Brian was asleep on the couch. He'd been watching a show on Country Music Television about Johnny Cash when he'd fallen asleep. The phone rang, waking him up. He felt disoriented. The remote control was just past his finger tips on the floor, and a line of drool hung from him mouth to the pillow. He groggily gathered his thoughts as the telephone pierced the night. He reached for the phone, his heart rate climbing. Last time he'd answered the phone at this hour after falling asleep watching TV....
"Hmm?" he mumbled into the phone.
"I did it."
"Hmm?"
Nick's voice was hushed, but jubliant. "I. Did. It."
"Why are you calling me to tell me you had sex?" Brian muttered.
"Nooo, not that," Nick laughed, "But that is coming up. No I mean I did it -- it Brian, it. I asked Laur to marry me."
Brian sat up. He looked at the clock. Surely he was dreaming right now. He had to be. "You what?"
"I asked Lauren to marry me."
"But you didn't go get a ring yet."
"I got one out of a vending machine at LAX - I couldn't wait. We're gonna go tomorrow and get the ring. She'll pick out one she likes better then I couldda anyways."
Brian tried to imagine Nick picking out a diamond ring. He was probably right about Lauren picking her own out better than Nick could've... the image of Nick asking what carrots had to do with diamonds was just too vivid. "Congratulations," Brian said.
"Thanks. Look, I gotta go, she's almost ready and - well, I don't wanna keep her waiting ya'know, but I just wanted to tell you something."
"What's that?"
"If I can do it, you can do it. Grow a pair. Night, Frick." And with that, Nick hung up the phone.
Brian sat a bit dumbstruck for a moment, then put the receiver back on the dock and laid down into the cushions of the sofa with a groan. He stared up at the ceiling. Nick -- married. It was something that he'd never dreamt he'd ever see the day of. He half wanted to go outside and see if the pigs were flying yet.
Two months passed. Brian hadn't heard much from Emma, other than the occassional awkward phone call letting him know that treatment had gone well and when the next cycle would be so he could plan on coming with her to fill out the insurance paperwork yet again. Brian found himself focusing on writing music again, and spent most nights up in the living room, strumming his guitar, humming tunes and writing down notes on the blank sheets he'd printed up. Baylee's attitude slowly adjusted as he realized with more and more confidence that Emma was out of their lives and pretty soon he was sitting on the floor in the living room doing homework, asking Brian for help with complex math problems, or in the kitchen while Brian cooked dinner - something he was getting etter at - working on reports.
Christmas was right around the corner and the Littrell boys were out buying a new plastic Christmas tree and lights and ornaments - Brian hadn't had the heart to bring the old ones - and Baylee squawked excitedly about the lastest gadget-majig he wanted for Christmas. Brian knew that the gadget-majig was hiding on the top shelf of his bedroom closet, right behind a box of old family photographs with Leighanne in them. He also knew that the only thing that he wanted for Christmas he'd never get.
It was December 10th when Emma called to remind Brian the next day they had to go fill out paperwork for the next round of treatment and Brian was amazed how quickly the time had passed. He assured Emma that he'd meet her at the hospital the next day at one o'clock.
"Would you mind dropping me off at Molly's afterwards?" Emma asked, "Molls and Jake's anniversary is tomorrow and they wanted to take off in the morning - I mean if you can't that's okay, too..."
"No," Brian replied, "I can drop you off, no problem. I have to go by their place to pick Baylee up from school anyway, so a quick pit stop is no problem at all. Tell Molly and Jake I said happy anniversary."
"Thanks Brian," Emma said. She always fought the urge at this point of their phone calls to burst out with I love you, but she'd managed to bite her tongue thus far. It was moments like that -when she had to swallow back her feelings for him- that Emma was glad all those years she'd spent missing him he'd never returned and requested that they be friends. She'd never have been able to withstand that for so long. As it was, it was killing her, and she was avoiding him like crazy.
"Have a g'night Em," Brian said, hanging up the phone.
Emma held the receiver in her hands, her throat swelling up. It literally ached to love him so much and not be able to tell him so.
When she returned to the living room, Molly and Jake were sitting on the couch watching a movie - it sounded like Jaws - and Emma announced, "Ya'll are good to go in the morning. Brian's gonna pick me up and drop me off after we do the paperwork."
"Okay," Jake called.
Molly winced and covered her eyes, fixiated on the movie, oblivious to Emma.
"Night guys," Emma said. Jake absently waved.
Upstairs in her room, Emma lowered onto her bed with a sigh. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over her vanity table. In the last two months, her hair had managed to grow back a little bit. Her fishing cap had been retired until next time it all fell out. She ran her fingers through it and smiled, thinking how much she'd miss it. She tilted her head in the mirror. Brian hadn't seen her with hair yet, she realized, and she moved to get closer to the glass. She wondered if maybe he'd look at her differently now that she wasn't bald - if maybe he'd see her and want to make what they had more.
She spent a few minutes playing with her hair, clipping barrettes into it and looking this way and that way in the mirror before she sighed and put the hair clips down. She crawled onto the bed and hugged her knees, staring into the darkness.
