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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.