July 12, 2001 Tampa, Florida

“So, have you thought of a name yet?” the nurse asked with a kind smile.

Tina was about to answer to the negative when the door swung open and her parents walked in.

“Good afternoon honey,” Lynn greeted her, grinning at the nurse then her daughter and the baby but Tina didn’t buy her cheery exterior.

“Where the hell is he?” she came right to the point and the nurse cleared her throat uncomfortably.

Her mother put a hand on her shoulder, trying to be comforting, “Calm down.”

“I will not calm down,” she said, laughing at the mere suggestion, “This is my fourth day sitting in this hospital and apart from his hasty exit the other night I haven’t seen him. Hell, he hasn’t seen her! What the hell is he doing right now that is so important?”

She hummed and hawed over the answer but it was her father that finally spoke up and told her what she needed to hear, or maybe wished she hadn’t heard.

“He’s in bed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, throwing her head back down on the pillow, “Our child doesn’t have a name, he hasn’t even held her and he’s at home sleeping?”

“I don’t think he’s sleeping,” the older man clarified, “I think he’s just in bed.”

“Well go get him out of bed!” she yelled, feeling tears welling up in her eyes, “What do I have to do to get him here?”

“Dangle a cupcake?” her father asked rhetorically into the silence of the room and she glared at him.

“Stop that, please, the last thing I need is for him to have any more reason to avoid being here,” she groaned, wiping away a tear that had made its way free. She turned to her mother with a pleading look, “Could you go talk to him?”

“What makes you think he’ll listen to me? He hates me,” she pointed out and Tina couldn’t necessarily tell her she was wrong for thinking that. After all, he’d said it multiple times. To her face.

“Maybe not talk to him,” she fought for the right words to relay what she meant, “maybe have him talk to you? Find out what’s wrong. He was really excited a few days ago; I don’t know what’s changed. There’s a chance, although a slim one, that he needs someone to talk to. It’s unlike him to just lie in bed all the time. You can say all you want that he’s lazy but I’ve never known him to sit still for quite so long.”

Her mother sighed heavily and Tina could tell she wasn’t thrilled about the idea, “Okay I’ll talk to him but only for the sake of you and the children not because I’m concerned about his mental well being. What do I do if it doesn’t work?”

“Take my cell phone,” she instructed, leaning over to grab it out of the bedside table, “and if there’s no change hit speed dial three.”

“What’s speed dial three?” her dad asked, leaning over curiously to look at the phone as if the answer would be printed on the face of it.

“It will put you straight through to a house in the Florida Keys,” she told them before finally revealing the catch, “It’s the private line to his father’s office.”

Her mother raised her eyebrow, “Why do you have that number on speed dial?”

“Because sometimes...” Tina sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, “he’s the only person who knows what’s going on in Nick’s head. People think it’s his friends, the other Boys, or whatever but it’s really not. They’re just as clueless as I am. Bob really knows Nick if only because they’re so alike.”

~*~

Lynn took a deep, reassuring breath before she walked into the house. She thought for sure that by now Nick would have to be up and around but instead she found Parker and the babysitter but no sign of Dad.

Parker was sitting at the kitchen table in his booster seat, colouring books and crayons spread out in front of him, “Hi Nana! Sarah and I are colouring!”

Lynn smiled and ruffled his hair, “Is his father around?” she asked the young woman, curious to know if Nick was still out of commission.

“Mr. Carter is still upstairs,” Sarah answered, glancing down at Parker quickly, “He hasn’t come out yet today. Parker was hoping he would have come down for lunch.”

“Don’t worry,” Lynn assured the girl, “He’s not going to be up there moping for much longer I promise you that.”

The older woman brushed her short salt and pepper hair back behind her ear then with conviction in her step trudged down the hall to the makeshift master bedroom where Tina had spent the past few months.

She knew Nick wasn’t really sleeping as soon as she opened the door to the darkened room. She’d seen hi m fall asleep in front of the television on many occasions and the boy was not a quiet sleeper. He snored like a motorboat.

He was laying flat on his stomach, hugging a pillow to the side of his face, eyes shut tight to the world. Lynn flipped on a light and pulled back the blankets, not caring that Nick was only in a pair of boxer-briefs and nothing else. It was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him she nudged his side.

“I know you’re not sleeping,” she said loudly, watching him carefully to see if he would continue the facade, “C’mon, get up and talk to me.”

“Go away,” Nick told her without opening his eyes, the muscles of his exposed back tightening defensively.

“Not going to happen,” she told him honestly, slapping him lightly between the shoulder blades.

It was over a full five minutes of the two of them sitting in complete silence, Nick trying to avoid getting up and Lynn not backing down from her mission to get him out of bed.

With a loud groan he finally gave up the fight, flipping himself over dramatically so he could pull himself up into a sitting position against the headboard.

“There, I’m awake,” he said as if she should have been satisfied with the result.

Lynn, not entertained by his antics, just shook her head, “What’s going on? Why have you been in bed for the past couple of days ignoring everyone? You should be at the hospital with your... with Tina, and your new baby.”

Nick just shrugged, avoiding looking into the eyes of his pseudo mother-in-law.

“Not good enough Nick,” she answered firmly, getting ready to pull out the mom tone.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, and I don’t have to sit here while you talk to me like I’m some kind of child,” Nick rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his bare chest, “I’m tired of you two always trying to control everything we do.”

Lynn rolled her own eyes and continued to try and stare him down, “Don’t try and change the subject. I’m treating you like a child because you’re acting like one. I’m not trying to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I just want to know if you’re okay. That’s all. I’m concerned about you.”

Nick was quiet for what felt like forever and Lynn was positive he’d shut off and wasn’t going to speak another word to her. As his eyes roamed around the room she was sure she saw sadness in them, and wondered what was going on in his head.

She waited until she’d had enough, and stood to leave him to his pity party but his voice, suddenly small and wavering stopped her.

“Wait...” he spoke and Lynn turned to look back at the bed.

“Are you okay?” she repeated, seeing that he was struggling to hold back what she was certain were tears.

“No,” Nick finally admitted, letting out a heavy breath, “I’ve never been less okay in my life.”

Lynn knew that she could be many things for the young man but looking at the defeat in his face, and what appeared to be the weight of the world on his shoulders she knew that being his psychologist was not one of them, it was just too daunting a task. So instead of pushing the issue she moved to rub his back, and reached into her pocket for Tina’s cell phone.