He got the leg on a Wednesday, and that therapy session was spent just learning how to put the thing on and stand up. On Friday, he got back between the parallel bars and was taught to take steps, but the process was slow, tedious, and just plain hard. It was like trying to walk on stilts, and Nick found himself clinging to the bars for support, apprehensive about putting weight on the artificial leg, which fit differently than the molded cast in which he had been before.
The weekend found him discouraged yet again, his excitement about getting the leg gone. He had only been to two therapy sessions, but already, he felt it was taking too long. Susan had warned him that it would, especially in the beginning, explaining how he could only wear the prosthesis for a short time each day until he was accustomed to it; too much wear would bruise his still-tender stump. Nick hadn’t liked hearing this one bit - he wanted the ability to walk again, and he wanted it now.
Unfortunately, this attitude wasn’t doing much to help anything. AJ and Howie were already getting sick of him, and it hadn’t even been two weeks since Brian and Kevin had flown home, leaving the two bachelors to Nick-sit. Nick had to smile when AJ casually suggested he call Claire and see if she wanted to come over and hang out.
“You mean I can have a friend over to play?” he asked in a snotty tone, rolling his eyes at AJ. “Why is that - so you and Howie can run away from me and leave Claire to babysit instead?”
A smirk spread slowly over AJ’s face, and Nick knew he’d hit the nail on the head. AJ had cabin fever; AJ needed to get out. Probably Howie too. Nick didn’t blame them one bit; hell, he wished he could get out too. Go out with his buddies and get plastered, just like in the old days. Only there was no chance of that happening anytime soon.
Nick hardly talked to those guys anyway, his other friends. Brent had called once since he’d come home from the hospital, and that was it. The conversation had been awkward and short, and it was very clear that things were just different now. Brent was obviously weirded out and uncomfortable, and the others were probably even more so, for they hadn’t even called. Nick found that he didn’t really care though. To him, those guys represented the past, his life before cancer had ruined it. There were only a few people that really mattered now... the other Boys... and Claire.
“Well, I-I didn’t really mean it like that,” AJ was now stammering sheepishly.
“Naw, it’s okay, J, I get ya. I’d feel the same way, dude. It’s Saturday night - you and Howie should get out, go do something tonight. Hit the clubs for me, and get Howie wasted, that’s always fun. I’ll call Claire and see if she’ll come over.”
“Oh, I’m sure she will,” said AJ with a toothy grin. “And seriously, Nick... you’ll have the house and a chick all to yourself... what more could you want?”
Nick rolled his eyes and tried to keep from grinning like a moron. “Me and Claire aren’t like that,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“Oh, right, you’re ‘just friends.’ My bad,” smirked AJ with an exaggerated wink.
“Shut up.”
AJ just snickered and wandered away. Smiling to himself, Nick picked up the phone.
***
“Aww, I love this part,” sighed Claire. “I think that’s the sweetest thing ever, writing a song for the person you love... not to mention singing it over the intercom on an airplane.”
Nick laughed. “Yeah...” he said. Claire had come over a couple hours earlier, and for lack of anything better to do, they’d found “The Wedding Singer” playing on TBS and decided to watch it. It was one of the only romance movies Nick actually liked, for Adam Sandler and the 80’s soundtrack made it good.
As the credits rolled, Claire let out another happy sigh and then turned to face Nick. “So, what now? More TV?”
Nick shrugged. “What else is there to do?”
“I dunno, that’s why I’m asking you,” smiled Claire.
Nick scowled. “Well, I dunno either, Claire, there ain’t much I can do, ya know. You wanna play Gamecube? X-Box? Playstation? Well, I don’t, cause that’s all I fucking do. Or maybe we could just watch some more TV like you said. Not like I don’t get enough of that shit.”
“Hey, chill,” Claire said softly, lightly resting her hand on his arm. “Look, we don’t have to sit here in front of the TV anymore if you don’t want to. What do you want to do?”
Nick was silent a moment. “If I could do anything,” he said finally, “I’d take my boat out.”
“So do it. Let’s do it; I haven’t been out on your boat yet.”
Nick snorted, then glanced over to see that she was serious. “That’s stupid, Claire,” he muttered, shaking his head. “It’s night, it’s dark, and I can’t even fucking walk, let alone manage the boat.”
“Another day then,” she said simply, her unwavering optimism irking him.
“Sure, whatever.”
“Okay, so no boat. Do you want to go out by the beach? Can you get out there on your crutches?”
He shook his head. “Not a good idea. It’s dark, and there’s sand.”
“Ahh... gotcha. Okay, so I guess we’ll just sit here and watch TV then?”
Nick sighed and did not even bother replying.
“How about we just go sit outside? Out back, on your patio. Would that work?” Claire suggested.
“Okay.”
Claire slid off the couch and moved around to Nick’s left side, helping him stand up and gain his balance on one leg while she hurried to bring him his crutches. Slowly, they made their way outside, Claire leading, Nick hobbling along behind. They went out to the patio, where soft lights twinkled all around, golden hues illuminating the darkness. The pool sparkled in the moonlight, its water still and placid in the windless night.
“I miss the water,” Nick murmured, his eyes panning across it.
“What, you don’t bathe?”
“You know what I mean.” Nick rolled his eyes. Why was she giving him such a hard time?
“I know, I’m sorry.” Claire offered an apologetic smile and then continued, “But hey, the pool’s right there... go swimming, why don’t you?”
“Go swimming?” he repeated, eyeing her skeptically. “Right.”
“Why not? It’s been about a month since your surgery, hasn’t it?”
“Exactly a month,” mumbled Nick – it was May 1.
“Yeah, so your incision has to be about healed by now, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So... why can’t you swim?”
“Why can’t I... God, Claire, are you just trying to piss me off?”
“No! I’m just trying to get you to stop pouting about what you can and can’t do and do something! If you wanna get in the water, get in the water! You can swim with one leg.”
He cocked his head at her, considering this. Well... theoretically, he supposed she was right... and even if swimming proved to be difficult, he could still get into the water, even if it was just to stand along the side in the shallow part, waist deep.
“I’d have to go get my trunks on,” he said lamely.
She wrinkled her nose. “Psh, you’re already out here... just go in your boxers. You wear boxers, right?” He nodded, glad it was dark enough to hide the fact that he was blushing. “Well, so strip down and get in, boy.”
“Only if you come in too,” Nick said, flashing the infamous half-smile he knew most women could not resist.
“But I don’t... ohhh, wait a minute, I see where you’re coming from. Nice try, mister, you’re just trying to get me to skinny dip since I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“No!” Nick tried to look offended that she would even suggest such a thing... though really, it didn’t sound like such a bad idea. “You don’t have to skinny dip. Just go in your underwear... you are wearing underwear, right?” He grinned.
She hit him playfully in the shoulder. “Perv.”
“Seriously, you have to come in too, or I won’t do it.”
“Well, Nick, I don’t care if you do it or not. You’re the one whining about missing the water.” She flashed him a smile to let him know she was teasing.
“No, now I’m whining about wanting you to get in too,” Nick countered with a grin.
Claire rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Well fine, you can just whine then,” she said, standing up from the deck chair in which she’d been perched. She made as if to walk back into the house, but then she turned, and before Nick knew what she was doing, she had taken a running leap, hurtling herself into the far, deep end of the pool and creating a surprisingly colossal splash as she cannonballed into the water, fully-clothed.
Nick’s mouth hung open as she surfaced and swam to the shallow section, making it to the side. Folding her arms on the edge of the pool, she rested her chin atop them and grinned. “Now you have to come in.”
Stunned, Nick simply shook his head and glanced down at himself. Making a quick decision, he eased off the shrinker sock covering his stump and then reached for his crutches, slowly but successfully standing up from his chair. Very carefully, he made his way to the pool, and when he had reached its edge, lowered himself to the ground, letting the crutches fall to the side. If there was one aspect of him that had improved since the surgery, it was his balance; the therapy was making it easier to do things on one leg, and at least that was one area where he could see a bit of progress.
Still dressed in a t-shirt and basketball shorts, he stretched out his right leg, letting his toes graze the surface of the pool. It was heated, and the water was just the right temperature. Taking a deep breath, he pushed off with his hands, lowering himself into the water. It was a bit of a shock at first, to be suddenly half-submerged in water after a month of being a landlubber, but his right foot quickly came into contact with the smooth bottom. The warm water seemed to soothe his stump, which had twinged when he removed the shrinker, as if often did.
“You’re in!” Claire cried gleefully, clapping her hands. “What happened to the boxers idea?”
“Hey, I’m not bearing my sexy body if you’re not going to,” Nick defended, running his wet hands down his chest and smirking.
“Fair enough,” said Claire with a shrug. “So... you’re in the water. How does it feel?”
“Good,” Nick smiled, a sudden spurt of euphoria rushing through his body. Feeling suddenly daring, he bent his knee and sank lower, so that the water was up to his shoulders. And then he pushed off of the ground with his good leg and quickly brought it up to kick off the wall, propelling his body forward through the water. Immediately, he begin to freestyle with his arms, kicking with his right leg and trying to fight the temptation to kick with his left.
At first, his body wanted to tip over in the water, its lopsidedness changing his buoyancy. But he quickly learned to compensate, and it did not take him long to make it to the deep end. His swimming was weaker and slower than it had once been, but he found that he could still swim without much trouble.
The feeling of pushing himself through the water was incredible; it gave the word freedom a new definition. On land, he had been a fish out of water, struggling to walk, fighting the terms he had been unofficially labeled with: disabled... crippled... handicapped. He was like a penguin, awkward on land, powerful in the water.
“What did I tell you!” Claire called, quickly swimming over to meet him. “See, now you have something to do.”
Nick chuckled, grinning. “Guess so. You were right.”
“Always am,” smirked Claire.
They swam awhile longer and then got out. Swimming with only half the kicking power made Nick’s arms do most of the work, and it was not long before they tired out. His muscles screamed in protest as he sluggishly hauled himself back into the house on crutches, leading a trail of water from the patio all the way to his bedroom.
“Any sign of J and Howie?” he asked Claire, who slowly tagged along behind.
“Nope, don’t think they’re back yet.”
“You gonna stick around then?” He tried to keep his voice from sounding too hopeful.
“If you give me some dry clothes to change into,” she replied.
“My clothes?” Nick heaved an exhausted sigh as he sank down into a chair in his room, not caring that he was going to leave a big, wet butt-mark on its upholstery. “Girl, you ain’t gonna fit into anything I got.”
“I don’t care if it fits, as long as it’s dry,” she said, unbothered.
Nick shrugged. “Okay. Closet’s over there, wear whatever you want. Would you toss me a pair of shorts though? And a sweatshirt? It’s kinda cold in here with the air on.”
“Sure thing.” Disappearing into the walk-in closet, Claire emerged a minute later with a pair of gray shorts and a black sweatshirt for him and a pair of navy blue shorts and a white sweatshirt for her. Handing him his clothes, she went into the bathroom and left him alone to change. He did so, leaving his wet clothes in a heap on the floor and making it to his bed, where he stretched out tiredly, knowing he probably would not get up again anytime soon.
Claire came out of the bathroom and smiled when she saw him. “You look comfy,” she commented.
“And you look... lost.” He chuckled at the sight of her in his clothes – the sweatshirt was several sizes too big and almost reached her knees, while the sleeves totally hid her hands, and the shorts went to the middle of her shins and looked about ready to fall down, they were so baggy. If it weren’t for the drawstring waist, he was sure they would have.
Claire shrugged. “They’re comfortable,” she said and climbed onto the bed, lying down beside him without a care in the world. “I left all my clothes lying on your bathroom floor, hope you don’t mind. I’ll get them before I leave, and I can just bring back your stuff tomorrow or something.”
“Cool with me,” Nick mumbled, closing his eyes and massaging his temples. He could feel a headache coming on; maybe it was from the swimming and the chlorinated water. “Claire,” he said, “you think you could turn on the lamp by the bed and turn off the overhead light? I’m getting a headache.” Turning his head, he stuck out his bottom lip and gave her a puppy-eyed, pleading look.
“I guess I could...”
“Would you?”
She smiled. “Sure.” Rolling off the bed, she came around to Nick’s side and turned on the lamp that sat on his nightstand, then crossed the room to the door, where she flipped the light switch, sending the room into shadows. “Mmm, I’m gonna fall asleep,” she murmured as she returned to her place at his side. “Bed plus darkness equals sleepy Claire.”
Nick chuckled. “I dunno if I’m quite ready for bed yet,” he said. “So you gotta stay awake and keep me company.”
“Oh really? You better entertain me enough to keep me awake then.”
He laughed and reached for the collection of remote controls that were handily stored in a box on the floor beside the bed, just in the range of one of his long arms. He found the remote for the stereo and hit the play button. “You like Journey?” Nick asked, as their “Greatest Hits” album began to play.
“Sure,” answered Claire, settling back to listen.
Casually, Nick stretched out his arm across the top of the pillow her head rested on, silently inviting her to snuggle closer. Wordlessly, she did, and he let his arm come down around her, hugging her body to his.
They lay like that for a long time, silently listening to the music. But by halfway through the CD, Claire had fallen asleep, as had Nick’s arm. He carefully pulled it out from under her, trying not to disturb her, and gave it a shake, trying to rid it of the pins-and-needles tingling. Claire sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her side, facing him. Smiling lightly, he studied her expressionless face in the dim light. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, a few strands of carroty hair falling over her pale pink cheek. Gently, he brushed them away, his fingers lingering on her soft, smooth skin.
For a few more songs, they lay together, Claire lost in sleep, Nick lost in Claire, dreamily watching her as she slept, oblivious to the way his heart beat just a little faster when he was so close to her, the way his whole body tingled every time he so much as brushed against her, the way he had grown to love her inside and out and more than he had ever imagined he would.
“Open Arms,” one of his absolute favorite Journey songs, began to play, and the moment could not have been more perfect. Smiling tenderly, he sang the familiar lyrics as softly as possible, almost inaudibly, his gaze never departing from her serene face.
“Lying beside you, here in the dark
Feeling your heart beat with mine
Softly you whisper, you’re so sincere
How could our love be so blind
We sailed on together
We drifted apart
And here you are by my side
“So now I come to you, with open arms
Nothing to hide, believe what I say
So here I am with open arms
Hoping you’ll see what your love means to me
Open arms”
As the chorus ended, her eyelashes fluttered, and he drew back, watching carefully as her eyelids rose, exposing sleepy blue eyes. “Were you singing?” she murmured, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“No... just the CD,” coyly lied Nick.
“Uh-huh... ‘Open Arms’... I love this song.”
“I love this song too,” he echoed lamely.
Smiling, she inched her body ever so slightly toward him, and his heart skipped a beat and then began to race. Her face was so close to his, close enough for him to roll just a little, lean over, and...
The turning of the doorknob caused Nick to jerk back into his original position, flat on his back, while Claire sat up and scooted away just in time for the door to open, and AJ to stick his head in.
“Oh. There you are,” he said matter-of-factly, glancing from Nick to Claire. “What’s up, kids?” He did a double-take at Claire and asked, “Uh, question – one, why is your hair wet, and two, why are you wearing Nick’s clothes? Those are Nick’s clothes, right?” Claire let out a giggle, and AJ raised an eyebrow in bewilderment.
“We went swimming,” Claire said. “In our clothes. Which are currently leaving a huge puddle of water on the floor.”
AJ blinked. “Swimming?” he repeated incredulously, his eyes darting from Claire back to Nick. “You too?” Nick nodded, grinning. “Well, well... as long as you don’t go telling Kevin that you randomly went swimming in the dark with only a girl to play lifeguard, that’s awesome, Nicky.”
“Only a girl?” Claire repeated. “Hm, should I be offended by that, AJ?”
“Why, no, Claire,” AJ said quickly and offered her a wide grin. “I’m just saying... you weigh like half as much as Nick does; if he drowned, you wouldn’t be able to haul his ass out of the water.”
“Yeah, she did.”
The words were out of Nick’s mouth before he could stop them, and both Claire and AJ gave him strange looks.
“I did?” Claire said, cocking her head at him in amusement.
“You could,” Nick quickly corrected himself and rambled on, flustered, “I-I mean, you’re a tough chick, you could haul my ass out of the water. And you’re supposed to be lighter in water anyway, right?”
AJ laughed. “Sure, Nick.”
Nick could feel his cheeks turning red as he thought back to the last of the recurring shark nightmares he’d been plagued with... the shark had attacked him, taking his leg (creepy, he realized, how that dream had almost seemed to predict what would later happen in real life) and leaving him fighting the waves and losing the fight, as he grew weak from blood loss. And then, when he had been drowning and near death, someone had pulled him ashore. Someone had saved him. A girl with red hair whose face he could not see. And though, in the dream, the woman’s hair had been long, and she had a... fishtail..., he knew now who she had to represent.
Claire.
She had saved him in the dream, and he couldn’t help but think that maybe it meant something. Not literally, obviously, but perhaps symbolically. Maybe it was telling him that she was the one who would pull him out of the stormy waters of his life, who would end his suffering and bring him back to the warm sands, back to happiness and peace.
Or maybe that was just a bunch of bullshit.
He really did not know what to think, but he was definitely sure about one thing...
Damn, I wish AJ hadn’t come in.
***
