“What are you doing here?” he asked her, ignoring her question.
“What do you mean, what am I doing here? I came to see you, of course,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, yeah, I figured that, but... why? I mean... how did you know I was here?”
“Brian called. He said... uh... he said you weren’t doing too well...” She studied her manicured fingernails, purposely avoiding his eyes as her voice tapered off.
Nick rolled his eyes, muttering crossly, “Brian overreacts.”
“Not by the looks of things.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Jane glanced up quickly, then looked away as soon as their eyes met. “I just mean that you don’t... well... you... you don’t look good.”
Nick sighed in disgust. “Is that the only thing you care about? What I fucking look like? Yeah, I look like shit, okay, I know! I can’t help it – it’s the damn chemo.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant-“
“Well, I lost weight, I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that. Look, you see!” He tore off the covers, exposing his body, which had thinned considerably since the last time she had seen him. “At least now you can’t badger me about my weight anymore.”
A hurt look crossed his mother’s eyes, and part of him felt guilty. But secretly, another part was glad. Half of him wanted to hurt her, wanted to make her feel bad. She had done it to him so many times before... she deserved it, as far as he was concerned.
“Nicky-“
“Don’t call me that; I’m not five anymore. I don’t need to be babied, and you don’t have to come all the way to Florida, pretending to be my mother, just because I’m sick.”
He knew he should stop saying things like that; he was going too far, he was crossing the line. But at the moment, he didn’t care. Caught up in the moment, wanting to release the months of pent-up anger at her, he kept firing his mouth off, not thinking, not taking her feelings into consideration at all.
She was crying now, silent, her head down, forehead resting against the heel of her hand. He stopped. “Mom?” he asked, his tone softening. She did not respond. “Mom?” he said again. “I’m sorry. I...” He started to go on, to apologize, to tell her he hadn’t meant most of the things he had said, but the intense emotions seemed to have caught up with him, and he suddenly felt extremely nauseous. Not again, not now, he thought miserably, diving for the emesis basin. He retrieved it just in time and slanted over it, heaving.
He could not see much while he was doubled over, choking and retching, but all of a sudden, he felt a hand lightly touch his back. Too weak to pull away, he continued to throw up, allowing her to gently rub his back. When he was done, she said softly, “Here, let me take that” and placed the basin on the bedside table. Then she eased him back down into bed and whispered, “Hang on just a minute.” She left his side and went into the bathroom, where he heard water running. Then she returned, carrying a warm, damp cloth, which she handed to him to wipe his mouth with.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, too drained to be angry with her anymore.
She only sat back down, and silence filled the room. It was broken by her quiet inquiry, “How often do you throw up like that?”
“I dunno... a lot,” he answered tiredly. “It’s no biggie; I’m pretty much used to it by now.” This, of course, was far from true, but he couldn’t let her know that. He was a grown man; he couldn’t be bitching and whining about throwing up. That would only make her worry more, if indeed she really was concerned about him. He kind of figured she had to be though, to come all the way from California. Either that or this was all some publicity stunt. He tried to push that possibility far from his mind and be optimistic.
“Oh, baby...” Jane whispered, her voice filled with sorrow. Gingerly, she reached out and touched his bare left shin. Running her fingers lightly over his skin, she said, “So this is where it all started, huh?”
“Yup.”
“How does your leg feel? Does it hurt?”
“Yeah. It still hurts to walk on it, and it throbs sometimes, you know. I got pain meds for that though, and they help.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
The small talk diminished, and Jane sat back in her chair, nervously biting her lip, not knowing what to say. Racking his brain, Nick asked casually, “So, how’s the rest of the family? They’re all still in Cali, right?”
“Yeah, they stayed behind this time,” replied Jane. “I thought it would be better if maybe I just came to see you at first. But if you want them to come-“
“No, not now,” Nick interrupted quickly. “They don’t need to see me like this... ‘specially the kids, you know. Aaron and Angel. It’ll probably freak ‘em out.”
Jane nodded. “I think your brother’s plenty freaked out already.”
“Is he?” Nick felt bad, wishing he’d called Aaron, talked to him about this. The last time he had heard from his brother was before the TRL appearance, before the whole world found out about his cancer.
“Yeah... he doesn’t really talk about it though. You know boys – never want to share their emotions.”
Nick smiled. Well, that was definitely true. “I’ll call him sometime, when I’m feeling a little better,” Nick promised.
“And when will that be? When will you get out of here?” Jane wondered.
“Probably tomorrow morning. I’m just in here so they can test the new chemo.”
“Yes, that’s what Brian told me. Well, that’s good.”
“Yeah.”
Again, they drifted off into silence. For the past few years, Nick’s relationship with his mother had been strained at best, so this conversation was really not much different from the usual ones. Small talk or arguing – that’s usually what their conversations consisted of. At least the cancer hadn’t changed that. Nick only hoped that maybe, somehow, his being sick would help bring them back together, repair their broken relationship.
Their broken relationship... it seemed everything in his life was broken these days... even his life itself. Nothing was going right anymore. There was a time, just a few months ago, when he had been on top of the world. Now his love life was nonexistent, his family ties were frayed, he felt suffocated by his bandmates and separated from his other friends... not to mention, he was suffering from a life-threatening illness. His whole world was crashing down, falling apart. Breaking.
Could it ever be fixed?
***
