He was quickly brought back, however, by the familiar ring of his cell phone, which he had accidentally forgotten to turn off.
“Oops,” he let out meekly, his face burning red as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. He debated over whether to just turn it off or answer it; then, deciding he might as well answer it, since he’d disrupted the meeting anyway, he stood up and ducked out of the room with a quick, “’Scuse me a minute.”
In the hallway, he let the door to the conference room close and then quickly punched the talk button on his phone. “Hello?” he answered, putting it to his ear.
“Hi, Nick? This is Carrie Ryan, Claire’s mom.”
Nick’s heart rate immediately went up, and his mouth suddenly felt as dry as cotton. Swallowing hard, he gulped, “Hi, Carrie... is something wrong with Claire?”
“She’s sick, Nick. She’s really sick,” Carrie answered grimly. “She has an infection, and it’s... it’s bad.”
“Oh God...” Nick murmured shakily, his mind racing. Claire... sick... infection... bad... “H-how bad is it? I mean, they don’t think she’s going to... die... do they?”
Carrie let out a plaintive sigh. “Dr. Rodrigo’s put her on all kinds of antibiotics, but there’s been no change yet... and if they don’t help... with her immune system wiped out, she can’t fight the infection... it’ll take over...” She was babbling, and Nick could tell she was distraught. Yet, as she trailed off, he knew exactly what she was saying. This was really serious. Claire was very sick indeed, and if the medications they were giving her didn’t do their job... she could die.
Immediately, he knew what he had to do. “Carrie,” he said firmly. “If Claire’s awake, you tell her to hang on, okay? I’m coming back to Tampa. Today.”
“Oh, Nick, you don’t have to rush down here. I-I didn’t want you to do that. I just thought you should know what was going on.”
“Yes. Thank you for telling me. But I... I can’t just stay up here and worry about her. I’m going to try to get on the next flight to Florida, and-“
A click behind him caused him to stop, and he turned to see Kevin step out of the conference room, a scowl on his face. He glared when he spotted Nick, pointed over his shoulder, and hissed, “Get off the damn phone and get back in there now!”
Nick glared right back and purposely turned so that his back was to Kevin, speaking quickly into the phone. “Sorry, Carrie... um, okay, I gotta go now, but I’ll be down as soon as I can, okay? Tell her I’m coming.”
“I will, Nick,” Carrie replied compliantly. “I’ll see you when you get here; have a safe flight.”
“Thanks,” Nick mumbled into the phone, sensing Kevin approaching him from behind and quickly shut off the phone before the older man could grab it out of his hand and hurl it down the hall.
“Nick,” Kevin started angrily, as soon as Nick had shoved the phone back into his pocket and turned around to face him, “do you know how rude-“
“I’m sorry, Kev,” Nick apologized quickly, “but I gotta go.”
Kevin stopped in mid-tirade, his mouth hanging open as he surveyed Nick in surprise. “You what?”
“I have to leave. I have to fly home, to Tampa,” Nick clarified. “Um, one of my friends is... is really sick, and I need to go down there.” He stared desperately at Kevin, silently pleading for his approval.
Kevin’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Sick how?”
“She has leukemia,” explained Nick, “and now she’s got an infection, and she’s very sick. She could die, Kevin.” It hurt him to say those words, but he knew that was the reality of the situation, and if hearing that was what it took to get Kevin to let him go, so be it.
Kevin’s gaze softened. “And this is a friend of yours?”
“Yes,” Nick answered firmly. “She’s been with me through all kinds of shit these past few months, and now I need to be with her. I know these meetings are important, but, please, Kevin... this is more important than any meeting. I have to go.”
Kevin nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “You do have to go. Go pack your stuff, and I’ll call the airport.”
Nick sagged with relief and impulsively threw his arms around Kevin, hugging his older brother quickly. “Thanks, Kev,” he said sincerely.
“No problem, buddy. Go ahead; I’ll tell the guys.” He patted Nick on the shoulder and turned to go back into the conference room. Meanwhile, Nick was already jogging to the elevators.
***
The flight back to Tampa that afternoon was pure hell. Nick hated flying with a passion, but never before had he felt so anxious on a plane. Of course, that had nothing to do with the plane itself. He was a bundle of nerves, and he felt sick to his stomach. And he knew that it was not the turbulence of the plane, nor the side effects of the drugs he was on. He was scared, scared for Claire, and until he got to the hospital and saw her for himself, he could not relax.
Horrific thoughts kept running through his head.
What if she dies?
What if she’s dying right now?
And the worst - what if she’s already dead?
He had been nervous before the bone marrow transplant, but that didn’t even compare to how terrified he was now. The thought of losing Claire... the thought of never seeing her, never hanging out with her, never talking to her ever again... was unbearable. Yet he knew it was definitely possible. Being diagnosed with cancer had opened the doors to a whole new frightening world for him, a world where people got sick enough to die... and sometimes did.
And he feared Claire was becoming one of those people.
As soon he departed the plane, Nick was off running through the airport, his suitcase in one hand, his duffel bag in the other, not caring who saw him or how much his leg was paining him or how out of breath he was. He simply ran until he escaped the large airport and flagged down a taxi.
“Tampa GeneralHospital, please, and hurry,” he panted to the cab driver, and they were off. He looked out the window as the outside world flashed by, gazing at it without really seeing it. People drove their cars and walked along the sidewalks, going about their business as usual, while Nick felt like he was in a race against time, struggling to make it to the hospital before the girl that had become one of his closest friends slipped away from him.
When the taxi pulled up in front of the hospital, Nick shoved a wad of bills into the cabby’s hand (carelessly tipping him way too much) and practically flew out of the backseat, grabbing his luggage and hurrying through the rotating glass doors leading into the hospital’s large lobby. He took the familiar trek to the oncology ward, riding the elevator up to the fifth floor, and hurrying to the nurses station, hoping to find Samantha or one of the other nurses he was familiar with.
To his relief, Samantha was there, and she looked up in shock when he came tearing up to the desk area.
“Nick! What are you doing here? I thought you guys were in New York – I saw you yesterday on MTV; we were all watching it up here.”
“I’m here to see Claire,” he said breathlessly. “I heard she... wasn’t doing so good.”
He saw the young nurse’s eyes flicker with momentary sadness, and she nodded. “Well, come on... I’ll take you back to the isolation ward... but you won’t be able to go in her room.”
“Still? B-but...”
“I’m sorry, Nick,” Samantha apologized. “Come with me.”
With a sigh, he trudged behind her as she led him into the isolation ward and down the hall to Claire’s room. He found her brother Kyle and his wife slumped in chairs outside the room.
“Hey, Nick,” Kyle said in a low voice when he approached.
“Hi,” Nick replied warily. “Um... how is she?”
Kyle shook his head, running his hand exhaustedly through his rust-colored hair. “Not good,” he answered flatly. “No one knows if she’s going to pull through this or not.” Nick was silent, but Kyle went on, “God, I can’t believe this. Claire’s been through so damn much... and I really thought this bone marrow transplant was going to work wonders for her. But she’s sicker now than she’s ever been. I can’t help but think maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the risk.”
“B-but she would have died without it, right? Eventually?”
“That’s what the doctor said... but who knows. I don’t know what to believe anymore.” He heaved a frustrated sigh.
“Sorry,” Nick murmured and suddenly felt very uncomfortable, like he shouldn’t be there. This was Claire’s family, and he was not a part of it. He had only known her for a few months; what right did he have to be there?
At that moment, the door to Claire’s room slowly opened, and out came her drained-looking parents, Carrie and Kris.
“Oh, Nick, you’re here,” said Carrie with a weary smile.
“Hi,” he said. “Um... is Claire awake, or what?”
“She’s been drifting in and out,” Carrie answered solemnly. “They’ve got her heavily sedated, so she’s a little out of it. Do you want to go see her?”
“Can I?” asked Nick in surprise. “I thought...” He glanced back at Samantha, who bit her lip and shook her head.
“According to hospital policy, she’s-“
“Please, miss, he came all the way from New York. Surely he can go in to be with my daughter for a few minutes. Why should it matter if he’s related to her or not?” Carrie pressed.
“Yeah, what she said,” Nick added, putting on a pitiful version of the half-smile for Samantha, hoping that would win her over. The nurse’s lips twitched in the corners, and finally, she nodded, smiling.
“Fine,” she said. “Let me grab you a gown, and you can go in, Nick, but only for ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes it is then,” he replied agreeably.
Samantha got him a giant, flowing surgical gown like he had worn before and helped him into it, tying the straps in the back for him. He pulled on the hat, mask, and shoe covers, and when Samantha had made sure he was totally “gowned up,” she opened the door to Claire’s room for him. “Ten minutes,” she warned again before closing the door behind him.
Nodding, Nick slowly crossed the darkened room to Claire’s bed, his feet suddenly feeling like lead weights, his heart fluttering nervously. The last time he had seen Claire – through the window of her room the day he had been declared in remission – she hadn’t looked good. But now, as he came up to her bed and warily peered down at her, he saw the looked even worse than before.
She was lying on her side, curled into the fetal position, her eyes closed as she slept. She was hooked up to most of the same machines and monitors that he had been during his confinement in ICU, a heart monitor, oxygen, IV’s, the works, and the sight of her like that alarmed him. He remembered how lively she always was... what a good sense of humor she had, and how she had always made him laugh... but Claire lying on the bed here in front of him couldn’t be that same girl.
But she was.
She was the same girl who had been with him during his very first chemo session, who had visited with him in the waiting room at all of his check-ups, who had come to see him in the hospital. She was the girl who had gone out to eat and stayed in watching “ET” and eating ice cream with him and who had dumped half a Blizzard all over that bitch at the Dairy Queen. And she was the girl who had cried in his arms on the middle of her couch and confessed her love for him under a starlit sky.
Now he looked down at her ashen, expressionless face with regret, wishing once again that he could feel the same way about her as she did about him. He loved her like a friend, even like a sister. But he didn’t love her.
But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was her getting better.
He took her hand, delicately intertwining his fingers with her. “Claire?” he whispered.
At his touch and the sound of his voice, her eyelashes fluttered, and her lids rose to uncover faded blue eyes, which gazed unfocusedly at him. “Nick?” she rasped, her voice weak and hard to hear.
“I’m here, babe,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I thought you were in... New York... I saw you... on TV.”
“I was,” he confirmed with a smile. “But I’m back now.”
“Did you come... for me?”
“Nah, you kidding? Why would I drag my ass all the way back here just for you?” He studied her face and was relieved to see a hint of a smile on her colorless lips.
“Good point... God, I feel like shit...”
He chuckled; cussing had to be a good sign. “Aren’t they givin’ ya some good drugs to take the edge off?”
“Oh yeah... they make me feel gooooood,” she slurred in a Cartman-esque voice, offering him a painful, crooked grin.
“Hey, now... drugs are bad, ‘mkay? You shouldn’t do drugs.”
She let out a soft giggle that made his heart soar. “I’ve got a few... South Park tapes... at home. Maybe when I’m... not so... out of it, I’ll get... Kyle... to bring them... we can watch them...”
“Sweet,” said Nick, Cartman-style. She smiled and closed her eyes, and after a moment, he thought she’d drifted off to sleep. Lightly, he touched her cheek, running two fingers up to her forehead, which was radiating with heat from a fever. She stirred, her eyes slowly opening again.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I can’t stay awake... damn the... drugs...”
“It’s okay,” Nick replied. “You just go to sleep, okay? I can only stay for ten minutes anyway, and then they’ll come kick me out.”
“That sucks...”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes fell shut again, and this time, she really did fall asleep, her ragged breathing becoming slower and deeper. He could hear the air rattling in her lungs with each labored breath and knew she was bad off. He just hoped the drugs were doing their job.
They will, he told himself with stubborn fierceness.
They just had to. Because after what they had been through together, he wasn’t about to lose her now.
***
