- Text Size +
Chapter Seven / 2013


Abbey

Nick and I rode the elevator to the fourth floor and walked along the corridor toward the cafe. He was quiet as we walked, our footsteps kind of echoing off the tile and the walls. We pushed open the double doors and entered the cafeteria. It was full of med students and doctors and families. We walked over to the coffee dispenser - this big ugly machine like a soda dispenser, offering regular, decaf, chai, or hot chocolate. "I'm sorry," I said, the first words either of us had spoken since the elevator when he agreed to go with me for coffee, "I know it's not like Starbucks or anything, but..."

"I just flew back from Europe," Nick said, "I was drinking airplane coffee. If it has caffeine, then I'm good." He hit the button and coffee streamed out of the machine into his cup. He studied me as it splooshed into the bottom of the styrofoam.

"How was Europe?" I asked. He pulled his cup away and I put mine under the stream of coffee next.

He shrugged, "It was European."

I laughed. "I've never been over there," I said.

"You oughtta go sometime," he replied. "It's nice."

"I'm lucky I can get to my apartment right now," I said. I slid the cap on my coffee as he added cream and sugar. I liked mine black. He took a sip and we headed to the cashier. He stepped ahead of me, holding out the money before I could get my card out. "You don't have to do that. I was supposed to buy it."

"It's all good," he said, taking his change and shoving it back into his wallet. We walked across the cafeteria, past laughing groups of med students. "Want to go outside?" Nick asked. The tables all looked full and we had to shout to hear over the noise.

"Yeah, that's good," I replied.

We pushed open the doors that led to a big courtyard out back. Nick followed me over to a little bench under a tree, surrounded by old orange leaves that had fallen from the tree above. He sat down, swiping away the leaves with his hand so I could sit beside him. "I gotta tell ya," he said as I sat, "You got balls, being here, staying sane." He stared up at the walls of the hospital. Windows were covered with paintings of animals and leaves and some of the windows had clings hanging in them, standing out in bright colors contrasting the bricks of the building, reaching up into the sky. "I wouldn't be able to do it." He sipped his coffee.

I wrapped my hands around the cup, feeling the heat radiating off it, gathering strength from it. "Nick," I said after a long pause, "Do you remember me?"

He looked at me and his eyes had a serious expression in them. He took a deep breath. "I feel like... like I should," he replied. "But... honestly, I see a lot of people and..." he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I didn't really think you would," I answered. I stared down at the cup.

"When did we meet before?" he asked.

"Halloween," I replied, "2006." Nick chewed his lower lip, thinking. "You dropped a glass of God-knows-what down my back. I was a zombie bride. You were... a Backstreet Boy." He stared at me for several long moments, his eyes searching mine. "It's okay," I said. "Like I said, I didn't expect you to remember me. I just wanted to tell you --" I paused. "Just thank you, that's all."

Nick licked his lips.

"I won't keep you," I said. "You just got back from Europe. I'm sure you're exhausted and that your girlfriend's waiting for you somewhere." Nick stared at me as I stood up from the bench. "I've already taken up enough of your time."

He stood up, too.

"I hope you have a wonderful Christmas," I said, and I started toward the door.

"Abbey," he said, "Wait a second."

I stopped just a couple steps from the door, my hand already half reaching for the handle. He put his cup of coffee down on the bench and came over. He started to say something, holding his breath as he tried to form the words, then let it out in a short gasp. He laughed and turned away, running a hand through his hair, his tongue resting against his lower lip as he pieced together what he wanted to say. I stared up at him, waiting.

"You and I..." he said quietly, "We... You know. Right?"

I chewed my lip. I nodded.

He looked up at the building again, at the blue sky beyond it. "Abbey," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't call. Part of me kinda thought maybe you were, like, a dream or something. I mean I have your number written in this old book, and I remember putting it there and thinking I'd call ya when I was better - like more like a girl like you deserved." He smiled sadly, "Just one of many mistakes I made back then."

My insides were crawling around.

"It's so wild that of all the people in all the world the Christmas Miracle reps happen to chose your son to ---" he stopped mid-sentence. He stared at me for a moment. "Your - um... your six year old son." Nick's eyebrows cinched together. He rubbed the back of his head. "July. July 28th they said, right? That's his birthday?" He stared at me. "That's - that's what, like... like -- Halloween, so November first... December, January, March... April... May... June..." he ticked the months off on his fingers.

His voice faded out before he reached July.

He stared at me. Right into my eyes.

I knew the moment his mind made the connection because his eyes widened just a little like he was about to fly into a panic. I didn't dare to move.

He kind of looked like he'd been turned to stone or something. He just stood there, eyes a little unfocused, his mouth open forming the silent word July, nine fingers held up between us. Then he shook himself out of it, and he grabbed the handle of the door, yanked it open, and went inside.

I stood there in the courtyard after the door had closed, the smell of him fading away in the crisp air. Somewhere, a dog was barking and the leaves blew across the stone pathway, re-covering the bench seat we'd occupied, knocking over his coffee cup. The lid fell off and the brown liquid steamed and pooled on the cement. I walked over on shaking knees and lifted the styrofoam cup and plastic lid from the ground and shook the coffee remnants off, tossing it into the little blue trash bin next to the door before going inside.

The cafeteria was still loud and bustling with activity. I walked through it, wondering what any of these people would say if they knew what they'd been just on the other side of a window from witnessing.

I rode the elevator back upstairs. I didn't know what I expected - if I expected Nick to be waiting for me somewhere or to have gone back to see Matty or what - but he wasn't anywhere to be seen, and as I walked back to Matty's room, all I could think was that he wouldn't be back. He was probably running away, faster than hell.

Sometimes, I thought, standing outside Matty's room and taking a deep breath, preparing myself to be the happy mom he needed, I wished that I could run away, too.




Nick

I got a cab home.

My mind raced, trying to piece together the story, trying to make it make sense. Or not make sense. I wanted to disprove it somehow. I didn't know how because it was all too perfect. My hands shook as I paid the cabbie and climbed out of the car, slamming the door.

The house Lauren and I bought was a grand old thing on a side street in southern Nashville. It had a big lawn and trees and stuff and she'd put up those fake candle stick lights in the windows and a big wreath on the door. It glowed invitingly as I walked up the walkway to the door. I'd only spent like a week in the house before going to Europe, so it was still new and unfamiliar. It attributed perfectly to the racing of my mind, where everything was new and unfamiliar all of a sudden. I turned the handle on the door and stepped inside. It smelled like food and warmth in there.

"Nick? Is that you?" Lauren called.

It wasn't until I heard her voice echoing from upstairs that I remembered her promise to have dinner ready.

"Yeah, it's me," I called back.

"Come upstairs!"

I stood at the bottom of the stairwell, and my heart raced against the inside of my rib cage. I was feeling a little dizzy. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. How was I going to tell Lauren about all this? Was I going to tell Lauren about all this? I mean, it was kind of going to eventually work itself out, wasn't it? It was only a matter of a couple weeks, maybe a month, and it would all be over anyways.

I felt guilty for even thinking like that.

"Nick?"

"I'm coming," I said thickly. I started up the stairs.

I could see him in my head, see him when I closed my eyes. Those blue eyes, that blonde hair. There wasn't any mistaking it. I could see it in my memory, though I hadn't really seen it then.

I rounded the corner of the door to the bedroom and Lauren was laying there on the bed, her body clad in this silky black thing that only just covered her. Her hair was pinned up like she was one of Charlie's Angels and her eyes were done smokey and sexy. She grinned from behind dark lips and she waggled a perfectly manicured finger at me to come hither. I walked slowly toward her.

"You... are a hero... to some little boy," she cooed as she got up to her knees and crawled toward the edge of the bed, holding out her hands for mine. I slid them into hers. She smiled into my eyes. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered, and she kissed my cheek.

I closed my eyes. I wanted to let go, to just accept her loving and forget everything else, to just drop back into my life before I knew. It's not like I could do anything to help Abbey and Matthew anyway, it's not like me being a part of their lives could change anything, could make anything better. It's not like I wanted a kid, it's not like I meant to get myself in this position, or even that I'd ever really remembered how I got there. Fuck drugs, fuck drinking, fuck the past, I thought cruelly to myself. What good would it do to rupture what little stability still existed in my life? It'd do no good at all. Nobody but me and Abbey knew, I thought, and if she'd intended to tell the world she would've done it six years ago. I could easily run away from this and never look back. After all, only bad could come from admitting to what I'd found out.

Lauren's mouth was on my shoulder, in the crook where my neck met the collar bone.

"Lauren," I whispered.

"Hmm?" she hummed against my skin.

"Lauren," I said again, and it took all my strength to take a step back from the bed, to hold her at arms length, to look into her deep, chocolate brown eyes.

She tilted her head slightly, staring into my face, her lips uncurling from the smile to an expression of concern as she stared into my eyes. "What's the matter?" she asked thickly.

"He's mine," I said.

"What?"

"The Christmas Miracle kid. He's my kid. He's my son."

Lauren stared at me, her mouth gaping. Her lip trembled, "I - wh - how?"

I shook my head, "I didn't know," I stammered. "Until I got there. And -- he looks -- the VSD, he has 'til Christmas -- and Abbey, his mom -- I -- It was Halloween..."

"Slow down," Lauren said, rubbing my arms, "Slow down. C'mon, here, sit down." She guided me onto the bed beside her. "Start from the beginning," she directed.

I practically melted onto the bed beside her. I felt completely dazed. I stared ahead and she clutched my hand, squeezing it gently, her eyes trained on my face, waiting patiently for me to come to words. I looked over at her. She looked as scared and wild as I felt. Panic was coursing through me.

And I realized I had an awful lot to lose.