~ Chapter Sixty Six ~ 

"Oh my goodness!"  Becky shrieked, bolting upright in the bed, a horrified expression on her face.

"What?"  AJ jumped slightly, half expecting her to announce there was a spider crawling across her feet. 

"Gertrude!"  Becky said dramatically, her mouth falling open.

"Say what?" 

"Gertrude."  Becky repeated it slowly, sounding strangely like her father.  "She's not here!  I left Gertrude!"

"Who's Gertrude?"  AJ glanced from Becky to Felicia and back again, waiting for someone to clue him in. 

"Her doll."  Felicia explained.  "Where'd you leave her, Becky?"

"In LA!"  Becky's face grew more distraught.  "I forgot her!  Just like Daddy forgot me!"

AJ bit back a laugh.  There was no possible way Kevin had ever forgotten his child before, but it certainly hadn't scarred her in the slightest.  She treated it as if it was something that happened every day.  "I bet she's stuck in with all your parents stuff, okay?  And if she isn't, the hotel will find her."

"You don't understand."  Becky shook her head.  "She's a very special doll!  Brian gave her to me!  She's an angel!"

"Oh, she's an angel!"  AJ said, as if this explained everything.  "Well, in that case, don't worry about it."

"Why?"  Becky said hesitantly. 

"'Cause she's taking care of your parents."  AJ had always wondered how his mind came up with these things, and from the look on Felicia's face, she was wondering the same thing.

"You really think so?"  Becky scrunched her face up to think about this option.  "How come you know so much stuff about angels anyway?"

"Because I'm older than you, and I've been around longer."  AJ dismissed her.  "Now, go to bed.  Please." 

"Okay."  Becky said doubtfully.  "But leave the door open, please."

~*~

Stacy rolled over onto her back, pushing her hair back from her face.  Her brain was still trying to process exactly where she was and why her alarm hadn't gone off.  It didn't feel like a weekend.  She was over at Nick's house, which was strange enough in itself.  As a general rule, they ended up at her place. 

Her brain cleared, everything suddenly falling into place.  She had flown back into town last night, picked Nick up, and they had both crashed at his place.  Well, truth be told, Nick had crashed long before that.  It had taken some serious talking just to get him in the car, and back out. 

The clock next to the bed said it was two in the afternoon, but Stacy knew better than to believe it.  Most of the clocks in Nick's house were incorrect.  He randomly set them to a time just to make them stop flashing.  Her watch said it was seven fifteen in the morning.

Nick was still asleep, which given the hour of the morning was perfectly normal.  She might have been able to talk him into getting out of the car, but she hadn't talked him into changing into something other than the clothes he had flown home in.  She had pulled his jacket off, with Nick giving her as much of a look of death as he could muster without actually moving his face, but the khakis and the shirt had remained. 

Now he was rolled over on his side, one arm up above his head, mouth open, hair on end every which way.  It would have been adorable, had Stacy not felt so sorry for him.  He was sick, his best friend had just passed away, and his so called girlfriend had flat out refused to go to Los Angeles with him, even though he had asked her. 

She rolled off the bed; now that she was awake she might as well get up and moving.  The chances of finding something edible in Nick's kitchen were quite slim, but she could at least take a shower.  Her bags were still in the back of her car, which had to be the only good thing Stacy could find about this day so far. 

An hour and a half later at the kitchen table, Stacy was halfway through the novel she had shoved into her purse before she left for Minneapolis and never had a chance to read, when Nick appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. 

"You're up early!"  Stacy said in surprise, lying the book face down on the table.  Nick's hair was even more on end, if that was possible, and he looked as standing was just about all that his head could handle right then.

"I guess."  He said quietly.  "How come you're here?"

Stacy winced.  That hadn't been an especially warm welcome.  "Well, I wasn't leaving you here alone."

Nick was shaking his head.  "No... how come you're not at work?"

"I don't have to work."  Stacy gave him the simple explanation.  There was a lot more to it than that, but Nick didn't look as if his brain was working anyway.

He just gave her a slightly blank look and vanished back into the other room.

Stacy sat, slightly stunned at his abrupt departure for just a moment, before standing up and heading after him. 

"Sorry."  Nick said from the couch, curled up sideways against the back.  "I'm a little dizzy and my head decided it was time to sit down."

  Stacy gave up on trying to figure out if he was mad at her or not, sinking down onto the couch and pulling him into a hug.  "Poor thing... how's your head today?"

"Spinning."  Nick's voice was muffled against her shoulder. 

Stacy bit back a smile.  "It doesn't hurt like it did yesterday?"

Nick pulled back and squinted at her thoughtfully.  "I guess.  I don't remember yesterday very well.  I was kind of out of it." He curled up against her shoulder again.  "I don't remember a whole lot of the game day either.  I remember the ninth and realizing if Howie didn't make an out, that I was gonna be the last out of the World Series... and then after the game... that was when stuff started falling apart."  He reached over with one hand to wrap a section of Stacy's hair around his finger.  "I don't think I've ever been that sick."

"Nick, I'm sorry."  Stacy rubbed her hand along the ribbed material of his pullover shirt.  "If I had it to do over again, I'd go to LA." 

"It doesn't matter."  Nick sighed.

"Yes, it does."  Stacy protested.

"No, it doesn't."  Nick said quietly.  "It wouldn't have changed anything."

"You wouldn't have been alone."

Nick straightened, his eyes meeting Stacy's.  For once, the usual mask wasn't in place.  It was the first time Stacy could ever remember him looking vulnerable.  "I'm used to being alone." 

"You shouldn't be."  Stacy swallowed hard.  This day was getting more and more depressing by the minute. 

"Yeah, well..."  Nick stood up slowly and pushed his hair back off his forehead.  "I feel like s---.  I'm going back to bed."

Stacy leaned her head on her arms and watched him disappear back down the hallway.  She had her work cut out for her.  It was hard to tell which was more depressing, the fact that she couldn't get through to Nick, or those few seconds when she had, and realized exactly how miserable he was.