looked at me searchingly.

"She'll be brave because you taught her how to be."

He squeezed my hand tight.

Chapter Fourteen / 2013


Nick

When Abbey woke up, I didn't bother mentioning Thanksgiving. There was no way Matthew was going to be out of the hospital by Thursday and I knew she wasn't about to leave his side to come eat dinner. So I spent a couple hours playing a few rounds of Battleship and watched Myth Busters with Matthew while Abbey went and took a shower down the hall. When she came back I announced that I had to get going and she thanked me for coming to the hospital on short notice like that and hugged me. Her hair smelled like coconuts. I patted her back and said bye and left.

At home, Lauren was up and had gotten the note I left her about where I was headed. She'd set herself busy working on wedding plans and she was sitting at the table all bundled up in one of my sweatshirts, drinking coffee and flipping through a wedding book with a legal pad covered with scribbled notes.

I sidled up behind her and rested my chin on her shoulder, kissing her cheek. "Morning," I said to her.

"It's afternoon," she replied, reaching up and running her fingers through my hair.

"Afternoon," I amended. I sat down next to her. The magazine page was covered with various flower arrangements. They were all white with other colors mixed in, a long list of "trending wedding floral" ran down the side of the page. I didn't know wedding floral could trend. I looked up at her face. She looked like she was studying, a deep line of concentration on her face.

She looked up, "Oh. Brian called."

"What?"

"Brian called."

I blinked in surprise. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, but I didn't have any missed calls. "Why didn't he call my cell phone? Did he call the house phone?"

"He called me," Lauren replied. She pushed the magazine away. "He said Kevin called him and told him that you had some stuff going on and was trying to get him to call you, so he called me to see what was going on. I told him he had to call you and talk to you about it."

I squirmed in my seat. I wasn't sure if I was pissed at Kevin for tipping Brian off or pissed Brian needed to be tipped off or pissed he called Lauren first or amazed that he called at all. All the emotions swirled around in me at once.

Lauren lowered the black rimmed reading glasses she wears sometimes and stared at me over the top of them. I thought I was about to hear one of the Classic Kitt Motivational Pep Talks. She and her father both were keen to giving these long rambling speeches about reaching goals and achieving zen and blah-de-blah. I readied myself. But instead, she simply said, "You should call him." She pushed her glasses back up her nose, grabbed the magazine, and turned back to her work at pricking trendy flowers.

"What? No speech?" I asked.

"There's really nothing else to say," she said, staring at the magazine pages. "He's your best friend --"

"Was my best friend. He doesn't even like admitting he's my friend at all anymore," I said. "I swear, if I wasn't for Backstreet Boys, Brian would've cut ties with me completely years ago."

"Once someone is your best friend they are always your best friend," Lauren replied, "It's just a matter of reconnecting with that part of their heart. Most people just don't wanna put in the work to make it happen, or only one of the two parties do and it's a two-way thing." She looked up at me. "And I think you and Brian are worth the work that takes."

I sighed.

"Go call him."

"Okay. I'll be downstairs."

I locked myself away in my basement studio to call him because it felt more private there and somehow calling Brian felt like something sacred and personal and like I should keep it just between me and him. I sat in the office chair in front of my soundboard for a few minutes before dialing, spinning revolutions, staring up at the ceiling, trying to think of a way out of calling Brian, but I couldn't come up with anything. So I took a deep breath and I dialed.

It took quite a few rings before he answered. In fact, I'd been just about to hang up. "Hey," he said. His voice was weird, almost nervous or something.

"Hey," I replied. I think my voice was weird, too.

"How are you?"

"I'm -- nervous as hell... to be calling you..." I admitted because above all else that I'd learned in the last few years with Lauren it was that honesty is important and that saying what we are feeling instead of okay or fine or aight was important to connecting.

Jesus, I sound like a fucking therapist in my head sometimes.

"Nervous?" Brian said, surprised, "To call me?"

"You were nervous to answer," I replied.

"Yeah well." Brian paused. "You can't blame me, really, can you? I mean, after what happened last time I was told that something was wrong and you needed me..." He was referring to that night on the Unbreakable tour.

My palms were sweaty and I wiped them on the chest of my t-shirt.

Ten or fifteen years ago, if you'd told me that I'd ever have this awkward of a conversation with Brian on the telephone, I would've thought you were insane. A lump rose in my throat. The idea that talking to Brian could ever be hard was preposterous. Not to Brian. Brian was the one person in my life back then that I could say anything to because I knew, then, that he would be there no matter what.

But now... well.

"I didn't mean what I said that night. Or any other time I mighta said stuff that was bad to you." I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck, staring down at the pattern of the carpet fibers below. "You were just trying to help me... but I was so far gone... I didn't want help, I didn't... I didn't think I deserved help."

Brian was quiet for a long moment. I waited, listening to him breathing on the other end of the line. Then he said, "What's going on Nick? Kev made it sound like it was imperative I call you." Something about his tone told me that he didn't believe me or didn't accept what I had to say about the fight we'd had. This conversation was going to be more out of obligation than desire to help, more because Kevin told him to than because he wanted to know what was wrong with me... something he wanted to do just to get it over with.

"It's nothing," I lied. Brian was quiet again. But this time I could feel him waiting. Like he knew if he was quiet long enough, the silence would press me like an orange in a juicer. I finally said, "Do you know Monica Potter at Vanderbilt? She's a cardiologist. Works with kids."

"Monica Potter?" Surprise permeated Brian's voice again. "Why do you want to know about a cardiologist?" Slight worry edged into his tone.

"You know the Christmas Miracle kid I went to see?" I asked.

"Um... not really, no. I think I heard AJ say Eddie had asked you to do that but I didn't really hear anything about it, no."

"Well. Yeah. I had this kid I had to go see, he wrote an essay, got picked for this special they're doing. It's like Make a Wish kinda. Anyways I went to go see this kid, Matthew Steele, and he's got the vertical special disease thing you had."

"Ventricle Septal Defect?" Brian asked, correcting me.

"Yeah, that," I said with a sigh. And then, without even thinking about it, the words flowed from my mouth, "Jesus, I'm a terrible father, I don't even know what my kid has."

I realized what I'd said as soon as it was out of my mouth and it was too late to take it back. The words hung in the air all heavy-like.

"Your kid?"

My mouth was dry. "He's -- he's mine," I stammered.

Full silence.

I couldn't even hear him breathing.

"Brian?" I asked after a moment.

"I'll call you back, Nick," he said and he hung up before I could speak another word.




Abbey

It'd been a little less than a week since I'd told Nick about Matty and so far he'd managed to not pull the parachute I'd provided him with. He was showing up everyday and playing board games for hours and watching Myth Busters so I could sleep without the guilt trip Matty usually sent me on when I zonked out. And Matty was getting more and more infatuated with Nick with every passing day, his eyes would light up when Nick walked in the room and he never failed to have a smile for him. It was good to see Matty as happy as Nick's visits made him.

The day before Thanksgiving, two days after Matty's overnight incident, Nick had spent the day sitting with us in the hospital, playing and watching the show as usual, but something seemed off. So when he got up and said he had to get going, I followed him out into the hallway.

"Nick," I said, stopping him before he could get as far as the elevator. "Can I talk to you a second?"

"Yeah, sure," he answered.

I pulled him into a quiet waiting room off to one side that was unoccupied. A tall shelf covered with children's books and toys that had been donated to the hospital loomed to one side and a mural of a train coming over a mountain top with a grinning giraffe conductor was on the other. I closed the door. "Is everything okay? You look really tired or something."

He sighed, "It's been a long week."

"Yeah," I nodded. I tried to imagine what everything with Matty must look like from his angle - just finding out about the existence of a kid at the same time as finding out that kid had a life-threatening defect... It had to be rough. "You've still got... your out... if you need it," I mumbled, afraid he might take it.

Nick's eyes lit up with offense, "I don't need an out," he said hotly, "I'm not that kind of guy." Pause. "Anymore." He sighed and dropped into a couch and covered his eyes. "Jesus, I must've been a terrible person."

I sat down next to him, "You aren't a terrible person."

"I might not be anymore, but I obviously was," he replied.

"We all make mistakes," I answered. "I wasn't the best person once upon a time, either."

Nick looked over at me and I could see the regret in his blue eyes, like looking into the very heart of him. "I made a colossal amount of them," he said thickly, "I can't help but look at you and Matthew and see what I could've had if I'd been sober then. I would've been such a better person --" He looked away. "Instead, I chose my addictions and they betrayed me and I was left with a handful of broken dreams and missed opportunities and wasted years. I've changed, I've worked really hard to become a better person, and to grow from where I was into who I am now, but it hasn't been easy." He shook his head, "And the people I need the most are the ones I hurt the worst."

"That's usually the way it is," I said.

"I told Brian about Matty," Nick said quietly. He was studying his hands, turning them over, wringing his fingers. "I thought he might be able to - to help somehow. But of all the people I've hurt over the years, Brian was the one I hurt the worst."

I ran my hand over his back, "You two have always been friends, though, haven't you? I'm sure he'll forgive you."

"He hasn't for six years," Nick said. "He was so weirded out by the news he basically hung up on me last night." Nick sighed, heavy and low. "I just wish I could say I'm sorry sincerely enough that he would hear me and maybe things would go back to the way they were meant to be."

I didn't know what I could possibly say to make it better. There wasn't anything. So I just gave him a hug, and he let me hold him for a few moments, resting his head against my chest. He sniffled and I ran my palm against his spine. We stayed like that for probably five minutes before he regained himself and he shrugged me away, getting to his feet. "I gotta go home," he mumbled, "Thanks for listening to me." He paused, "We're having Thanksgiving -- at my place..." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a post-it note with an address. "I meant to give this to you before. I forgot 'til just now. I know you probably can't but -- if you want to..." He thrust the note in my direction.

I took it. "Thanks," I said. But I knew I wouldn't leave Matty long enough to go there. I tucked the note into my pocket.

He nodded and he left.

I walked back to the bedroom. Matty looked up. "Nick leave?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Think he'll come tomorrow?"

"I don't know... I don't think so, though, sweetie, it's Thanksgiving. He's probably going to be with his family." I sat down next to Matty and leaned back, Nick's words still blending around in my mind. I felt so bad for him.

"Too bad Nick wasn't our family," Matty said.

I looked over at him. "Yeah," I said slowly.

"That'd be really cool if he was," Matty added.

"Yeah," I said slowly, biting my lower lip to keep from saying more.

Chapter Fifteen / 2013


Abbey

Thanksgiving has long been one of the holidays that I don't really celebrate - lumped in with Valentine's Day and my Birthday. The reason being that I don't have any family left besides Matty, I'm a terrible cook, and four out of six of Matty's Thanksgivings have been spent in a hospital bed. The other two we sat in front of the TV set at home with a rotisserie chicken and instant potato and watched A Charlie Brown Christmas over and over again while playing Parcheesi.

It never occurred to me that this lack of tradition on Turkey Day might bother Matty until Thanksgiving Day, during the Macy's parade telecast, when Matty turned to me and asked, "Next year, can we have a turkey for Thanksgiving?"

And in that instant it occurred to me what an incredibly shitty parent I'd been. Here I was, sitting in a hospital room, holding the hand of my dying six and a half year old son, and he'd never had a Thanksgiving turkey. My heart seared in my chest and I closed my eyes, trying to keep from just bursting into tears on the spot. "Yes, if you want to, of course," I croaked.

"And the Stove Top, too?" he asked, "Like in the commercials?"

Even more guilt splashed over me. "Yes."

Matty smiled, "Maybe we could have Nick come, too," he suggested, snuggling into the pillows and staring up at the parade with a contented smile, as though just dreaming of the future Thanksgivings made this one all the better.

I felt like I'd been rolled around in a pile of guilt like batter. How many other important things had Matty never done and would never get to do because of my thoughtlessness or my fears? He'd never ridden a bicycle, never been on an airplane, or gone camping, or been in a club, or a public school for that matter. I suddenly felt like I was drowning. I needed air. I leaped to my feet. "I'll be right back."

"You'll miss the big Pikachu," he warned.

"You can tell me all about it," I answered, and I bolted from the room.

I ended up out on the quad that Nick and I had gone to that first day, where he'd first done the math and figured out about Matty. I sat on the bench and I breathed in the frigid cold air. The weathermen were calling for snow that evening and I could smell it in the air. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself.

What if he did die? I wondered. What would I do then? I tried to picture my life without Matty in it as calmly as I could, tried to search myself beyond the grief that I was certain would overwhelm me, to a time when I'd healed and I was able to live again. I pictured myself getting a better job, maybe even going back to school, maybe living abroad for a couple years, like I'd always dreamed...

And I suddenly realized that I was picturing myself doing all of these things with Nick.

I shook myself out of the thoughts and shivered. Overhead, some birds were settling into the trees, trying to hide from the wind that whistled over the top of the hospital. I shoved my hands in my pockets and that's when I noticed my phone vibrating. I pulled it out and there was Nick's goofy selfie, the one he'd taken seven years ago.

"Hello," I said, my voice shaky.

"Hey," Nick said, a smile in his tone. "Happy Thanksgiving. How's you and Matty?" he asked.

I stared at my feet. "We're okay," I replied.

"You don't sound okay."

"I'm having a mini-melt down, but it's okay."

Nick's tone was so soothing as he asked, "What's the matter?"

I tried to stop myself. My cries stopped in my throat and I felt my face warp and twist and I held my breath for a second, trying to remember how to breath smoothly, without trembling, but I couldn't and I choked out a sob, and once the first one was out, the rest came easily. I felt so stupid, sitting on the bench in the back of the almost desolate cafeteria, sobbing like a crazy person. I knew I wasn't the first person to cry out here, nor would I be the last, but I still felt funny doing it. "There's so many things he's never gonna get to do," I sobbed, "And I've been such a terrible mom because he hasn't even had the basics like - like a fucking Thanksgiving turkey. What kind of mom lets her kid die without having Thanksgiving turkey?" I couldn't breathe. My chest felt like something had been wrapped around it real tight and restrictive-like.

"He's never had a Thanksgiving turkey?" Nick repeated in surprise. "Never? In his whole life?"

"Never!" I wailed. "He's never rode a bike or gone camping or to a football game or played catch or owned a dog or been on a plane or memorized the multiplication tables. Nick, he's never gonna learn how to drive or get his first job or go to college and meet a girl and get married or give me grandbabies or --" I lost control completely.

"Hey -- hey -- hey... shhh.. Shhh, it's okay," Nick said. "Shhh. It's gonna be okay. There's still time. You don't know he won't do that stuff. He could do all of that, you never know. Don't go givin' up on him just cos of what some doctor says. He's bigger than that. He's bigger than this heart thing. He could wake up tomorrow with the opportunity for a new heart, Abbey. Don't you give up on him."

"I'm just so scared Nick," I croaked, "I'm scared all of the time."

"It's okay to be scared, you'd be nuts not to be, but you gotta head that scared off with belief it's gonna be okay."

"I'm trying," I whispered. "But why's it gotta be so hard?"

"Cos life ain't easy, but the best stuff comes from the stuff that's the hardest to do," he answered. "You got this. He's got this. You just gotta hold up and believe it until it happens."




Nick

When I hung up with Abbey, I walked into the kitchen door way and stood there, holding my phone, watching as Lauren stirred gravy with a whisk. She was covered with food, a really old cookbook open on the counter beside her, which she kept glancing at through her reading glasses. I stood there several moments, just turning my phone over and over in my palm.

"Laur?" I said.

She looked up, nudging the glasses up with the back of her wrist, getting flour on her cheek.

I walked over and I took her face in my hand and gently wiped away the flour. "Nick, you're messing up the gravy mixing," she said. But I didn't care, I kissed her anyways because she looked gorgeous all flour-covered and Betty Crocker-ish. "Mm," she gave in, and melted into me, dropping the whisk into the pan with a clatter and wrapping her arms around my neck.

When we pulled back, I said to her, "How would you feel about Thanksgiving to go?"

Lauren stared up at me. "Come again?"

"What if... when it's all ready... instead of putting it all on the table and sitting there and eating it all, what if we put it all in tinfoil and stuff and bring it over to the hospital to Abbey and Matty and we all have Thanksgiving together there?"

She stared at me in disbelief. "What? Nick, are you crazy? Would they even allow that?"

I shrugged, "Only one way to find out, right? I just -- I can't help but think of the two of them over there, all alone for the holiday, and... I just called Abbey and wished her Happy Thanksgiving and she had this little meltdown in my ear about Matty and the experiences he's never gonna have..." I took a deep breath, "Laur, he's never had a real Thanksgiving turkey."

I saw the flicker of shock in her eyes at that. "Never?"

"Never."

Lauren sighed and turned back to the gravy, fishing the wisk out of the pan.

"Well?"

She sighed again. "Get the tupperware out... And you're responsible for figuring out how to transport this damn turkey of yours. You had to get a big one..."

I kissed her cheek again, excitedly, and rushed to the cupboard to get the tupperware.

Two hours later, I stepped into Matthew's room slowly. "Knock, knock," I called.

"Nick?!" Matthew's voice carried around the curtain that afforded him and Abbey privacy. As I stepped around the curtain, Abbey looked up in surprise from the chair as Matthew eagerly held up his hands for a hug. I smiled and went over, hugging him carefully because of all the little sensor thingies he had all over the place. "Happy Thanksgibbin'," he said, his face smooshed into my shoulder.

"Happy Thanksgiving, buddy," I answered. I let go and I said, "Lauren and I have a surprise." I ducked back out of the room and helped Lauren drag in the two rolling trays we'd hijacked from an empty room down the hall, and I hauled in the big cooler full of food. Lauren pulled a table cloth out of a bag and I started unpacking the tupperware containers one by one.

Matthew's eyes were round as could be.

So were Abbey's.

"What's all this?" she stammered, breathless.

"A real Thanksgiving Turkey," I answered, unpacking the carefully tinfoiled bird and putting it on the make-shift dinner table.

"Oh wow," Matthew gasped, his hands on his cheeks like the Home Alone kid in shock, "Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow," he repeated.

Abbey's jaw was dropped.

Lauren pulled a package of paper plates with turkeys on them out of her bag of tricks and a couple chocolate turkeys, too. When we'd finished unpacking it all and putting it out on the two tray tables we'd pushed together with Matty's own to create one big table, it actually kind of looked like a real live Thanksgiving feast with all the fixin's. Matty's face was red with excitement and Abbey's was pale with disbelief.

Abbey started crying silently, tears just rolling down her face.

Matty looked around between the three of us standing around him and the food on the tables, a big grin on his face. "This is so cool," he said thickly, "Like the coolest ever, huh Mom?"

Abbey nodded. "Absolutely," she said. "The coolest ever." She looked up at me, "And in the spirit of the day, I am so very thankful for everything you've done for us, Nick."

"I'm just thankful I didn't drop the turkey on the way here," I laughed.

Chapter Sixteen / 2013


Nick

That night, when we got home from Vanderbilt and the Thanksgiving feast with Matthew and Abbey, Lauren gave me a sly side-hug. "If you give me, like, five minutes and come upstairs, you can have your special dessert," she said in a husky voice, and she leaned in and gave me a deeply passionate kiss, lingering just enough to lead my mind exactly where she wanted it to go.

"Mmm, why five minutes?" I mumbled into her mouth as she started to pull away.

"That's how long it's gonna take me to get sexy...and for you to put away the leftovers," she answered reasonably, and she went upstairs with a wink back at me and disappeared.

I hauled ass to the kitchen, dragging the cooler behind me, the tupperware containers all clunkin' around in there. I started shoving them into the fridge two at a time in stacks on the bottom shelf. I was about a third of the way through when my phone vibed in my back pocket and, assuming it was Lauren, I didn't even look before I answered it. "Yes?" I asked.

"Nick? Hey it's me, Brian."

I almost dropped the turkey.

"Bri," I said, just catching the tinfoiled half-bird and shoving it into the fridge. "Hey."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Frack," he said thickly. His voice was heavy and smooth, like he'd been trying to get the guts up to say those words all day. Each syllable tugged on my heart strings because I knew there was a lot more to that Frack than just a Thanksgiving wish.

"Happy Thanksgivin', Frick," I replied.

He took a deep breath, "Look, Nick, I'm sorry I hung up the other day. I just was really freaked out by what you told me. It was big news. And I felt guilty for not being there for you when you needed me, when you first found out."

"Don't, Bri, because you're here and I've only known like a week," I said.

"A week's a long time to go without anyone to talk to about it," Brian replied.

"Yeah," I said.

There was a long pause. "Look, I know we've had a lot of issues over the past couple years, but I think that the friendship between you and I is ---"

"-- worth the work it takes?" I supplemented.

I could hear the smile in his voice, "Yeah," he replied. We were both silent for a moment, contemplating this, then Brian said, with a chuckle to his tone, "I guess this is that awkward moment where, if we were in the same room, we'd like give each other a hug that lasted just a little too long, then split apart and start talking about, like, football or something to make us feel manly again."

"I'd rather not talk about football right now, the Buccs are fucking embarrassing the hell out of me this year," I said, then I amended, "Well no, not the Buccs themselves... It's fucking Schiano. That guy needs to have a seat."

Brian laughed, "Some things never change, I guess." When his laughter tapered off he said, "You certainly have though, overall. I know I haven't told you this yet, but I'm damn proud of how far you've come, Nick. You've grown a lot and I don't think anyone gives you enough credit for the things you've been through to get here. I know I certainly haven't." I stared down at the tupperware in my hand, my throat knotting up. "I mean, ten years ago if you'd been told you had a kid, sick or not, you would've run to the hills and changed your name to Amos."

"No I wouldn't've," I argued. "Amos is a terrible name. I'm way too egotistical to give myself such a terrible name. I'd have been like Clark or Bruce or something."

"Would you have had a spandex-clad alterego who protects the good citizens, too?" Brian teased.

"Of course, but only you wouldda known about it, Alfred."

Brian laughed, "Anyways..." he said after a couple moments, "The reason I called. Nick, I called up Dr. Gordon Danielson, the cardiologist who repaired my VSD in 1998 up at the Mayo Clinic. He happens to be on his way to Vanderbilt to be a guest lecturer this week and he's going to stop by and look at Matthew's charts and see if there's anything he can do to help out."

"Are you serious?" I asked, excitement accelerating through me. "Brian, you're incredible. I'm so happy."

"I can't guarantee he'll be able to do much of anything, but he can look and we'll see what happens," Brian said.

"Thank you," I said. "Thank you so much, Brian, this means so much to me, man."

"No problem," Brian replied. "I'm going to drive up there, probably Monday, and I'll stop by with Dr. Danielson if that's okay with you?"

I shoved the last of the tupperware into the fridge, "Yes. Yes, that'd be awesome. You're welcome to stay at mine and Lauren's house. We'd love to have ya here."

"I may just take you up on that," Brian said. "Thank you."

"Anything, man," I answered.

Then from upstairs came Lauren's voice, drafting down the stairwell, "Nick... your dessert's getting cold and if you don't get your ass up here soon it's going to crawl under the blankets and fall asleep!"

"Coming!" I yelped. I turned back to the phone as I kicked the cooler out of the way and closed the fridge door. "Thank you again, Brian, this has been the most amazing Thanksgiving ever. What you've done means the world to me, Frick."

"You're absolutely welcome," Brian replied. "I'll talk to ya soon. Or see you Monday. Whatever comes first. Night. Tell Lauren Happy Thanksgiving for me."

"I will. Night Brian."

We hung up and I ran up the stairs, supercharged with energy, taking the steps two at a time. I plowed into the bedroom to find Lauren laying on the bed in a sexy-sexy pose, wearing a nearly sheer brown nighty thing that I couldn't wait to peel off her body with my teeth.

"Hey sexy," she cooed, "C'mere."

I crawled onto the bed, leaning over her and grinning down into her eyes eagerly.

We spent the rest of the night making love.

I had no idea it'd be the last time we'd have sex or else I would've made it even more special, lingered even longer, and allowed the cuddling to last the entire night... but how was I supposed to know?




Abbey

The morning following Thanksgiving, I'd walked down the hallway to take a shower, and I was on my way back when I ran into Phil by the nurse's station. I was carrying the bag of my shampoo and body wash and razors and all that when he stopped me, leaning on his walker with one hand to wave his other one in front of me to come over. "Morning, Phil," I said, smiling happily.

"I want you to thank your gentleman caller for me," Phil said.

"My gentleman caller?" I asked, laughing, "You mean Nick?"

Phil held his hand up over his head, "'Bout this high, blonde hair, blue eyes."

"That'd be Nick," I said, "What'd he do you want to thank him for, Phil?" I asked warily. Phil had a very sarcastic sense of humor I'd learned. He was a regular resident at Vandy - always had something wrong with him. He'd been in for several months at this point over his hip because every time they tried to send him home he found a reason to stay. He wandered around the hospital floors like a regular fixture or a mall walker now at this point, usually showing up at the least convenient times. I couldn't imagine what he could possibly have to say to Nick.

"He stopped by yesterday with a plate of Thanksgiving," Phil answered, "And I was mighty glad to have some company, even if it was just a little while he was there." He smiled, "I ain't had nobody been that nice before as to bring me a Thanksgiving plate. And that crap they tried to give me from the cafeteria downstairs does not count," he added.

"Nick did that?" I asked in surprise, and I wondered when he stopped by there, considering he'd been up in Matty's room most of the afternoon.

"Yes, yes he did. Mighty nice of him. He seems like a real gentleman. A real keeper."

"He does," I answered.

"So what the hell did you dump him for?" Phil demanded.

I laughed, "Dump him? I didn't dump him. We were never together."

"Well ain't he Matthew's father?" Phil asked.

The blood in my veins ran cold. I glanced at Matty's door, not all that far from us. I knew from experience it was easy to listen in on stuff being said out in the hallway, and I felt suddenly self-conscious. I wondered if Matty was listening. This was not how I wanted him to find out about Nick.

I laughed. "What - what makes you think that?" I stammered.

"Looks exactly like him, don't he?" Phil answered.

"Every little boy with blue eyes and blonde hair belong to Nick?" I teased, my voice shaking. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the door of Matty's room, like I expected to see his ears poking out if he was listening.

Phil raised his big, bushy eyebrows. "Ain't so much the hair and eye color," he replied, "S'much as it's the shape of the face, and them dimples." He drew the lines on his face around his mouth. "They got'em in just the same places, haven't they?"

I leaned close to him, "Matty doesn't know," I whispered, "Okay? And I'd rather he not find out in a session of eavesdropping in the hallway," I added. "So shut it, old man."

A twinkle danced in Phil's eyes. "Well just you tell him thank you... and I recommend if you ain't been a thing, that you think about becoming one. That's a keeper, he is, a keeper indeed..." and Phil waddled off down the hallway.

I stared after him, my eyes narrowed. Then I took a deep breath, prayed Matty heard none of it, and headed into the room. But it was silly of me to worry because Matty was fast asleep, hugging Gator, his crayons spread all over the rolling tray table. I put away my toiletries and slid the renegade crayons into a pencil case, snapping it shut and picking up the drawing Matty was working on. It was a picture of a giant turkey and a little turkey and he'd labelled them "Nick" and "Me" and wrote a little thank you note to Nick at the bottom.

Chapter Seventeen / 2013


Abbey

That night was the first time I dreamed of Nick.

I woke up in the chair sweaty and breathing heavy, blinking into the dark, my heart pounding. In my dream, Nick and I had been tangled up, limb to limb, our bodies wrapped around one another like vines. His mouth had been on mine and his hand sliding slowly down my back, pulling me closer, my breasts pressed against his bare chest, his pelvis pressed to mine.... It was entirely unfair I had to go and wake up when I did.

It'd been years since I'd dreamed of Nick this way. Once upon a time, just after our fateful first encounter in that bar on Halloween, I'd dreamed of him for months, practically shaking from withdrawals like an addict. But I'd forced myself to move on, to let go of the wonder that I'd discovered that night, and go back to life as-close-to-normal-as-is-to-be-expected after one has the perfect night with the perfect man and never hears from him again.

I regained my composure, closing my eyes and trying to get back to sleep but every time I started to slip off to my dreams, I could feel him and I'd wake up again, half expecting him to really be there.

In the time that Nick had been back in my life, I'd managed to keep it strictly platonic. This relationship between us was about Matty, not about me and Nick. He was engaged, very happily, to a beautiful woman whose deep brown eyes and narrow waistline were things I couldn't even begin to compete with. And besides, I legitimately liked Lauren. Both times that I'd met her she'd been friendly and outgoing and all smiles. The me and Nick thing? Not gonna happen... and I'd known that from day one.

But try telling my subconscious that.

"You look sleepy," Matty commented when he woke up as he stretched out his arms and yawned.

"I didn't really sleep too well," I replied.

"Why not?" he asked, looking concerned.

I shrugged and leaned forward to take his hand, "How about you? Did you sleep good?" He nodded. "Any good dreams?" I asked. He shrugged. "Not telling me stuff anymore?" I teased.

"You know how it goes, mom," Matty said, "You can't tell stuff you want to have happen or it doesn't happen." He shook his head like I was crazy for thinking anything else.

Monica came in the room for his morning vitals before I could say much else. She came the same time every morning, and Matty always woke up, like clockwork, just before she did. "Good morning," she chimed as she stepped up to his side, sliding her stethoscope off her neck, "How are we this morning?"

"Mom's tired," Matty announced as he scooted forward for Monica to get to his back. She blew on the stethoscope and pressed it to his skin as she stuck the ear pieces in.

"Couldn't sleep, Abbey?"

"I'm okay," I replied.

Monica hummed and moved the stethoscope around, listening, then scribbled something down on her clipboard, and moved on to getting Matty's blood pressure. "So I heard you had an exciting Thanksgiving treat yesterday while I was gone," she said.

"Yeah!" Matty practically shouted, "Yeah! It was so cool, 'cos Mr. Nick came with a big cooler full of the turkey and we had dinner and it was just like on TV when they have all the food and the plates with the turkeys. And I drawed Nick a letter, see, look." Matty snatched the thank you letter he'd drawn off the table and waved it in Monica's direction.

Monica slid the BP cuff off Matty's arm and took the picture in her hands, studying it. "Oh wow, this is a great thank you letter. You did a really good job with it. Nick is going to love that."

Matty grinned.

Monica did a few more checks, scribbling results onto her clipboard, then she looked at me. "May I speak to you a few moments in my office?" she asked.

"Sure," I answered nervously. I stood up. "I'll be right back," I told Matty.

"Okay," he answered, but he was already turning on the TV set, so he barely noticed us leaving.

In the hallway, I looked at Monica, "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, dropped off Matty's charts at the nurse's station, and led the way back to her office. She waved at the chair, "Have a seat," she said, and she went around the desk and lowered herself into her own chair. She took a deep breath. "You need a break."

"What?"

"You're getting burnt out. I understand why you haven't left all week, but Abbey, you need a break. You look like crap and you haven't slept. You need to get out of here for a few hours and breathe and clear your head and get some sleep."

I blinked in surprise. "But what about Matty?" I said, "I can't just leave him here and --"

"He's doing great today. I'll keep a special eye on him today. You need to go recharge your batteries." Monica smiled ruefully, "It's important for Matty that you be on your game, so it's really for him that you need to do this for you. Do you understand?"

"I guess," I answered. But I didn't really. I felt like I was being kicked out.

"Call a friend, go Christmas shopping, get lunch. Walk around a park. I don't care what you do as long as you go do something and get at least eight hours' sleep afterwards before you come back." Monica winked, "Doctor's orders."

"Maybe tomorrow I could --"

"Today," Monica answered. "It's gorgeous outside, the weather is immaculate."

"Okay."

Monica stood up. "Go, have fun. Remember what it's like to be human." She smiled.

I stood up, too, but I wasn't really sure what I was going to do now. I thanked Monica and headed back up the hallway, waving hello to Phil as our paths crossed, and returned to Matty's room. He was watching some cartoon. I stood there for a few moments before he even noticed I was back. He smiled, "Hey."

"Hey." I took a deep breath, "So. I was thinking. I'm going to go see about getting you that five-star Christmas present."

He looked at me in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," I replied.

Matty stared at me for a long few moments.

"Then I'm going to take a quick nap and I'll be back. Okay?"

Matty nodded, "Sounds good."

I remember a time that every time I tried to leave a hospital room he freaked out and wouldn't let me leave without screaming so loud we could hear him clear down the hallway. I remember a time when he was scared to be alone in a hospital room. It was second nature to him now, after years of doing it.

I went over to the bed and gave him a big kiss on the forehead. "Be good today. If you need anything at all you call me. Even if you just miss me and want me to come back. Okay? Promise?" He nodded. "Okay." I gave him a hug and he wrapped his arms around my neck and hugged tight back. I could feel tears forming behind my eyes and lingered in the hug longer than usual. Parts of me were scared every time I let him out of a hug that it'd be the last time I felt those little arms around me and I hated to let it end for fear of wishing I could go back in the future.

The air was crisp outside, but Monica was right, overall it was a beautiful day. I breathed in the smell of the cold, kicking a bunch of dead autumn leaves that had gathered at the edge of the walk way. I'd stopped and gotten coffee on the way out from the cafe and it was warm in my hand. I was fishing the car keys out of my purse as I walked when I almost plowed into Nick.

"Hey, hey, look out," he laughed, just dodging me. "You almost poured coffee all over me," he accused with an amused smile.

"It wouldn't be the first time one of us poured liquid onto the other," I teased.

He looked confused.

"You dumped half a glass of liquor down my back the first time we met," I refreshed his memory. "You had to bring me off to get new clothes because you felt so bad and... that's how we ended up making Matty," I added with a slight blush.

Nick grimaced, "Oh Jesus, I used that move on you?" he asked.

"Move?"

Nick's face was one of partially amused shame, "So I was a tool when we first met, you know this about me..." he laughed, "I had all these... fantastic moves..."

I raised my eyebrow.

"I just wanted to get you out of the clothes you were in, basically," he said. "I did that a few times... It wasn't one of my more successful moves but..." His mouth curved into that signature grin of his, "Obviously it worked at least the once."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You said it was an accident."

"That's part of the move," he explained. "You dump the drink on the girl, by accident, then come off as a sincere gentleman when you offer to replace the clothes you just ruined. She's so indebted to you for your kindness that she sleeps with you."

I shook my head. "That, sir, is diabolical. And I can't believe I fell for it." I shook my head. "So you never really planned to call me."

"I don't remember meeting you," Nick said, "But I remember letting you walk away." He took a deep breath, "I really intended to call. I kept your number for seven years. My plan was to get sober, then call you when I was a better man, when I was good enough for you. Because what I remembered of you, I knew I wasn't good enough for. But, like a lot of things back then, I fucked up and I never was good enough."

The playful moment we'd started in had completely melted away into a moment of intensity. At some point between me almost walking into him and this moment, we'd moved closer, so I was staring up into his eyes, my heart beat clumping loudly inside of me. It felt like those moments in the movies - just before the two main characters spontaneously kiss. I could feel my breath shaking just thinking of something like that happening.

And I wanted it to. I wanted it to so bad.

But then Nick turned away.

I let out a low breath. I don't know if it was relief or disappointment I felt.




Nick

I'd been close to kissing her. Dangerously close. When I turned away, it'd taken every ounce of will power in my body to turn me. I hadn't realized I'd been feeling all the stuff that had come pouring up from some deep well in me. It'd been years since I'd seen her, and only one night that we'd had together, but the connection had been so deep that it'd lingered.

I couldn't remember the moves I'd made on her to get her there, but I could remember the way she'd looked under the parking lot lights at the Walmart, standing there, leaning against my car. I remembered the speech she gave - a version of which I'd delivered to the guys when I suggested we title our album Unbreakable. They were words that had stuck with me, motivating me through the worst times of my life, "Everything we perceive as being broken about a person is actually just another step in the process of them becoming who they were meant to be. If you think you're broken right now, just know that you're not... You are unbreakable."

I'd wanted to kiss her then - and I had - and just thinking about those words again, about that kiss in the parking lot again...

But I was engaged. I had Lauren. I wasn't the bachelor that I'd been back then, roaming through bars and clubs to pick up women. I wasn't able to just kiss people when I felt the swell of desire. I couldn't let that happen. Lauren was being so amazing about everything, I couldn't turn around and betray her like that for some whim that meant nothing.

So I turned away, just a fraction of a second before I would've leaned in for the kiss.

And just like that, the moment had gone to awkward.

We stood there in the cold, both of us looking different directions. She studied her coffee cup and I squinted off in the direction of the hospital doors, watching people walk in and out.

It didn't mean nothing, I thought to myself. If I had kissed Abbey just now, it would've meant something. But what?

I glanced at her. She was still staring down at the coffee cup lid, drawing patterns on it with her finger tip. I cleared my throat and she looked up, her eyes a little wider than usual. "Where ya headed?" I asked, and even as I asked the question something inside of me was yelling at me, telling me to just turn around and go inside and see the kid, like I'd told Lauren I was doing, like I'd intended to do.

"I was going to maybe go Christmas shopping," she answered.

"Would you like some company?" I asked.

Go the fuck inside, stupid! This can only lead you to trouble. Go inside!

"Sure," Abbey answered, "Company would be nice."

Chapter Eighteen / 2013


Nick

I've never been much of a shopper-person. My idea of "hanging out at the mall" has always been getting a smoothie and sitting around the food court ogling hotties on their way from the fancy designer stores with their itty bitty waists and overheated credit cards. Me and my buddies used to prowl through The Grove anytime we were feeling hard up for women from the clubs. Usually wearing shades to block out the overbearing sunlight that harshed our hung over eyes and hoodies that made us look bad ass and street.

Abbey hauled me to the Green Hills Mall, not too far south of Vanderbilt. After stopping in a Starbucks for fuel (because apparently the hospital coffee hadn't been enough for her), we started walking through the mall. The halls were so crowded we could barely move and more out of desperation to keep track of each other than anything else, we held hands. Her fingers felt slim in my grasp.

We did a couple laps just trying to stay afloat without getting trampled by the late shoppers before I pulled her into the middle of the hallway between two kiosks nobody was interested in. I looked at her. "What are we shopping for exactly?" I asked, "I don't even know what we're looking for."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a toy catalog. It was curled into a tight tube and rubber banded shut. "Matty marked up a catalog for us," she replied. "I don't know why we went to this mall. I just - I guess I was on auto-pilot. We really need a Toys R Us, I guess." She stared at the catalog. She looked up at me.

Something about the expression on her face told me she was about to cry. I looked around. This was so not the place to have a meltdown about anything serious - in the center of a frenzied post-Black Friday mall. "C'mon, there's a great Toys R Us down in Cool Springs by my place, we'll go there." I grabbed her hand again and she slid the catalog back into her purse and we waded back out through the crowds to the parking lot. It took us about ten minutes to cut through the fray and the smell of the Cheesecake Factory wafted along after us as we walked back to her car.

Once the doors were shut, Abbey just sat there staring at her hands on the wheel. I took a deep breath and watched cars circling like sharks, waiting for us to back out of the space so they could take it. I reached for the catalog, still sticking out of her bag. "What's he want anyways?" I asked.

"Does it matter?" she asked.

I looked over, unsure where she was going with this, then back down at the catalog page I'd opened to. He had circles and stars drawn on various things throughout.

"Do y'all do this every year?"

"Yeah," Abbey nodded. "I give him the catalog and a sharpie and he circles things he likes and stars on a 5-star system what he wants most to least and I do what I can... It's never been a lot, but I try to get a couple things for him. But this year... I don't know. I mean, Monica says he won't live past Christmas. So what's the point?"

I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I blocked it out until I could think of something to say that was appropriate. "So he wants the Pokemon DS, huh?" I said, looking through the pages. "We should've gone into Game Stop in there. I have a friend that works there..." I pulled my phone out and started going through my contacts list.

She looked over at me. "You think I'm a terrible mother for thinking that?" she asked.

"Thinking what?"

"That Christmas shopping for a kid that isn't going to live to enjoy the stuff he gets for Christmas is depressing and pointless?"

I shook my head, "I think you're an amazing mother who is very, very overwhelmed and doesn't entirely know what she's thinking right now because she is exhausted."

Abbey sighed. "I'm so tired of being overwhelmed," she complained. "I've been overwhelmed his whole life. When do I get to just be plain whelmed?"

I wondered if whelmed was a word. It must be if you can be over-whelmed, right? Can one be underwhelmed, I wondered? And what the fuck was a whelm anyways?

My thumbs rolled over the keyboard, tapping in a quick inquiry about the Pikachu DS. No way in hell was I wading through that mess if there wasn't even one in there...

Abbey looked at me. "I don't even know what he wants most this year. I kept bugging him to do this stupid catalog and he finally did and by then I just didn't have it in me to look at it."

"I'm texting to see about the DS. That has 4-stars."

My phone vibed.

We have one in stock but I can't hold it. When are you coming in?

I'm in the parking lot, I replied.

Outloud, I said, "I think it's great y'all do this catalog thing. It's a great idea. You know, we didn't do a lot for Christmas in my family, growin' up," I said absently, staring down at the heavily markered Lego brand page. Behind us, some car honked their horn trying to get us to back up faster. I stuck my hand out the window and waved them by.

Hurry man, these things are selling quick. People are going mental for the Pikachu.

"They've got one," I said as I turned the last page and I found a blank sheet of paper that had been inserted at the very back of the book. It was folded over and had 5 stars drawn on the front. I opened it and inside there was a crayoned drawing of three people - Matty, Abbey, and a non-detailed third person, just a stick figure with no hair or eyes or mouth. Underneath, in messy kid-scrawl, he'd written the words a whole family. The drawing was circled and stared with 5 very, very big stars.

I looked over at Abbey, who was still staring at the steering wheel. So I folded the crayoned page and I slid it out of the catalog and into my pocket.

"Do you want to go in?" I asked. "I can go get it if you don't want to go in."

She looked over at me, confused. "What?"

"I have a friend that works in the Game Stop. They have one there for us."

Abbey blinked. "One what?"

"The Pikachu DS?" I said.

"Oh," she said. Then her eyebrows stitched. "Oh. How did you --?"

"I texted him."

Abbey stared at me in surprise. "You managed to get him one of the hottest toys of the season from the car?"

I shrugged. "I guess so. They've only got one left though so we should probably get in there before someone else buys it."

Abbey pushed open her car door and we ran across the parking lot back into the mall, much to the disappointment of the shark-like parking spot hunters that lurked beyond the back bumper.




Abbey

I couldn't believe I'd unloaded like that on Nick, but I was even more in disbelief because he hadn't judged me even slightly. He'd just listened and comforted me and help me feel like I was doing something active to be a better mom, to act more hopeful for Matty. I felt understood for the first time in years by someone who wasn't a doctor. Of course, to be sadly honest, it was probably one of the first time in years that I'd talked to someone who wasn't a doctor.

The mall seemed a lot brighter and more festive now that I had my worry off my chest. The people jostling and crowding in around me weren't particularly wonderful but they were more than the blur of color and noise that they'd been the first time Nick and I had waded through the mess. I felt his hand snake back to grab onto mine and he squeezed and my fingertips brushed his knuckles. My heart raced at the feeling of his skin against mine, even if it was just our palms. I could feel the heat radiating from every one of his pores.

When we got to Game Stop there was a frenzy of excitement going on inside, and Nick shimmied his way through the huddle of people, letting go of my hand. I hung by the door and watched as he ducked and bumbled his way through to the shelf where the Nintendo DS display was. I could see the Pikachu box from where I was, and I watched Nick's hand jet out over the heads of several people blocking his way to the display to catch the box, and he waved his arms triumphantly, squishing and squeezing back through to the cash register with a grin.

Ten minutes later we were the proud possessors of the coveted Pikachu and four games for the thing that Nick had selected as the best games ever from the shelf. I had the bag looped over my wrist as we walked, still holding hands to avoid getting separated in the crowd. We were walking down the hallway when Nick suddenly spun and pulled me into a Teavana store - probably the only store in the mall that wasn't bustling beyond mobility - and ducked down behind a display. "Fuck," he muttered and he peeked through the display out into the hall.

I looked around. There were several employees helping the few other guests in the store, and luckily none of them had yet noticed Nick's odd behavior. "What in the hell are you doing?" I asked him.

"I just saw Lauren," he replied.

"So?" I asked, "Let's go see her, she can help us shop."

"No dude she thinks I'm at Vanderbilt. She's probably shopping for my Christmas present. Do you think she was headed toward the Apple store? I hope she was headed toward the Apple store. I really want that new iPad Air. But she won't buy it if she thinks I saw her and ruined the surprise..." Nick was rambling, a nervous edge to his voice. He hunkered further down the display so he was completely blocked from the hallway's view.

I stood there staring at him like he was nuts because, well, honestly...

"Do you see her?" he asked.

"Lemme look," I answered. I walked out to the hallway and I looked around. Lauren wasn't hard to spot in the crowd. She's super tall, like Nick is, and she must've been wearing heels that day because she towered even taller than usual. I glanced back into the store. Nick was pretending to read a box of acai berry tea. "Yeah I see her," I told him.

"Does she have an Apple bag?" he asked eagerly, eyes glowing.

"I'm not telling you that," I replied. I looked back out to the hallway. Lauren looked at her watch. She was standing by the Christmas tree looking frustrated. "She's not going anywhere," I told him, "She's just standing there."

Nick put the acai berry tea up. "What?"

"She looks like she's waiting for somebody," I replied.

Nick got up and inched along the row of displays to peek through the last one again. He narrowed his eyes as he peered out.

"Can I help you two with anything?" came a very zen, calm voice from behind me.

"We're good, thanks," I replied, "Just looking."

The woman followed my gaze, "Yes, I see that." She turned and walked away.

Nick suddenly let out a strange noise, and I turned around again to see Lauren greeting a guy with a big hug and a smile. I looked down at Nick. "That's Travis. My friend - the one that works at the Game Stop." Nick looked up at me, panicked, "What if he tells Lauren he saw me today? She'll know I'm here and not at Vanderbilt, she'll think I lied to her."

I stared at him.

His eyes got wide. "Oh shit, I must be getting a Playstation 4," he whispered in excitement and he turned away just in time to miss seeing them kiss.

"Uhhh..."

"No wonder she wouldn't let me go get it the other night," he was gushing, still back to. Which was good because they were still kissing, their mouths lingering.

Nick started to turn around and I grabbed his shoulders and kept him facing away. "You know, since we're stuck here a few minutes, maybe we should actually get some tea," I suggested. "Do you know any tea drinkers? I've thought about becoming one before, a tea drinker I mean. Maybe Monica would like tea. Isn't there a tea that's heart healthy? Maybe we should get Matty some."

I don't know why I was protecting Lauren from being spotted. Or maybe I was protecting Nick from doing the spotting, but I felt this urgency, like it was imperative that he not see what just happened out there. Maybe there was some kind of mistake, some honest reason why she'd kiss him, some cultural thing. But with a name like Travis... I don't know, I just didn't want him to see her, so I did everything but a cartwheel to keep his attention otherwise focused until Lauren and Travis had disappeared among the fray of post-Black Friday shoppers.

"Fuck tea, let's just go before Lauren decides to come in here for something," I said as soon as I'd noticed that they'd gone.

"Is she gone?" Nick turned around.

"Yeah I just watched her walk away," I replied.

Nick and I walked out of the mall. I was tugging him along persistently. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I hustled him across the parking lot to the car and he climbed in. I handed him the Pikachu DS with a sigh of relief as we got into the car. "I know, God damn it was crowded in there," he commented, mistaking the purpose behind my sigh of relief. "This is why I hate shopping," he added, wagging his finger, "It's a near death experience every time you walk through the doors." He leaned back in the chair, hugging the Game Stop bag to his chest contentedly. Then, "Shit I can't believe I'm getting a PS4 for Christmas." He grinned over at me like a Cheshire Cat. "I hope she got Call of Duty for it, I hear the graphics are unbe-fucking-lievable."

I pulled out of the space, leaving behind the mall, gripping the wheel tight, wondering what the hell to do about what I'd just seen.

Chapter Nineteen / 2013... and the last seven years


Abbey

During the entire drive across town to my apartment, where I promised to make Nick lunch, I rolled words around my mind to try to figure out how to tell Nick about Lauren and Travis...

It was hard to even find words that I could say because I kept trying to tell myself that I wasn't entirely positive I'd seen anything out of the ordinary or out of place. For all I knew, I kept insisting, it was perfectly normal for Lauren to give long, lingering kisses to all of Nick's friends. Maybe they had a very progressive, very open, very modern kind of relationship. I knew better, though, really, and the hesitation to tell him didn't come out of the lack of knowing what I saw so much as knowing it would break his heart.

Nick rambled so much about the PlayStation 4 and it's specs that he didn't even notice how quiet I was.

The apartments I live in are outside the city but not super far, just in a quiet area near the airport. There's a playground just a few steps outside our sliding deck door and an assortment of crazy stray cats that Matty grew up thinking were his. It's not a lot, even for apartment standards, but it's home and it felt really weird pulling up here with Nick Carter in the car.

He leaned forward to look at the building as he unbuckled his seat belt and I wondered if he was judging me for our modest housing. I knew he probably wasn't. The feeling I had was me judging myself, but still, I wanted to defend it, wanted to point out that I only just barely got the rent paid on my meager earnings. If it wasn't for charities and government assistance, I would've been belly up a long time ago thanks to Matty's medical bills and my need to be there for him. It was impossible to make the ends meet when you can barely work and have a sick kid and you're a single parent. If I could, I wanted to say, I'd have a big fancy mansion on a hill where Matty could play in the backyard. But this little apartment was all I could afford.

He followed me across the walkway and down a couple steps to our door. I unlocked it and pushed it open and he followed me inside, looking around without saying a word. We stood there in the center of my very beige living room. "It's not much," I said.

Nick shook his head, "This is great," he replied. He walked over to a shelf in the dining rom that ran the length of one of the walls. I'd covered it with pictures in frames. Mostly of Matty. There was one of Melly and a couple of my parents and my high school graduation, too, kind of peppered in. He walked along staring at the pictures while I put the DS bag down on the table and stepped into the tiny kitchen.

Upon opening the fridge I discovered I didn't have a whole lot of options. "Do you like mac and cheese?" I asked.

"Yeah, whatever's fine," he replied.

I pulled a box from the cupboard and filled a pan with water. As I was setting it onto the stove burner, Nick picked up one of the pictures of Matty when he was first born. "He was small," he said.

"He was."

Nick stared at the photo and took a deep breath, then put it back on the mantle. "I can't believe I missed all this," he said. He turned around. "You know in the movies when people are in a coma for years and years and they wake up and they're all freaked out to discover the world went on without them? That's how this feels in a way. Like there was this whole... this whole life that just... went on and I..." he shook his head.

I held out the box of mac and cheese. "Here, you watch the water a second. I'll be right back."

"Okay..."

I walked down the hallway, past Matty's room, to the closet and I pulled it open. Under the Christmas tree, behind old ornaments, in the far back of the closet, I found the box I was looking for. I pulled it out and carried it out to the dining room. Nick was just pouring the dry pasta into the water as I put the box down on the table. He stirred the pasta with a wooden spoon from the drawer and laid the spoon over the pan. "What's that?" he asked, turning to look at the box.

I pulled open the flaps. "It's Matty's baby stuff," I replied. And I pulled out a teeny tiny Titans jersey. "This is from when he was in the hospital the first time," I said, "The Titans whole team came to visit the hospital and the quarterback gave us this." I handed it to him. "It was too big for him at the time."

Nick took the jersey and looked at how small it was. "Wow."

"And these... these are the first shoes I ever bought him." I held up a pair of little Converse sneakers. "I bought them right after I found out I was pregnant. They were my Christmas gift to myself." I placed them in Nick's palm, and they practically disappeared in his wide hands. He stepped closer to see inside the box.

"This is Frederick," I said, pulling out a really old stuffed dog whose eyes were missing, long chewed off. "He was teething when Frederick was his favorite toy. I had a voice and everything for Frederick. He used to put on lullaby concerts every night to get Matty to go to sleep." Nick put down the shoes and jersey on the table to take hold of Frederick. "Careful, he's just barely held together. He was loved on so much he's been stitched back together a hundred times but that leg's still a little loose." Nick was very careful, Frederick laying across both his palms. I think I saw the beginning of tears in his eyes as he stared down at the floppy little dog.

Next to come out was a tin box I'd filled with old pacifiers, an old bottle with Elmo printed on it, a snugly bag like outfit that he'd worn during winter that looked like a teddy bear... Then was the photo albums.

We mixed together the mac and cheese and put it in bowls and sat down at the table and opened up the first photo album. Nick tilted his head, scooted closer to me to see. The first thing was a part of the box to the second pregnancy test I'd taken. When I'd told Melly about the first one, she'd insisted on a second and when the second one also came out positive, she'd turned the whole thing into an adventure instead of something to be upset about. Melly had been the reason I'd enjoyed my pregnancy. So we'd documented and scrapbooked everything. Even the box.

Then there was a series of pictures Melly had taken, side-shot measurements of my belly month to month, and silly pictures of me balancing things like cereal bowls and books on there. There was a picture in front of Graceland, where we'd gone to expose the unborn to the legend that is Elvis Presley (this was during a brief moment when I was insisting I would name the baby Elvis). There was a post-it note from me to her apologizing for my mood swings on the drive to and from Memphis -- the note's wording itself sounded like a mood swing, though, and wasn't exactly the best apology in the world, but an excellent demonstration of how unreasonable I was when I was pregnant.

There was, of course, all the ultrasound prints, collaged all together on one page. We drew stars and hearts around the first one that we could tell looked like a baby. (All the ones before that were labelled with our comments like - "Is that a peanut or a baby?" "All I can see is a blob!")

Then was a series of pictures she'd taken with her phone camera - so they were grainy printed out - of the ride to the hospital to have Matty, including Melly's boyfriend-of-the-month, who drove the car while Melly and I sat in the backseat and Melly made me make fish faces because neither one of us had a very strong grasp on Lamaze breathing.

Nick laughed at one she'd taken when we were in the delivery room and I was having contractions but not quite ready to deliver the baby yet. Melly had selfied us, leaning onto the bed with me. I was not amused by that point and so she was grinning in the photo while I had an expression on my face like the wrath of Satan unleashed.

Then was the grainy picture of the first time I ever held Matty. He was all red and making an ugly cry face, but there he was in my arms, before we knew there was any trouble, when he was just a healthy baby with big blue eyes and the softest dusting of blonde hair I'd ever seen... so perfect and tiny... I could still imagine how he felt in my arms.

His hospital bracelet, a deflated balloon, his birth certificate... Nick grinned as a series of pictures of him coming home for the first time and laying in his crib for the first time followed. "This is where it starts getting patchy," I said. "I didn't take a lot of pictures in the hospitals."

"I understand," he said, "I wouldn't have either."

"I love this one though..." It was an 8x10 of a photo that someone took - I don't even remember who - of me holding Matty in a rocking chair in the corner of his hospital room, a quilt given to us by a nurse spread across us, both of us asleep, his little hands curled and clutching into my hair, the wires from the heart monitors on his chest snaking away out of the frame, back lit by the setting sun from outside the window behind us. "I still have that blanket," I said, "It's in my room."

"That's a good one," Nick agreed.

"Here's his first steps," I said, pointing to the next picture, when Matty was older. He was toddling away. "He fell down like right after this was taken, I felt bad because I thought the flash might've scared him or something."

Nick chuckled, "Aw."

We waded on through the pictures. Birthdays and Christmases and Halloweens and first tooth and the first tooth lost - which was accompanied by a letter to the tooth fairy. The first letter to Santa (with a post script hello to Rudolph). There were hospital bracelets galore, each one carefully preserved.

Then... then came the page I knew Nick would be most surprised to see.

A couple tickets to the NKOTBSB tour and a picture of me and little 4-almost-5-year old Matty out front of the Bridgestone Arena, each wearing a Backstreet Boys t-shirt, a big grin on his little face. The picture was taken by a stranger I'd stopped on Broadway, and I'd crouched down so Matty and I were on the same level together, holding hands in the middle, our tickets held aloft on the sides.

"You came to see us," Nick mumbled, surprised. There was a selfie shot of me and Matty sitting in our seats, which were actually pretty good, and one that I'd taken of Nick as he'd danced down the center of the catwalk wearing his fedora, singing Raspberry Beret. "You were so close."

"I wanted him to see his father, even if he didn't know it," I replied quietly. He wasn't supposed to live through the year. This was the year we found Monica. Just a couple months after this." I took a deep breath, "He was so infatuated with you after we went to this show. He thought you were the coolest thing..." I laughed. "He danced around the living room for days, strutting and putting on this old hat of mine so he could flip it off his head the way you kept doing with that fedora in the show..."

I reached for the page and turned it, "And guess what he went for Halloween as that year?" He'd worn black denim jeans, a black tank top, a leather jacket that we'd searched everywhere for, and several gold chains around his neck. I'd made him a head set microphone with paper mache and an old coat hanger and we'd spent an hour doing his hair to spike in the front like Nick's, only to be flattened by the fedora he'd put yellow duct-tape around to make just like Nick's in the show. We'd taken pictures of him dancing his way down the stairs to the parking lot carrying his pumpkin bucket, and even flipping the shoulder of his jacket down in a sexy-man pose at the bottom step.

Tears were definitely coming down his cheeks now and he bit his lower lip and swiped them with the hand furthest from me as discreetly as he could, like he didn't want me to know he was crying as he looked on... then he put a hand over his mouth and his shoulder hunched a little. I reached an arm around Nick's shoulders and squeezed. Nick's breath shook. "I wish I'd known," he said, "I wish I'd been a better person and I'd have been there this whole time."

"You're here now," I said.

He nodded. "I don't cry like this usually," he choked. "I'm not a crier." He sounded like he was trying to retain dignity or pride or something. Like he was embarrassed by the tears.

"It's okay," I said.

"I just feel like I failed without even trying," he said, "Because I know I would've failed if I'd been there. You made the right choice, not telling me, I know it in my heart. But it still hurts. It hurts to know that as much as I want to have been there now, I wouldn't have wanted to be there then." Nick shook his head, "I had my priorities so wrong... so wrong. I just... I wish I'd been different from the start, you know?"

I nodded.

"I just wish it was different," he said thickly.




Nick

Abbey dropped me off at Vanderbilt before going home to take a nap. I promised to tell Matty she said she'd be back before he went to sleep that night, and she drove off. It was a little after three in the afternoon when I walked into his hospital room, my palms all sweaty because of how father-y I felt now that I'd seen him grow up in a series of photographs. He was sitting up in bed coloring when I walked in the door.

"Hey buddy," I said, and we high-fived.

"Hey!" he said excitedly as I sat in the chair next to his bed.

"What'cha coloring?" I asked.

He held up the picture. "Its the Ninja Turtles," he explained, "And they're fighting the bad guy who's a crazy old doctor guy that made a experimentation in his lab and now there's a big scary ogre guy I'm gonna draw next, and the Ninja Turtles have to beat him."

"Okay that is awesome," I said, "Are they gonna beat him?"

"Duh, they're the Ninja Turtles."

"I can't believe I had to ask," I laughed.

"I can't believe you did either," Matty replied. He put the drawing back on the table. "My green broke, though."

"I'll swing by the gift shop and get you new crayons before I leave. You can't draw the Ninja Turtles without green."

Matty grinned, "Thanks," he said.

"No problem," I answered. "So... how you feelin', kid?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Bored mostly."

"I don't blame you. I'd be bored, too."

"Phil stopped by before," Matty said, "He smells funny. Like corn and soap. But he watched MythBusters with me."

"I'm glad someone was here to watch it with you," I said.

Matty nodded. "My mom had to go home because she needed to sleep. Dr. Monica said my mom was zosted. Whatever zosted is."

"Exhausted," I answered, "It means really, really, really tired. You know, I saw your mom. She said she's gonna be back to see you tonight before bedtime."

"Good. I miss her."

"I bet you do. And I know she misses you, too."

Matty smiled a kind of small, sad little smile. He stared down at his Ninja Turtle drawing again for a moment.

"Hey," I said, "You know... you're a really, really great kid. I'm really proud of you."

He looked over at me, a bit of a confused expression on his face, "Proud of me? For what?"

"Just for being who you are," I answered. "It ain't easy to be someone in this world."

He laughed, "Everyone is someone."

"Nawh, some people are everyone."

He blinked at me. "What?"

"Well some people are like everyone else, they just do stuff cos everyone's doing it and they aren't themselves, so they're everyone. Then there's people that are just who they are and they don't care that they aren't like everyone else. Those are the someones. And I'm proud of you because you're a someone. You're a really great someone."

Matty's mouth curved into a smile. "You say stuff really funny sometimes," he commented.

"I do?"

"Yeah," he laughed, "Like how you say them is funny. Not a bad funny, just funny."

I laughed. "Yeah, I guess sometimes I do."

"I think you're a great someone, too," Matty informed me. "I thought so before, but now that we're buds I think you're even better." He grinned. "You're a really, really great grown up." He laughed.

I smiled. "That means a lot," I told him. I ruffled his hair a little, "You have no idea how much."

Chapter Twenty / 2013


Nick

That night on the drive home from Vanderbilt, I made a decision and I called Eddie before I could rethink it. He wasn't happy, but I didn't back down and by the time I pulled into the driveway I'd officially backed out of the entire Christmas season tour. I felt bad for the fans, and I knew we were going to get a lot of complaints about the choice and lose a lot of money, butit was important. I needed the month of December to be with my kid, just in case, despite all the positive thinking we were doing, the worst came to be. I'd missed enough.

Lauren's car was in the center of the driveway and I chuckled to myself as I climbed out of my car because I knew where she'd gone. I was gonna have to practice my surprised face all month so I looked appropriately shocked when I opened the present and found the PS4. I grabbed my drawing of the Ninja Turtles, which Matty had given to me, and headed inside the house.

"Hey, I'm home," I shouted. "I'm sorry I'm late-ish, but Abbey wasn't up at the hospital today, she went home for a couple hours, and I didn't wanna abandon Matty at the hospital all by himself." I threw my keys onto the hook at the door and kicked off my shoes. I walked through the dark entry way to the kitchen and flipped on a light, headed to the fridge and stuck Matty's picture up with two magnets. "What'd you do all day?" I shouted, taking the second picture - the one I'd hijacked out of the toy catalog, the five-star wish - out of my pocket and hanging that up, too.

No answer.

"Laur?"

Still nothing.

I headed back out to the foyer and flipped the light on the stairs on and jogged up them, my footfall thundering. "Hey Lauren? You in the shower babe?" There wasn't any light on under the bathroom door, so I headed for the bedroom and pushed the door open. She was laying in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin, eyes closed. Air fluttered the curtains through the window, pouring in all freezing cold. I snuck around the bed, not wanting to wake her up, and pushed the window shut. I wondered if she was sick or something 'cos even though I was late coming home, it wasn't actually late, it was only seven.

"Hey, you feeling okay, baby?" I whispered, leaning over her and gently putting my hand on her forehead. It felt a little clammy, like she was sweating. "You okay?"

She rolled slowly over and looked up at me, "I just don't feel very good, that's all. I'll be okay."

"I'll go get you some meds," I said, standing upright.

"No, that's ok. I already took some," she replied. "I just need to sleep it off."

"Okay..." I said. I walked around the bed and pulled my sweatshirt and t-shirt off, tossing them onto a chair in the corner, and I started undoing my belt.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"I'm gonna hold you," I replied.

"It's okay Nick, I don't want you to get sick, too," she replied.

"But you always want me to hold you when you're sick," I said, confused.

Lauren nodded, "I know, but... but if you get sick, you won't be able to see Matthew."

She was right. I hadn't thought of that. I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Boosa."

"Don't be sorry," she replied.

"I love you," I told her.

"I love you too," she answered.

I went back downstairs and I turned on the TV and flicked through the channels and the DVR programs, feeling restless and uneasy. Anytime someone I love is sick, I get this way. I shuffled my feet on the floor and I sat forward, then back. At some point, I fell asleep.

I know I fell asleep because the next thing I knew, I was being awakened by the sound of the doorbell ringing. My neck had bent in a weird direction during the night and I stretched it to the side as I waddled, still half asleep, through the early morning light to the front door. I pulled it open to find Brian standing on the stoop holding his duffle bag, his car parked up behind mine in the driveway. "Morning!" he shouted, grinning.

"Hey Frick," I mumbled, still half asleep. "You're here early."

"You're an hour behind me, I forgot, and I drove over early anyway... Dr. Danielson's lecture thing is at eleven and I wanted to be here in time to settle in before I went to that and..." he looked at me funny as I bent my cricked neck the other direction, rubbing it. "You okay there?" he tilted his head to match mine.

"Yeah, I'm a'ight. Lauren wasn't feeling too great last night, and I guess I ended up sleeping on the couch," I answered.

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Are y'all okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Okay? yeah we're great. I mean she literally wasn't feeling good, like a cold or --" I didn't even get to finish the sentence before Lauren appeared at the top of the stairs looking so gorgeous that even Brian couldn't help but stare a moment. "-- or something," I stammered lamely finishing my sentence.

She descended the stairs, a big smile on her face, "Morning Brian, you're here early."

He nodded, "Yeah. Yes, yes I am." He glanced at me as if to say, this is her sick?

"I take it you're feeling better?" I asked her.

"What? Oh. Yeah, I am. A lot better, thank you sweetie." She kissed my cheek, then turned to Brian, "How was the drive up from Georgia?"

"Great," Brian answered. He looked around, "I like this new place you guys got here, it's really open and bright."

"Thanks," I answered.

Lauren started gushing about the features of the house, pulling Brian along on a tour of the downstairs. I followed behind, trying to figure out how she'd gone from the sweaty mess I'd come home to last night to this perfectly healthy, almost glowing picture of sexiness that she was this morning. It didn't make sense.

After Brian had gotten the grand tour of the new house, he put his bag in the spare bedroom upstairs and he and I headed off to Vanderbilt to see Matty and Abbey and Dr. Danielson. Lauren opted to stay home, just in case she was still sick.

In the car on the way up the highway to downtown Nashville, Brian said, "So. How are you doing handling all this anyways?"

I shrugged. "You know, it's funny," I said, "I always assumed finding out there was a kid of mine out there used to be like my worst nightmare, but it's really not that bad. The worst part is knowing there was so much time that I missed with him, really."

Brian nodded. "So was that why he wished to meet you? Because he wanted to meet his dad?"

"He's a fan," I replied.

"So he didn't know when he wrote the essay who you were?" Brian asked.

"Not a clue. He still doesn't..."

Brian looked surprised, "He doesn't?"

I shook my head, "Abbey wanted to wait until she knew I wouldn't run off scared or something. I feel like I'm on a 90 day probation period or something with him. Except I don't know how long she plans to wait. The only people that know are Kevin, you, me, Abbey, and like two doctors at the hospital. Nobody else knows."

"Abbey's the mother, then?"

I nodded.

"This all must be really weird for Lauren," he commented.

"She's been super supportive," I answered. "It's incredible how awesome and understanding she's been."

"Leighanne would've had a cow if I ever had this issue," Brian chuckled.

"Please. You'd never have this issue, Brian."

"Well, I mean... yeah, that's true," he laughed.

"Lauren's been great," I told him, "She's even met Matty. She helped me bring Thanksgiving dinner over there. Her exact words when I told her about all this was that everyone makes mistakes and she's more interested in the future than the past."

Brian shrugged, "I'm just saying if I was somehow in that situation, if Leighanne was just cool with it, I'd seriously be wondering why."

I gnawed my lower lip. "What're you saying, exactly?"

I didn't want to be feeling defensive. I didn't want Brian to be saying what I was thinking he might be insinuating. His face turned red. He clearly didn't want me to be getting defensive either. And I tried to remind myself of that even as my temperous blood started to boil just under my skin cells.

"I'm just saying, like, maybe there's - there's a reason, that maybe --" he faltered. Then he stopped, "Nevermind, Nick. I know Lauren wouldn't hurt you like that, so it's stupid I even said it and I don't want to fight with you."

"Okay." I decided to just let the topic drop, even though I could tell Brian was just saying what I wanted to hear to appease the situation and had not actually voiced his actual opinion.

We quickly changed the topic to other stuff for the rest of the ride. But I'd be a liar if what Brian had said didn't start churning around inside me like a nearly silent storm rumbling in the distance of my consciousness.

When we got to Vanderbilt, we walked inside and took the elevator up to Matty's floor. "Heyyy," I called as we entered the room. Abbey was asleep on the chair, Myth Busters on TV, Matty sitting up eagerly watching.

A big grin spread across his face, "Nick! I was hoping you'd -- OH NO WAY!" Brian had walked in the room behind me and Matty's eyes had doubled in size, "NO WAY!"

"Matty, this is my -- my best friend, Brian Littrell," I said, stepping aside so Brian could swoop up to Matty's beside.

"Hallo!" Brian said energetically, a big grin spreading across his face, "How're you doin' man?" He held up his hand for a high five, which Matty enthusiastically gave.

"I'm good!" Matty exclaimed. I noticed he glanced over my shoulder to see if there were any other Backstreet Boys in tow. "This is so cool. Are you here so I can audition to be the next Backstreet Boy? I know all the lyrics. I told Nick the other day that if Kevin hadnt'a come back I could've been his replacement if you needed, but he came back. I have all your CDs."

Brian laughed. "You have... the... Black and Blue CD?"

"Yes!"

"How about Millennium?"

"Yes! Of course!" Matty laughed.

Brian rubbed his chin. "Okay. How about the brand new record, In a World Like this, do you have that one?" Matty rolled over, whipped open the drawer by his bedside, and produced a copy of the album, which he held up proudly. Brian laughed, "Well, I guess you've got all the albums then."

"I have This is Us and Unbreakable and the Backstreets Back and the Backstreet Boys one and --" he started rattling off pretty much everything we've ever released, and Brian nodded, eyes wide in the amazed expression that Matty was expecting him to have.

I nudged Abbey. She stirred, "Mmm?" She blinked slowly awake, and I noticed for the first time how long and thick her eye lashes were as she peered up at me through them. "Nick?"

"Hey," I said. I smiled as she struggled to sit up. She spotted Brian and she blinked again - this time in surprise. "I have a little bit of a surprise."




Abbey

As a mother, I've never been fond of waiting rooms. I always picture Matty laying on some table somewhere in the depths of the hospital, crying and begging them to let me come hold his hand. I know that the reality of it is probably nothing like that - especially when he comes back telling me all about these super cool machines he got to ride through or whatever - but I can't help but imagine it the entire time he's gone. I sat in the chair in the waiting area, my knee bouncing with nerves, as Nick paced and Brian flicked through a magazine in the chair directly beside me.

I looked over at Brian and I noticed he was watching Nick out of the corner of his eyes, never turning the pages of the magazine he held, just... watching Nick discreetly. It occurred to me that Brian knew Nick better than anyone else in the entire world. I hesitated.

"Hey Nick?"

He turned around.

"I - I'm sorry, I don't dare to leave the room in case they come back, but I - I'm really thirsty." I fished into my pocket for some crumpled dollar bills. "Can you go get me a cranberry juice?"

Nick blinked in surprise. "Uh... yeah. Sure." He waved away the money, "I got it."

"But -" I waved the money at him.

"Seriously. I got it." He turned and left the room.

I hesitated just long enough to know he was out of ear shot, then I turned to Brian. "If you had something you had to tell Nick and you didn't know how to tell him it, because it wasn't particularly good news, how would you do it?"

Brian lowered the magazine. "You figured out how to tell him he has a kid without too much trouble, what other not-particularly-good news could you possibly have for him?" he asked with a chuckle.

I squirmed. "I don't really want to talk about it..." I said, "I just... I need to know what to say to him."

Brian stared at me for a long moment, analyzing me. "Like a bandaid."

I knew exactly what he meant. Quick and simple, without too much warning so he couldn't build up how bad it was going to be when he heard it in his head. Just one quick pull and it's done.

"Thanks," I said.

Brian nodded. "Just out of curiosity, why didn't you tell him before now? About Matthew, I mean."

"We only had a one night stand," I said, "He's an international pop star. It's the most ridiculous situation I ever could've landed myself in, one I never dreamed of being in, even in my wildest teeny-bopper dreams. Nobody would've believed me if I said anything, and he wasn't in a place that he could've helped me. He was going through his own shit, that was obvious from the one night I spent with him."

"He could've sent money," Brian said logically.

"I didn't want money," I replied.

"You needed it," he said, waving his arms around to indicate the situation, the hospital bills.

"It would've hurt too much to have him involved, even remotely, without having him in our lives," I said. "I know it doesn't make sense. I know it's stupid and it's selfless to a fault or something but I didn't want to have a part of him out of obligation. That's part of why I almost didn't tell him even now, when he came here. Part of why I haven't told Matty yet. I just want to know this isn't an obligation he's infatuated with right now that's going to be forgotten a month from now." I paused. "If Matty's still here."

Brian took a deep breath. "He cancelled a tour."

"What?"

"He cancelled the tour we were supposed to be doing this month. Cancelled it to be here. With you guys." Brian's eyes searched mine. "I've known Nick for twenty years, Abbey, and he has bailed out on, like, three shows - ever. He's performed sick, he's performed through grief, stress, under the influence... He stayed on stage after being called to hear his sister passed away." He took a deep breath. "Basically what I'm saying is if he cancelled an entire tour to be here with Matthew, then he's all in."

I didn't know how to answer. The words Brian said spun wrecklessly through my head. I was picturing the strength that had radiated in Nick's eyes in those videos of the night Leslie had died. I remembered watching those videos from that show and feeling my heart break for him. It never occurred to me just how remarkable it was that he'd stayed on the stage. I remembered people complaining about it, people saying he was heartless. But the tears had said otherwise. I didn't know that he'd cancelled the tour for us, he hadn't said anything about it. I'd only been semi-aware that there was a tour in December he was supposed to be embarking on, I'd completely forgotten the tickets he'd offered Matty on Day One. It hadn't even occurred to me that having shows to do in December meant him not being around everyday, like Matty and I had very quickly become accustomed to.

Before I could find words or even wrap up my spinning thoughts, Nick came back in the room with my cranberry juice and Brian picked up a different magazine.

"I had to go halfway to kingdom come to find cranberry juice in this place," Nick said, handing it to me, "None of the vending machines had it. I had to go down to the cafe. Sorry it took so long."

"It's cool," I replied. I'd specifically asked for cranberry juice because I knew how far you had to go to get it. I knew everything in every one of the vending machines clear across the entire hospital campus. I'd spent three-quarters of Matty's life here. "Thank you," I said. But I didn't mean for the cranberry juice. I meant for the tour. For being all in.

Nick nodded.

Chapter Twenty-One / 2013


Abbey

When Dr. Gordon Danielson came to get us after running tests on Matty for the good part of the morning, I couldn't help but appreciate his age. He looked like he was wise and would know everything there is to know - like Yoda of cardiology. Monica was with him, and led us all up to her office to talk.

"Matty's getting settled back up in his room," Monica told me. She smiled, "He liked the big machines and wasn't scared at all." She winked.

Dr. Danielson settled into one of the chairs as Nick sat on the arm of mine and Brian sat in the third one. He took a deep breath, "We did an echocardiogram and an ECG, and from what I can see, it looks like there's been a lot of attempts at repairs to Matthew's VSD over the years," he said.

Monica nodded, "As you know, two of them are mine. The rest were prior to my involvement with the case. It seems like the muscle isn't strong enough to uphold the repairs, though, and reopens during the recovery time."

"Matthew's septum wall is damaged to a point that it is beginning to effect the atrial champers as well as his ventricle chambers," Dr. Danielson said. He sighed. "For a young kid, he has a very, very old heart. And unfortunately the only thing I can really recommend is that he needs a new one."

Monica stared down at the papers on her desk. I felt Nick's hand tighten on my shoulder. I hadn't even been aware it was there until he tightened it. I blinked up at Dr. Danielson, at that wise old Yoda man, and I asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means we've changed Matthew's status with UNOS from a 2 to an 1B." Dr. Danielson said. "The good news is that, because he's got both myself and Dr. Potter listed as his physicians, he is now on multiple waiting lists. Here at Vanderbilt on Dr. Potter's list, as well as my own list. That increases your likelihood of being selected. We're going to start him on the immunosuppressant medication today so that his immune system can begin preparing."

I closed my eyes.

"That said," Dr. Danielson's voice boomed louder when I wasn't staring at him, sounded stronger, sounded more certain. "We've given Matthew a device he can wear like a watch that will keep track of his heart rate and oxygenation levels in his blood. This way he can be monitored without being here, at the hospital."

I opened my eyes.

"I think it would do Matthew very well to get to go home for the holidays."

"But what - what you said he - he needs a heart transplant..." I stammered. "I - how can he go home and be - be worse than he was? I don't understand."

"There's really nothing that we are doing for him here at the hospital," Monica explained, "He is stable with his vitals. There's no reason for him to be cooped up here. Just... make sure he takes it easy, that he's resting, and taking his medication and wearing the monitor at all times. We'll have at least four visits a week to monitor him ourselves, but I agree with Dr. Danielson, there's no reason that Matty shouldn't be able to go home for the holidays and experience a --" she paused, looking at Nick, then back at me pointedly, "-- family Christmas."

Nick shifted his weight. I suddenly could feel his presence a thousand times more than I had even the moment before. He was all in, I told myself, all in. He wasn't going anywhere. All in.

Monica held out a beeper. "And keep this with you at all times. This is how UNOS will be notifying you of a potential donor."

I took it, my hands shaking.

Dr. Danielson nodded, "Bring him home, enjoy the holiday. Make it one to remember. And meanwhile, we will do everything to get him the miracle he needs to have many more family Christmases." He smiled.

"When?" I asked. "When can he go home?"

Monica looked at Dr. Danielson, then turned back to us. "Tomorrow. We'd like to monitor him overnight on the wristband before sending him home, but after that -- he's all yours."




Nick

I expected Abbey to be more excited as we headed back to Matty's room. She was hugging herself, staring at the wall of the elevator, like she was traumatized. I nudged her. "You okay?" I asked. Brian was watching from the corner.

Abbey reached out and hit the stop button on the elevator.

"I'm scared," she said. "They're sending me mixed signals and I don't know what to believe. Is he really as sick as they say, or is he better? Is he dying? Is this really a good choice? Is he so close to death that they're sending him home to be comfortable? Is this like granting me time to be with him before he passes away? Are they hopeful? Doubtful?" Abbey's eyes flashed with each question. "I don't know what to think. What do you think?"

I shrugged, "I think he's gonna like being able to go home for Christmas."

Brian took a deep breath, "They send patients on the UNOS wait list home a lot," he said. "If they can, they send them home so they can be comfortable, so they can live as much life as they can while they wait, in case they have to wait for a long time. In case what they're waiting for doesn't come. That's the difference between 1B and 1A. 1B is the people that are home, and 1A are the people that don't have that option." He looked between the two of us. "Dr. Danielson sounded pretty hopeful to me."

I looked at Abbey.

She sniffled and rubbed her nose. "He seems really smart," she said.

"He is," Brian assured her. "He's the very best there is. He's very highly respected. If he's confident that transplantation is a good idea for Matthew, and he's certain enough it'll happen that he's starting the immunosuppressants then I think you can be fairy hopeful."

Abbey nodded.

I smiled, "See Abbey? Its gonna be okay." I reached out a hand and rubbed her back softly. "And you and Matty can come over and spend Christmas with me and Lauren at the house. And you can come decorate our Christmas tree, too. It'll be great. It'll be like we're a family, the four of us."

Abbey smiled.

I reached over and hit the go button on the elevator and we moved up another couple floors.

Then she stuck out her hand and her palm pressed the elevator stop button again. "I can't," Abbey announced.

"What?"

"We can't be like a family, the four of us," Abbey answered.

"What? Why not?"

"Because, Nick," she said, "The other day, at the mall, when we were in Teavana, I saw Lauren in the hallway kissing the guy from Game Stop." The words had come out all in one breath and they hung there in the air between the three of us, so thick and heavy it was hard to believe they weren't really visible. Brian was leaning against the wall, eyebrows shot nearly off his forehead they were raised so high. "I'm sorry, but that's why. I thought you should know." She reached for the elevator button again.

I stayed her hand.

Abbey stared up at me.

"Why - why would you say that?" I asked. "Why would you try to break me and Lauren up?"

Abbey licked her lips. "Nick, I'm just telling you what I saw. I'm not trying to break you and Lauren up --"

"It sure sounds like you are," I muttered.

"-- I don't know if there was a reason they were kissing, if that's like a normal thing or --"

"Normal?" I hooted, "In what way would Lauren kissing Travis be normal?"

Abbey looked uncomfortable. "I don't know! I don't know what kind of -- limits -- you have set on your relationship..."

"I'm not a polygonist!"

"Polygamist," Brian mumbled.

"That's what I said!" I snapped at him. I turned back to Abbey, "Lauren wouldn't kiss Travis, that's - that's wrong, you must be mistaken. You weren't looking at the same Lauren I was. You probably saw someone you thought was Lauren, but it wasn't her."

"At the exact same time you actually saw Lauren at the mall?" Abbey asked.

"I don't know," I answered. I felt like I was being squeezed into a corner, like Abbey and Brian were both towering over me, like I was very, very, very small and the world was very, very, very big and I was very, very, very alone in it.

Brian eyes were swiveling back and forth between us like he was watching a tennis match or like one of those damn Felix the Cat clocks.

"Lauren wouldn't cheat on me," I said, and even as I said it, I heard the whiney five-year-old tone in my voice.

Brian cleared his throat.

I looked at him.

He turned red in the face. "N-New York," he stammered.

It was Abbey's turn to look between Brian and I like she was the Felix clock.

"That was one time," I said, "And it was a mistake."

"What happened in New York?" Abbey asked.

Brian rubbed the back of his neck. "A couple of us were - out - and - we thought - that we might've seen Lauren at a bar and - she denied it, but - it turned out --" he licked his lips. My glare made him end the story there. Abbey looked at me. Brian continued,"Nick, what if --"

"We're engaged now, were both grown up a lot more than we were then. She wouldn't do that to me," I said. "Not again. And last time she had a reason. I'd done it to her."

Abbey looked at me with wide eyes.

"It was a long time ago," I said. I turned to Brian, and said, through my teeth, "We've discussed this. Ad nostum."

"Ad nauseum," Brian corrected.

I growled. I swear to God, I growled like for real.

Brian held up his hands in surrender. "I just don't want to see you get hurt, buddy, that's all."

"Me, either," Abbey spoke up.

"I'm not getting hurt. She's not hurting me. I know her, and you're both wrong. You're wrong." I punched the elevator go button and the car slid up to Matty's floor and the doors dinged open and we stepped out.

I kept my jaw clenched tight, my eyes stoney. I balled my fists and walked with resolution, as though I was certain of myself, of my feelings, of Lauren, of the foundation of our relationship, of the tell-each-other-everything lifestyle that I'd fallen into, of the trust I had in her. But I had a feeling that I was trying to make myself believe in my certainty as much as I was trying to make them believe in it. I really, truly wanted to believe that I was right. Because it scared the shit out of me that I might be wrong.

Chapter Twenty-Two / 2013... and a little 2012


Nick

I was never a one-woman guy before Lauren. I had a couple relationships that lasted a little bit of time but I was never really exclusive with any of those women. We had what is fashionably called open relationships. I just kind of floated from one bed to another, many nights I didn't even remember which girl I was with because they all became a blur in my mind. I called all of them baby, just so I wouldn't mess up the names. Then I met Lauren.

When Lauren and I first started dating we had the same sort of situation going on. She was seeing this guy with big biceps that I didn't really want to tango with and she was seeing me and I was seeing this girl with big boobs and blonde hair. Then it seemed like I saw less and less of boobalicious and more and more of Lauren, who was seeing less and less of biceps and more and more of me, and eventually it just kind of happened that neither of us had the side dishes. And we never really talked about being exclusive or anything, it just kind of happened.

Until one day I met this girl and I was drunk and Lauren was back in LA and I was on tour and it'd been awhile since I'd - you know, gotten any. And I was very, very spoiled that way. So when the girl slid into my bed I told myself it was fine because Lauren and me, we weren't really, officially exclusive. She found out about it of course, the way that everyone finds out about everything in our little clan. AJ talked. AJ told Rochelle, who told Lauren, who had flown out to New York to meet up with us. She confronted me and I defended myself with my argument that we'd never talked about being exclusive and Lauren said, "We aren't exclusive? Fine."

Two nights later, Brian and Leighanne swore they saw Lauren in a bar downtown in New York while they were out and they came back to the hotel ratting her out to me. I was hurt and I mentioned it to her and she said she hadn't done anything wrong. And that whole ordeal caused this colossal argument between me and Brian because I called Leighanne a liar, accused her of just hating Lauren, and me, and wanting to turn Brian against us both. It wasn't until I went into a full swing of depression over the fallout of the argument with Brian that Lauren came clean, admitted she'd cheated on me in New York - but only because I'd cheated on her first.

"You cheat on me, and I will cheat on you," she said in a rage that night as we fought about what had happened in New York. "I can't stand thinking I'm losing you to someone else," she said. "I need to know you're mine." And then we finally talked about the whole exclusivity thing.

Brian never quite got it that we'd been open before that. He never really understood the concept of an open relationship to begin with. So it wasn't technically cheating, what Lauren and I had done back then. We'd dedicated ourselves to each other since then. I'd given her a ring and a promise to love her forever and we'd stood on an island surrounded by our dogs and our friends and we'd pledged to spend the rest of our lives together. In March, we planned to do it again, legally, officially, in front of all the people of the world on TV and everything. In my heart, we were already married. It was just the step of making it legal and all that, like signing a written contract after already making a verbal one.

Which is why I didn't believe Brian and Abbey. Despite the past.

Brian and I drove home from Vanderbilt in almost absolute silence. I think we said maybe two miniature conversations the whole way home, and one of them was about the weather being unseasonably warm for this time of year, which barely counts as a conversation.

When we pulled up to the house, I stared at it, feeling sick.

"You okay?" Brian asked.

I took a deep breath. "I don't want you to be right."

"I know."

We sat there in the driveway for several moments before I pushed open my car door and started across the walkway. Brian followed. Nacho came prancing downstairs to greet me and I scratched behind his ears as Brian hung up his jacket. Lauren came down and I stared up at her, feeling the question rumbling in my guts. She kissed me enthusiastically and smiled at Brian with glowing eyes that I'd once believed I could see her soul through. Now they seemed deep and mysterious, like they were concealing secrets I couldn't even imagine.

"We gotta talk a minute," I said.

"Okay," Lauren replied. "I ordered Chinese for us all."

Brian smiled. "I'll be... in the other room.. somewhere.." he ducked away into the living room.

"Let's go upstairs," I suggested.

"Okay."

Lauren followed me up the stairs to our room and I closed the door behind me and turned to talk to her about everything and she reached for the button on my jeans as she came forward and pressed her mouth to mine. For a split second, I almost forgot what I was about to ask her, about to melt into her, to let the sex happen, but I heard Abbey's voice in my head and I stopped her hands. "Laur," I said, "Wait a second, hold up. I have a confession to make."

She blinked in surprise. "A confession?"

"Yeah," I said.

"What is it?" her eyebrows cinched together.

"The other day... yesterday... I didn't spend the whole entire day at Vanderbilt with Matty."

Lauren stared up at me. "You didn't?"

"No. I spent part of the day with Abbey."

The cinched eyebrows undid and her eyes widened and she said, "You did?"

"Yes," I answered. "Nothing happened between me and her. We just... we went Christmas shopping for Matty, and we went to --" I paused. I licked my lips. "We went to Green Hills Mall."

I knew Brian and Abbey were right the instant the words were out of my mouth because I saw Lauren's eyes shift from concern for what had happened between Abbey and I to what I had seen between Travis and her.

"Oh?" she whispered.

"Abbey saw you and Travis," I said quietly.

Lauren stared at me, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. After a few long, intense moments, she looked away.

"Did you... sleep... with him?" I asked.

Lauren took a sharp breath of air and stepped away from me, over to the dresser, staring into the mirror at the reflection of me over her shoulder. "Nick," she said, "Can't we just forget about this?"

"Was he here?" I asked. "Last night? When I came home?" I looked at the window, at the tree outside it, at the lawn below. I felt my stomach churn and I laughed cruelly, turning to look at the bed, "Was he in my bed?"

Lauren turned around, "Nick, its not as -- as dramatic as all that, okay? It was just sex. It didn't mean anything."

"It does mean something," I answered.

"Says the king of meaningless sex," Lauren scoffed.

"I'm not the king of meaningless --" I started, but Lauren interrupted me.

"You have a kid with some slut you banged seven years ago, Nick, how the fuck do you think that makes me feel?" her voice shook the walls as she yelled it. I know Brian had to have heard her downstairs. Probably the neighbors did, too. I felt my cheeks flush red. "You talked about phone number girl for years before you proposed to me, Nick, what the hell am I supposed to think when you're gone all day everyday for the last week spending time with her? And I meet her and she's fucking gorgeous and you're all doting over the kid and when I said I wanted kids you were like I hate kids and not even interested." Lauren wrapped her arms around herself and shouted, "You're trading me in. So... so I found someone who wanted me!"

"I wanted you, you dumb bitch!" I yelled back.

"Wanted! Past tense!"

"Only since I found out about you and Travis!"

"I told you - if you cheat on me, then I'll cheat on you," Lauren said thickly, voice lowering.

"I didn't cheat on you," I answered, also lowering my voice to match hers.

Lauren shook her head, "Maybe not yet, but give it time and you would've. Eventually." She rubbed away tears from her eyes and her mascara smeared on the side of her face a little. "Nick, we were perfect for each other, you and me. But she's got your kid. And you've fantasized about the girl attached to the phone number in your book for years. It was only a matter of time."

I thought about the magnetic feeling that had charged between Abbey and I the day before, when I'd almost kissed her, when I'd stayed my reaction because of Lauren. I thought of the way her hand felt in mine when I'd pulled her through the mall, the way I'd touched her shoulder, rubbed her back, the way I always wanted to hold her and tell her that everything would be okay, even though I didn't really know that. I thought about how, if I had the power, I'd fight tooth and nail for her and Matty to be happy and healthy.

God damn it, I thought, maybe Lauren was right.

She stared up at me. "I'm sorry," she said, "I was wrong to cheat on you. But you're going to cheat on me, too. And I didn't want you to have that kind of power over me - the power to break my heart." Lauren sighed. "I guess I wanted to break yours first."

"Well you did a helluva good job," I choked, and I felt heat behind my eyelids, threatening to become tears.

Lauren came close and she put her hands on my cheeks and she pulled my face to hers and our mouths touched and I kissed her as deep as I ever had, feeling like it was a moment I needed to press into my mind, and that if I kissed her deep enough it might leave a lasting mark, like one of those old fashioned stamping machines. After a long, long kiss, I pulled away, and I turned to the closet and grabbed a couple shirts. Lauren watched, standing by the dresser, her hand lightly resting on her lips. I went in the adjoined bathroom and took my toothbrush and toothpaste. "I'll be back for the rest of my stuff tomorrow," I said.

Lauren nodded silently.

I jogged down the stairs to the living room. Brian was sitting in the chair, hands folded in his lap, biting his lips. He looked up when I stood in the door way.

"C'mon, Frick," I said, "Let's go see about a hotel."

Brian grabbed his duffle bag from the floor. He must've gone upstairs for it while Lauren and I were talking. He already knew we'd be leaving.




Abbey

Matty had a tough time going to sleep that night, he was so excited about the prospect of going home the next day. Even after I'd tucked him in and we'd shut off the lights, he lay in bed, his eyes wide open, staring out the window beyond me at the moonlight, chattering away about all the Christmas traditions we needed to make sure happened during the next month, and even counted the days until Christmas one by one on his little fingers. He wiggled around when I told him he needed to sleep, and pulled the blankets to his chin and closed his eyes real tight and waited a couple seconds. "It's not working," he said, "I think my sleep is broken." He rolled to look at me again, "Are we going to bake the cookie people?" he asked.

"Of course," I answered, "What would Christmas be without gingerbread men?"

"And you'll make the lasagna?"

I nodded, "I always do. Now go to sleep."

"Okay. I'm trying." He lay quiet for a couple moments in the dark. I thought maybe I had him this time, but then... "We need to tell Mr. Nick!" He sat upright in bed, looking at me a panic, "Mr. Nick doesn't know where we live. What if he comes to the hospital tomorrow looking for me and I'm not here and he thinks we aren't friends anymore? Mommy, we need to tell Mr. Nick so he can still come see me!"

I stood up and walked over to the bed and gently guided his shoulders back to the mattress, tucking him in again, "I already told Nick, honey," I said. I brought the blankets up to Matty's chin and gently swiped his hair of his forehead, "Nick knows where we live, I told him, and he's going to come see you." I paused, thinking of the resolution in Nick's eyes and the way he'd set his jaw when I told him about what I'd seen at the mall. I looked down at Matty. "He might not come tomorrow because he's very, very busy, but he will come see you. He knows you guys are still friends, don't worry."

Matty stared up at me, "I really like Mr. Nick being my friend, I don't want him to not be able to find me. You're sure he knows where we live?"

"I'm positive," I answered, "I showed him the other day, when Monica sent me home, I showed Nick our apartment."

"Why?"

"He was hungry and I made him macaroni and cheese," I answered.

"You didn't show him my super heroes, right? I want to show him my super heroes. He's going to think they're so cool."

"I didn't show him your super heroes."

Matty nodded, content with that answer and he snuggled into the pillows again. I kissed his forehead. "Go to sleep. Soon enough it'll be time to wake up and all your dreams will come true." I ran my hands through his hair as his eyes started to get droopy and his head turned gently into my hand, his cheek softly pressing against my palm. "That's right, sweetie," I whispered, "Go to sleep..."

I sat there, waiting until he was breathing deep and rhythmic, and his little eyelids were no longer fluttering in resistance, then I slid off the bed and back into the chair and I leaned back and closed my own eyes, only to find I was having the same trouble Matty had been having. Falling asleep was nearly impossible.

I thought about Nick and I wondered if he was okay, what he was doing, if he'd talked to Lauren. For his sake, I wanted to be wrong about what I'd seen. I wanted him to be right, that Lauren wouldn't ever do that to him. He'd been so happy, I thought. I'd seen pictures of him online over the time that he'd been with her and he'd been happier with her than I'd ever seen him before. And he'd been so proud of how supportive she'd been about Matty and everything that it was a shame that it'd been all tainted with a terrible underlying motive.

I couldn't picture doing that to Nick. I couldn't picture needing more than Nick. I mean, I guess I didn't know him before, really, I only caught a glimpse of who he'd been back in 2007, but I was getting to know him pretty well now, and he seemed like the full package. How could anyone have someone like Nick and not be completely fulfilled? I mean seriously, it'd been seven years, sure, but I could certainly remember the details of that one night with Nick and it couldn't be for a want of sexual supplement that anyone would cheat on the guy, that's for damn sure. And he listened, and he did things like squeeze your shoulder when you received bad news and hold your hand in a crowded mall so you didn't get lost. He did the little things. The things that count as big things in a relationship.

I lay there thinking about it until the moon light filtering in through Matty's window faded into sunlight and the sounds of traffic began to echo in the streets below. That's when I finally fell asleep - when the world reminded me that no matter what happens day to day, the morning comes and life goes on.

Chapter Twenty-Three / 2013


Abbey

That night, I dreamt of Nick. But not in a dirty way. Just in general. I woke up several times after holding long conversations with him in my dreams - what about, I couldn't remember. But I woke up and looked at the clock, expecting hours and hours to have passed and each time discovering it was less than thirty minutes since the last time I'd done this.

I was worried about him, about whether he was angry with me for telling him about Lauren still or not. I spent most of the night wondering where he was and what he was doing. Had he talked to Lauren? Was he okay? Was he heart broken somewhere? I pictured him throwing her stuff out of the bedroom window and onto the lawn, screaming at her to get out of his house (and his life) because he deserved better than she'd given him. But even as I imagined it I knew that Nick was too kindhearted to do anything like that. More likely, he was sleeping on the couch. Or driving around in his car. Or something.

All I could think was that she was fucking lucky that Nick didn't have the vengeful attitude that I had bubbling just below the surface or else she'd be landing on the curb with a bruised tailbone from the door that would've hit her in the ass on her way out. I don't know why what she'd done made me so pissed off, after all, it wasn't my heart she'd been playing games with, it was Nick's and what did that have to do with me? I couldn't believe anyone could cheat on that man, he was so perfect and sweet. I wouldn't ever be able to hurt him like that, no matter who was trying to compete with him.

If things had been different seven years ago, I thought, he wouldn't be going through this now.


I sat staring up at the pattern the moon and clouds were making on the ceiling of Matty's room.

I was almost back to sleep when Matty moved, and the movement from the bed made me sit up in a flurry of panic. He was just rubbing his nose and rolling over to his other side. I let out a low sigh and leaned back into the chair, my eyes sliding closed with relief. It was at that moment I realized how god-damned terrified I was of bringing him home in the morning. What if I took him home and he had an episode, what if his heart gave out when there was only me around to watch him? What if it was during the night? What if it was during the day and he couldn't get my attention in time? A hundred thousand what-ifs parasailed around in my head, like a disturbed hive of bees, stinging my senses and making my hands sweat and shake as I stared at him laying there in bed.

Christmas at home with Matty was going to be different. As I've said already, we'd spent a better number of his holidays in the hospital. We didn't have a lot of traditions installed, and I was afraid of disappointing him, of not making his Christmas as special as he deserved it to be... just in case. I wanted to create memories that I could hold onto for the rest of my life because if -God forbid- something happened to him, I would need those memories desperately.

If things had been different seven years ago, I thought again, things would be different for all three of us. Nick wouldn't be out there with a broken heart, I wouldn't be laying here in a chair worrying about him and about Matty. Matty wouldn't have spent the fist six years of his life without a father, without a real family Christmas. We would have traditions. We would have been happy. All of us.

I picked up my cell phone and I opened a text message. I wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point over the last two weeks, I'd become dependent on Nick to be the one to listen. Maybe because, even though he was only just now getting on board, I still felt like we were going through the same thing. I mean I know he wasn't going through it the way I was - but he was the closest thing I had to a friend, besides Monica, and Matty's own doctor doesn't really count.

All I want for Christmas is for all of us to be happy. I hope you know that Nick.

After I pressed send, I lay there staring at the text box, waiting for the phone to say that he was typing something in response, just praying that he would.

He didn't answer my text.

What if he was mad at me and that's why he wasn't answering? What if me telling him about Lauren had incited his need for the parachute? I stared at the text window, just willing him like crazy to please, please text me back. I'd already lost him once, I thought, I couldn't handle losing him again.

And for that matter, neither could Matty.

I just wanted to know he was okay. So that's what I texted him. And a few moments later I got the following:

Hey, Nick's ok. He will text you in the morning. This is Brian.

I wasn't sure if I was relieved or not.




Nick

I gripped the steering wheel tight. I could see my knuckles were white as we passed under streetlamps heading up the backroads to the city. Brian sat quiet beside me, biting his lip and studying his hands. I'm not sure if he was being quiet to allow me time to process my thoughts or if he was just afraid to say anything because he thought he might set me off or something.

I felt like a gutted fish, like Lauren had reached down my throat and pulled out all my insides and thrown them away and now I was just all hollow and smelly in there. I blinked back tears, frustrated tears. I was just as angry with myself for letting her hurt me as I was with her for actually hurting me. I should've protected myself better, I thought, I shouldn't have let my guard down.

It wasn't until I was turning onto Children's Way that I realized I'd driven to Vanderbilt - or maybe I'd driven to Abbey. I drove past the front doors, my throat tight.

Maybe Lauren was right, maybe she wasn't the first one that had abandoned our relationship. I thought of all my second-guessing I'd done during the European promo run, all the times over the past six months that I'd completely forgotten that I was engaged, that I had a family to come home to. I thought about how long I'd fought with myself that proposing to her was the right step. Even as I did it, even on the island as I'd dropped to my knees, I'd thought momentarily about saying I'd tripped on a rock. Maybe I had no right to be mad at her, maybe she wasn't the only one that had betrayed the relationship we had. Maybe it was nothing but a ghost to begin with.

"Matthew's a great kid," Brian said, as we idled at the red light in front of the Veteran's Hospital behind the Children's Hospital.

I looked over at him and he looked back. "Yeah," I said. I took a deep breath. I didn't know what to say because I wasn't entirely sure I knew what I was thinking, and all I got out was, "Brian... I..."

"I know," he said, interrupting me. He smiled in a reassuring way.

Somehow I just knew that he did know, even though I wasn't positive that I knew. But Brian did and that was enough.

It was funny having Brian there beside me, funny how fast things change. Less than two weeks ago I'd been complaining to Lauren about Brian and the Berlin-Wall-esque separation that had been erected between the two of us, and now here I was with Brian, thinking about the separation between Lauren and I.

"I missed ya Frick," I mumbled into the dark.

He patted my shoulder in response.

The light turned green and I drove away from Vanderbilt, away from Abbey, and further and further away from Lauren, my foot heavy on the pedal. We crisscrossed through the numbered streets until we ended up on the parkway, wrapping around the north end of the city, headed south.

My phone was vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and handed it to Brian. "I got a text, can you read it?"

He pressed a couple buttons. "It's from Abbey. She says all she wants for Christmas is for all of us to be happy and she hopes you know that." Brian looked over at me in the dark, like he was waiting for an answer to send her.

I didn't feel like I could ever be happy again. It didn't really feel possible to be. I let out a low breath and chewed on my lip for a moment.

We were coming up on the Opryland Hotel, which is absolutely gigantic. It's bigger than the huge-ass mall that sits right behind it, looming off the side of the highway like a monster of grandeur. The hotel does this big fantastic light show in their halls every year, with this giant display you can see from the highway as you pass. My eyes wandered toward the lights, glowing in the dark and I thought about how they shone like hope, and this weird Christmasy feeling creeped over me, like I was Ebenezer Scrooge or something, and I felt, for just a moment, like maybe everything would be okay in the end.

That's the magic of Christmas, I thought.

"She wants to know if you're okay," Brian read a second text message aloud as the car sped by the hotel and the lights glimmered in my rearview mirrors.

"I have an idea," I suddenly said.

Brian looked over.

"Tell her I'll text her in the morning. We gotta go to Walmart."

"Walmart?" Brian looked surprised as he typed the message.

"Yeah," I said. "There's something I need to do."

Chapter Twenty-Four / 2013


Nick

"I think you've officially gone insane," Brian said.

I stared down the ladder at him and wiggled my fingers. "Maybe," I replied, "But either way, hand me that stapler."

Brian glanced at the door of the next apartment over. "You don't think we should wait for morning at least?" he asked.

"If we wait, they'll be home, and it won't be a surprise, will it?"

He held up the stapler.

I'd driven to the 24-hour Walmart and spent the next several hours pawing through the Christmas section until I'd managed to spend over a hundred dollars on lights, a wreath, and decorations... and the stuff I needed to put them up before Matty and Abbey got home.

I took the stapler, and the ladder wobbled. Brian grabbed on to steady it. "Will you please be careful?" he begged, "I don't feel like explaining this to the EMTs when we have to call an ambulance to get your skull put back together."

"I'm okay," I said, "I ain't gonna fall." The ladder wobbled again and I grabbed onto the railing of the balcony over Abbey's before I could slip. "Just... hold this thing steady," I added, and I turned to the building, holding the lights along the bottom of the balcony edge and started stapling. I leaned and Brian prayed quietly below me, watching as I worked.

"Why are you doing this again?" he asked as I turned what was actually a fall into a graceful leap from the ladder to the ground. "Why aren't you waiting until daylight when it isn't like ten degrees out and you can see what you're doing up there?"

I stepped back from the balcony to look at my handiwork. It was a little crooked, but once the lights were lit, surely it wouldn't be that obvious... "Because, it's gotta be a surprise. I don't know how early they'll discharge him, and I want them up before they get home." I said, "Christmas is a time to hope and to start fresh and all that Charles Dickens kind of crap. That's what everyone needs. It's what Abbey needs, it's what Matty needs, it's what I need."

Brian nodded.

"Do you see an outlet?" I asked. I grabbed an extension cord and walked around the side of the building. There was an outlet along the side of the building, and with a quick push, the lights lit up, sending their colorful glows across the dry grass in front of Abbey and Matty's balcony. I stepped back onto the walkway and stared at the lights, hanging down in just de-rubberbanded strands from the frame of the porch. I sighed. "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

Brian tilted his head, "They're a little crooked," he replied.

I took a deep breath. "I've never done this before Brian," I said.

"It's only a little evident," he answered. "Nobody's gonna notice they're crooked, don't worry."

I stared up at the lights. "No, I mean, the whole Christmas thing with, like, a family? My family was always so fucked up we never did holidays right." I looked at him. "It's okay if it's not like in the story books, right? 'Cos I don't know how to make it like the story books."

Brian nodded, "It's almost better if it's not like in the story books," he answered. "Millions of holiday movies have been created on that exact premise. Just look at the Griswolds or Ralphie. None of them are conventional or traditional." He turned back to the lights. "It's better if some of your icicle lights are a little crooked." He patted my back.

"I just don't wanna mess this up. I might only get one shot at this, you know?" I said. Brian turned to look at me. I squinted at the lights. They looked a little fuzzy around the edges. "I mean, I ruined the best relationship I ever had."

"You didn't do it, Nick, she did," Brian answered.

"I just don't wanna ruin things anymore," I said.

"You don't ruin things." Brian waved his hand at the balcony. "Does that look like the work of someone who ruins things? That looks like the work of someone who's doing his very best and has had a tough life but still believes in the good."

"I try to," I said.

"You succeed."

I stared down at the stapler still in my hand. I could feel my throat tightening up. I grabbed another box of lights and ripped them open. "Well. We're only half done here."

Brian grabbed hold on the ladder and I climbed up it.




Abbey

I was excited and nervous both as I signed the last of Matty's discharge papers, and the mixture just grew and swirled around inside me more and more as I pulled my car up to the front doors and Matty waved goodbye to Monica after she helped me buckle him into the backseat, his little heart monitor watch gleaming in the morning sunlight. Phil stood with his walker in the door way, too, and he saluted Matty and Matty saluted back.

Driving through downtown Nashville felt strangely dangerous with my son in the backseat for the first time in awhile. I clutched the wheel and every pump of the brakes felt like a near accident. I kept glancing back at him in the rearview mirror, making sure he was still there and upright and breathing and everything was okay. He had a big smile on his face as he stared out the window, calling hello to familiar landmarks, like the giant flowers in front of the Frist or the statue of Billy Graham or LP Field or the Marriott hotel or the airport. He pressed his hands against the window and stared out a the stray cats that littered the yard of the apartment buildings and squealed in excitement as ours came into view.

My jaw dropped.

There were lights. Glowing lights hanging from the balcony and framing our sliding porch door. There was a wreath on the door with a big red ribbon that hung nearly to the floor. Matty battled with the buckle on his seat as I turned off the car. "Look, mommy, look!" he shouted. The buckle banged into place and he leaped from the car, running around to the door.

I jumped out, too, as he pranced around our porch area. He waved his arms and sniffed the wreath and jumped up and down, "Look! LOOK!" he shouted, pointing.

In the wreath was an Elf on the Shelf with a little Post-it note in his hand.

"WHAT'S THE NOTE SAY?" Matty cried, "I can't reach it."

I plucked the note out of the little elf's hand. "Hi Matty," I read, "My name is Jeraldo and I am your assigned Elf. Santa told me to come watch over you. I wanted to make sure your house looked extra Christmasy this year. I hope you like it. Make sure you don't touch me though, or the magic will go out of me. I'll leave you another note tomorrow. 'Til then... Jeraldo."

Matty's eyes were huge.

I stared at the note.

"When did you do this?" Matty asked me, but even as he asked the question, I could tell he didn't think I'd done it. Which I hadn't. I had a feeling I knew who had, though. I glanced around for evidence, but he wasn't anywhere around.

"I didn't do it," I answered.

Matty stared at the elf in the wreath. "But I thought Santa wasn't real? Those other kids at the hospital, they said he wasn't, they said the presents come from our parents."

I shrugged. "Maybe those kids are wrong," I answered.

Matty stared up at me.

It suddenly seemed so very important that Matty believe in Santa because believing in Santa was like believing in miracles, believing in hope. I thought of Miracle on 34th Street and the big trial for Kris Kringle and my heart ached that I'd allowed, for even a moment, that Matty stop believing in something as special as Santa Claus.

"He must be real," Matty concluded, staring up at the elf. "If you didn't put him there, who else could've?"

I looked around at the lights, glowing colors all around us. The scent of the greens wafted from the wreath and even though there was no snow on the ground, everything felt magical and pretty, like Christmas should feel.

"Well, let's go inside," I said, "It's cold out here. We'll make some hot chocolate and we'll get you settled in."

"I wanna look at the lights," Matty argued. "And Jeraldo."

"You can see the lights from the couch. And this guy can come inside with us."

I reached for the elf but Matty freaked out, grabbing my elbow, "Don't!!!" he cried, "The magic, it'll leave. Don't de-magic the elf mom!"

"Okay.. okay.. I'm sorry.." I held my hands up, "I'm sorry."

Matty stared up at the elf. I handed him the note and he clutched it, holding it in his little hands. I trudged back to the car, popping the hatchback and pulling out the backpack and one cardboard box of books and toys and various other stuff of Matty's that had collected at the hospital over the week. Gator balanced precariously on top. "C'mon," I called to him from the door. He was still standing on the little patio.

"Bye Jeraldo," he whispered, and he scampered toward me, glancing over his shoulder at the little elf laying in the cradle of the wreath on the door.

I'd never seen him so enchanted by something like that before.

He even checked the window from the inside to see if he could see Jeraldo, and sure enough,he could. I took a picture of him staring up at the wreath and the little elf, framed by Christmas lights at the door. "Think he was there all night?" Matty asked, glancing back at me. The picture snapped just as he turned back and caught the gleam of excitement in his eyes. I smiled.

"Maybe we caught him in the act," I suggested.

"Oooh yeah," Matty said. "They have to sit real still if you catch'em, right?" He turned back to the window. "OH MY GOD I THINK HE MOVED A LITTLE WHEN I WASN'T LOOKING! Mommy, look. Do you think he did?"

I smirked. Jeraldo had certainly turned on Matty's imagination. I headed to the window to inspect the elf's positioning. As I walked across the room, I sent the picture to Nick, and all I wrote beneath it was, I know what you did last night... thank you.

Chapter Twenty-Five / 2013... and a little glimpse at 1986


Abbey

Matty spent most of the day taking peeks at Jeraldo through the window. He'd be playing quietly with his Iron Man and Incredible Hulk action figures on the floor and he'd suddenly jump up, run over to the window and stand on his tippy-toes to see if Jeraldo was still there, then he'd go back to playing. I felt like I was doing the same thing with my text message inbox. I kept pulling my phone out of my pocket and opening the messaging screen to make sure I hadn't somehow missed anything from Nick.

"Think we should bring a blanket out to Jeraldo?" Matty asked at bedtime. It was a little windy outside and the wreath rocked gently side-to-side.

I helped him pick out a warm-ish looking hand towel from the closet and he followed me outside, holding a flashlight, to deliver the "blanket" to Jeraldo. "Careful not to touch him, mommy," he reminded me as I delicately tucked the little elf in with the towel. "We just wanna keep him warm, not make the magic go out."

"I'm being extra careful. Night, night Jeraldo," I said, "Sleep tight. Don't let the... wreath bugs bite."

Matty grinned up at me. "Stay warm. If you want to come inside, you can. Right mommy? He can come inside if he wants?"

"Sure he can," I answered.

"Night Jeraldo," Matty called, and we went back inside. Matty inspected my tucking job from the window. "He looks warmer," he decided. "He looks like he's smiling now."

"He does," I agreed.

Matty crawled under his blankets and kicked his legs to loosen the sheets around him. I tucked in around his little body and he grinned up at me. "You're good at tucking people and elves in, I bet Jeraldo thinks so too." He snuggled into his pillows.

"I've had six years of practice," I answered. I sat down on the bed beside him and smoothed his hair away from his eyes. "I'm glad you're home," I told him.

"Me too," he answered.

I picked up the book he'd picked out from his shelf and started reading to him about a rainbow scaled fish when there was a knock on the door. I looked at the clock next to Matty's bed. It was almost eight-thirty. "Who in the world --" I got up.

"Maybe it's Jeraldo," Matty suggested.

"Maybe." I had a feeling he was right, in a way... "Here, hold our place. I'll be right back." I handed the book to Matty and he hugged it to his chest.

I looked through the peephole and there was a fish-eye view of Nick. I glanced at the sliding doors to see the elf was gone from the wreath. I smirked, and pulled the door open, "Hey," I whispered, "Matty's about to go to sleep. He thinks you're the elf coming in from the cold."

Nick held up Jeraldo, his eyes sparkling, nose red from the chill outside. "He does?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "He made me go outside earlier and tuck it in with that towel." I pointed at the hand cloth Nick had in his hands with Jeraldo. Nick laughed. "Let me get him the rest of the way to sleep and I'll come back out."

"Okay," Nick whispered. He stood there in the living room, shedding his coat and a knit hat he'd pulled over his hair, as I snuck back into Matty's bedroom.

Matty looked up expectantly as I closed the bedroom door behind me. "Well? Who was it?"

"Jeraldo," I replied.

Matty's eyes went wide. "Really?"

I nodded. "He's inside now, so you don't have to worry about him being cold anymore. I told him he could sleep wherever he'd like."

"That's so cool," Matty said with awe in his voice. "So, so cool."

I nodded, and I took the book back from his chest where he'd laid it. He smiled happily, thinking of Jeraldo. "Now where were we..." I mumbled and I searched out the exact line we'd been on and continued reading about the rainbow fish, but I don't think Matty heard a word I said about the fish or it's scales or anything else, he was too entranced with the thought of a real elf sleeping in his living room. And he was asleep before the end of the book.

I slid the book back on the shelf on my way out and whispered good night from the door as I pulled it closed behind me.

When I turned around, Nick was standing in the hallway in the dark. I jumped in surprise -- I hadn't expected him there. I thought he was out in the living room still. "Oh God, you scared me," I hissed.

He held a finger up over his lips and we went back out to the living room. "I wanted to hear the story," he said.

"So where's Jeraldo?" I asked. Nick pointed up. I looked. Jeraldo was sitting on one of the blades of the ceiling fan, a post-it note hung from his hand, the towel laid over the elf's back. I laughed, "The ceiling fan?"

"Seems as elfish a place as any," he replied. "Besides, half the fun is trying to figure out where the elf is in the morning."

"You sound like you've done this before," I said. "Do you want a drink?" I led the way to the kitchen.

Nick followed me. "I don't need to stay, I just had to come over to move Jeraldo. I wasn't sure if you knew to move him or not and... stuff..."

I opened the fridge, "You're welcome to hang out for a bit."

"Okay."




Nick

Abbey and I sat on her couch with our cans of Sprite she pulled from the fridge and she turned the TV on low. I ran my finger tip around the lip of the can. I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to talk, but everything I thought of to say seemed lame.

"Thank you again, for the lights and Jeraldo. You should've seen the look on his face. He kept running to the door all day to check on the elf." Abbey laughed and glanced up at the ceiling fan.

"Jeraldo's the only thing about Christmas I remember being truly excited about every year," I said. I sipped my Sprite. I smiled, "When I was Matty's age, we used to spend a week in upstate New York at my grandparent's house and Jeraldo was the name of the elf at my grandmother's house and she used to move him every night while we were in bed into the funniest places and we'd all wake up and it was like a race who would find Jeraldo first."

Abbey laughed, "Aw..."

"The best was mornings when we got up and he'd been into mischief," I laughed, "We'd find him doing stuff like trying to pick up sugar that he'd spilled or a big mess of toilet paper in the bathroom and he'd be all wrapped up in the middle of it, and only my grandmother could pick him up to move him somewhere safe because elves are allergic to children."

"So I hear," Abbey said, "Apparently the magic goes out of them."

I nodded solemnly.

Abbey laughed.

"I just thought it'd be something fun," I said.

"Well thank you," Abbey replied.

I nodded.

"So..." she said slowly.

I took a deep breath. I knew what she was asking with the so. "I talked to Lauren," I confessed. Abbey shifted so she was facing me. "She didn't deny it. It was kind of my fault, it's a long story. Bri and I came out and did all this last night after I talked to her. I just needed some space to think and stuff, you know? So anyways, Brian went back to Atlanta, he had some family stuff he had to take care of." I stared at my hands. "I'm staying at a hotel tonight."

"She's still at your house?" Abbey asked.
I nodded.

"Why isn't she the one at the hotel?" Abbey demanded, "She cheats on you, and you let her have the house? Nick, that's not fair. Let her go stay with what's-his-face, the Game Stop guy."

"Travis," I supplied.

"Yeah, him."

"I didn't wanna throw her out," I answered, "I just... I just needed some space, that's all."

"Don't tell me you're gonna go back to her after she's done this to you?" Abbey asked.

I shrugged. "I dunno, I mean... like I said, it was partly my fault, I wasn't there, I wasn't all in the relationship, you know, I was holding back, and --"

"That's not an excuse, Nick," Abbey said, "She should've broken up with you if that's what her issue was, not sleep around behind your back."

"Well, yeah.. I guess, but --"

"No buts, Nick, she shouldn't have done that to you."

"But I love her and if I can fix this somehow, I need to," I said, "Because I made a commitment, when I asked her to marry me. To me, I might as well be married already, I feel that way and I need to honor the relationship like that. I can't just run off and divorce her because we hit a rough patch."

"Cheating on you is more than a rough patch," Abbey replied.

She was right. I knew a part of me at least agreed with what she was saying. The other part wanted to just erase it from my memory, to go back to Lauren and pretend nothing had happened between us, and try to work on making things better. I felt conflicted. I stood up. "I better go," I said, "It's almost ten and I'm tired and I'm sure you're tired and I only came over to move the elf anyway."

Abbey got up. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be sorry," I answered. "I know stuff like this is hard to understand from the outside and you're just trying to help me, I get it."

Abbey sighed.

"If you need me, you've got my cell number. Or you can call me. I'm staying at the Holiday Inn down the street. Room 864."

Abbey nodded.

"Night," I said.

I drove back to the hotel feeling frustrated. I didn't know what I wanted or what I should do about Lauren. I got up to my hotel room and laid on the bed in the dark, listening to the sounds of traffic outside and staring up at the bumps in the ceiling, missing the feeling of the weight of someone else there in the bed with me, missing the warmth of her feet by mine, missing the smell of her hair and her perfume in the sheets and on the pillows. To get to sleep, I closed my eyes and I hugged one of the pillows and I pressed my nose into it, imagining the scent of her hair, imagining the feeling of her body...

It was as I was dropping off to sleep that I realized the woman I was imagining beside me may not have been Lauren.

Chapter Twenty-Six / 2013


Nick

I got about three hours of sleep that night for a combined total of maybe five hours over the past seventy-two hours. When I woke up the last time at about six, I wanted so bad to just roll over and go back to sleep but even as I tried the world set out to stop me. Hotel room doors slammed and kids ran through the hallway, parents shouted at their heavy-footed children, and water hissed and hummed through the walls, carrying hot water to various showers. Plus, in my mind, behind my eyelids, ran a continuously looping video of Lauren fucking the brains right out of Travis. In my house. In my bed. In front of my dog.

It was the thought of poor Nacho cocking his head as he watched Lauren's naked, sweaty body writhe beneath Travis's lumpy ass that made me get up. If for nothing else, I had to get out of bed to save my dog. I threw on the same clothes I'd been wearing since I left the house and drove down the 65 to Cool Springs. Every turn that brought me closer to Lauren made my stomach churn all the harder. When I pulled up in the driveway and saw hers wasn't the only car on the cobblestones, I felt like throwing up.

I got out of the car and walked up the path, my fingers clutching my keys, and I opened the door. My hope was that Nacho would come running out an all I'd have to do is scoop him up and run for it. But he didn't come to the sound of the door opening. I stood there awkwardly in my own hallway, feeling like an unwanted, unexpected guest in my own house. I swallowed and stepped in further.

"Nacho," I called out, desperately hoping that I would be able to locate the pug before Lauren ever realized I'd been there.

I heard thumping on the steps and I looked up to see Nacho rushing down them, his little stubby tail whirling in circles in excitement. I crouched down as he reached the bottom step and scrambled over to me, his tongue lolling out. Then Lauren's shadow fell across the carpet and I realized she was there behind him, reaching the last step as Nacho arrived in my grasp. I wrapped my arms around him and picked him up, hoisting him onto my hip for leverage.

"Nick. You're here," Lauren said, surprise in her voice.

I shook my head, "I'm not staying."

She didn't even make a motion to stop me.

"I'm taking Nacho."


"Nick," Lauren said, "We need to talk. Please. I don't want to lose --" There was a creak at the top of the staircase and I looked up. At the top, Travis was just coming around the corner of the hallway, rubbing his hair with a towel. My towel. Around his waist hung another of my towels. I made a mental note that those towels were trash.

I stared up at him.

"Babe, you really blew my mind in there, I've never been so turned on in my entire --" Travis stopped mid-sentence upon spotting me and he stood there, all hairy-chested and wide-eyed for a long moment before turning and rushing back down the hall the way he'd come.

Lauren glanced back from having turned to look at him, too, and her face was as red as anything.

"I need you out of here by the end of the week," I said, and I turned toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Lauren demanded.

"What does it matter to you?"

"Was I right?" she asked.

I turned away without answering, grabbed the knob of the door, and carried Nacho out across the lawn to the car. Lauren followed me. "You went there, didn't you?" she shouted across the lawn, "You went there because that's where you belong, with her."

"Stop martyring yourself," I yelled. I opened the car door and shoved Nacho in. "You're not going to make me feel guilty for going to see my kid. My kid, Lauren. It's the right thing to do, being there for him. I'm not the one that broke us. You are. So stop acting like I've wronged you somehow 'cos I ain't done nothin'."

And I hadn't. I truly hadn't.

Lauren was standing about halfway down the walkway in bare feet. It was pretty cold outside, cold enough I could see my breath in the morning light. The sun was up but it hadn't quite struck the lawn yet. Lauren and Travis's cars both had frost on the windshields. It was as I turned back from he door after closing Nacho in that I realized Lauren was wearing a pair of boxers - not mine - and an old Journey t-shirt - my old Journey t-shirt. My throat ached at the visual reminder that she was both with him and with me at the same time.

As I was reaching for the driver-side door, Lauren asked, "Nick. If I hadn't cheated... if she hadn't shown up in our lives... would you have still married me in March?"

I stared at her over the roof of the car. "I asked you to marry me, didn't I?" I demanded.

Lauren wrapped her arms around herself to block the cold. "Yeah. But... you were gone from this relationship way before your kid became a part of the equation." She took a deep breath and sighed it back out, the air turning to a cloud all around her. "You stopped being fifty percent of 'us' before you even proposed. A diamond was like glue you were using to put us back together."

"Maybe I was," I replied. "I don't know. But at least I tried to fix it instead of taking a fucking hammer to it." I shrugged, then, before she could say anything more, I got in the car and I left Lauren there on the front lawn in Travis's underwear.




Abbey

I caught Matty trying to throw tater tots onto the fan when I returned to the dining room after leaving to refill his milk glass during lunch. "Jeraldo looked hungry," Matty explained, staring up at the blades overhead as I picked several tots up from the carpet with a paper towel. "I'm a bad thrower."

"Jeraldo can get his own food," I answered, "I'm sure he eats during the night or something." I put the tots into the trash bin. "Let's not throw our food, okay?"

"Okay," Matty agreed.

There was a knocking at the door and I pushed Matty's glass of milk to him and went to answer it. After glancing through the peephole, I opened the door up for Nick, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets. "Hey Nick," I said, stepping back to allow him into the apartment. I smiled, trying to look reassuring because he looked down.

"Hey," he said. His eyes swiveled to Matty. "Hey buddy, how're you?"

"I'm good," Matty answered. Then he glanced up at Jeraldo. "Thank you for asking," he added politely, "How are you?"

Nick glanced up at the ceiling fan, "Whoaaaa... is that an elf?" he asked.

Matty nodded enthusiastically. "That's Jeraldo, he's an elf from the north pole and he's making sure I'm not being naughty. He's funny. He came yesterday. He put up all them lights on our porch!"

"No way," Nick replied. "That's insanely cool. What's he doing on the fan?"

"I dunno," Matty answered, "Sleeping, it looks. He sleeps during the day. I think he might be nop-turtle."

Nick blinked trying to figure out the last word. "Nocturnal," I supplied. Nick's face dawned with realization.

He smiled, "Well, I'd imagine he'd feel kinda jetlagged if he's from the north pole. I sleep a lot when I get somewhere after traveling too." Matty stared up at the elf and absently nibbled on the tuna melt sandwich I'd made him. Nick glanced at me. "Can I talk to you a second?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied. I turned to Matty, "You finish your lunch. I'm going to talk to Nick out here in the living room a second."

"Uh huh..." Matty was still staring up at the elf, evidently imagining him flying to our house from the north pole or something, fully distracted. I probably could've danced around in a chicken suit and the kid wouldn't have noticed it.

Nick and I ducked out to the living room. "What's up?" I asked, trying to stay light hearted. Nick's face looked fallen now that Matty was in the other room, and I noticed the bags under his eyes, the redness to them. He looked exhausted.

He sighed. "I have an immense favor to ask you, and it's okay if you say no. I'll figure something out, but --" Nick was staring at his hands. "I went home this morning to get - to get something - and Lauren was wearing his boxers... and... I took my dog home with me, and the hotel doesn't allow dogs and --" He looked at me with pleading eyes.

I'd seen pictures of the dog - a fat pug named Nacho.

"I need somewhere to keep him until I can get home. Just until the end of the week. I told her I want her out by then."

"He can stay here," I said.

Nick's eyes lit up with relief, "Really?"

I nodded. Then I added, "For that matter, if you don't mind the couch, so can you."

He blinked in surprise.

We both stood there in this weird silence that fell between us. I wasn't sure why it was weird, why there was a silence falling there. It was like an awkward pause, but I wasn't sure why. After all, I hadn't suggested anything too weird, had I? He was a friend - the father of my son - and I was offering him to stay on my couch for a week with his dog until he could get back into his own house. Why would that be awkward?

Because of the tension, I thought, remembering the sexual electricity that had passed between us outside of the hospital on Friday. It seemed like an eternity ago, so much had happened since that moment, but it still hung there between us at the suggestion of him sleeping over.

But it made sense, I argued with myself. Matty would love it, that was for sure. And the project of moving Jeraldo around would become far easier for him to do. And then he could have a place to be with Nacho and I wouldn't have to take care of the dog. It would only be until Lauren got out of the house at the end of the week.

I voiced all these perks to him, counting them off on my fingers as I spoke, "There's a huge pros list," I concluded.

"You're sure?" he asked, "I wouldn't be putting y'all out?"

"Of course not," I replied. "It'd be nice to have a man around the house for a couple days."

"I can pay you," he said.

"Stop being silly," I answered.

"I'll pay you what I'm paying at the hotel."

"Nick, seriously. You're my friend. You're staying here. It's not a hotel." He had his wallet out already. He hesitated and slipped it away in his pocket again at my persistence. "Where's Nacho now?" I asked.

"In the car," he replied. "I'll go get him."

I nodded. "You might have trouble getting him away from Matty when you leave," I laughed.

Nick laughed, too.

When he went outside, Matty asked me, "Where's Mr. Nick going?"

I took a deep breath and sat at the table. "Nick's going to get his stuff. He's going to stay with us for a couple days, is that okay with you?"

"Like a sleepover?"

"Exactly," I replied.

Matty's eyes got wide. "This is gonna be so cool."

Chapter Twenty-Seven / 2013


Abbey

When Nick let Nacho loose in the apartment, I thought Matty was going to implode. Jeraldo and lunch were both instantly forgotten as Matty slid off his chair to the floor to greet the dog, his eyes wide with excitement. "You brought your dog for the sleep over!" he cried as Nacho rushed over, tongue lolling out. Matty let out a peal of laughter as Nacho's tongue swiped across his cheeks.

Nick knelt down on the floor so his back was against the couch, only a couple feet from Matty and Nacho. "Well he sure likes you," Nick commented with a laugh as Nacho's tail practically spun off his body.

"I like you too," Matty informed the dog. He looked at Nick. "You should sleep in my room!" he suggested.

Nick laughed.

"You should! I have really cool action figures. Wait here." He got up and he rushed down the hallway, the dog chasing after him.

"Inside feet!" I shouted at him as his heels thundered on the floor, and he slowed down. I sighed and looked at Nick. "He's always wanted a dog," I said.

"I think Nacho's always wanted a kid, so it works out," Nick answered.

It felt weird, having Nick Carter in my living room. I couldn't help but stare at him for how out of place he looked against the pale beige of my carpet. He looked radiant there, a magnificent thing amongst the rubble of a mundane life. I looked away before he could catch me staring at him, though I'm pretty sure he knew. He tugged on the hood strings of his sweatshirt.

"Thanks, by the way," he said awkwardly.

"It's no problem," I answered.

I had a feeling it came out as equally awkward.

Matty came thundering back down the hallway. "Inside feet," I reminded him again and he slowed down, Nacho hopping along beside him. He had his arms in a big hug around a good portion of the super heroes that had stood watch from his window sill moments before. He dumped them on Nick's lap like they were an offering and looked up at him.

Nick looked down at the toys. "Wow, that's a lot of action figures," he said.

Matty nodded, "It sure is!"

Nick picked up a Captain America doll. "Who's your favorite?" he asked. Matty picked up Iron Man and held him up. "Good choice," Nick answered. "He's one of my favorites too. But c'mon dude, nobody can beat Superman."

"Batman can," Matty answered.

"I dunno about that," Nick answered.

Matty nodded, "Batman lives in a cave. Kryptonite is in caves. Batman's suit might have kryptonite dust stuck to it. Then he'd win."

"You, sir, are very good at debates," Nick said. He leaned forward, picking up two figures from the floor. "How do you feel about a Spiderman-versus-Hulk situation?"

I rolled my eyes and headed out to the kitchen to clean up. Nacho had found one of the stray tater tots from Matty's earlier escapades with the elf on the ceiling fan and he was munching it happily under the table. I picked up the left overs of Matty's lunch and started loading the dish washer. I could hear the two boys discussing superhero showdowns in the other room still. It sounded like Nick was forgetting he was arguing with a little kid about this and I pictured what it must be like on the Backstreet Boys' tour bus for a moment with five boys talking about goofy shit like who would beat who in a battle to the death.

Once the kitchen was clean, I went out to sit with them while they played. Matty gave me a running commentary on what was happening, telling me the story the boys were acting out with the figures. It didn't make a lot of sense to me, but they were certainly having fun at it. I could hear Nick's voice getting lighter and lighter as he played with Matty and the action figures, and slowly the nervous lines on his forehead melted away and the smile on his face started to reach his eyes.

Yet again, Matty is the one doing the saving, I thought to myself.

The boys kept busy for most of the afternoon, until I turned on the TV and a Christmas movie was on and Matty's concentration broke. He crawled up onto the couch and waved for Nick to follow. "Sit on this side of me," he directed, snuggling up to me and patting the cushion on the other side of him for Nick. Nick sat down and glanced over at me, his eyes a little nervous as he sat there, stiff and uncomfortable. Matty snaked his arm around Nick's waist so he was half-hugging both of us.

"This is a good one," he said, "Have you seen it?"

It was the Night Before Christmas, the one with the mouse who breaks the clock and the Trundles and all that. "It's one of my favorites," Nick answered.

"Me, too," Matty answered. "I like the mouse with the big glasses." He giggled. "It's funny because mice don't wear glasses."

Nick laughed, "Maybe they do. What about all the near-sighted mice, huh?"

"I've never saw a mouse with glasses on," Matty replied, still giggling.

"Maybe they wear contacts now," Nick answered.

Matty squealed. "Nuh uh!"

"Yeah maybe," Nick said, "I mean, this movie came out before any of us were even born."

"Even you?"

"Yup."

"Even my mom?"

I looked down at him, "Hey, mister. Nick's older than me."

Matty looked up at Nick. "That's a old movie."

Nick nodded.

We watched Christmas movies until it was time for dinner and because I didn't feel like exposing poor Nick to my cooking, we ordered a pizza, which Nick insisted he would pay for. Because of our heart-healthy diet, Matty rarely got pizza. Between Nick's presence, Nacho laying across his lap, the Christmas movies talking up presents and Santa and elves (which kept him glancing back at Jeraldo), and the pizza guy ringing the door bell, Matty was through the roof excited. By the time bedtime came, he could barely sit still.

"Say goodnight to Nick," I directed him.

Matty looked up at Nick, "Goodnight, Nick," he offered.

"Night buddy," Nick answered.

Matty looked down at Nacho. "Goodnight, Nacho."

"He'll probably sleep on your bed if you'd like him to," Nick said. Nacho was laying on his back across Matty's lap still.

"Really?" Matty asked.

Nick nodded. "Just carry him in carefully and he'll probably just stay asleep like that."

"Can I mom?" Matty looked at me.

"If Nick's okay with it."

Matty wrapped his arms carefully around the bulging mass of Nacho's body and got up, sliding off the couch to his feet. Nacho's eyes opened but he didn't try to get away or anything, and Matty carried him off to his bedroom. I turned to Nick, "I'll be out once he's asleep," I said, "Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," he answered. But he sat on the couch like he was very far from home and he rubbed his hands across his knees as he stared up at me, smiling awkwardly.

"MOM! HURRY UP!" Matty yelled.

I smiled, "I'll be out right after he falls asleep."




Nick

I sat there on the couch, staring around the room at all the little artifacts of life that were laying around. Little knick-knacks, DVDs, pictures on walls. I moved a couple magazines around on the coffee table. Mostly they were Zoo Books and Highlights and a couple coloring books mixed in. On the shelf under the TV was a box of 96 crayons with the built in sharpener. I opened one of the coloring books and flipped through the pages. Most of them were filled in, the colors spilling over the lines in a couple places, but mostly neat. There were pictures of dinosaurs and dogs and trucks all filled in all nice and neat and stuff.

I stared at one of the issues of Zoo Books, one on Sharks, and I thought about how much Matty was like I was when I was six years old. It was crazy, considering I hadn't been around, how much of the same things interested us, how much he looked like me, how strong the DNA link had remained, despite the distance. I wondered what he would think of me once he knew the truth, if he'd ask why I hadn't been around, if he'd still like me the way he did now or if I would become a stranger to him, someone who lied to him and abandoned him for most of his life.

I was thinking about that still when Abbey came back from his room. "I thought he'd never fall asleep," she laughed. She dropped onto the couch and let out a sigh of relief, falling back into the cushion. She looked over at me. "You okay?"

I nodded.

"You look... nervous."

I took a deep breath and stood up, walking out to the dining room and took Jeraldo off the ceiling fan's blade. I unfolded the little elf's legs and stared at him laying in the palm of my hand. "Where should I put Jeraldo tonight?" I asked.

Abbey got up and came out and stared at Jeraldo in my hands. "Somewhere that he could be eating something," she said. Then she told me about Matty and his tater tots he was slinging up at the ceiling fan before I came over, and I laughed. We went to the kitchen carrying the elf and set up an elaborate thing where he was sitting in the bottom shelf eating a carrot stick he was dipping in a pool of ranch dressing he'd knocked over, leaning against an over-sized squash. Abbey laughed, "Such a mischievous elf, always getting into things."

"They do that, elves," I said.

Abbey closed the refrigerator door and turned to face me and found I was closer than she'd expected. She put her hand on my chest to balance herself, and looked up at me with wide eyes. She backed away slowly. I wanted to stop her from backing away. I wanted to hold her palm to my chest and softly pull her back into me. I wanted to smell her and feel the electricity pass between us again, like it had outside of the hospital. I wanted to make Lauren right, to make it so I'd lost all those things we'd had between us for a reason, to justify the break-up, to feel less betrayed, less alone.

So I did it.

My mouth landed squarely on Abbey's mouth and she took a sharp intake of breath in surprise, her eyes wide, then gently dropping closed as I slid my hands from her hand to her chin and up the sides of her head to gently cup her face in my palms.

It was like... magic... or... something... Like the blessing to a prayer I didn't know I'd uttered, an answer to a question I hadn't yet asked. She fit perfectly - as perfectly as I remembered her fitting from seven years ago. My heart raced in my chest and I felt dizzy, but I didn't want to break away, didn't want to shatter the spell.

Then she did.

She pulled away, backing right into the counter of the sink. She stared up at me, her fingertips touching her lips softly where we'd been connected. Her eyes were wide and glistening. I couldn't read the expression she had on her face.

"Sorry," I said quietly.

"Thank you," she squeaked, and without further words, she rushed out of the room, down the hallway, and a moment later I heard what I assumed was her bedroom door slamming shut.

I stood there, dumbfounded, wondering what the hell I'd done.

Chapter Twenty-Eight / 2013


Nick

I fell asleep on the couch. I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep until I woke up during the night to the feeling of a blanket being laid over me and tucked in on my side. I peeked through my eyelashes, being careful not to let myself be seen peeking. I closed my eyes again and I felt a soft touch, pushing my hair away from my forehead.

I opened my eyes and looked up at her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you up." She held up a pillow, "Lift your head up, sweetie."

I did, and she slid the pillow under my head, fluffed it just a little, then motioned for me to lay my head back down. The pillow was soft and felt immensely better than just the plain couch. "I realized I had run off without giving you any blankets or pillows or nothin'..." she said quietly.

"Yeah well, I kissed you without giving you any warning or nothing," I replied.

Abbey's cheeks turned slightly pink. She reached around me and tucked the blanket in around me into the crevices in the back of the couch. "Sleep tight," she whispered.

"Thanks."

She nodded, then started to walk away. She only took three steps before she turned back and knelt down on the carpet by my head. She stared at me for a long moment through the darkness, the Christmas lights hanging out on the balcony glowed through the window, illuminating her softly. She licked her lips, hesitating.

"What is it?" I asked quietly.

"It's just --" she paused, looked down at the couch cushion a moment, then leaned in a kissed me. One of those tiny, tingly type kisses that last but a second. A peck, really. And then another... and another... our lips barely pressing together. She hung there, her mouth just hovering over my own, our eyes locked, then leaned in and kissed me again, a little longer this time... and again... and again... each time lingering longer and longer, like she was heating up or something. I just kept my chin leaned up and let her kiss me, my senses all rushing to the nerve endings in my lips.

Then she stopped.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She got up. "Goodnight," she added, and she scampered away down the hallway again. I heard the bedroom door close behind her.

I lay there, my mouth tingling, my body's blood flow redirected to my crotch, my heart pounding, ears practically ringing. I took a deep breath and let it out all slow-like and rolled over onto my stomach, tugging the blanket onto my shoulders to my chin. I stared out at the Christmas lights. In the distant dark, I could see a plane coming in to land at the airport behind her apartments. My crotch felt like it was struggling to breathe, she'd turned me on then dumped me here. I felt like a twelve year old staring up at a poster on my ceiling of Signourey Weaver.

I wanted to go after her, but I didn't think it'd be appropriate. Obviously she was conflicted and confused - just as much so as I probably should've been, considering I was the one just emerging from something as serious as Lauren and I had been. And it's not that I wasn't confused or conflicted it was just one of those weird things that you can feel is right, whatever the circumstances surrounding it might be.

And those circumstances, in this case, were most definitely very, very wrong. But...

I could still taste her on my lips.

I fell asleep somehow, falling under waves of thought, imagining going after her, banging on the door, ripping her clothes off and tumbling to euphoria.

Matty jumped on me bright and early, followed closely by Nacho, whose feet thundered down the hallway of the apartment. "Morning Nick, good morning," Matty sang as he sat straddling my chest. Nacho licked my face. I struggled to pull my face away from Nacho while trying not to knock Matty off my chest.

"Oh Jesus. What time is it?" I asked.

"It's time to wake up," Matty replied, wiggling as he crawled down to sit on my legs and jumped off the couch.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Matty, what did I tell you? Don't wake Nick up," Abbey's voice was hushed. Like he hadn't already woken me up. "Get out here if you want pancakes."

"With chocolate chips?" Matty squealed and I heard him rush out of the room.

Nacho kept licking my face. I opened my eyes as his big pink tongue smeared across my nose. I pushed his face away. "Stop that," I groaned at him. He wiggled across me in a way that signifies he's gotta pee. I sighed and pushed the blanket Abbey had given me off and sat up. I looked around for a clock as Nacho rushed to the door and started spinning in circles, barking after each revolution. It was seven.

Seven o-fucking-clock in the fucking morning.

I ran a hand across my face. "Shit," I groaned into my palm.

Abbey's head poked out of the kitchen. "Good morning," she called.

I looked over at her. "Is it?"

"Did we wake you up?"

I blinked.

Abbey smiled a little awkwardly, then ducked back into the kitchen. "Do you like pancakes?" she shouted.

"Are they whole grain?"

"No."

"I love them," I answered. I pushed myself up off the couch, resigned to the fact that I had to get up. Nacho was about to take off on the floor.

"Not a fan of the whole grain?" Abbey asked.

"Not particularly."

Matty was holding a big bag of chocolate chips. "My mom makes the best pancakes on the planet, even better then Pancake Pantry," he added. "She puts the chocolate chips." He waved the bag.

"Sounds good," I said.

"Carbs and sugar for breakfast," Abbey said, "We dont do this often." She paused, "But... I don't know. I guess it's... kind of a special occasion."

I nodded. "It is."

I grabbed Nacho's leash from the back of the dining room chair, where we'd left it the night before and I snapped it into place. "I'm gonna go outside with Nick and Nacho," Matty said, tossing the chips onto the counter.

"Okay," Abbey said.

So we stood out there - me, Matty, and Nacho - waiting for Nacho to pee three times, and Matty stared up at the grey-blue sky overhead, spinning, while Nacho inspected every blade of grass that stood three inches or higher like he was hunting for gold. "Hurry up, please, dog," I grumbled.

"This is a special kinda day," Matty announced.

I turned to look at him. "Is it?"

He nodded. "I dunno why, but it feels special."

"Does it?"

He nodded again. He looked at me. "We're having the pancakes today. Pancakes is only for special days. We should do something special." He looked back at the glowing Christmas lights on the sliding door of the apartment, a smile spreading across his face. Then, just as quickly as the smile had come, he turned back toward me, his eyes on the little watch on his wrist. He looked up at me. "Do the doctors think I'm gonna die?"

The question caught me by surprise. "What?"

Matty licked his lips. "I just... I don't get to go home usually. Not until I've had a surgery or something. But this time..." he shrugged. "And plus, I heard my mom crying one night. She thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. She was sitting in the chair by my bed and she was crying a whole lot and --" he stopped, his little puffs of breath coming out and hanging in front of him. "You know I'm not scared, right? I just think I'd like to know what's gonna happen."

Nacho was pulled to the end of his leash, snuffling a bush. Matty came over beside me. I put my arm around his shoulders. "I don't think it matters what the doctors say," I said.

"They're doctors though," Matty said, leaning his head into my hip.

"So what, they ain't God, they don't really know shit," I said.

Matty stared up at me, eyebrow raised at the curse word.

"Sorry. I shouldn't say that word. But seriously buddy. It's all about what's in here." I tapped his chest.

Matty sighed and watched Nacho, who was kicking dirt, burying the pee he'd just done. I reeled him in and bent to lift him up. "I know they only give wishes to dying kids," he said. "And you're still here. Is that why?"

I shook my head. "I'm here because..." I paused. Because I should've been here sooner, I thought. Because I should've been here all along. Because you deserve a father. Because I want to kiss your mother. Because I'm slowly falling in love with this life that I could've had for the past seven years that I lost because I was too busy being drunk and addicted to know it was passing me by. My mouth was dry. None of these things were appropriate to say to him. "Because I think we all need each other."

Matty nodded.

"I know I sure needed you guys," I said. Matty smiled and pushed open the apartment door... and there was Abbey with a plate of pancakes, a little bit of batter on the side of her cheek, her eyes bright, cheeks rosy, hair messy, clad in those plaid pajama pants still. She looked beautiful. Matty danced into the room and I realized that Matty was right - today was a special kinda day.




Abbey

I'd forgotten we'd put Jeraldo in the fridge until Matty let out a shriek of laughter going after the maple syrup.

It was Nick's idea to decorate inside the apartment for Christmas after the pancakes were gone. "We'll start with a Christmas tree," he announced, "A real one. With the big bulbs. Like this." He held out his finger and thumb in a circle to indicate the size of the bulbs. Every word he spoke seemed to light Matty up, like he was breathing new life into him. And maybe he was, I thought. Maybe Nick was exactly what Matty had needed all along.

The adventure of tree buying underway, Nick led the way to the car, Nacho tugging along ahead of him, Matty taking twice as many steps as Nick to keep up, talking a mile a minute about the ornaments we had. I locked the apartment door and looked down at the two boys, like reflections of each other, walking to the car.

I felt bad having run off on Nick after our kisses the night before. I'd just been so scared of all of the feelings. There'd been so many bumping around in me like a pinball machine, lighting up my heart and my ribs. Fears, concerns, blips of anticipation and excitement... I didn't want to be a rebound, I didn't want to be something Nick fell back on in the emptiness that followed Lauren's departure from his life, but my heart wanted so bad for him to fall for me. In my wildest dreams, I'd kiss him and he'd pull away and whisper something like 'wow' and we'd fall into each other and the scene would go all blurry like in the movies and we'd be at the wedding, the rice and flowers falling all around us, doves flying off with bouquets with banners declaring our love...

"Abbey you comin'?" Nick laughed from the car.

I realized I'd managed to fall into a fantasy more akin to a Disney movie than reality. I jogged down the stairs and joined them at the car. "Sorry," I said, and swung into the car.

We drove down the street to this little Christmas tree lot a few miles away, where the boundaries of the lot were lined with trees and a giant blow-up Santa that stood waving to the passersby from the roof of the little shack that served as a florist shop during the summer. We walked among the trees, Nick shaking them out and holding them up to inspect them, all of us collaborating together to spot the flaws until we found one that was full and beautiful and altogether perfect. The guy working for the lot helped Nick hoist the thing onto the roof of the car and tie it through the windows to assure it stayed put on the ride home. We found Christmas carols on the radio and drove back, Matty in the back seat shouting out the lyrics to Jingle Bells enthusiastically and I couldn't help but think how much like tradition the expedition felt, like something I could picture us all looking forward to doing each year as Thanksgiving crawled into place and the holidays began.

When we got home, Nick carried the tree into the apartment and we put it up in a stand in the corner of the room and let the boughs settle while we ate a late lunch. Then Matty and I sat on the couch making construction paper chains while Nick battled with string lights, trying to rope them around the tree. There was something homey and comfortable and warm about the cold outside, pressing against the glass doors and the glow of multicolor twinkle lights reflecting off Nick as he moved around and around, his arms stretching and bending, displayed perfectly in the tank top he was wearing. I smiled as Matty sang Sleigh Ride with his little lisp and Nick made horse noises on cue that sounded only vaguely like a horse.

More than once, his eyes met mine and I wondered what he was thinking, if the feeling of our lips touching was haunting him the way it was haunting me.

We popped popcorn and decorated the tree as Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer came on TV that night, and Nick held Matty up to stick on the plastic angel I'd had since I was a little girl. Matty placed her up on the very top of the tree and we stood back to appreciate our handiwork as the elves of the North Pole sang to Santa. Then we all snuggled up together on the couch, Matty sprawled across us, his head in my lap, his legs strewn across Nick's, Nacho draped across him in the center of it all.

It was like we were a family.

When Matty started to snore, I looked over at Nick. "I think it's time for someone to go to bed," I whispered.

Nick nodded. He slid his arms under Matty's little body, lifting him up gently, bracing his head and his legs and he carried him down the hall softly, Nacho padding along in a sleepy manner behind. I opened Matty's bedroom door and Nick laid him on the bed and Matty sniffled and rolled, waking up ever so slightly to get comfy in bed with a big yawn. He wrapped his fingers around his pillow case.

"I'll be out there," Nick whispered.

I nodded and stared down at Matty. "I'll be right out," I said.

"Okay." Nick helped Nacho up onto the bed, where he promptly curled up at Matty's feet, and then tiptoed out of the room.

Chapter Twenty-Nine / 2013


Abbey

Nick was watching Rudolph still when I came back from Matty's room. His eyes sparkled like a little kid's as Herbie took out the Abominable's teeth. I stood in the doorway for several long moments, just watching him stare at the TV, before he even realized I'd returned. Then I moved and he caught sight of me and he blushed, shifting his weight and tried to seem disengaged from the movie, but it was too late, I'd already seen the childlike excitement he'd had when I'd first walked in the room. I smirked and crawled onto the couch beside him, tucking my legs beneath me. "Aww," I cooed, "You like Rudolph."

"Yeah so?" Nick flushed.

Rather than answering him directly, I leaned closer and pressed my lips against his cheek softly. I did it before I could really analyze what I was doing, before I could change my mind.

We'd gone an entire day without saying a word about the last time we'd done this. I was tired of sitting and wondering if he was thinking about it, too. Tired of waiting for him to do it again.

His cheek felt rough from lack of shaving under my lips.

Nick turned toward me as I kissed his skin and the next thing I knew our lips were against each other. My heart raced. What if he didn't want to kiss me, I wondered. Would he still kiss me out of obligation? Would he let something happen between us he knew was wrong? He snaked his arms around me and pulled me closer. I fell into him, literally almost tumbling into his lap, all my wonderings turning to an explosion of words in my head, falling out of place and losing sense.

My weight pushed him backwards to the cushions and I fell with him. He moved one leg to the floor, my body pressing against his from pelvis to chest, his wide palms on my back. I slid my hands into his hair, cupping his head and holding him close to me, my mouth not finished the relish of tasting his. I could feel him getting more and more aroused by the moment, pressing against me. He put his hands on my hips... and then slid them softly beneath my shirt and ran them over the smooth material of my bra. I moaned into his mouth as his hands softly squeezed my breasts, finding my nipples beneath the fabric and running his thumb across them.

I realized suddenly that this was everything -- everything -- that I had dreamed about for the last seven years, since November 1, 2006, when I'd woken up beside him. It was happening. I felt dizzy with desire.

It took every ounce of willpower in my body to pull away. I stared at him in the eyes as I sat up, his hands slipping out from beneath my shirt as I stood. Without a word, I walked down the hallway to my bedroom, purposely leaving the light in the hall on and the bedroom door open. I didn't know if I wanted him to think I was running away again or to come after me, I couldn't tell. I just knew the beat of my heart was about seven times its usual pace. I pulled my shirt off of my body and slid my pants down, abandoning them in a corner. I laid down on the bed. And I waited.

The light in the hallway turned off, and for a moment I thought he thought I'd run off and I felt disappointed... and then, then there he was. I could see him in the doorway, his shape only just barely visible against the darkness. He closed the door behind him as he stepped into the room. I watched him come closer until he was close enough I could see his features lit up in the glowing red of the bedside alarm clock. He crawled onto the bed, leaning over me, staring down into my eyes, and he kissed me again, his hands roaming over my bare skin, his breathing becoming more and more ragged. I could almost feel his heart beating through his chest.

At least I wasn't the only one who was colossally nervous, I thought, laying my hand against the spot where his skin radiated with the pulse of blood pumping through him.

He reached behind me and unsnapped my bra. Together, we slid it off and he put it on the floor beside the bed, his mouth already descending upon my breasts, my nipples standing on full alert as his lips moved across them. Then he landed on the nipple and my body seemed to scream with pleasure as my nerve endings fired. He wrapped his lips around it, sucked it gently, and rubbed the other with his fingers, grinning as my mouth formed an O, my mind rushing like a blur of color. "Oh my God," I whispered, my fingers curling around the sheets and pillows as he worked, his tongue massaging me as he sucked softly against my skin.

I arched my back, pushing my boobs closer to him, offering them up like sacrifices to the god of sex. He laughed and the feeling of his breath against my just-licked skin felt cold and hot at the same time. Tingles shot up and down my spine like electric energy.

Then he started kissing a trail across my stomach, lower and lower.

"Please," I whispered.

Nick dipped his tongue into my belly button.

"Oh God."

Then he continued kissing his trail... lower and lower... He was kneeling between my legs, and I felt his hands land on my knees and slowly slide up along my legs to my thighs, which he pressed his palms against and slowly, gently spread them apart. I was gasping for breath just from the anticipation. I could feel I was already wet down there, my heart slamming around inside of me. I clutched the pillow, bit my lip, and waited... waited... waited... He was just laying there, building the pressure of the anticipation. Then he kissed the inside of my thigh and I felt like I'd been electrocuted, my entire body reacted to the shock of the touch, my spine went rigid, my legs stretched out, my toes pointing. He laughed and he softly kissed a little closer to the apex of me. Slowly.. one kiss at a time... inching closer and closer... I had all I could do not to shriek and scream from the anticipation alone...

The world seemed to rush past me at full speed. Colors, lights, sounds, shapes. Obscurity. Stars. I was shaking. But then one solitary thought came into my head - and it was enough to bring it all to a screeching halt.

"Wait," I choked.

He looked up at me. I struggled against my own senses to get away from him. I crawled backwards, grabbed a pillow, shoved it between me and him, blocking his view of me, tucking my legs up close to me. My body was screaming in defiance against my brain, shaking it's fist in anger, swearing revenge upon me.

I stared at him over the pillow as my hormones raged, rallying for full out war against my mind. "We can't do this," I whispered.

He stared back. His mind was already down and out of the battle, a confused, almost dumbfounded expression hung on his face, like I was speaking in a completely different language. My hormones cried out to his, trying to form some kind of union that could overthrow the power of my brain. "What?" he stammered.

"We can't. I don't want to be a rebound. I don't wanna be that girl you hooked up with when you were sad about Lauren."

Nick looked surprised. "Rebound? You're not a rebound."

"How could I not be?" I asked, "It's been like two days."

Nick stared into my eyes, and his eyebrows cinched together in concern. "I've had your phone number memorized for seven years," he whispered thickly. "This is the opposite of a rebound."

"You memorized it?" I asked.

Nick rattled off the phone number without a blink.

My mouth went dry.

"But what if - what if something happens? What if we do this and, and - and Matty?" I asked.

"What about Matty?"

"Matty needs you. I haven't seen him this happy in... in years. What if we break up and it's weird between us?"

"It won't be weird."

"But what if?"

Nick shrugged. "It doesn't matter because if isn't going to happen."

"It does matter, it does. I can't let that happen to Matty." I hugged the pillow tighter, trying to suffocate the hormone army fighting for presidency.

Nick stared at me. "Abbey, I'm not ever gonna let anything hurt Matty," he said thickly.

I stared into his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes. His hair was longish and strands of it hung down over his forehead... He lay there, breathing, his chest moving up and down, his jaw just a little slack... And there was something in that voice... a sincerity... maybe it was my hormones winning the battle, or maybe my mind conceded because of those words... because I threw the pillow to the side and said, "Let's do this."




Nick

"Nick. Nick we forgot to move Jeraldo... Nick, wake up."

My eyes felt pasted together. It was four hours later. I realized my face was smooshed into a pillow with a sweet, flowery scent and I moved to find myself curled up in Abbey's bed, her limbs tangled around me from behind, her mouth against the ridge of my ear as she whispered into it. "Nick."

"Hmmm?"

"Jeraldo. We forgot to move him."

I groaned.

"Nick. We gotta move the elf."

I forced myself to move. Every muscle in my body had been turned to gelatin, it seemed. I swear I'd never been so entirely satisfied in my entire life. It was like she'd managed to reach down to the very bone structure of me and recode even my DNA. I rolled to look up at her. She was kneeling there beside me, her hair all messed up, the blanket pulled up 'round her chest, a look of borderline panic in her eyes.

"Okay let's go move that elf," I said. My voice was low and rumbly from the sleep and the sex.

We got up and I pulled my boxers on and she tugged a sweatshirt around her that hung down to her thighs, effectively covering everything up. We went out to the kitchen and got Jeraldo from his place in the fridge and looked around for a new place to put the elf. After some elaborate finagling, we got him all set up and stood awkwardly staring at him.

Abbey looked at me. "Matty's gonna be up soon," she commented, her eyes darting to the clock.

I looked at the clock too, then glanced back down the hallway to the kid's bedroom door. "I should probably stay out here then," I said.

Abbey looked disappointed. "I guess," she replied.

I wanted to tell her that she'd blown my mind, that she'd been the best I'd ever had, that I wanted to do it again, that nobody had ever made me feel like I felt because of her. But the words wouldn't come and I felt the moment to tell her passing.

"Get some sleep, Nick," Abbey whispered, and she turned down the hallway, hands clutching at her sweatshirt's waist band, keeping it down, like she suddenly felt like she needed to be covered up more. I opened my mouth to say all that I wanted to, but she got into her room before I could speak and closed the door behind her. I stood there in only my boxers, realizing all my clothes were in her room, and realized how fucking cold it was outside and in the apartment, the air like little needles against my bare skin.

I wanted to go knock on the door and get my clothes and tell her words - so many words - but I didn't dare to because I heard Nacho jump down from the bed in Matty's room and that could only mean one thing. So I scrambled into the living room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from my duffle bag, shimmied them onto my body and slid under the blanket on the couch, rolling to face the back cushions and closed my eyes to pretend to be asleep.

And I got there only just in time.

Chapter Thirty / 2013


Matty and Nacho came out to the living room only seconds after I'd fallen into my fake-sleep stance. I pretended to wake up, and put Nacho's leash on him and Matty scampered out into the cold morning air with me to walk him. While Nacho peed on the bushes, Matty followed me around with his hands shoved into the pocket of his jacket. "Hey Mr. Nick, I gotta question," he said about five minutes into our walk, "It's real important."

"Okay, shoot," I answered. I was glancing at Abbey's bedroom window, wondering what she was doing. Had she really gone back in to sleep? Nacho tugged and I took a couple side steps to accommodate him.

"Well it's like this," Matty said, "I just am wondering if you think I could maybe get a ride from you downtown so's I could get a job? I don't have a bike or nothin'. Do you think mom would mind? I bet I could be like the people on the skates at Sonic maybe."

I looked down at him. "What?"

"A job," he said, "I need the moneys."

"What do you need money for?" I asked.

Matty sighed and flapped his arms at his side like he was a penguin or something. "I need the moneys because I gotta get a good present for my mom for Christmas and I don't wanna make her no stupid popsicle stick picture frame like last year. I wanna buy her a real present, so I need the money."

"I don't think you're exactly old enough to get a job," I said, "There's like... laws and stuff."

Matty looked profoundly disappointed.

"It's okay, though, dude, I'll bring you shopping for your mom," I offered.

He lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"When?"

"I dunno. Soon."

"Today?"

"Maybe this weekend."

He clapped his hands together excitedly. "That'll be really, really cool if we do that."

"Okay," I said, "We'll make sure we do that, then. I promise."

We finished walking Nacho, the headed back inside. Abbey was out of the bedroom and had folded my blanket and stacked it and my pillow on the back of the couch. The Christmas tree lights were on, glowing happily in the corner and the heater was running, cutting the chill out of the air in the room. She was cooking eggs at the stove in the kitchen, I could smell them and toast. I unhinged Nacho's leash and he bulleted down the hallway to Matty's room, where Matty had gone. I glanced down the hall, making sure Matty was out of ear shot, then sidled over to Abbey at the stove. "Hey," I said.

"Hey," she answered. She shook some pepper onto the frying pan where the eggs sizzled, then turned and pulled a ziplock bag of deli ham out of the fridge and started frying slices of ham, too.

"Can we talk about last night?" I asked.

She shrugged, "There's nothing really to talk about," she said. She grabbed the spatula and moved the eggs onto toast on three plates. Perfectly formed Sunny Side Ups. She slid ham onto the side and pushed one of the plates into my hands. "We had fun. It felt great. That's it." She smiled. I held the plate and she turned to the fridge. "Do you want cheese?" she asked.

"Uh yeah," I answered.

She put a slice on my plate. "There ya go." Then, "Matty! Breakfast!"

Nacho came running down the hallway into the kitchen, tail spinning in circles. Matty came running behind him, his sock feet thumping on the floor and skid across the wood-pattern tile that covered the floor under the table like he was in Risky Business. He crawled onto the table and Abbey put the plate in front of him.

I sat down, my mind kind of spinning over what she'd said. Fun? Felt great? That's it? Had she not turned to jello inside like I had? Was she not blown away? Cos I'd been blown away. I started mentally running over everything that I'd done. Had I messed up somewhere? Had I done something wrong? I'd done the appropriate amount of foreplay, right? Girls like foreplay... I'd hit all the spots, right? I'd taken my time. I'd even cuddled, for fucks sake.

Fun?

Felt great?

That's it?????

I looked up at her my fork kinda hanging in my hand limp wristed. She was cutting Matty's ham up in pieces. Nacho was scratching at my legs.

"Is your breakfast okay?" Abbey asked.

"Yeah," I answered, "It's fun."

Abbey looked at me weird.

"It feels great," I added.

She raised her eyebrow.

"That's it," I finished.

Abbey turned back to Matty. "How's yours?"

"Yummy," he answered, shoving a big bite of ham into his mouth.

I spent the entire time we were eating stressing over the words fun, great, and that's it. I mean, I've always gotten rave reviews. So it didn't make sense that she'd been so ho-hum about it. It was driving me crazy.




Abbey

I could see Nick was dying on the other side of the table. I knew that I'd really gotten under his skin. But I wasn't about to let him have the ball in his court, so to speak, by telling him the truth about what he'd done to me the night before. That was for me to know. The truth was, I'd spent seven years building up the experience I'd had with Nick in my mind. I'd come to the point that I'd decided there was no way in hell that anyone could live up to that memory. Especially not Nick himself. No way could anyone be as good as I remembered him.

I'd even managed to clear the expectations out of my head when he'd laid his hands on me. I'd decided not to compare his performance to my memory of him because it didn't seem fair. But it'd taken only moments for me to realize that there was no need to clear the expectations because Nick had blown them right off the god-damned planet.

When I'd gone back into my room that morning, I'd laid down on the bed and literally used every ounce of will in my body to keep from rushing out and pulling him back in there so I could do the dirtiest of dirty things to him over and over again.

I wanted to lock him up in my room and never let him out.

That'd be amazing.

"Mommy?"

I blinked out of the mini-fantasy I'd fallen into at the thought of Nick locked up in my room and re-focused on Matty. "Sorry," I said. "Yeah?"

"Mr. Nick was askin' you a question," he said.

I looked up at Nick. "Yeah?"

"I was thinkin' I could maybe bring Matty out this weekend? Like a guy's day? Would that be okay?" Nick winked at Matty, then turned back to me and smiled.

"Yeah, sure," I answered, "That sounds like fun."

Matty looked at Nick with wide, excited eyes.

Nick was still squirming with the words I'd said. I could practically read fun, great, that's it on his eyeballs like a ticker tape.

When we'd all finished eating, Nick followed me into the kitchen, came right up behind me and reached around me to put his dish in the sink, his face close to my ears. "Maybe tonight we can have some more fun," he whispered.

My mouth went dry at the thought of it.

In the other room, Matty started shouting for us to come look. Nick turned away, and I realized I'd held my breath when he'd come up behind me. It'd been a reflex. Nick came near and my breathing stopped.

Damn him and his powers.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain composure, and I followed him out to the living room to see Matty had discovered Jeraldo... who was playing cards with Iron Man and Hulk under the tree. "LOOK!" Matty was shrieking, "Hulk and Iron Man come to life at night, too!"

Nick's eyes were wide as he knelt next to Matty to look, "That's insane," he said. "Abbey, take a look at this, will ya? Isn't that fun? Great?"

The rest of the day pretty much went like that. Every time that Nick got a chance to use the words, he did. All. Damn. Day. Even when the night fell and we were playing a game of Clue and Matty started to nod off, laying on the carpet, hugging Nacho's little squirming body as Nick rolled the dice. "I think someone's falling asleep," I commented, nodding his way.

"But we're having fun," Nick said.

I stared at him.

Nick moved his game piece.

"I'm gonna put Matty to bed," I said.

I shook him awake enough that he could walk down the hallway and Nacho followed as I led Matty along after a sleepy goodnight to Nick. It took me maybe a grand total of ten minutes to get Matty down, and Nacho curled up at his pillow, and then I closed his bedroom door, my hands sweaty because I already knew what I was about to do.

I'd been waiting for it all day.

I marched to the living room.

Nick looked up. "Welcome back."

"Thank you," I replied. "He's asleep."

"Great," Nick said. He stared up at me.

"That's it," I said. "Get up." Nick got up slowly, his eyes locked with mine the entire time. I took a deep breath, trying to settle the nervousness that coursed through my body. I pointed down the hallway at my bedroom door. "Go to my room," I said in as stern a voice as I could.

A grin spread slowly across Nick's face -- a naughty-boy grin, like some kid that'd been caught doing something super mischievous. "I don't understand," he said, his voice husky, "Have I been bad?"

I nodded solemnly. "So... so bad."

He started down the hallway. Then he stopped and rushed back into the living room and he grabbed Jeraldo from under the tree and he tangled him into the wires of the blinds quickly. "There we go," he said, "Now... where were we? Oh yeah. I've been very bad and I was about to be... punished." He slunk by me, his eyes twinkling as he moved down the hallway to my bedroom.

Chapter Thirty-One / 2013


Abbey

"Oh my God!" I gasped as I fell back into the pillows. Nick fell beside me, panting as he hit the mattress with a thump. His hair was a mess, his eyes glazed and unfocused. He stared at me through his eyelashes, pulling the blankets up to his chest as he gasped for air.

This wasn't later that night after the whole conversation about fun, great, that's it. No, this was two days later - our fourth night in a row of putting Matty to sleep only to scamper into my room to hump like horny rabbits. Three absolutely mind-blowing nights, with agonizing days that seemed endlessly full of anticipation. Yet we'd still managed to not talk about what we were were becoming and where we thought this was going.

I stared over at him, the moonlight spilling in the window, illuminating the contours of his face in high contrast. He stared back at me, blinking with heavy lids, his mouth still parted as he struggled to breathe. I wondered what it would be like to wake up every day next to him, to be Mrs. Nick Carter. It couldn't possibly be as magical as it seemed in my mind at the thought of it, could it? But then, how could it not be? I mean, he's Nick Carter.

I reached out my hand, pressing it against his bare chest, feeling his heart beating against my palm. He put his hands over mine, pressing it closer against his skin. I swallowed, thinking of that heart in there, thinking of the way hearts look in xrays and cardiograms and stuff. I'd seen so many pictures of hearts in the past seven years... They look nothing like Valentines and stuff, they're more like lima beans in shape than the traditional hearts. They look rather wonky. But that's okay. Something as screwed up and complicated as love should be contained in something that's rather wonky.

I licked my lips. "Nick," I whispered, "What is this?"

"Besides fun and great?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "What are we?"

He shifted a little, his weight moving the mattress, sending a tremble through it. He took a deep breath through his nose and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, shoving one arm under his head. My hand remained on his chest.

"I think we're two people," He paused. "I think we're -- we're something. Something there isn't really a word for, I guess."

I had a lot of questions about that definition, but I didn't have a chance to ask them because at that exact moment, the bedroom door creaked opened and I slammed a pillow into Nick's face, covering him from view. I sat up, hugging the blankets over my chest. Nacho preceded Matty in the door, jumping up on the bed and rushing up between Nick and I and scratching at the pillow I'd buried Nick under, like he was trying to unbury his master. Matty was rubbing his little eyes, a disgruntled, sleepy look on his face. "Mommy," he muttered, "I had a nightmare."

"Aww sweetie," I cooed. My heart was racing, despite my comforting voice. I hesitated. "Let's go get Gator and talk about it in the living room," I said.

"But Mr. Nick's in the livin' room," Matty said.

Right. About that. I glanced at the pillow Nick was hidden beneath. I looked back at Matty. "No. Um. Nick had a nightmare, too. He's in here because he was scared. I just got him back to sleep. You and me will go out there."

Matty glanced at where Nacho had pushed the pillow up to reach Nick's face. Nick was struggling to remain asleep-looking as Nacho nudged him with his wet nose. "Ohhh," Matty whispered, "Okay. I'll go get Gator."

"Okay. See you in the living room." I waited until Matty had turned the corner of the bedroom door, then I launched myself up to my feet, snagging my clothes from the floor as Nacho leaped into the space I'd just vacated, spinning and laying in the heat my body had left behind as I struggled to yank on my bra and a t-shirt.

Nick opened his eyes.

"We'll be in the living room," I said.

Nick nodded.

I shrugged a sweatshirt onto my shoulders, and I was about to leave when Nick grabbed at my wrist, stopping me from walking away. He stared up at me, an almost desperate look in his eyes. "Abbey, I --" he stopped. He seemed to be struggling with words.

I heard Matty's door close and I knew he was on his way back. "Shh," I said, despite the fact that I so desperately wanted to know what he was about to say. "Shh, you're asleep." I darted out of the room, carefully closing the door behind me to close Nick into the room behind me as I joined Matty in the hallway.

He was clutching the big stuffed alligator and I followed him out to the living room, where he climbed up onto the couch, not even noticing that Nick's blankets weren't even slightly messed up. I sat next to him and he curled into me, pressing his face into my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him. It amazed me how tiny his body felt in my arms, how frail his frame felt. It was moments like this - in the dark, when he was sad and little and pressing against me - that I most feared the prognosis because that is when it felt the most real.

It was when he was tiny like this that it felt the most possible for him to be gone.

"What was the nightmare?" I asked him, rubbing my hand along his shoulder.

"I don't remember but it was scary," he said thickly. He sniffled. "I didn't want to be alone no more. And my watch beeped." He held his wrist up for me to see.

He'd had a spike in blood pressure that the monitor had alerted him of, but it looked like he was back to normal now. It must've been just nerves. I pictured him all scared and alone in his bed, listening to his heart rate monitor beeping, and I felt guilty. I realized I'd been so focused on Nick that I'd started to lose touch with Matty.

"i'm sorry I wasn't there for you," I said.

"What'd Nick nightmare about?" he asked.

I shrugged, "He couldn't remember either."

"How come Mr. Nick and Lauren broked up?" Matty asked. "I liked Lauren."

I sighed, "Because... sometimes people make mistakes and things happen and people make bad choices that hurt other people."

Matty thought for a moment. "If I make mistakes, will Nick stop being friends with me?"

"No," I answered.

"Why?" he asked. "He did with Lauren."

"It's different," I replied.

"Why?" he asked.

"It just is," I answered, "It's one of those weird grown up things that's hard to explain. Someday you'll understand. But I promise you Nick won't stop being your friend."

"Okay." He snuggled into me and wrapped his arms around me and I felt his breathing get more and more rhythmic as he started falling asleep. I thought he was out completely when he said, "I love you."

"I love you too," I answered, rubbing his back.

"You think I'll get my five stars present?" he asked.

I still hadn't looked too much through that toy catalogue, I realized. I didn't know what he five-star wanted yet. I had the Pokemon DS, but I still hadn't gotten up the urgency in my gut to go shopping and searching for something that could very well be the very last thing I ever gave him. The thought of it terrified me. But I knew one thing for sure: whatever it was in the world that Matty wanted, I'd make damn sure that he got it, whatever it took.

"I'm sure of it," I said.

"Good," he said happily and he drifted off to sleep as I sat there in the dark, staring out the sliding glass doors to the parking lot and beyond that the moon that had lit Nick's features so perfectly in the other room and I wondered where I'd be a month from now... and who I'd be with.




Nick

When I got up, I found Abbey and Matty both asleep on the couch, snuggled up together like one of those pictures of penguins. They had the blanket I'd been using all week wrapped around them, Abbey's head leaning against the top of Matty's, his pressed into her side. I tiptoed past them into the parking lot with Nacho to let him go to the bathroom. I stood out in the grass, the damp morning chilling me through my sweatshirt.

I was in the middle of a huge yawn when my phone vibed in my pocket. I tugged it out and glanced down to see Lauren's name on the screen. I felt a lump rise in my throat. I took a breath to strengthen myself, then answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey," her voice was thick, like she'd just been crying. Like maybe she still was. I felt my heart go out to her. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, tell her that everything that was bothering her would be okay. It made me sick that I could feel like that... but I couldn't unlove her just because she'd unloved me first.

"What do you want?" I asked, forcing myself to sound colder than I really felt.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm about to move the last of my things out of the house," she said.

The thought of the house being void of all the little touches she'd added to it made my heart ache. I looked down at my feet, at the color of my sneakers against the dead-grey-green of the grass below. I rubbed the back of my neck. "So you found a place to go then," I said.

"Yeah," she answered.

"Travis's?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. Then, "Are you at Abbey's?"

"Yeah," I answered.

She sniffled. "I figured that's where you'd go."

"I'm sorry," I said, "I'm sorry that everything happened. Between us. Both you and I. Both of us were... not perfect."

"I know," she replied. "And I'm sorry, too. I hope you know that."

"I know," I said. "You really helped me grow... and I really loved you... You were the first person I ever imagined spending the rest of my life with, you know."

"You were the first I imagined too, Nick," Lauren's voice was heavy. "I didn't believe this would ever be a conversation I would hold with you."

I sighed. "Yeah. But... but at least we're holding it like adults, right?"

"Right."

"That's gotta count for something."

"I think so, too," Lauren agreed. She paused. "Nick, I'm glad for you. I know I've been really shitty to you and everything, and I know I broke your heart, but... I think it's going to be good in the end. I think you're going to be better off in the end. I think you needed this. I think you needed her."

I looked up at the sky. It was overcast and cold looking. Nacho was finished, and he was tugging toward the apartment, already conditioned for which way to go to get inside. I wanted to go inside, too, but I wanted to finish this conversation first. "I hope Travis is as good for you as Abbey is gonna end up being for me," I offered.

Lauren laughed, "He's not you."

"Nobody is me."

"Trust me. I'm painfully aware of that." Lauren paused, "You're an amazing guy. Abbey's very lucky."

"Good bye, Lauren," I said because I didn't know what else to say.

Her voice cracked. "Good bye Nick."

I hung up the phone and shoved it into my pocket.

I felt strange... like I'd grown.... like I was a better person.

"C'mon Nacho," I said. "Let's go for a jog first."

He looked up at me like he hated me as I started jogging around the complex of Abbey and Matty's apartment buildings, balling my fists and moving at a moderate pace for Nacho to keep up with. He waddled along beside me, his claws clicking on the pavement as we moved, my sneakers thunking, sweat building up under my arms and across my forehead, my heart rate increasing slowly. Every step I took felt like liberation, every puff of breath I exhaled felt like a declaration. And by the time I'd completed a lap around the complex, I felt like the future was going to be just as amazing as it was unknowable.

Chapter Thirty-Two / 2013


Nick

Abbey woke up with a little bit of a start when I brought Nacho inside after jogging around the complex. I unhooked his leash and he jumped up on the couch at Matty's side. Abbey blinked at me, then glanced down at Matty and Nacho and looked at the clock. "Oh man," she groaned. She slid carefully out from under Matty to free herself and stood up, stretching her arms and neck. She looked at me, "Did you just come in?"

"Yeah," I replied. We went out to the kitchen and Abbey started making coffee. I leaned against the counter and watched. "Lauren called. She's gonna be out of the house today."

Abbey stared down into the coffee can. "So I guess that you'll be going home then."

"I guess so," I said. She nodded and carefully started spooning out scoops of coffee into the filter.
She took the caraft and filled the tank with water, turning it on. She watched it for a long moment as the tank started to heat up and the machine gurgled with anticipation. She busied herself putting the lid onto the can of coffee as we stood there in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to brew. She got out two mugs and the creamer and some sugar and put them all on the counter in a neat row.

"Abbey," I said.

She turned aroud and looked at me.

"Are we... you know... together?"

She leaned against the counter. "Well," she said slowly, eyes cast at my shoes instead of my face, "I mean, we're either together or else we're just, you know, having meaningless sex." She cleared her throat.

"Is it meaningless for you?" I asked.

She continued staring at my feet. She shrugged. "Is it for you?"

I hesitated. "I don't know," I answered.

"Me either," she replied.

Our eyes locked.

"Okay," I said.

"Yeah," she replied.

"I think maybe when we figure out if it is or not that we should tlel each other," I reasoned.

Abbey nodded.

We stood there kind of awkwardly a moment, then she cleared her throat and turned away, opening the cupboard and starting to go through the contents, and I looked down at my feet and shoved my hands in my pockets. I felt like a kid having just asked a girl to the dance for the first time, my palms were all sweaty and stuff.

I don't know why I didn't just tell her what I was feeling, about the magic and the breathlessness and the wow-factor and all that. About the fun, great, that's it. But I didn't know how to tell her that because as close as I'd been to Lauren and everything it felt too soon. But at the same time Abbey felt right. Abbey felt more. I don't know.

Abbey turned around to look at me, holding a can of sliced potatos. I felt like I'd never seen anyone in the world hold a can of sliced potatos quite as sexily as she was doing.

"You're beautiful," I said because the words kind of took over my mouth and just came out before my head could stop them.

Abbey looked surprised. "I'm a mess," she answered. She was wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, her hair was in a ponytail that had mirgrated to one side of her head in the throws of our sexual escapades the night before. "I'm not beautiful, I don't even have make-up on," she answered. She turned around and picked up the manual can opener and started working at the can. I stepped up behind her and rested my chin on her shoulder, bringing my arms around and taking the can and the opener and twisting the knob myself. She hummed as my body pressed against hers.

"You don't need make-up," I said.

She closed her eyes.

I swooped her hair away and softly placed kisses on the back of her neck.

"It's not meaningless," she said.

I stared at the counter over her shoulders, my lips pressed to her skin. The words had sent cold shiver down my spine. I stared at the pattern on the counter top.

Abbey licked her lips. "It's okay if you can't say the same thing, Nick, I --"

"It's not meaningless," I said.

We stood there another couple moments, again all awkward-like. The coffee finished brewing with a gurgle and Abbey turned around to get it. It occured to me that I needed a couple minutes to breathe and collect my thoughts and that until I had that I'd just say one stupid thing after another, like an avalanche of bullshit. I stumbled back as Abbey poured coffee into the first mug. "Do you want cream and sugar?" she asked, staring into the steaming cup.

"No," I said, "No. You know, actually, I should go to the house. Check on stuff. Make sure she took care of everything right, you know, that I'm not missing anything or whatever." I knew Lauren wouldnt take any of my stuff or go all Carrie-Underwood-Louisville-Slugger-to-both-headlights on me, but it seemed like my only excuse.

Abbey turned around, "You're leaving?"

"Yeah," I said. She looked disappointed. This had to be some kind of record. Less than five minutes and I was already disappointing her. I puffed out my cheeks. "I'll come back, though. I mean, I promised Matty I'd take him to the mall and stuff. And there's Jeraldo. He needs to be moved later." I just wanted that disappointed expression to go away.

Abbey nodded, "Okay."

"Okay," I agreed.

I tiptoed out to the other room and got my duffle bag. Nacho looked up as I slid the bag onto my shoulder. He glanced at Matty, as if wondering who he'd rather stay with, then reluctantly jumped down off the couch when I held up his leash. I think he was still a little pissed at me for the impromptu run through the cold parking lot, to be honest. I clipped his leash to his collar and he waddled alongside me back out to the kitchen. "Call me if you need anything," I said.

Abbey was stirring sugar into her mug. "I will," she said.

"Tell Matty I'll be back."

"Okay."

I picked Nacho up. "See you later," I said. I was backing towards the door. I didn't really want to leave. But I knew I needed to. I needed to process without her smelling good and looking good and being there.

I walked across the parking lot to my car, Nacho wriggling under my arm. After stowing him into his crate, I got in and started driving. I didn't even get out of the apartment complex before I wanted to turn back.




Abbey

After Nick left, I sat at the table thinking about everything, drinking my coffee while Matty slept on in the living room with Gator laid across his chest. The apartment felt empty, like a cave or something without Nick and Nacho there. Already the world felt incomplete without Nick in it. It only seemed natural for him to be there. I looked at the Christmas tree. I'd always felt that way, even as a little girl, about the holiday decorations. They were only there a month, but when you took them down the world seemed just a little bit more empty - probably why January seemed like such a terribly sad month to me. The emptiness wasn't emptiness at all, it was the norm, spoiled by the presence of magic. And that's what the apartment was. The apartment was January.

Matty woke up just as I was sitting back down after fetching a refill for my coffee mug. He yawned and stretched and sat up, knocking Gator onto the floor.

"Well hello, sleepy head," I called out to him as he looked around the apartment.

He crawled off the couch and came over, crawling up onto my lap, glancing over my shoulder at the kitchen as he did. "Where's Mr. Nick?" he asked.

"He had to go home," I answered, "But don't worry, he'll come around to visit he said."

Matty looked at the floor and back at the couch. "He took Nacho with him?"

"Well, yeah," I answered, "Nacho's his dog."

Matty sighed. "Yeah."

I pushed his hair back from his forehead, kissing him gently. His skin felt a little bit warm. "You okay?" I asked him, concerned.

"Just sleepy," he answered.

I had to fight the urge to panic at the words. For seven years, a tempterature and lethargy had indicated issues with Matty's heart. I already knew what was going on, I already knew there wasn't anything much they could do at the hospital. This was the treatment plan. Come home and enjoy the holidays. I took a deep breath.

"Don't worry, I'm okay," Matty said, his voice level and mature far beyond his age.

"I worry because I love you," I replied.

"I know," he answered. "Just, I don't like it when you worry."

He was like a little grown up, I thought. I wondered if he'd have turned out to be as grown up so young as he had if it hadn't have been for his condition. Would he still have the same thoughtful attitude, the same manners? Or was this maturity a side effect alone, something that sprang from having been around adults more than other children?

"I'm gonna go color," he decided, sliding off my lap, and he walked away, his socks padding against the carpet. I watched him set himself up on the coffee table with the crayons and the paper. He'd been up all night, I thought to myself, that's why he slept late. And his cheeks were warm because of the temperature in the house. The heater was on, it was cold outside, and he wasn't used to the heater running. He'd just woke up. His temperature had always been higher right after waking up. Always.

I got up and put my mug in the sink, cleaned up the mess of the coffee. When I finished, I noticed I had a missed text message from Nick on my phone.

So if it isn't meaningless... he typed, Are we, you know, together then?

I stared at the words.

Yes, I typed back, I think we might be.

I stood there, panicking, feeling the emptiness of the apartment press in around me, listening to the sound of Matty's crayons on the paper in the living room. I bit my lips and waited for him to answer. I was afraid that maybe this was too much too fast, that maybe the question had been his hope that I'd say no. Maybe he was afraid of what my answer might be.

Then I got his answer.

It was a smiley face.

Chapter Thirty-Three / 2013


Abbey

:)

Colon, parenthesis. Two itty bitty parts of the English language's punctuation... so often overlooked or even misused by most of the population... so much the forefront thought in my brain. I sat on the floor most of the day coloring with Matty in the living room, obsessing sliently with the thought of what Nick had meant with the smiley face he'd sent me. Were we seriously together? Why did this feel like high school and he'd checked the "yes" box on a note I'd passed him during study hall?

"I wanna get Mr. Nick a present," Matty announced after lunch. He still had a little peanut butter and jelly stuck to his cheek.

"You do?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Something really great. Like a chia pet or something."

I stared at Matty, put down my crayon. "A chia pet?"

"Yeah. They're pretty great."

"I'm sure we can think of something even greater to get Nick," I said. Because really -- a chia pet?

Matty shrugged. "Maybe. But Chia Pets would be pretty hard to beat."

"I'm pretty sure if we think really hard we'll be able to, though," I replied, smirking to myself. Matty had never had a Chia Pet, so I wasn't entirely positive where he'd gotten the idea from. But he went back to coloring, his little tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth until almost one, when there was a knock at our door.

"Hey," Nick said, grinning as he came in the door. "How was y'alls mornin'?"

"I colored you a picture," Matty said. He went back to the coffee table and grabbed a picture of Nacho that he'd drawn and waved it at Nick. "Here you go."

Nick looked it over, "Wow, thanks," he said. "That's a really good picture." I could tell the way he was looking at it that he wasn't entirely positive what it was.

"Matty did a great job coloring Nacho, didn't he?" I asked.

Nick looked up, and I could see the relief and thankfulness in his eyes. "Oh yes," he said, "Nacho never looked better, lil buddy." He grinned. "I'm gonna put this in my wallet and keep it with me all the time." He pulled out his wallet, folded the picture, and slid it in. Matty looked enthralled. Nick looked at me, "I'm here to bring my super artistic lil buddy out for a super, super secret boy's mission."

I raised one eyebrow.

Nick grinned. "I'd tell ya where to but, like I said, it's super, super secret." He mouthed the word mall and I smirked.

"Well then," I said to Matty, "I guess you better go get dressed, huh? You don't wanna do your super secret man mission in your PJS."

"Be right back!" Matty said and he walked down the hall to his room.

I turned to Nick as Matty's bedroom door shut behind him. "So... a smiley face," I said.

Nick's smiled a little smile, his eyes cast away from mine, "Yeah. A smiley face."

"So... yes, then?" I asked, moving over to him.

He looked up as I came close, our eyes meeting. "Yeah," he said quietly.

I was standing so close now, our bodies touched. I stared into his eyes. I was just about to kiss him when Matty's door opened again and he rushed back to the living room. I jumped away from Nick like shrapnel just as Matty rounded the corner. He looked from Nick to me and back again a couple times. "What'cha doin?" he asked.

"Super, super secret grown-up stuff," Nick answered. He looked Matty over. "Okay, so. Are you ready then?"

"I'm ready!" Matty said.

Nick smiled, "Aiight, then, let's go."

Matty led the way to the door. Nick hovered as Matty headed down the steps to the lot. He glanced back at me. "I, uh, guess we'll have to, you know, make this official later?"

"Sounds fun," I replied.

"Great," Nick answered, eyes twinkling.

"Thats it," I added, laughing.

Nick winked, and pulled the door shut behind him.




Nick

Matty grasped my hand as we walked through the crowded Opry Mills Mall. It was nearly as bad as the mall I'd brought Abbey to on Black Friday. People were side stepping and rushing every which way, so I kept his hand firmly in mine, not wanting to lose him among the mass of people that filled the halls. Christmas music blasted at an uncomfortably loud volume overhead, making it all feel more frenzied than if there'd been silence from the intercom.

I glanced down at Matty. He was gripping a directory map from the doorway in his fist, looking it over carefully. "Where to?" I asked him.

He shrugged.

"What are we gettin' for your mom?" I asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "I was thinkin' maybe a crown. Like a tiara."

I paused my walk to look down at him. "What?"

"She could be a princess."

"What's she gonna do with a tiara?" I asked.

"If she's princess, wear it around and stuff."

We walked a little ways down the hall. I wasn't sure what to say to him about the tiara idea. I mean it was terrible but the thought behind it was sweet and what do you say to a kid with a sweet idea but an impractical gift? I wasn't sure. It occurred to me that I was probably a pretty shitty dad. I didn't know how to say stuff.

"Well... what if we hold up on the tiara 'til she becomes a princess then?" I suggested.

"Okay. I was thinking maybe a build-a-bear, too," he said.

"Maybe," I said. "Let's look around and see what we can find, okay?"

We dodged and ducked through the crowd, and I made periodic suggestions to Matty for Christmas gift ideas, but he didn't like any of them. We were maybe a quarter of the way through the mall from the door we'd gone in from when Matty said, "I'm hot."

I looked down at him. It was pretty hot in the mall. You could feel the pressure from all the body heat kinda building up and pushing against you. Plus Matty was wearing a jacket. I directed him to a little gap of space behind a Dead Sea Minerals kiosk and I helped him get the jacket off. I tossed it over my arm. Thinking we were all set, I started to stand up, but Matty ripped off his sweater, too. Underneath he had on a little t-shirt with the Despicable Me minions on it. He handed me the sweater and I tossed it over my arm, too. "Better?" I asked.

Matty nodded.

We started on again through the mall, me calling out store names and suggestions. We'd gone probably another tenth of the way around when Matty stopped walking. We were outside of Johnny Rockets, where there's a row of massaging chairs. "Can we stop a second?" he asked and he tugged his hand away to go over to the massaging chair closest to us. He crawled up on it, his face all crumbled in concern.

"Hey buddy, you okay?" I asked and I knelt down in front of him.

He closed his eyes.

"Matty?"

It sudenly occurred to me that I was with a very sick kid in a mall, alone, with no idea how to handle it when something went wrong. How could I possibly immature enough to have not asked Abbey for his doctors' phone numbers? I put my hands on his knees. His skin was warm, his cheeks flushed.
He opened his eyes and stared right into mine.

"I don't... feel... good, Mr. Nick," he mumbled.

"We gotta get you outta here," I said, and I started to stand up, but then Matty grabbed my hand from leaving his knee and squeezed tight, his eyes wincing shut. His little fingernails poked my skin. His other hand clutched his chest. I knew this look. I knew it because I'd seen Brian do it and it made my own heart stop. "Someone help!" I shouted, "I need a doctor!"

The bustling holiday shoppers moved on. Most of them completely unaware of the drama happening amongst them. Only a couple slowed a little to look our way, nobody came to help.

"Matty," I said, my voice urgent. "Matty." I grabbed his wrist and looked at his little monitor thing. His blood pressure was through the roof.

"Somebody!" I yelled, "Please! My son needs help!" I dropped his wrist and started fishing in my pocket for my cell phone. "It's gonna be okay Matty, it's gonna be okay," I mumbled again and again. People were starting to take notice. Even as I struggled to get my phone out I noticed there was somebody calling 911. Matty's eyes slid open and he stared at me, a little unfocused. "It's gonna be okay," I said again because I didn't know what else to say.

And suddenly there was a man kneeling beside me, "I'm a doctor," he said.

As the guy started talking, taking Matty down from the chair and laying him flat on the carpet, Matty's eyes never once moved from me.

Chapter Thirty-Four / 2013


Nick

I was sitting in the waiting room at Vanderbilt almost an hour later, my fingers laced behind my neck, staring down at my shoes. I tapped my foot nervously. I hated waiting for answers, and I hadn't seen anybody since Matty had been pulled off the ambulance. Monica Potter had been waiting at the bay for us as the vehicle pulled in, Matty's eyes closed, EMTs scrambling around him while I sat dumbfounded in the corner, shaking, holding his hand. He had a little oxygen mask over his nose, and his fingers had slipped away from mine as they wheeled him away into the hospital. "We're gonna take care of him," Dr. Potter had said, then she'd directed me to go and wait until they had news. My hands were sweating, I could barely breathe. All I could think about is how stupid I'd been, taking him out, not asking Abbey about doctors phone numbers or anything, and knowing nearly nothing about what to do if something happened.

I heard Abbey's voice in the hallway before I saw her. "Where is he? Where's Matthew?" She was shouting. I took a deep breath and got up and walked out into the hallway, following the sound of her panic-stricken voice. "Bring me to my son!" she screamed.

I came around the corner to find her leaning against the receptionist desk. "Abbey," I called.

She whirled around at the sound of my voice. "Nick!" Abbey ran toward me, the receptionist looked thankful I'd taken her off her hands. Her arms closed around me as she body slammed against me, her face pressing into my chest as tears fell across her cheeks. "Where is he? Is he okay? What the hell happened?"

I wrapped my arms around her, too. I could feel her trembling. "Dr. Potter's got him, I don't know much else." I started leading her down the hallway, back to the waiting room I'd been deposited in. Abbey clung to me, like I was holding her up, and I probably was. "We were walking 'round the mall and he suddenly said he was really hot --"

Abbey squeaked back a sob.

"-- so we got his jacket and sweater off, then we were walking again, and he wanted to take a break and he just -- I don't know. He was clutching his chest and everything, and -- I - I panicked and I started yelling for help. I was like, I need help - and someone called an ambulance and -- I dunno, we're here. And Dr. Potter said she's gonna take care of him." I guided her into a seat. She rocked herself gently as I sat next to her. "I'm sorry."

"I shouldn't have let him go," Abbey said, "He was saying he was hot earlier and -- he gets hot, he gets hot -- and I thought of it, and I didn't do anything or say anything --"

I rubbed her shoulder and we sat there in the waiting room together. Outside in the hallway, we could hear people shouting and a couple times doctors ran by and there was always something going on, always someone needing help, always something happening that kept people moving. I had this moment of surrealism as I sat there thinking about that, where I realized that every single person in the hospital had exactly the same wish at that moment. Everyone wanted their somebody to get better and none of us had the power to make it happen except these godlike doctors walking among us who knew that even their powers were limited, whose powers could only go just so far before things like fate and the perseverance of the human body had to take over. It occurred to me, sitting there in that waiting room, that we're all fragile and helpless when it really comes down to it.

Abbey's body felt warm in my arms. I didn't know what to say or do, so I just held her closer than I think I've ever held anybody in my life. It was a strange thing how much life had changed for me since Eddie had told me I'd be doing the Christmas Miracles program. To think, at the time, I thought that I was the one bestowing a miracle wish. All along, it'd been me getting one.

"He can't die," Abbey whispered thickly.

I shook my head. I couldn't even say the words.

It seemed like forever. The clock couldn't possibly have been moving at real speed. I found myself staring at the hands, making sure they were really moving, just feeling Abbey pressed against me. Now, I ain't a prayin' kinda guy - I usually leave the prayin' up to people like Brian who are homeboys with God, you know? That seems more effective to me in the long run. I mean, God ain't gonna say no to someone with as much good-boy credit as Brian's got, right? But sitting in the waiting room, staring at the clock, I realized I was thinking the same prayer over and over and over again...

Please God. Let us be a family. Please.




Abbey

Monica came into the waiting room with a slightly pale, worried expression on her face. She stood there in the doorway and took a deep breath, then started towards us. "No," I said, because I could see fear and hurt in her eyes. Because I thought the worst.

"Abbey, it's okay," she said, "Right now, he's stable."

Those two words were like gold. I choked a squeal of relief and I leaped from my seat in Nick's arms to hug her, but she held up her hands to stop me before I could. "But." I stopped in my tracks, my heart suddenly in my throat again. "His heart's over worked. He had an episode of congestive heart failure. We came very close to losing him. Dr. Danielson was the hero today. He got Matthew set up for a bypass with an extra-corporeal membrane oxygenation."

"What's that?" Nick's voice came from behind me. I could hear the tremble in it. I could feel the tremble in it - it was the same tremble running through me.

"It's a heart-and-lung machine. Essentially, it's a machine that is pumping the blood through his arteries, completely bypassing his heart. The blood is moved through the machine just before entering the heart, is oxygenated remotely, then replaced in Matty's veins on the other side. It gives his heart a chance to -- to completely rest."

"Rest?" I whispered.

"To take a break from beating."

I felt sick. "His heart isn't beating?"

Monica hesitated. "No," she said finally, "It's not."

I covered my mouth.

"The ECMO is a temporary solution until we can get a donor heart to replace his with," Monica explained.

"So he's safe. Until he gets a heart, he can just stay on the ECMO, right?" I asked. I felt giddiness starting to wash over me. This was bad but it was also kind of good. I wouldn't have to be worrying constantly, he'd be okay, we just had to wait. Eventually, surely a heart would come for him. He had time to wait now. He had time. And time was the best Christmas gift I could possibly have from him.

Monica's eyes said otherwise. "Unfortunately," she said slowly, "I wish I could say that he could stay on the ECMO indefinitely, but I can't... Abbey, most children live less than two weeks on the ECMO." Her voice had a very final tone to it. "And it's extremely risky performing the transplant because the body is more likely to reject an organ following ECMO. But there was no other options. This was the only way to save his life." She let out a low, shaky breath of air, tears threatened her eyes. "Abbey, this is Matthew's last chance."

I felt like I was falling. It wasn't until Nick swooped in and caught me that I realized I actually was falling. He held me up, let me lean against him. I felt dizzy and cold and hot all at once and Nick's arms were the only really solid thing I could feel. I knew Dr. Potter was still talking, but the severity of the situation, the reality that Matty could die very soon, was hitting me like a wall of bricks.

This was real.

"He's asking for you both," Monica said slowly, "And I'm going to bring you in to see him."

"He's awake?" I asked, incredulous.

She nodded. "But I need you to understand and remember that he is fresh out of a surgery, he doesn't look good. He is still partially open." Monica waved her hand at her chest to indicate where Matty's chest was split.

I nodded.

Nick's hands tightened on my shoulders as we followed Monica away from the comfort of the waiting room and on to the childrens' ICU.

Chapter Thirty-Five / 2013


Abbey

The ICU is too sterile for children. I've always thought that it's the most depressing place in the entire world. I clutched Nick's hands as we followed Dr. Potter to Matty's room. We had to wear gloves and gowns and all that ET-looking shit. At least they had bright colored gowns with Disney characters on them instead of plain blue like most ICUs have. Nick tugged on a big gown with the Phineas & Ferb characters while I shrugged into one with Winnie the Pooh. But when we went to go into the room, Nick hesitated at the door.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

He shuffled his weight from foot-to-foot. "I just.. I feel like... like maybe this is a you and Matty moment," he said.

"A me and Matty moment?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Like... like maybe I'd be imposing or something. I'll come in in a few minutes so you guys have a chance to be alone together."

"Okay," I said. I couldn't tell what I was feeling inside as I turned away. Was I disappointed in him for not coming in? Relieved? Confused? Was he right to allow me time alone with Matty? After all, Matty was my son. Well, he was Nick's too. But that was different. It was by blood not time invested. But he was working on that. And it was partly my own fault. It did feel like I should have a moment alone with him. But at the same time Nick belonged in there just as much as I did. Part of me felt guilty leaving him in the hallway.

But I did.

Matty was laying in the bed at a slight incline, his chest covered with pads and blankets so we couldn't see the opening in his chest, but it was indicated by the PVC tubes coming out from beneath the coverings to a machine on his left. The heart monitor on his side was still and silent, only registering blood pressure. I stared at it. I'd had nightmares about a flatlining monitor for seven years, I thought. And there it was, staring me right in the face.

"Mommy."

I snapped to attention. That little voice was all it took... I suddenly could see nothing but him. I swooped down and took his itty bitty hand in my own. "Hey sweetie," I said.

"Mommy, I didn't get to get your present at the malls."

Tears filled my eyes, "You don't have to get me anything," I whispered. "You're my present."

"I was gonna get you a good one," he said, voice creaky, eyes droopy.

I squeezed his hand, "You're the best there is," I said. I bent down and kissed his little cheek softly. "The very best."

"Is Mr. Nick here?" he asked.

I nodded, "He's right out in the hallway, sweetie."

Matty stared up at me, his little lips were so dry. With my free hand I reached into my pocket and fished out the chap stick I keep in there at all times and I slid it across his lips. He smiled weakly and his eyes drooped closed, then open again. "Mommy?" he asked as I recapped the chapstick and put it back in my pocket.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't nobody tell me Mr. Nick is my Daddy?" he asked thickly.

My throat constricted. I took a deep breath. "What?" I asked - because I couldn't believe my ears, couldn't believe he was asking me that question. I wanted to ask him how did you find out or something.

"Mr. Nick called me his son at the mall when he called for help."

I felt dizzy. Nick had called Matty his son? Nick had used the word son? I knew how colossal that must've been. I pictured poor Nick, panicked and calling for help, shouting the word he felt. A thrill went up my spine because at the base level, when the worst is in the midst of happening ,the subconscious of him had called Matthew his son.

"Is he my Daddy?"

I swiped my sweaty palms across the dressing gown. "I -- uh --"

Matty was staring up at me.

I took a deep breath. "One second, sweetie."

I ducked out of the door, sticking my head just outside. Nick was sitting on a plastic chair in the corner of the room where we'd been given the gowns. I hovered a moment. He was staring down at his hands. "Nick?" I said gently, stepping up to him. He looked up, eyes ringed in red. He'd been crying. He swiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Nick, you should come in with me."

"But - don't you want time to be a family, you and him?"

"Our family includes you, Nick."

He stared up at me with questioning eyes. "What?"

"Nick... it's time we told him who you are."




Nick

I didn't remember saying son at the mall. It must've been a base fear reaction. I say that not because I didn't feel it, but because I'd been real careful not to say anything because I didn't want Abbey to be upset I told him before she was ready for him to know. But she didn't seem upset as she told me what Matty had said when he asked her.

I followed Abbey back into Matty's room. I felt nervous. It was a strangely familar kind of nervous - the kind I used to get going on stage, when I was younger and more stage fright than I am today. An energetic kind of nervous.

Matty really didn't look good. It scared me how pale he was and how little he looked and how fragile he seemed in my mind. He looked over at me and I saw that his eyes looked worn and tired, like the eyes of an old man. He'd seen the trials of one, that's for sure. The smallest of smiles traveled over his lips, so faint it was like a whisper. Abbey followed me right over to his bed and Matty reached out his little hand for mine and squeezed my fingers in his grasp. "Mr. Nick," he said, his voice creaky and weak, "Are you my daddy?"

I nodded because words couldn't seem to form in my throat.

It was unpoetic, nodding the answer to such a hugely life-changing question. Almost anticlimatic. But it's all I could muster. I could feel emotions tearing apart my guts. I didn't know what to expect. Was he angry with me for not being there for seven years of his life? Hurt that I didn't tell him sooner? Was he disappointed in me, disappointed that after wondering all this time about his father he finds out it's someone like me, someone who could let him down as big as I felt like I had.

He squeezed my hand tighter. "I always wanted a Daddy," he whispered.

I opened my eyes -- I couldn't remember closing them, but I could feel tears leaking across my cheeks I didn't quite remember coming out of me either. It was a surreal moment, everything felt blurry around me.

"It's all I want for Christmas," he said.

I still couldn't speak. I couldn't. There were no words to say. My throat felt like it was sealed shut. I thought of the picture, the five-star wish, the one that I'd magneted to the fridge back home and I thought of Abbey asking me if we were together and the smiley face and the magic of the way she made me feel and how important it'd been that I be all the way in before we told Matty about who I was... and I was so, so, so in it all the way. There was no getting out for me, ever. And then, I felt Abbey's hand on my back, and I started to cry. I don't usually cry about stuff, but I couldn't not cry. Matty squeezed my hand even tighter. "Why are you cryin' Mr. Nick?"

Abbey was rubbing my back right alnog my spine. It felt so good, so reassuring. I hadn't felt so home in so long. Maybe even in all my life. "I'm just happy," I choked out to answer Matty.

"Happy?"

I nodded. "I'm happy because you're okay. And because I'm so proud of you."

Matty's little lips curled into a smile. "I'm happy too Mr. Nick," he said, "But it's silly to cry when you're happy. Crying's for sad."

"it's for happy too," I answered, and I pulled Abbey into a hug so I could feel my family.

Chapter Thirty-Six / 2013


Nick

We never left Matty's side that day, Abbey and I. We stayed right there beside him. I think we were both afraid to. Everything felt so perfectly fragile, like everything was balancing on one another. If any of us moved the whole thing could come crumbling down. So we sat, waiting for a miracle and playing board games and coloring. At least that's what we did until the ICU's visiting hours ended and Dr. Potter came to show us out.

Abbey took Matty's hand. "We're not leaving the hospital," she promised. "We're gonna sleep right here, right in a waiting room. We're never far away, okay?" She bent low and kissed Matty's forehead.

"Okay, mommy," he said. His eyes swiveled to me. "Night Mr. Ni---" he paused. "Daddy."

I felt my throat tighten at the title. I smiled and stepped up as Abbey backed away and planted a kiss on his forehead, too, only a little awkwardly. "You, too, buddy."

Matty stared up at me for a long moment, then he said, "Take care of my mom for me, okay?"

I glanced back at Abbey, whose eyes were wide and watery, then I turned back to Matty. I took a deep breath. "You're going to be okay," I whispered, "You're going to take care of her yourself." I stared into his eyes and it was there I could see the afraid-ness, the desire to make sure life would go on for those he left behind. I shook my head, "Don't gimme that look," I said thickly, "Don't even worry about that stuff." I bent lower and said - so quietly that even Abbey couldn't possibly have heard me, "Fuck what the doctors say, buddy. You aren't gonna die. I ain't had enough time with you yet. Okay? So don't you say good bye." I pulled back. "You understand me?"

Matty nodded.

"Okay good. I'll see you in the morning then."

"In the morning," he agreed, nodding.

I ruffled his hair and I followed Abbey out of the room after we all exchanged I Love Yous. Dr. Potter led us out of the ICU. She leaned against the door as we stepped into the hall of the general hospital atmosphere. She took a deep breath, "He's going to be okay. Don't worry. He's in good hands." She reached out and gave Abbey a hug.

Abbey nodded and the tears were flowing when she drew back from the hug. Monica waved at Abbey, "You heard the little fella, Nick. You take care of her. Good night you two."

"Night," I answered as I slid my arm around Abbey. "Hey," I said, "Hey it's okay."

"He practically said good bye," she choked.

I led her down the hall to a little waiting room and we let ourselves inside. "He's going to be okay," I answered, "You gotta just... believe... believe in miracles, you know?"

"It's awful hard to believe in a miracle I've been praying for over seven years' time, Nick," Abbey replied. "It's damn hard." She sank into a chair as I started pulling blankets and pillows from a closet in the corner. They smelled like moth balls and laundry detergent and hospital. Abbey covered her eyes.

I threw the blankets and pillow down onto the floor and pushed a chair against the door to keep it closed and give us some privacy. I walked over to her and pulled her up from the chair gently, tugging her right into my chest. "C'mere baby," I whispered and I pressed my face against her hair, breathing her in.

Abbey wrapped her arms around me and I felt her face snuggle closer to me, her tears soaking my chest as she cried onto me. I swayed gently, rocking her to and fro. She shook in my arms. I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to make everything better. And I guess that's one of the signs that you really, really love someone, when you can feel like you'd take the whole world up for them just to make'em smile again.

"I love you," I whispered.

She started crying harder.

At some point, we lowered ourselves onto the blankets I'd thrown all over the floor and slid underneath them and I held her 'til she fell asleep crying - tears punctuated by little nervous hiccups. I gently pushed the hair off her forehead where it was all stuck to her skin funny and stuff. I lay there staring up at the corner of the room where the walls met the ceiling, thinking, wishing... I guess praying and waiting, too.

I closed my eyes.

I suppose I fell asleep... because the next thing I knew I was being awakened by a loud humming - the vibrating of a cell phone against a hard surface. I rolled and I looked up and I saw both mine and Abbey's phones on one of the little end tables beside us - both screens lit up, Abbey's the one currently vibrating, dancing in little circles around the table. I reached, stretching my arms for it, and grabbed hold of it.

"Abbey," I shook her. "Abbey wake up. Dr. Potter's calling."

I swiped my thumb across the phone. "What's happened?" I choked, afraid of the answer.

"You need to come back to the ICU immediately," Dr. Potter said, her voice shaking. "This is it."

"On our way." I hung up and I turned to Abbey, whose eyes were open, a frightened expression on her face as she stared up at me from beneath the blankets, her eyes wide. "We gotta get back to the ICU," I said.

Abbey's eyes filled with tears. "I'm scared. I don't wanna go."

I pulled her close, "I know it's scary, but we gotta go there baby, you'd hate yourself forever if we didn't go. We gotta be there."

Abbey nodded, and we got up, left the blankets as they lay on the floor. I dunno about Abbey, but everything seemed to move in slow motion for me, like we were moving underwater, like the whole world was at half speed. I clung to Abbey's shoulders - as much to steady myself as to steady her - and we walked down the hallway, retracing our steps we'd taken the night before, back to the children's ICU, back through all the antibacterial stations, back to the room where we'd gotten the gowns. I tied hers at the back of her neck and bent low so she could tie mine.

We were pulling on gloves as Dr. Potter came into the room. "Quickly," she urged, "He's asking to see you."

Abbey choked back a sob... and we followed Dr. Potter out of the room.




Abbey

I wasn't prepared for this. After seven years of worrying and nightmares and rushing to hospitals in the back of ambulances... I still wasn't prepared. I could never prepare. I was so thankful for Nick's hands on my shoulders - all heavy and there and reassuring. I don't think I could've followed Monica if it hadn't have been for him. I couldn't have moved or breathed. I put my hand over his, holding him there so he wouldn't go away, so he seemed more real.

I realized they must have moved Matty because his door had been close enough to the room with the gowns that the night before I'd just stuck my head out to find Nick. Yet Monica was leading us away from that room, down the hallway, her doctor shoes tapping the floor as she moved hurriedly. "Right this way... right this way..." she ushered us along.

And then she stopped and she reached for the handle of the door and pushed it open and we spilled into the room. It was a preop room or something, different than the rooms Matty had previously been in. And there was a curtain pulled shut around the bed and we couldn't see him until Monica reached for it and pulled it back and ----

It was Phil.

Old Phil, the veteran with the bad hip that'd been wandering around for months in the hospital hallways. My mind spun out. "What? What's going on? Where's my son? What are you doing here?" I choked.

Nick's hands tightened on my shoulders.

"What a way to greet a dying old man," Phil's voice warbled out of his mouth all shaking and uneven. He held out a hand to me. "Get over here." I walked numbly, leaving Nick behind. I glanced back. He looked stunned, his jaw dropped in surprise. I reached Phil's side and he grabbed onto my hand. "Well ain't you a pretty sight for these old sore eyes," he mumbled.

I stared down into his old eyes... and then I realized what he'd said. "Dying? You aren't dying."

"I am, sweetie," he said. And he patted my hand, staring up at me. "Now you listen here. When I go - and I'm about to - I'm givin' my ticker to your kid." He patted his chest.

I felt my knees weaken, "But --"

"No buts," he interrupted, "I only have a couple requirements."

I nodded. Tears were pouring down my cheeks, unstoppable. Phil reached up and thumbed them away from my cheeks. "Now now, stop crying, this is all just sentimental bullshit, really. You've been a good kid to me, always sayin' hi and the like. Not many people take time to greet an old man in the hallway, not many people take time to come visit me. Your kid plays a mean game of Battleship, let me tell you." He took a shaking, shallow breath that was evidently supposed to be quite deep, but didn't quite reach where he had wanted it to go. He winced, and I squeezed his hand and he opened up his eyes and stared up at me. "Yes, my requirements. Now, I want my heart to serve the kid well and I know it ain't gonna last him forever - it's an old heart -- some might even say too old, but it's good, I've taken care of it, and Dr. Potter says it'll keep him good until he can get a better one someday. Maybe some fancy cyborg crap like they been working on in them tech labs they got at the government." He eyeballed me. "So I want you to make sure that kid of yours takes care of it, too. Make him exercise or some crap. Don't let him become some lazy bum out on the street. If he's gonna be carrying around my heart he's gonna have to hold his own, not be some using creeper. Maybe he can become a cop or a soldier or something. He's gonna have to be brave. So you're going to have to make him that way. Be a good mother and all that crap, no breaking this heart with bad words and shit." Phil cleared his throat. Then he looked over at Nick. "And you. You better be there for them. Take care of them. I ain't gonna be around to shove my walker up your ass if you hurt'em anymore but don't think a second my heart ain't gonna get real pissed off if you hurt'em. I'll haunt you 'til the day you die, boy, you understand me?"

Nick stepped up closer, "You ain't got nothin' to worry about there, old man," he said. Nick's voice was so calm and level and I remembered, as he reached out and patted Phil's knee, that he'd grown up around old people at the nursing home his mother worked at --- I remembered reading about that with Melly years and years and years ago.

Phil looked back up to me. "You tell that boy to follow his dreams everyday," he said thickly. "Every damn day you wake up you follow your dreams because thats how you save lives." He let out a shaking breath. "This was my dream. I said to Dr. Potter when I first met you that when I go I wanna save that boy's life with my heart if he ain't got one yet, and she said I'd have to keep my heart in good shape, and doggone it if I ain't walked a mile around this hospital every day since to keep it beating good for him."

I thought of all the times I saw Phil walking around the hospital with his walker, taking steps with faces of determination -- all that time I'd thought he'd been exercising for himself, for his hips, because of doctors orders and all that time it'd really been for Matty.

Phil breathed out - it was even more shallow than before. "Now go tell him the news and let me die in peace," he said and he pulled his hand away from me and closed his eyes.

Nick patted Phil's knee again gently, then backed away. But I couldn't bear to back off. I felt so thankful and so sad and so happy all at once, it was such a confusing feeling. I grabbed at his hand again and he opened one eye. "I don't know what to say," I choked out. "I want to say thank you but that barely even seems appropriate... You're saving us, Phil, you're saving our family, you're giving Matty a chance at life like a real kid and I can't --- I can't even ---" I covered my mouth with my extra hand as he stared up at me. I could see the your welcome in his eyes, glistening there, masked by tears.

"Aw go on and get out of here before I change my mind and keep on living," he grumped. But I knew he meant the your welcome I saw in his eyes more than the cranky words.

I turned to Nick and he wrapped his arms around me. Then I felt one arm move from me as he turned to face Phil and I looked up at him to watch as Nick saluted him army style. Phil smiled and he lifted a shaking hand and saluted Nick right back. Then Nick wrapped his arm back around me and guided me from the room.

Chapter Thirty-Seven / 2013


Abbey

"I feel strange," I said numbly.

Nick and I were back in the waiting room, wrapped up in our blankets on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, my head nested in the crook of his underarm. He slid his fingers gently across the skin of my shoulder on the other side. He'd been pretty quiet after coming back from Phil's room.

"I feel like we're just... laying here, waiting for Phil to die," I said thickly. "It's like I want him to but I don't and it's s oconfusing. I feel guilty."

Nick shook his head. "Don't feel guilty."

"But he's dying."

"You heard him in there," Nick's voice was low, wise. "It was his dream. He worked hard for this - for Matty - for you." He took a deep breath, "He's an old man and he's lived a good life and he's dying and he found a way to make it count."

"It's just sad and strange and -- just so sad," I said.

Nick shrugged. "I don't know. I kinda get it. A lot of guys from war generations have a hero complex, y'know? They saw their buddies killed in action, had opportunities to give up their lives for the greater good, to save lives, and they didn't get to actually do it, you know? So they wanna die with honor, they wanna die a hero. I think what all happened is something kinda -- well, kinda beautiful really. Matty needed a heart and Phil needed somebody to give his heart to."

We lay there in silence for several long moments as I thought about the words Nick had said, let their meanings melt over me. It occurred to me that maybe Nick understood Phil more than he was letting on. Maybe Nick, too, had needed somebody to give his heart to when he'd found Matty and I.

I breathed in the smell of him, thankful he was there.

It was over an hour later that my phone vibed in my pocket. Nick and I had laid in silence just feeling each other's presence the entire time. I slid my phone out and I held it up so we could both see and opened the message. It was a text from Dr. Potter, informing us that Phil had passed away five minutes before and they were about to begin the harvest operation. She invited us to the ICU to see Matty before they started to prep him to receive the donation.

I covered my eyes with my palm, tears pouring down my cheeks. I thought of Phil and the playful gleam in his eyes and that creaky old walker heading down the hallways, always grumpily shouting hello and it broke my heart that he was gone. But not entirely, a whisper came into my mind, No, never entirely. He's still going to be alive in Matty.

Nick sat up and he started gathering up the pillows and blankets off the floor and shoved them into the cupboard he'd gotten them from the night before. Together, we headed back to the ICU, back to Matty. My hands shook as I slid into the gown and Dr. Potter greeted us at Matty's room door. She was holding his charts, a nervous/excited expression on her face. "We were just about to go in and tell him the news," she said as we approached. I was about to ask who we was when Dr. Danielson came up behind us.

"The OR is booked and ready," he said. Then he noticed us and he smiled a wary sort of smile.

Monica turned and led the way into Matty's room. He was asleep when we first opened the door, but his eyes fluttered opened as we all gathered around his bed. Dr. Danielson stood at the end of the bed and put his hands on Matty's feet. "Matthew," he said, "I think we have some exciting news for you."

Matty looked over at me and Nick, then back at Monica and Dr. Danielson. "What is it?" he asked.

"Matthew," Monica said, stepping forward and hugging her clipboard to her chest, "We have a heart for you."

Matty stared up at her and his eyes slowly filled with tears, "You - you do?" he asked.

Monica nodded.

"So... I'm not gonna die?" he asked.

Monica reached out a hand and reassuredly put it on top of his. "Not on my watch, little man."

Matty held out his arms and Monica leaned over the bed and gave him a big hug. He squeezed his arms around her neck, his little eyes shut tight, tears falling across his cheeks. I realized for the first time that he'd known all along how fragile his condition was and it ocurred to me how scared he probably had been.

"Where'd my heart come from?" Matty asked as Monica pulled back from the hug.

She took a deep breath. "You remember Phil, don't you, Matthew?" she asked gently.

He closed his eyes and more tears streamed across his face. "Mr. Phil gave me his heart?" he asked. When he opened his eyes, I could see that he understood the implications of the donation - that Phil was gone and his heart was all that was left.

"He wanted you to have a chance to enjoy your family," Dr. Danielson supplied.

I stepped forward and took Matty's hand, "He wanted you to be a dreamer," I said. "He told me to tell you that, to always follow your dreams."

Matty nodded.

Dr. Danielson cleared his throat, "Well. We'll leave the three of you alone for a couple of moments, but we need to head down to the OR. The transport team will be in in just a moment to collect Matthew... There's only a brief period of time in which the heart will be viable for transplantation. We can't miss that window." He bowed out of the room.

Monica hesitated at the door. Then, "I'm so happy for all of you," she said thickly, "Of all the patients that I've seen over the years, I've never prayed so hard for one to get the miracle." She smiled, and followed Dr. Danielson out of the room.

I turned to Matty, and I took his hands. I couldn't believe all the years of worrying and wondering and waiting and being afraid was about to come to an end.

"Are you scared?" Nick asked.

Matty shook his head. Then he hesitated and he said, "Well. Maybe a little."

Nick came up and leaned behind me so we were both by Matty's side. "Well you're gonna do great in there," he said as he put his hand over mine and Matty's. "And when you get out, we're gonna do this whole family Christmas thing right." He smiled.

"Promise?" Matty asked.

Nick nodded, "Cross my heart."

Matty laughed weakly. "You're so silly Mr. Ni--Daddy."

Nick laughed back and the three of us huddled together until the transport team came for Matthew and guided the hospital bed out of the room. "I love you," I called after him as they rolled him away. I clutched Nick's hands, shaking. "I love you so, so much," I said.

"I love you guys," Matty said back as they turned the corner into the hallway.

I squeezed Nick's hands tight in mine. "I don't know if I can handle this wait," I choked.

Nick pulled me close.




Nick

It'd been several hours since they'd wheeled Matty out of the ICU room, headed for the OR to perform the transplant and we'd heard barely a thing other than the promise that the heart had been harvested from Phil's body perfectly and that it was inspected thoroughly by Dr. Danielson and in excellent condition, despite its age.

Abbey and I were back in the waiting room, sitting in the chairs, huddled up together. There were a few other people in there now, all of us nervously waiting. One of the other people kept giving me sidelong glances and I had a feeling she knew who I was but was respectful enough to leave me be. I rested my head agaist the side of Abbey's. "I was thinking," I said quietly.

She moved to look up at me.

"It's gonna be real lonely up in my big ol' house alone," I said, "And Nacho's gonna miss Matty. And... and I wanna spend all the time I can around him, you know? I don't wanna just be like a visitor or something...."

Abbey was quiet a moment.

"My house is also closer to Vanderbilt than your apartment is. And there's this really great school..."

"Nick," she said quietly, "Are you asking us to move in with you?"

"Well, not like immediately, but... you know, soon."

A smile spread across Abbey's face. She hugged my arm. "Once the dust all settles," she agreed and closed her eyes as her cheek pressed against my skin. "I never imagined seven years ago that I'd be sitting here," she said.

"Me either," I replied. "Then again, I never imagined a couple weeks ago that I would be sitting here." I laughed. "Shit my life's changed so much in a month... It doesn't even seem like it's been only a month though. Feels like a lifetime ago."

Abbey nodded, "I know what you mean."

Suddenly, Dr. Potter appeared in the doorway. Abbey and I stood up and she collected her purse and we rushed out into the hallway after Dr. Potter, who led us on through the corridors. "Is he okay? How'd it go?" Abbey was asking as we walked.

Dr. Potter smiled, "Everything went very well," she revealed, "He's doing good, all his stats are steady so far and the heart beat is strong. Obviously we still need to keep observing very carefully, he's not anywhere near out of the woods, the body could still reject the organ, but as of right now he's doing extremely well." She pulled open a doorway labelled recovery and once more we were made to put on the goofy hospital scrubs and stuff before being led into the room.

Matty was laying in the bed furthest from the door. The heart moitor by his side was beeping merrily, a heart beat thumping across the screen. He had on an oxygen mask, his eyes closed as he breathed deeply, his chest covered with loose bandages, but the PVC pipes were, thankfully, gone. He looked small, still, but somehow less helpless than he had the other times we'd come to see him. His cheeks were pinker than I'd ever seen, and I know it was in my head but it seemed like I could see the heart was working, like I could see it making him stronger, just in the way his limbs lay, in the way his face set while he slept, in the way his chest moved up and down... all these things seemed different, even though they were probably the same.

"He hasn't woken up yet," Dr. Potter said quietly as she adjusted something on an IV to his left. "I wanted to make sure you two were here when he woke up." She smiled and tapped a couple buttons on the monitor and wrote down notes about the numbers it displayed on her clipboard thingy. She slid it into place, hooked over the end of Matty's bed, and smiled at us. "I'm so very happy for all of you," she said, "And I'm so very glad I've gotten to know you over the years, and that I got to see this family pull together. It's been a real Christmas miracle, all of it."

Abbey nodded, "It really has," she agreed.

"If you need anything," Dr. Potter said, "Just press the call button and I'll be there." She turned and walked out of the room.

Abbey stood by Matty as I grabbed a couple chairs from by the window and pulled them over to his bedside. She smoothed a piece of his hair behind his ear before sitting down beside me. "He looks so much like his daddy," she said.

I chuckled and put my arm around the back of her chair.

It was a little bit before Matty woke up. His eyes slowly fluttering open, adjusting to the bright lights that glared down at him from above. He oriented himself, glancing around the room each direction, and then looking over at me and Abbey. "Is it in me?" he asked, then, because he could feel it beating, he smiled and he said, "I can feel it." He looked down at his chest, grinning, "I can feel it beating better!"

What a strange feeling, I thought as Abbey and I stood up and crowded around Matty excitedly, to have felt an irregular, broken heart for so long that when you felt what it really feels like for a heart to work like it should, you can feel the difference, you can feel it beating right in your chest the way everyone else just takes for granted sometimes. But I guess I kinda understood because it was exactly the way I felt about this family that I'd gotten over the past month. Sure they were still brand new to me but there was no way anyone was ever gonna take'em away from me because they were mine, and I'd felt a broken heart and a broken family for so long that now that I was in a good one I knew it, I could feel it all around me, and I wasn't gonna take it for granted.

Chapter Thirty-Eight / Christmas


Nick

Abbey and I dropped onto the couch and stared up at the tree lights glowing against the walls in her apartment. I wrapped my arm over her shoulder as we admired our handiwork. Santa Claus had just come to town and Matty was going to be delighted at the assortment of toys that cluttered the space under the tree. It'd been about two weeks since the surgery and even though we'd spent December 25th in the hospital wings listening to a local church go room to room singing Christmas carols, we were celebrating Christmas ourselves a couple nights late. Luckily, Jeraldo had relayed our message to the North Pole so Santa knew not to let the reindeer retire for the season just yet.

Abbey looked up at me, a smile curling on her lips in the colorful light of the tree.

We fell asleep only to be awakened by Matty when he came out of his room - not running, but still excited. "Jeraldo really told Santa!" he shouted when he saw all the presents we'd laid out around the room and the half-eaten cookies whose crumbs I quickly swiped off the chest of my shirt as I sat up before he could see them. "I can't believe it!" he sat down an started rolling a plastic Batmobile around the bottom of the tree in exciitement.

Abbey stirred and saw him playing at our feet and sat up, "Merry Christmas," she yawned as she stretched.

"Thanks mom!" he said and he dove for another toy a couple inches away.

He was doing great. He was still on the medication to keep his body from rejecting the new heart, but so far it had taken quite well and he'd sailed through the recovery time without any complications. Dr. Potter had said that she was surprised by how incredibly well his body had adjusted. He wasn't 100% yet, obviously, it was still fresh, still new -- but he was on his way. Phil had done an excellent job with his dream, preparing his heart to save Matty's life. Little did he know he'd saved mine, too.

Abbey made pancakes and we had sausages and curled up on the couch all together, our plates balanced on our knees as we ate and watched It's a Wonderful Life. We unwrapped presents and played Monopoly and Hungry Hungry Hippos and Rock'em Sock'em Robots on the living room carpet. Nacho chewed happily on a Christmas rawhide cookie we'd bought him and magic seemed to hang in the air all around us. It was easily the best Christmas I'd ever had.

And that night when it was time to tuck Matty up in bed, Abbey handed the book to me and she sat on the floor holding Matty's hand, both of them staring up at me, as I read the bedtime story. I've never read a bed time story before, despite all the kids I've been around in my life, so I worked hard to do it right, the way I remembered my grampa reading us bedtime stories and stuff, with voices and sound effects and everything. When I was finished, Matty's eyes were droopy, but a big smile was on his face as he drifted off to sleep.

Abbey pushed his hair out of his face and we snuck out of the room, leaving him and Nacho curled up under his Iron Man blankets.




Abbey

Nick and I were back on the couch later, watching some stupid sci-fi about Santa Claus being kidnapped by martians on Netflix. We'd laughed through the whole thing - even if it was incredibly corny - and shared a little of the special egg nog that I'd mixed for us. It tasted as warm as I felt sitting with Nick. Then, just before Santa taught the martians how to celebrate Christmas without kidnapping its greatest iconic figurehead, Nick leaned over and pressed a kiss to my mouth. I kissed him back.

"I think Santa forgot to give one last gift," he whispered, and he reached behind him and pulled a box out of his pocket. My heart raced. He couldn'nt be proposing. No, it was way too fast for that. I panicked as he put the box into my hands. It was too light - too small. What was I going to say? I didn't want to say no, but at the same time it was too soon to say yes. I didn't wanna break his heart, though. Not on Christmas. And what if he took a no the wrong way entirely, took it to mean never? Cos I would want to say yes eventually, just not yet...

"Go on," he whispered, "Open it."

With a shaking, reluctant hand, I slid the ribbon away from the box and pulled the lid off slowly. My throat was throbbing in time with my heart like it was up inside it or something. But when I looked into the box, I, thankfully, didn't see the glint of a diamond. Instead, there were several pieces of folded up paper. He watched nervously as I pulled out the first one. It was a napkin with the logo of the club we'd met at on Halloween seven years ago. And the second was the yellow parking ticket he'd gotten for illegally parking on the street in front of the club. Next was a cover page torn from the inside of a book with my phone number scribbled across the bottom. And under that an empty condom wrapper.

I laughed, "A condom wrapper?"

"It's from the first night we had together here," he said.

I felt my cheeks turn red. I looked at all the things and I whispered, "I can't believe you saved all this stuff." I ran my hand over the napkin, "Is this really from that night?"

"I used several napkins just like it rubbing zombie bride make up off your face," he laughed.

I nodded. I remembered. I didn't realize he did.

It was simple, but it was perfect. "I love it," I said, "I love that you saved all this stuff."

"I love you," he replied, and he leaned closer and hugged me tight and I thought to myself as I stared down at the napkin and the parking ticket and the scribbled phone number that maybe a diamond wouldn't have been so terrible a thing to open up the box to see. I pictured what it would be like to be Mrs. Nick Carter...

I know what I'll want next year for Christmas.

"So," he said quietly, "What do you think? You think we've done okay this Christmas?"

"Done okay?" I said, chuckling, "We all three got everything we wanted. I think we did...fine."

"We did great," he agreed, snuggling into me.

I kissed him softly, smiling as I whispered, "That's it."