Nick
Leighanne does this thing with her tongue when she's criticizing Brian for something that annoys the crap out of me. It's this sound like a trainer trying to tame a horse or something, like this clucking-clicking sound. And she's always criticizing Brian - it's like her number one hobby - so she's always making this fucking sound.
We were standing backstage at one of the many appearances we had to do during our flash trip to Europe and she was fixing Brian's tie for the nine-hundredth time. Every time she fixed it, he tugged it out of alignment because she was tightening it right against his throat and making it impossible for him to breath. Seriously, he had been almost the same color as a smurf before he adjusted it. I had a feeling his balls were getting severed the same way. He looked longingly at me as I loosened my tie and untucked my shirt behind her back -- just because I could.
AJ tossed a handful of chocolate covered cranberries into his mouth, "You look like crap," he said.
Howie nodded, "Has that shirt ever met an iron?"
"It never will," I answered.
AJ was staring down at his phone. "Rochelle just texted me the cutest picture of Ava," he announced, waving his phone around for everyone to see. Ava was, as always, staring at the camera with big round eyes. I mean, what the hell else do babies ever do in pictures? And yet people are supposed to react all surprised with oohs and aahs over every damn picture of a baby or else they're coldhearted or something.
"Adorable," I replied, barely looking. AJ was too caught up in the picture to notice I'd hardly looked.
"Have you guys really thought about how incredible technology is now-a-days?" Kevin toned from behind his Nook tablet. I assume he was reading the news paper on it because he was staring down his reading glasses like he was Mr. Rodgers reading the daily or something. "You just got a picture of your kid that's half a planet away, mere seconds after it was taken." He shook his head, "If we'd had this type stuff when I was a kid..." he turned back to his Nook.
I took a deep breath.
Brian made a choking sound as Leighanne clucked.
"I'm gonna go for a walk," I announced. "Just down the hall. I need a drink." I grabbed my wallet and headed out the door of the green room before the guys could stop me.
I didn't go just down the hall though, I ended up outside by the vans. Mike, my bodyguard, hovered at the door, and our breath hung in the air in little clouds. "Can I bum a smoke?" I asked him, and he pulled a pack out of his jacket pocket and handed one to me. After I lit up, I paced around in the lot around the vans, frustrated. I couldn't put my finger on what exactly, but something was really upsetting me. Like really, truly. I just felt stressed and sad all the time, and everything was bothering me. I was like... like... like a woman. It was ridiculous. I ran a hand through my hair and let out a great big sigh that looked like a storm cloud formation.
It bothered me a lot that the fellas were driving me so crazy. The dynamic in our group used to be so different - the guys drove me crazy before, but more the way brothers should drive a person crazy. This was more like an ex-wife kind of crazy now. It was like in the process of maturin and becoming grown-ups we'd somehow lost our connection and that scared the shit out of me because the fellas were my family. The other four of them had great parents and siblings and homes to go home to and me -- well, I didn't. They were it for me.
The thought no sooner had crossed my mind than I felt a rush of guilt because I had Lauren, and I never seemed to remember that when I analyzed stuff in my life.
Lauren was back home working on putting together this brand new house we just bought and she was sending me all these pictures of the decorating she was working so hard on. She was nesting, making it a collaboration of our two styles, the mixture of clean, precise industrial design and the cozy hippie-chic style that she enjoyed as she worded it. It was a mish-mosh but it would become home. Lauren was gonna be my family. She was gonna be everything that I was always jealous of the guys for having.
Why couldn't I ever remember that instinctively?
I took a deep breath, the last of the cigarette in my fingertips and I sat down in this stupid folding chair of AJ's and threw the cigarette on the ground and mooshed it with my foot. I threw my head back, staring up at the cloudy, starry night and breathed in cold night air, trying to clear my head.
The fellas couldn't seriously be being this annoying, obviously something else was bugging me, but I didn't know what. Maybe it was just nerves from the wedding, from the commitment that I was making soon that I couldn't even seem to remember.
My phone vibed in my pocket and I pulled it out as Mike came around the end of the vans to make sure I was still alive and hadn't been hijacked by some crazy ass fan. He hovered at the end of the van. It was Eddie on the phone, so I answered it. "Hey?"
"Hey Nick, I just wanted to let you know - I emailed you a copy of the Christmas Miracle kid's wish essay and some more information about your visit. I'm really glad you agreed to do this - it's great publicity, man."
"Thanks, yeah it is," I answered.
"You okay?" Eddie asked, "You sound stressed."
"Just... you know... yeah, I am a little." I shrugged.
Eddie had a smile in his voice, "You'll be okay, man."
"Yeah, I'll be okay," I agreed.
"Have a good promo run, hey?"
"We always do."
Eddie hung up and I slid my phone back in my pocket. I stood up and walked over to Mike. "A'ight, let's just go back in, it's fuckin' cold out here, my balls are gonna freeze off."
Mike laughed and followed me back into the TV studio's green room, where Leighanne was still clucking and AJ was on a call with Rochelle ("no you hang up, no you..."), and Howie and Kevin were discussing the symptoms of being vitamin deficient. I sat down and stared around at them, and took a deep breath. I flipped up the screen of my laptop and opened my email account to check out the stuff Eddie had sent me about the Christmas Miracle kid.
years old. I am a patient at Vanderbilt hospital with
Dr. Monica Potter because my heart is broke and it
does not work right all the time. My Christmas Miracle
Wish would be to meet Mr. Nick Carter from the
Backstreet Boys because he is a really good singer and
it would make me and my Mom smile if we could
meet him. I know all of the BSB songs by heart, and
also Nick's solo songs too. My mom always tells me
that Mr. Nick is a good role model because even though
he has made some mistakes he still believes in pursuing
dreams that he has and in making yourself a better
person. She says that Nick is a normal guy. I think that is
cool. I really hope I get to meet Mr. Nick, even if it is only
for a few minutes because it would be good to get to be
happy with my Mom. She deserves a wish, too.
Sincerely, Matty.
Abbey
"So what'd she say?" Matty perked up the moment that I walked through the door.
I'd spent several long moments composing myself and then trying to get my face washed so it wouldn't be obvious I'd been crying when I returned to the hospital room. Matty stared at me with his big blue eyes that were so much like his father's... Tears burned in my throat and the tears threatened to come again. "She just was telling me more about the Christmas Miracle program," I said, "And how hard you worked on writing out your wish."
Matty looked suspicious. "She didn't tell you what it was, though. Right?"
"She said it was Top Secret," I replied.
"Oh good," he said, nodding, "Good."
I sat down next to his bed and held out my hand, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it gently. It was so small between my palms, and so soft. My throat burned. How many scary situations had I held this little hand through? So many. Thunderstorms, needles, even minor operations. I'd taught those little fingers about writing and rolling Play-Doh snakes. I'd held them crossing streets and watched them hold onto the chains of swings while I pushed him high into the air. I rubbed the skin softly with my thumb.
He stared at our hands, then looked up at me. "I love you, Mommy," he said suddenly.
Sometimes, I realized, those little hands were really holding mine in the scary situations.
"I love you, too," I replied, and I kissed his little pudgey fingers.
"Let's look at the toy catalog," he suggested. And he pulled his hands away from mine and opened the drawer he'd put the catalog in, and grabbed a magic marker while he was in there. It was strange how empty my hands felt without his in it, and I thought about how strange it would be to one day not have that little hand to hold.
I shoved the thought out of my mind.
He flipped open the Toys R Us catalog and eagerly started pointing out toys on the pages, circling them and putting stars on them. Never more than 4-out-of-5, though, I noticed. "There must be something you want 5-stars," I said when we were about halfway through the catalog. I looked up at him and pushed some of his bushy blonde hair off his forehead so his brilliantly blue eyes could sparkle in the light.
Matty shrugged, "I'm saving my 5-star rating for something I really want, so you know that's what I want the very most," he answered.
"Got'cha," I said.
He pointed at a Pikachu 3DS. "This is probably, like, 4-and-a-half stars," he said, grinning.
I smiled and added "1/2" next to the four stars we'd drawn.
"What do you want for Christmas?" he asked suddenly.
"I already have you," I replied.
He laughed as I kissed his cheek. "Oh gross, Mom." He swiped away my kiss with the back of his hand, like any regular little boy. I laughed, my eyes lingering on his chest, where the top of a scar just barely peeked out from beneath his Iron Man pajamas. If only he really was like every little boy, I thought, then me having what I wanted for Christmas would be so much more certain.
