I’d been out of the hospital a month, and I still felt like shit. Recovering from a stem cell transplant is like having the flu, a flu that lasts for weeks on end. I was tired all the time. My body ached. I ran low-grade fevers, usually for no reason at all, but which I had to watch and worry about, in case they meant another infection. I had no appetite, so I kept losing weight, even though all I did was lie around. I slept a lot.
I had gone to take a nap and was just starting to drift off when I heard the door knock that day. I ignored it; Cary could answer it. It was probably one of the guys; they’d been coming over a lot lately, so she could get out for awhile. They’d hang out with me while she was gone, so I wouldn’t be alone. If it was Brian or AJ, we’d probably play video games or watch something on TV. When Kevin or Howie came, we usually just talked. Sometimes the conversations were one-sided; if I was really tired, they would just sit in my room with me while I dozed. I was pretty lame company.
Lying there with my eyes closed, I tried to think of whose turn it would be. Brian and his family had gone back to Georgia, so it couldn’t be him. I thought Howie had been over the day before, or had it been two days ago? I couldn’t remember for sure; the days seemed to blur together, and my brain felt fuzzy. So it was probably AJ or Kevin, or maybe Angel. She’d been coming to visit, too, checking up on me so she could tell the rest of the family how I was doing. They called or texted occasionally, but besides Angel, I hadn’t seen any of them since I’d flown the rest of my siblings in to break the news.
I heard Cary open the front door, but I couldn’t tell who was there. I hoped it was Kevin; he would let me sleep without having to carry on a conversation. AJ always needed to be entertained; it was too awkward for him, otherwise, just sitting with me. He would never admit it, but I could see it in his eyes, when he wasn’t hiding them behind his sunglasses.
Light filtered through my eyelids as it leaked into my room. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Cary standing in the doorway. “What’s up?” I muttered.
“You have a visitor, if you’re up for it. It’s Lauren.”
My heart skipped a beat. Lauren? Suddenly wide awake, I scrambled up into a sitting position and reached automatically for my beanie, which I’d taken off to sleep. I put it back on, fully aware of how freaky I looked without hair. “For real?” I asked, running my hand over the top of my head. The hat hugged it like a security blanket, soft and warm.
Cary nodded. “I can tell her you’re still asleep, if you want. Or I can just say you’re not up to having visitors, if you don’t want to see her.”
I thought about it. It must have taken Lauren a lot of nerve to show up here, after dumping me back in January. She was probably feeling bad about it, now that she knew I was sick. Facing her was going to be awkward, but it would be worse if I didn’t. I hadn’t seen her in months, not since I’d gotten my diagnosis, but I couldn’t avoid her forever. “No, it’s okay,” I finally replied. “You can send her in.”
While Cary went to get Lauren, I sat up in bed. I smoothed the wrinkles out of my t-shirt. I tugged my hat further down over my forehead. I fiddled with the covers. When I heard footsteps approaching my room, I looked up.
“Hey, Nick…” Lauren smiled shyly at me from the doorway.
My heart skipped another beat. My stomach dropped. I swallowed the hard lump that had swelled up in my throat and croaked, “Hey… come on in.”
Without even thinking about it, I patted a spot on my bed, but Lauren sank into the chair next to it instead. She sat stiffly, with her legs tight together and her hands folded in her lap. I could tell she was uncomfortable.
“How are you?” I asked first, to break the ice.
“Oh, pretty good... How are you doing?”
I snorted. “Never better.”
Sometimes I can’t help being kind of an asshole.
I watched her eyes drop and her face get red, and for a few seconds, I delighted in making her even more uncomfortable. Then I said, “Nah, I’m… alright, I guess. Getting better, anyway.”
Lauren glanced up. “Good,” she said. “I’m glad. I… I’ve been worried about you, ever since I heard. I wanted to visit you in the hospital, but I didn’t know if… I wasn’t sure if you could have visitors or anything.”
I was sure that wasn’t the only reason she hadn’t visited, but I didn’t hold it against her. “Yeah, I’m not supposed to be around a lot of people. My immune system’s still pretty weak.”
She nodded, looking down at her hands again. I watched her twist them around in her lap for a few seconds, as we fell back into awkward silence. I could tell she didn’t know what to say next, and neither did I. What are you supposed to say to the girl who dumped you right before you got cancer and then came crawling back when she found out you were sick? I was trying not to be bitter about it, not to feel sorry for myself, but it was tough. Part of me wanted to make her feel bad. The other part of me, the part that still loved her, searched for something to say that would make the situation less awkward.
I settled for changing the subject. “So,” I said, trying to sound casual, “You dating anyone these days?”
I don’t think the question did much to ease the tension. If anything, it probably made her feel even more awkward when she had to answer, “Sort of, yeah… I’ve been seeing this guy, Derrick, for a few months. He’s a bodybuilder.”
I nodded. She’d met him through one of her fitness competitions, no doubt. He was probably in better shape than I’d ever be, with or without cancer.
“How about you and Cary?” she asked. “You guys are a couple, right?”
“Yeah… She’s cool,” I said.
Lauren smiled. “She seems nice. I’m glad you’re not going through this alone.”
I thought back to the first couple of months after my diagnosis, when I’d hid it from everyone. Then I smiled back at Lauren. “Yeah, me too.”
A few seconds passed in silence. Neither of us spoke. I was messing with the edge of my sheet again when, finally, I heard Lauren say, “So… are you still bald under there?”
I looked up to see her grinning, and weirdly enough, though that question might have rattled me coming from anyone else, it actually relaxed me. It was her smile… not the polite smile she’d been forcing onto her face, but the teasing grin I loved. It reminded me of how things used to be, how comfortable we used to be around each other, how much fun we’d had together.
I smirked. “See for yourself.”
She stood up, reached over, and swiped the hat off my head. My hair hadn’t started growing back yet; I was still as bald as a baby’s butt underneath it. “Wow,” said Lauren in a low voice, running her hand over the top of my head. “It’s really smooth.”
“Wait till the hair starts coming back in; then it’ll feel like your prickly cactus legs.”
“Hey now!” she squawked, giggling. “For your information, I shaved them this morning.” And before I knew it, she’d flung one of her legs up onto my mattress, so I could feel how soft and smooth it was. Lauren had killer legs; I swallowed hard, remembering all the times I’d sat with them in my lap, rubbing her calves while we watched TV. But she seemed to realize she’d crossed a line, because she pulled her leg down quickly, before I was tempted to touch it. “You have a nice-shaped head, you know,” she said suddenly, bringing us back to the subject of my hair, or lack thereof.
“Thanks.” I let her rub my head for a few more seconds, before I jammed the hat back on. I felt exposed, almost naked without it. “I don’t think it’s a look I’ll keep, though. When my hair comes back, I’m gonna let it grow to my shoulders.”
“Nice,” she giggled, returning to her chair. Then, suddenly, her face turned serious again. “So, does that mean… I mean, are you done with your treatments, then?” she asked.
“Basically. The tough stuff, anyway. I’m still on maintenance chemo for two more years, but after everything else, that’s nothing, just a bunch of pills, really. The side effects aren’t bad, not like this.” I gestured at my head.
She nodded, back to the polite smile. “That’s good. So… the chemo and everything worked?”
“Yeah, I’m in remission. Just gotta stay that way until I’m recovered from this stupid stem cell transplant.”
“Awesome… I’m really glad to hear it, Nick. I hope you have a speedy recovery.” Before I could laugh in her face and tell her how long and slow it had been so far, she abruptly stood up. “I should get going, so you can finish your nap. Thanks for letting me visit; it was really good to see you.”
“You too,” I echoed hollowly, not sure what else to say.
She smiled and leaned in, pulling off my beanie again. Before I could protest, she bent down and kissed me, right on the top of my head. “Take care, Nick,” she whispered. Then she dropped the hat into my lap, turned, and walked out.
I watched her leave, but she didn’t look back. I knew then, somehow, that it was the last time I’d see her. I heard Cary let her out, and I waited, expecting Cary to run straight back to my room to find out what Lauren had wanted.
But she didn’t. Sweeping orchestra music was coming from the living room, so she must have still been watching Gone With the Wind. I lay back down, listening to it with my eyes closed. Even with Lauren on my mind, it only took me a few minutes to fall asleep.
***
I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke up, Gone With the Wind was still going. I wandered out to the living room, where I could hear the characters arguing with each other on the TV, and found Cary stretched out on the couch, sound asleep. Her mouth was hanging half-open, a little string of drool connecting it to the couch cushion she had tucked under one arm. I smiled at her, glad to know I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t make it through a four-hour movie.
I left her snoozing and went into my music room, which doubled as an office. I sat down at my desk, opened one of its drawers, and pulled out my songwriting notebook. I hadn’t looked at it in months, but with my thoughts still on Lauren, I opened it up and started turning the pages, skimming over the song lyrics I’d scribbled and scratched out. Some of them were still pretty bad, but I’d come a long way as a songwriter since Now or Never. Some of them were actually pretty good.
I stopped on one page in particular, a song I’d written about Lauren during a break between tours. I read the lyrics carefully, remembering how relaxed and at peace with the world I’d felt when I had written them.
I climbed the highest mountain, was on top of the world,
Then it came crashing down.
And all the fame and fortune turned to dust and dirt,
Couldn’t turn it back around.
Many days felt helpless,
Many nights full of sadness,
Maybe it’s meant to be…
The words still struck a chord in me, and soon I was singing them to myself. “I got nothing… nothing left to lose. I got freedom… but most of all, you. We could be anything we want, just let go in each other’s arms, no more lonely nights in dirty hotel rooms. We got love, and we got time, just remain on each other’s minds. We could leave it all behind and start anew, as long as I got you.”
But it was painful to sing those words, which held the memory of everything I had lost in the last year, from freedom and time to the woman I’d loved enough to put in a song. I let my voice taper off and started to turn the page, until a soft voice said, “Don’t stop.”
I jumped, startled, and looked up. Cary was leaning in the doorway, a smile on her face. “I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just heard you singing, and… well, I couldn’t help but listen in.” She offered a sheepish shrug, still smiling. “Nick, that was beautiful! The lyrics were so sweet, what I could hear of them, anyway. Will you let me read them?” She stepped into the room, looking hopeful.
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” I said, handing her the open notebook. I watched her closely as she read. Her whole face was pink and shining, a smile still playing on her lips as they mouthed my lyrics, and with a jolt to the stomach, that was when it hit me: Oh shit… She thinks the song’s about her.
Sure enough, when she looked up, she was beaming at me. “I love it,” she gushed, handing the notebook back. “Will you sing it again? I’d love to hear how the whole thing goes.”
“Um... well, to be honest…” What was I supposed to say? “…I’d rather have you hear it when it’s all done and recorded and everything,” I lied lamely.
I expected her to be disappointed, but instead, her eyes lit up. “Are you thinking of recording soon?”
I shifted in my chair. “I dunno… maybe?” That was an honest answer. The truth was, I hadn’t thought about singing in weeks, but suddenly, sitting there surrounded by my equipment, with my songbook in my lap and Cary all set to cheer me on, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. Maybe I should start working on my solo album again, as long as I was stuck here with nothing better to do. I could write while I was lying in bed, play around with my instruments when I was up and about, maybe even hit the recording studio when I felt up to it.
“You should,” said Cary encouragingly. “You need a project, something to take your mind off the misery. It’d be good for you. I mean, maybe you just hid it better before, but it seemed like you were happier when we were on tour, even on the worst chemo days.”
She was right about that. I had been happier then. I couldn’t imagine being on tour now, trying to travel and perform when I felt as drained as I did, but somehow, I had managed it then. It hadn’t been easy, but I’d made it possible. It was just a case of mind over matter. On tour was where I had wanted to be, and performing had given me something to live for, a reason to push through the pain and fight the fatigue. I couldn’t let it beat me down anymore. I had to find some way to get over this, even if it meant just working in short spurts at first, until I built up my stamina again.
I smiled up at her. “Maybe I will. God knows I’ve got enough material down in here to get started with,” I added, patting the notebook.
“Anything you’re willing to share?”
“Uh…” I turned the page and saw the lyrics to a song called “Falling Down,” which I’d written after the break-up with Lauren. I wasn’t ready to share that one with anyone yet; it was too personal and too raw. I quickly flipped back a couple of pages, landing on a snippet of a different song I’d started and never finished. It was more generic, more upbeat. It would do. “Yeah,” I said, “there’s this one… It’s not finished, though; I’ve only got one verse and a chorus.”
“That’s okay. I’d love to hear what it sounds like so far,” she replied eagerly.
“Okay… gimme a sec.” Even though this was a love song, I had always imagined it as an uptempo, with a driving drumbeat. I sat down at my drumset and put my foot on the bass drum pedal, kicking out a steady eight-count. “Here I go… uh-oh,” I sang along to that, bobbing my head in time with the beat. “Can’t get you out of my head. Blowing up… your phone… just to hear you breathing. You run away, run away… but that’s okay. Girl, we can play, make believe in this fantasy. I’ll be the king that you need, treat you like a queen. You’ll be my everything. But I won’t stop… until… you’re… mine. So just let go… and hold… on… tight. ‘Cause I’m falling in love again… I’m falling in love again… I’m falling in love again… so don’t stop, baby, ‘cause I’m falling in love again…”
I stopped drumming abruptly and looked up. “That’s all I got,” I said, shrugging.
Cary clapped her hands, looking delighted. “I love it! It’s so cute!”
I didn’t know if “cute” was really what I’d been going for, but I appreciated her enthusiasm anyway. “Thanks. Any ideas for a second verse?”
She blinked. “Really? You’re asking me?”
I laughed. “Don’t act so surprised. You’re a musician, aren’t you? You’ve written songs. Maybe you can help me write this one.” Secretly, I thought, That’ll make up for “Nothing Left to Lose.”
Cary blushed. “Well… I guess I could try,” she said doubtfully. “I don’t think I can come up with something on the spot, in front of you, though. Can I borrow your notebook so I have the lyrics you’ve got so far?”
“I’ll copy them for you,” I offered, slapping the page down onto my scanner before she could stop me. I printed her out a copy and turned her loose in the music room, while I took my notebook and guitar back to my bedroom. For the next hour, while I poured over song lyrics and played my guitar, I could hear the muffled strains of her singing, tinkering on my keyboard or strumming her ukulele to accompany herself.
I didn’t really expect much to come out of it, to be honest, but after an hour or so, I heard her holler, “Hey, Nick!”
“What’s up?” I replied, poking my head back into the music room.
“Oh good, you’re still up!” She beamed at me. “I wrote a verse! I know it’s not perfect or anything; I’m not even sure if you’ll like it,” she added quickly, “but see what you think.”
She held out a piece of paper, but I shook my head and said, “Oh no… it’s no good if I just read the words.” I grinned at her. “I heard you in here singing. C’mon, let’s hear it.”
Cary blushed again furiously, but finally, she nodded. “Well, alright… Don’t judge me too harshly, though.”
“Just sing the damn song!” I growled. She grinned.
“Alright, alright… here goes.” She picked up her ukulele and started strumming, to set her tempo and key. Then, in her soft, sweet voice, she sang a different set of lyrics to the same melody I’d sung for her earlier. “Uh-oh… Now I know it’s really happening. Staring at… his face… wondering what he’s dreaming…”
I felt myself smiling. The song sounded totally different in her voice, set to a ukulele instead of a drumbeat, but I liked it.
“I stay awake, stay awake… all night… ‘cause I’m afraid he won’t be there in the daylight. I’m so amazed, but I gotta play my cards right. Don’t wanna make the wrong move. But I won’t stop… until… you’re… mine…”
As she launched back into the chorus I’d written, I added my voice to hers. “So just let go… and hold… on… tight…”
“‘Cause I’m falling in love again…” we sang together, and I winked as she grinned at me. “I’m falling in love again… I’m falling in love again… so don’t stop, baby, ‘cause I’m falling in love again.”
“I love it,” I said, the instant she stopped strumming. “It fits perfectly. I mean, once you change the ‘his’ and ‘he’ to ‘her’ and ‘she.’”
She giggled. “Oh yeah… of course! I just sang it that way so-”
“-so I wouldn’t tease you about having lesbian fantasies?” I cut in, smirking at her. “Smart decision.”
She laughed again, her face glowing. It was nice to know that, even now, I could still make her blush. I was glad; she was always prettiest that way.
“C’mere,” I said, reaching for her hand and pulling her to me. “You know I’m gonna have to give you writing credits on my solo album now,” I said, as I wrapped my arms around her waist.
“So you’re really serious about doing it?” she asked, smiling up at me.
I nodded. “I think so. You’re right… I need a project.”
She hugged me tightly. “Good. I miss that Nick.”
“Me too,” I agreed, resting my chin on the top of her head. As I stood there, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, it occurred to me that I’d never been able to do that with Lauren – those killer legs of hers were just too long. Cary’s compact little body fit perfectly in my arms, while her words echoed in my head. That Nick…
I hadn’t felt like “that Nick” in a long time. But if anything could bring me back to my old self and make me forget I’d ever had cancer, music could. It was the reason I’d toured, and it was the motivation I needed to get going on the solo record I’d all but given up on. Music was my life, and I was ready to get that life back.
“You wanna keep playing, or are you ready for dinner?” asked Cary, when she pulled away. Before I could answer, her stomach growled loudly, letting me know which option she was hoping I’d choose.
I laughed along with her. “Dinner, definitely.” But the hunger in my belly didn’t have much to do with food.
“What do you feel like?” she asked, taking my hand and towing me into the kitchen.
The question was the same every night, and so was my answer: “I don’t care. Whatever you feel like making.” I never had much of an appetite, but she always put forth the effort to feed me, so I forced myself to eat what she cooked.
“Hm… maybe I’ll do a homemade pizza. How does that sound? And I think I slept through half of Gone With the Wind, so if you wanna try watching it again tonight, I’m game. Whatever you wanna do.”
I chuckled. “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
***
