“I- uh--- I rented a carpet shampooer this morning, so your room’s clean, but if you’d be more comfortable staying in mine, I’d be happy to stay in here or on the couch, or....” Nick trailed off and gazed hesitantly at the tired woman leaning into the doorframe beside him. She stared into the room and squinted at the carpet next to right side of her bed.

“This is fine.” She sighed and dragged her feet across the freshly shampooed carpet, hugging herself as she shivered against an imaginary chill in the air.

“Can I get you anything? Maybe some water or a snack? I think every hospital must have it in their by-laws that they have to serve terrible food.” He gave her a cautious smile. “I’m sure you’re probably hungry.”

“I’m fine.” Annie stared stoically ahead of her and dropped onto the edge of the bed. Nick sighed and eased himself down beside her.

“You’re not fine.” He placed his hand tentatively atop the black sweatpants covering her knee and she immediately tensed under his touch.

“Can you go check on Drew?”

“I just put him in his crib. He fell asleep in the car on the way home, remember?”

“Just go check on him, okay?”

“Okay.” Nick grunted as he stood and headed towards the door. “We’re going to have to talk about this eventually, Annie,” he said firmly as he walked out.

As he was leaving Drew’s room just a few moments later, he was startled by the sound of “Brickhouse” blaring from his back pocket. He jumped to answer it quickly, hoping that
the noise hadn’t woken the little boy. “AJ?” He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Drew’s eyes were still closed, and his body still in the same position, his expression serene.

“Why are we whispering?” AJ whispered back with a little chuckle.

“Drew’s asleep,” Nick answered matter-of-factly, as if naptime was something he worried about every day.

“Oh. So, you’re with Annie?”

“I’m at Annie’s, yes. I told you I was coming to Nashville for a few days before my tour starts.”

“Right. And how are things going with Annie?”

“They’re... fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes. Fine!” Nick hissed. In uncomfortable silence, he bounded down the stairs, headed for the kitchen.

“So, uh-- the women. They talk.”

“Okay...”

“They talk,” AJ reiterated. “About everything.”

“Yeah. So?” He rummaged through the pantry in search of a can of chicken noodle soup. Sure, Annie had said she was “fine,” but he knew better, and she needed to eat. He assumed she’d say she couldn’t stomach anything, but anyone could stomach chicken noodle soup, right?

“Ro and Lauren are still pretty close, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry about the whole having to rearrange the wedding march thing.”

“No. I’m sorry. I should have thought about it before the rehearsal. It’s my bad. Really,” AJ reassured him.

“AJ, why are you calling me to talk about chatty women? You know you’re worse than all of them, so just spill it.”

AJ sighed and cleared his throat. “I know things. Because of the chatty women, I know things.”

A can of peas that Nick had picked up to look behind clattered onto the granite countertop. “What kinds of ‘things’?”

“Things like the fact that you drunk dialed Lauren last night.”

“You know I do crazy-assed shit when I’m drunk, AJ.”

“True. But why were you so drunk last night that you were doing crazy-assed shit like calling your ex while you’re in Tennessee shacking up with your new girlfriend and her kid?”

“I’m not ‘shacking up’ with her,” Nick rebutted.

“Stop avoiding the question. What happened yesterday?”

“Annie has the flu. She's been sick in bed and I got bored, so I drank."

"Bullshit."

"AJ, what do you want?" Nick returned the peas to their spot on the shelf and slammed the cabinet door shut.

AJ's voice softened. "You never told me about what happened with Lauren."

"That's all water under the bridge, AJ." Nick opened the next cabinet door in line.

"Is it?"

"Of course it is." He silently cheered when he found a neat little row of the characteristic red and white cans stashed on the middle shelf and started skimming the fronts of them. Tomato, cream of celery...

"Calling your ex to talk about it makes it water under the bridge? Sounds like crossing over the bridge to me. Maybe the bridge has a few boards missing? Or some cracks in the concrete? Are you about to fall off the bridge, Nick?"

"Jackpot!" Nick grabbed the can of chicken noodle and thrust it into the air triumphantly.

"Jackpot you're off the bridge? Holy shit, do I need to come down there?! Is the bridge kind of like the wagon?" AJ asked in a panic.

"What are you talking about? Jackpot-- I found the soup!" Nick stooped down and retrieved a small pot by the handle from a cabinet underneath the counter.

“Is soup code for something?”

“No. Chicken noodle, man!”

“What?”

“What?” Nick paused with the pot hovering over the burner on the stove. “Did I miss something?”

AJ groaned. “You’re obviously distracted. I just wanted you to know that I know some things, and if you ever need to talk, I’m there for ya, okay? Don’t get out of control, Nick. Call me before that happens, okay?”

“Um...okay. Thanks, I guess.”

AJ sighed. “Take care of yourself, Nick.”

“Sure thing, J,” Nick said casually, his head spinning from the cryptic and weird conversation he’d just had with his bandmate. He was a little pissed that Lauren had apparently chosen to blab all their secrets to her friends, his brother’s wife included, but he figured AJ didn’t know everything. He couldn’t, because he hadn’t told Lauren everything..... had he? Besides, he had bigger problems at the moment. Namely, the broken woman in bed upstairs.

He waited for the soup to come to a boil and spooned it out into a bowl. Then, he arranged it, along with a spoon, a napkin, some saltine crackers, and a glass of water, around the smiling face of a blue dinosaur that adorned the top of a tray he’d found in the closet and walked carefully upstairs. Annie’s door was cracked open just slightly, and a thin, faint beam of sunlight from her window streamed onto the carpet in the darkened hallway. He used his shoulder to gently nudge the door open and peeked inside. Annie was laying on her side with her head propped up in one hand while she turned the flimsy page of a dark pink, leather-bound bible that rested on the sheet beside her. “Hey,” he said softly.

She glanced quickly in his direction, then focused her eyes back on the bible. “Hey.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just.....” He gestured down to the tray he grasped in his shaking hands. “I brought you some lunch.”

“I really don’t think I can stomach anything right now,” she said without looking up.

“I knew you’d say that.” He crossed the room and placed the tray on her nightstand. “But it’s just chicken noodle soup. Surely, you can stomach chicken noodle soup.”

“Fine.” She sat up and placed the ribbon sewn into the spine of the bible to keep her place, then sighed as she pulled the tray into her lap and picked up the spoon.

Nick stood beside the bed and looked down at her with his hands on his hips. Even when she was sick and sad and avoiding him, he couldn’t look away. Her auburn curls were tied away from her face in a low ponytail, and her cheeks were still ashen, but he found her beautiful anyway.

“What are you doing?” she asked him with the spoon poised just in front of her mouth.

“Um.... nothing. Just...watching you.” He groaned and stepped closer. “I need to know if you’re okay. And if you’re not okay.....” He ran the backs of his fingers across her jawline. “I wanna be here with you through it.”

She clenched her eyes shut, but a single, stray tear tumbled down her cheek anyway, and she turned away as he attempted to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. “Nick, please. Not now, okay? I just can’t...” He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave her a silent nod before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

And so it went for the next two days. Annie holed herself up in her room, burying herself under the comforter, and avoiding all of Nick’s attempts to talk to her by answering his questions with one-word responses and turning her back to him when he walked in her room. Nick kept himself busy by cooking, cleaning, and playing with Drew. He found himself growing even more attached to the little guy, and in the back of his mind, feared that once Annie had regained her strength, she would march down the stairs and kick him out. He’d never see either of them again. Yet, that couldn’t really happen, could it? It was his house, right? Maybe that was the only reason she hadn’t done it yet.

Day three was the turning point. An hour or so into Drew’s afternoon nap, Nick tip-toed into his room to check on him. He had worked his way down to one end of his crib and was sleeping on his stomach with his knees pulled up to his chest and his diapered behind sticking up in the air. His breath came in and out in even waves, yet his eyelids fluttered open when Nick’s soft footsteps stopped just below the crib railing, and he looked up at him with a sleepy smile. “Shh, buddy.” Nick dropped his hand down on the toddler’s back and rubbed it in small circles . “You can go back to sleep.” Drew rolled onto his side, reached for a nearby teddy bear, and clutched it to his chest. As his eyes closed again, he uttered a single word.

“Daddy.”