“I got the remote right here, Brian, I can change it myself if I want to,” Nick said without tearing his eyes from the TV screen, waving the remote around listlessly.
“Okay, okay, sorry I asked. ‘Fresh Prince’ is fine.”
“There’s nothin’ else on... God, TV sucks on Saturdays.” Nick sighed. His whole life sucked. What was the point of living if living meant lying in a bed watching reruns of early 90’s sitcoms all day?
“You got that right. Maybe I could go find one the nurses and see about getting a VCR or DVD player or something in here. Or what about Nintendo, don’t they have video game consoles here for the kids and stuff?”
“Yeah, probably... for the kids,” Nick repeated. “I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t feel like playing Nintendo anyway.” Although now that he thought about it, he really would enjoy a nice game of 007 or something... stalking through halls and blowing people’s brains out was always a fun way of releasing his aggression. But no... leave the video games to the kids. He was an adult; he could deal with the boredom.
“You, not wanting to play Nintendo? That’s a new one,” Brian commented, his eyes wide and incredulous.
“Yeah, well, I’ve changed, Brian,” said Nick, none too kindly.
Brian blinked. “Your body’s changed, Nick, but you haven’t. You’re still the same person.”
Nick shook his head, but did not reply, and Brian let the issue drop. They sat in silence for awhile until Brian asked, “You getting hungry yet?”
“Nope.”
“Well, you better work up an appetite, cause Kevin and the guys should be back soon with some decent food, and you need to eat.”
Nick had been moved back into bed half an hour ago, just in time for his lunch, which had been totally disgusting looking. Not that it mattered – he hadn’t had an appetite in days, even though the last time he’d actually eaten something substantial was the day before his surgery, at Kevin’s insistence. And now Daddy Kevin was back to trying to get Nick to eat, and Cousin Brian had joined in on the fun. When it became clear that Nick wasn’t about to touch any of the hospital food on his tray, however, Kevin had volunteered to go back to the hotel to round up AJ and Howie and promised to bring McDonald’s on his way back. Even the thought of Mickey D’s did nothing for Nick, but not wanting to make Kevin feel bad, he had accepted the offer, and Kevin had left.
So then it had just been Brian and Nick, and how here they sat, watching reruns of “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” on WGN and making strained small talk.
A soft rap on the door brought Nick out of a dazed stupor, and he glanced over in time to see the door swing open and his favorite nurse Samantha poke her head in.
“Hi, Nick,” she smiled. “I just wanted to let you know you have a visitor if you feel up to it.”
He frowned. Visitor? She couldn’t mean Kevin, Howie, or AJ, for it was just understood that they could come and go as they pleased; no one ever had to ask his permission to let them in.
“Who is-“ he started, and her smile grew.
“It’s Claire.”
Nick’s breath caught in his throat. “Claire?” he squeaked.
“Yeah, here she comes.” Apparently his permission wasn’t really necessary because before he could manage a reply, Samantha vanished, the door opened wider, and all of a sudden, there she was. Claire Ryan, looking awkward and hesitant in the doorway.
“Can I come in, Nick?” she asked softly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“I dunno, can you?” he retorted flatly, using the standard middle school teacher reply that had annoyed him so much in his youth.
Offering him a sheepish smile, she took that as a yes and stepped slowly into the room. Stopping a few feet from the foot of his bed, she simply gazed at him, doe-eyed, her teeth gently biting her bottom lip. And he stared right back, humiliated and uncomfortable, his hands nervously twisting the bedcovers in his lap.
Part of him wanted to snap at her and throw her right back out of the room.
Part of him wanted to throw his arms around her and feel the comfort of her embrace.
And part of him just wanted to cry, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Tears of self-pity, for what had happened to him? Tears of happiness, for finally seeing her again? Hell, maybe it was just the pain medication screwing with him.
He struggled, not knowing what to do or say, and she seemed to be facing the same internal battle.
“Claire... wow, I can’t believe it’s you. How are you doing?” It was Brian who broke the unbearable silence with these words, and Nick tore his gaze from Claire long enough to glance over in surprise at his friend, having almost forgotten he was still in the room.
Claire smiled in Brian’s direction. “I’m fine, thanks. It’s great to see you again; how are you?”
“Doin’ okay,” replied Brian with a quick nod. “Um, if you two will excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” He stood up quickly and practically bolting, stopping just beyond Claire to mouth, “I’ll be gone a looong time!” With a wink and a grin, he disappeared, leaving Nick blushing furiously.
Claire wrinkled her nose. “He sure left fast.”
“He’s got the shits,” Nick enlightened, deadpan.
“TMI,” replied Claire with a tight smile. Nick said nothing in return, and her face quickly sobered. “Nick,” she said softly, and he watched her eyes travel from his face down to the spot where his left leg should have been apparent beneath the covers. Shaking her head, she met his gaze once again and said, “I... I don’t know what to say.”
“As long as it’s not ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘How are you doing,’ you can say anything you damn well please,” muttered Nick in reply.
She nodded. “Well, I wasn’t going to say either of those things because I know that’s probably the last thing you want to hear, after already hearing it from everyone else.”
“Yeah,” he said dully. “You got that right.”
“’Course I do. Cause I know; I’ve been there.” Nick stared at his hands, which were still entwined in the blankets, and said nothing. “And you know, Nick,” Claire continued, slowly coming closer and perching herself in a corner of the foot of the bed, turning to face him, “I’m not going to give you a big pep talk either, unless you want me to. I’m not going to be like, ‘You’re going to sail through this, Nick, and everything’s going to be all right.’ Because I dunno about you, but for me, that got old real fast.”
Nick nodded. “So what did you come to say?”
“I told you,” she shrugged, “I don’t know. But I was here for a doctor’s appointment – my six month follow up – and I stopped by the nurses station on the way out to say hey, and I overheard Samantha and another nurse talking... and it was about you.” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head. “God, Nick, I had no idea! Wh-why didn’t you call me and tell me or something?”
Anger bubbled within him. “Why should I have? The way you ran out on me on Valentine’s Day, I thought you never wanted to see or hear from me again,” he retorted, glaring at her.
A guilty expression crossed her face. “That’s not true,” she murmured. “You’re my friend, Nick. And yeah, I was pretty mad at you that night, but you’re still my friend. And when I heard what had happened to you, I freaked. I just had to come see you, even if I didn’t know what to say, and even if we didn’t part on such good terms last time. I just wish I would have known sooner so I could have been there for you the way you were there for me during my transplant.”
He smiled slowly. “You can still be here for me,” he said hoarsely.
“Only if you want me to be,” she replied, her eyes searching his.
“I want you here with me,” he answered without skipping a beat. “I need you here with me. We’ve been through so much shit together, Claire... I dunno if I can make it through this without you.”
He watched her face pleadingly, his heart fluttering as she cracked a smile. “Then I’m here,” she replied simply, and in one fluid motion, moved from the foot of the bed to the head, perching herself beside him. Casually, she reached out and touched his hair, gently running her fingers through it and smoothing it away from his forehead.
“You know,” she commented offhandedly, “I like you with hair.”
“Ditto,” replied Nick, admiring her strawberry locks, which had grown even longer.
Smiling, she bent and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. When she pulled back, her eyes were glistening with tears.
“Hey now,” he murmured, his forehead still tingling where her lips had been, “I thought you weren’t going to feel sorry for me.”
“It’s not that,” she sniffled, smiling sheepishly. “It’s just... I missed you, Nick.”
He reached for her hand, running his fingers over her smooth skin. As their fingers entwined, he smiled contentedly. “I missed you too, Claire.”
Suddenly, his life didn’t seem to suck quite as much as it had before.
***
