Lauren was sitting in the kitchen when Nick and Rochelle returned from the arcade. She had a glass of lemonade in front of her on the table and was flipping through a magazine. She looked up as Nick stepped into the room clutching the huge stuffed dog. He dropped it in front of her, right on top of her magazine. "Lauren... I rufff you," he sing-songed.
Lauren looked up at him, a grin on her face, "You are such an ass," she laughed.
Nick grinned. "I know." It was obvious he was quite proud of this declaration.
"We had a lot of fun," Rochelle said, "I won bling. Look." She held up her arm with the slap bracelets on it and wiggled her duckie bubble necklace. "Makes me all sexy-sexy."
"Oh my God," Lauren laughed and reached over to pull a slap bracelet from Rochelle's wrist. "I had these in Junior High School."
"Me too!" Rochelle cried.
Nick grinned, "I stole one of my sister's bracelets and gave it to this chick I was crushin' on in school." He nodded, "She was a high schooler," he added, with nostalgic reverence. "I knew, even then, that the ladies like jewelry."
"Did you get laid for it then, too?" Rochelle asked, "Or did that just come with diamonds?" she thumbed in Lauren's direction. Lauren kicked her under the table with a laugh.
Nick grinned. "She kissed me on the playground after school." He ran a hand through hair arrogantly.
"Oh so you were a player, even then?" Rochelle asked.
Nick nodded, "Played the bitches hot and cold."
Lauren smiled up at him awkwardly, then stood up. "Can I talk to you a sec?" she asked.
"Yeah of course, babe," Nick replied, then bounded out to the living room, leading the way.
"We'll be right back," Lauren promised, and she disappeared after him.
Rochelle sat awkwardly in the kitchen, looking around at everything. It was obvious that Lauren had decorated the house because there it was glaringly obvious when something was Nick's in a room. Like the set of Ninja Turtle glasses that donned a top shelf like they were expensive wine goblets that needed displaying or the rooster-shaped teapot that sat on the back burner of the stove. Rochelle wondered what the place had looked like in the time of "pre-Lauren", before she'd moved her toothbrush in and put up the yellow flowered curtains. AJ's house had been rather eclectically decorated, too, before she'd moved in. He'd had diamond encrusted skulls everywhere. His house had reminded her of that episode of Friends when Joey moves out and has the big ceramic dogs and muppet fur pillow.
"So anyway, was he terribly annoying?" Lauren asked as she re-entered the kitchen. She sat down with a heavy sigh and took a sip of her lemonade. "I never take him to the arcade because he's usually a pain in the ass there. It sets off his ADD."
Rochelle laughed, "Actually, he was fine. We had a lot of fun."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
Lauren made a surprised-but-impressed face, "Either you have more patience with me or he managed to reign it in there," she laughed.
Rochelle shrugged, "AJ used to get pretty spastic at arcades, too, but it was one of his favorite date night destinations," she said, rolling her eyes. She smiled. Then it hit her that she'd spent an entire day at the arcade with Nick without hardly thinking of AJ a single time.
Lauren must've seen something flicker across Rochelle's face as she made the realization, because she said, "I'm sorry. That must've been hard for you... I'll ask Nick not to bring you to AJ places again. I swear sometimes that boy doesn't use his head. Like, ever."
Rochelle shook her head, "No, no. It's fine. I had fun. Nick was fine." She paused, "Speaking of him, where'd he disappear to?"
"Upstairs."
"Is he okay?" Rochelle asked.
Lauren nodded, "I'm sure he is." She looked at the big stuffed dog. "He's a good guy."
Rochelle nodded.
Nick remained mysteriously absent for the rest of the evening, and when Rochelle asked if there was anything wrong, Lauren said he had a headache and had gone to bed. Meanwhile, the two of them had a girls night on the couch in the living room, watching Sex in the City on DVD and eating a spinach and feta pizza that Lauren ordered in while giving eachother pedicures. Lauren had even ordered a small cheese pizza for Nick, but he hadn't answered when she knocked on the door upstairs, so she'd left it in the fridge for him as a surprise.
Rochelle laughed, "He really is slipping if he didn't smell pizza."
"Poor Nick, I've ruined his super power with crappy food," Lauren giggled.
"You should've seen him this moring," Rochelle said, "I made him french toast and suggested we make some turkey bacon, and he almost wet himself."
"You gave him french toast and bacon?" Lauren asked, "No wonder, he probably thought he just scored the jackpot. You might as well have given him sex." She laughed.
Rochelle laughed, too, "Well actually, he panicked and said he's only allowed turkey bacon once a week. He looked like a kid caught in the cookie jar by the cool aunt or something."
Lauren grinned, "Aw I've trained him well."
"You really have."
"Poor Nick," Lauren's eyes sparkled with amusement even as she said the words, though.
Rochelle woke up at 2:30 and found the TV off and the room dark. She'd fallen asleep at some point and Lauren had put a blanket over her and snuck off to bed. She stretched her arms and got up, tossed the blanket over the back of the couch, and tip-toed up the stairs to the bedrooms. She was on her way down the hall to the guest room when she noticed a slim line of light under Nick's office door. She paused outside it, wondering what he was doing still up. She looked up and down the hallway, then leaned against the door and listened for any movement inside. She heard something, so she knocked gently on the wood.
It took a moment, but the door opened and there stoo Nick. He stared at her a moment, then beckoned her inside silently. Rochelle stepped into Nick's office and he closed the door behind her. "What're you still doing up?" he asked in a loud whisper.
"I might ask the same of you," replied Rochelle in the same hushed tone.
Nick shrugged. He sat in a desk chair. The desktop was covered with scraps of paper with writing and drawings all over them.
Rochelle lowered herself onto the couch and looked around. The walls were covered with Backstreet Boys gold records and photos taken all over the world during various stages of their careers. "This is quite a shrine," she commented.
"Yeah," Nick said.
Rochelle spotted a photo that AJ had a copy of on their mantle back home and she stood up and walked over to it, staring at it. It was from some awards show, God only knows how long ago. She studied AJ in it for a long moment, then turned to face Nick. "I had fun today," she commented.
"What?"
"At the arcade," she clarified, "With you. I had fun. Thanks for bringing me."
"Oh. Yeah. You're welcome."
Suddenly Panda emerged from under Nick's desk, right by his feet. Rochelle's face broke into a smile. It was the first she'd really seen of the little dog, other than a brief appearance he'd made mooching the night before. She picked him up and hugged him, pulling the fur away from his eyes. "Hey Panda," she said, "Who's a good booooyyy?"
Nick watched in silence.
When she'd finished coddling the dog, Rochelle put him on the floor. "So you and Panda, huh?"
"What about us?"
"Y'all are buds now?"
"When weren't we?"
Rochelle shrugged, "You know. Before."
Panda wandered over and scratched at Nick's leg, so he picked the dog up and it curled up in his lap and closed his eyes. Nick stroked the dog's ears. "I never didn't like Panda," he said.
Rochelle snorted. "Yeah right."
Nick licked his lips. "Hey Ro?" he asked.
"Hmm?" she'd turned back to the photos on the wall.
"How long was he drinking?"
Rochelle turned back to Nick. She stared at him for a long moment. "Not too long."
"Since I was in the hospital." It wasn't a question.
Rochelle turned back to the photos, not wanting to confirm, but unable to deny, what Nick was saying.
"I wish it'd been me," he said.
Rochelle turned around again. "No," she said sternly, "Don't do that. Don't wish that."
Nick's face was solemn. "I feel guilty," he confessed.
She shook her head, "You shouldn't."
Nick drew a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh, "Everyone wishes it was me instead of him, I know."
"No," she replied. "That's not true."
Nick looked down at Panda. "You do."
"Nick," she whispered, "That's unfair. He was my husband."
"And he's dead 'cos of me."
"No," she answered. "He's just dead."
Nick's face moved into a sad smile. "It's okay to say it," he said, "I understand. I blame myself, you might as well blame me, too." Rochelle started to say something, but he continued on, "I miss him, though. God I miss him so much." Nick rubbed his hands against his jeans. "It's never until I have something to talk to him about that I notice he's gone. I know that sounds terrible, but its true. It's selfish. But then I have something I wanna tell him or talk with him about and it's like this tsunami just floods me and I start drowning in it..."
Rochelle knew exactly the feeling Nick meant. It surprised her how eloquently he was describing the feeling of utter loss she felt in just a few simple words. She often felt consumed, just like he was saying, when she thought too much about AJ missing.
"I don't blame you Nick," Rochelle said.
"Okay," he said. But his eyes were still unfocused and far off, deep in thought.
"You should get some sleep," Rochelle said, and she slipped out the door, back to the hall, and down to the guest bedroom, where she cried herself to sleep.
