Rochelle and Nick rode in silence most of the way back to the house from LAX. When they got there, Lauren's car was still absent from the driveway. Nick parked and jumped out, but Rochelle took pause in the passanger seat, staring up at the house, remembering the way it had looke comforting after having that final argument with AJ that night. She drew a deep breath and got out to find Nick coming back up the drive from the mailbox, shuffling through envelopes. "So where's Lauren at, anyways?" Rochelle asked.
"Meeting with... with..." Nick looked up from the mail and squinted, trying to remember. "I dunno, some party planner wedding maker thingy." He pulled out a magazine from the stack and studied the cover a moment before shoving it back in the pile of mail. "Helen or something."
Rochelle looked up. "Helen Von Troump?"
Nick stared at her, blinking. "What about trout?"
"She got Helen Von Troump as a wedding planner? That bitch! Me and AJ tried like crazy to get her! You should ask AJ sometime because he was seriously lusting after that lady's work, he really wanted ---" Rochelle paused, realizing what she'd just said. "I mean... yeah. Anyways. That's cool she got Helen." She took her duffle bag out of the back, trying to pretend her throat hadn't swollen three times its usual size. She refused to look at him. She could feel in the air that hung between them that he was looking at her like a shot puppy dog and she didn't want to see it.
Nick led the way into the house and dropped his keys on the table by the door and Rochelle followed him. Every step she took had flashes of deja'vu. She'd stood there that night. She'd followed Lauren through there. This is where Lauren bumped into her in the rush to get out the door...
Nick led her up the stairs and showed her the guest bedroom that Lauren had gone out of her way to redecorate with "Rochelle Appropriate" decor. She'd bought a new zebra print bed spread and hung bright red curtains up and installed a phone line and extra shelves for shoes in the closet. "Wow," Rochelle said, her fingers running across the animal print sheets on the bed. "You guys did all this work for me?" she asked.
Nick laughed, "You're worth it."
Rochelle felt her cheeks flush red. "Thanks, Nick."
He grinned. Then, like he realized he was hovering, he announced, "I'm gonna go downstairs and eat vicariously through the fat guy on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. I'll be down there if you want me." He ducked out of the room and closed the door.
Rochelle let out a streaming sigh and sat down on the bed, dropping the duffle to the floor and kicking off her shoes before laying back. She close her eyes. "Oh my God," she muttered as emotions flooded her.
Nick was sitting on the couch drooling over a corned beef hash that Guy Fieri was eating on Triple D when Lauren came home. She dropped the bag of stuff that Helen had given her on the dining room table, "Hey Nick, honey, I'm home."
"Why can't we eat corned beef hash?" he yelled back.
"Because it's bad for you," she replied, heading into the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of cranberry vitamin water out of the fridge and started shifting through the pile of mail Nick had chucked onto the table when he and Rochelle got home from LAX. "Where's Rochelle? You did remember to pick her up, didn't you?" It sounded stupid, but Nick had done stupider in his lifetime, so she felt the need to ask.
Suddenly Nick was in the kitchen, "Upstairs," he said. "I wouldn't forget Rochelle."
"Just checking." Lauren kissed his cheek. "You shouldn't watch the Food channel, all it does is make you whine for the next week about how you can't eat the shit they eat."
Nick sat at the table and sighed. He watched as Lauren sorted the mail into piles, threw away the junk pile and started opening the more important envelopes. She had this thing she did where she bit the very tip of her tongue while she read and it looked like she had three lips. He looked away and picked up the bottle cap she'd left on the table from her water and started rolling it under his hand.
"She looks different."
"What?" Lauren looked up.
"Rochelle," Nick replied, "She looks different."
"Different?"
"Yeah," he said, "Like her eyes. I dunno."
Lauren stared at him a long moment. "Well," she said finally, "She's been through a lot."
Nick shrugged, "I guess. Her eyes used to be like sparkley or something and they're different now is all." He remained focused on the water bottle cap.
Lauren looked out toward the stairs and thought a moment, wondering if Rochelle was okay because for Nick to notice something like Rochelle's eyes being different, well that was probably serious. Nick barely noticed her eyes, not to mention other peoples. In fact, sometimes she wondered if she covered Nick's eyes so he couldn't peek if he'd know what color her eyes even were.
"Did you offer her lunch?" Lauren asked.
"I didn't wanna offer her gross food," Nick replied.
Lauren rolled her eyes. "Nick, I can't believe you." She got up and walked quickly to the stairs, heading up to Rochelle's room.
"What?" Nick wailed after her, "What'd I do now?"
Lauren knocked on Rochelle's door, "Ro-Ro?" she called in.
The door opened a moment later and a mascara-streaked face peeked out. "Hey," she gasped.
"Oh honey," Lauren pushed open the door and wrapped her arms around her friend and hugged her tight. "Are you okay sweetie?"
Rochelle gasped into Lauren's shoulder, "He-he-he's g-gone!"
Lauren rubbed her friend's back, "I'm so sorry."
They moved into the room and sat awkwardly on the edge of Rochelle's bed. "It hurts so bad, I feel like he's here, like he's gonna come around the corner any second." She pressed her cheek against Lauren's shoulder, "It's so hard, looking at Nick, and not hating him for having AJ's heart in his chest."
In the hallway, Nick leaned against the wall, out of sight, and listened, staring at his hands, a feeling of guilt washing over him from head to toe.
