His robe felt unusually loose on him, and while the tub filled, he took notice of his scale, which lay neglected in the corner. He was sure he had lost weight during the tour; night after night of jumping around on stage would do that to a person. Curious to find out exactly how much, he shed his robe and climbed onto the scale. When the digital red numbers appeared, revealing his weight, he gasped aloud in shock and delight. He had lost twenty-five pounds! No wonder his pants had been so baggy on him lately... they must have been at least a size or two too big. How had that happened? Though he always lost weight when he was touring, he had never lost twenty-five pounds in a month before.
Guess I must be doing something right, he thought with a grin, turning off the water. As he climbed into the tub, he banged his shin on the rim. Cursing loudly, he fell into the tub with a splash and sat gripping his leg and rocking back and forth, while pain coursed through it. He was such a klutz lately.
When the pain subsided, Nick sank back in the water, letting out a heavenly sigh. This was the life. He would have been content to stay in that tub all night, just relaxing and trying to take his mind off of Leah. But eventually, he grew bored and climbed out. Wrapping himself in his bathrobe, he perched on the edge of the tub and watched the water drain from it.
When the tub was empty, he hoisted himself up. Immediately, pain shot through his left shin, right where he had banged it on the tub. Gasping in agony, he fell back onto the tub ledge, grabbing his leg yet again.
“Man, I must have really nailed myself,” he moaned, gingerly rubbing his shin. It ached under his fingertips, and he knew he would soon have an angry bruise forming there. But how could it possibly hurt that much when he stood on it? A bruise wouldn’t cause that, would it?
He decided to stand up again, to test it. He was met with the same result – total pain. “Lovely,” he muttered, massaging his shin. How was he supposed to get out of the bathroom if he couldn’t even put weight on his left leg? He sat there for a few minutes, considering his predicament. Finally, he decided to just crawl out. Feeling incredibly stupid and glad that he lived alone, he lowered himself to his knees, grunting in discomfort, and took off crawling slowly across the cold, tiled floor. His left knee protested the movement, but it hurt a lot less than trying to walk, so he gritted his teeth and bore it, continuing on across the floor. He crawled all the way into his bedroom, across the plush carpet (which felt much better on his knees), and to his bed. There, he pulled himself up and onto the bed, where he collapsed, panting.
He was still wearing only his robe, which was now damp from his skin. But he didn’t have the energy to get up and find a pair of boxers to sleep in. Exhausted, he stretched out and closed his eyes, assuring himself that everything would be better in the morning.
***
When morning came, things were indeed better. After awakening and remembering the previous night’s events, Nick took a deep breath, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and slowly stood up. His leg panged, but did not give out, and though it hurt, the pain was less than it had been the night before, and he could walk on the leg. Relieved, he limped around the room a few times, then came back to rest on his bed. Propping his leg up in front of him, he pulled back the terrycloth material of his robe and examined his shin. Indeed, there was an angry bruise running across it, right where he had banged it on the tub. Not only that, but his whole leg looked larger than the other one. Yes, it was definitely swollen. He had really gotten himself. Running his fingers across the tender skin, he winced, shrugged, and swung his leg back over the side of the bed. Standing back up, he walked across the room to his closet.
When he was dressed, he decided to try to get downstairs for some breakfast. He took the stairs slowly, clinging to the banister as he hobbled down. Eventually, he made it to the kitchen. As he limped around, rounding up a box of cereal and carton of milk, the phone rang. Cursing under his breath, Nick left his breakfast on the counter and made it to the phone.
“Hello,” he panted, grabbing the phone and immediately sinking down into the nearest chair, his leg throbbing.
“Hey, Nick? It’s Bri. Are you okay?”
Nick chuckled at Brian’s apparent concern. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said sheepishly. “I just... uh... hurt my leg yesterday, and it’s a bit hard to get around right now.”
“Hurt your leg? What’d you do?” Brian sounded even more worried now.
“Nothing serious. It’s okay, just bruised,” Nick said quickly, hoping Brian wouldn’t ask how it had happened. It was a little embarrassing to admit being in this much pain after knocking himself on a bathtub.
“Oh... okay. So, how’s it going, other than that? You got home yesterday, right?”
“Yup. And everything’s going fine.”
“That’s good. So the tour wrapped up okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. And how’s your new girlfriend? Leah?”
“Oh... uh...” Nick thought quickly, wondering what to say. He settled on a lie, telling Brian, “She’s... uh... she’s doing good.”
Unfortunately, Brian knew him far too well. “Really. Are you sure?” he asked, his voice tinged with skepticism.
“Well... actually... no... we kinda broke up,” Nick admitted.
“Aw... sorry, dude. What happened?”
“Long story.”
“Oh. I see. Well, if you ever wanna talk about it... you know I’m here.”
“Yeah.” Like you’d understand. “Thanks, Bri.”
“No problem.” A silence fell between them, broken only by Brian’s question, “So... what are your plans for the rest of the week?”
“Don’t got any.”
“Oh... you know, you should come up to Atlanta sometime soon. I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Well, you’re coming down here in a few weeks to work on the album. I’ll see you then,” said Nick.
“Well, I know... but you haven’t seen Leigh or Baylee either.”
Leigh and Baylee... of course he had to bring them up. Couldn’t have a conversation without them these days. Nick felt very selfish, but he couldn’t deny the truth – in some weird, crazy way, he was jealous of Brian’s family. He liked Leighanne, and you couldn’t help but adore Baylee, but still... they took up so much of Brian’s time, and when Brian was not with them, they took up all his thoughts. Nick knew this was the way it should be, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed by the man who had once been his best friend.
He still is your best friend, Nick told himself angrily. Stop being such an asshole.
“Nick? You there?”
“Yeah,” Nick said quickly. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I was saying that you should try to come to Atlanta soon and see us all.” Brian sounded slightly annoyed at having to repeat this.
“Oh. Right. I’d love to,” Nick replied quickly.
“Really?”
“Definitely. When?”
“Whenever you want... what about next weekend?”
“Next weekend?” Nick went over his schedule in his head, but he was only kidding himself. He had no plans, and he knew it. “Yeah, Brian, next weekend sounds good.”
“Great. Will you drive up or fly?”
“Um...” Nick groaned inwardly. The thought of driving hours and hours to Atlanta was not appealing, but God, he hated flying with a passion. “I’ll probably fly. I’ll call the airport later and see about getting a ticket.”
“Okay, cool. Leighanne will be glad; I told her I was going to ask you to come stay. Just wait till you see Baylee; he’s grown so much since the last time you saw him.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said,” said Nick. “Can’t wait to see him.”
“Hey, speaking of Baylee... I had a question for ya, Nick.”
“Oh yeah? What?”
“Well, Leigh and I have been thinking... we want Baylee to have a godfather. And we thought... well, if you want to, that is... Nick, how would you like to be Baylee’s godfather?”
“Godfather?” Nick asked in surprise. “Me??”
“You’re my best friend, Nick. I want you to be a part of my son’s life.”
Nick couldn’t help but feel flattered at this. Grinning, he said, “Aw, sure, Rok. I’d love to be his godfather.”
“Thanks, Nick. That means a lot to me and Leigh.”
“No problem, dude. It’s an honor.”
“Well, I’d better let you go now,” said Brian. “Call me later when you get your flight arrangements, okay?”
“All right. Later, Frick.”
“Bye, Frack.”
***
