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Before: Change of Plans


Ashley

I sat there, staring down at the page, my hands shaking. And I realized for the first time I was holding an envelope addressed to a man named Patrick Kenney of Boston, Massachusetts. "Oh my God," I gasped. My throat felt like it was closing up. "Oh my God." And once the tears started, they couldn't stop. This was my mother's version of Nick Carter. How similar our lives had been, and the fear of how similar they could become flooded me, emptying my gut, squeezing the oxygen right out of my lungs.

Nick came running into the room moments after I started crying, holding the baby monitor. I realized that he could hear me as well as we could hear Zoey when she cried and he put the monitor down on the dresser, crossing the room quickly to get to me, dropping to his knees before me, pushing the letters aside from my hands and pulling me into a hug. I pressed my face into his shoulder. "Oh God, oh my God," I sobbed over and over again as his big hands caressed my back gently.

"What is it, babe?" Nick asked.

I pulled back and picked up the letter and pushed it into his hand. He stared down at it for a moment, starting to read, then looked up, "This is the letter from your dad," he said. I nodded, "You opened it finally?" I nodded again. "Shit." He turned back to the letter, eyes widening as he read. When he got to the end he shuffled the pages and stared down at Patrick Kenney's name and the Boston address.

Nick looked up. "Jesus."

"You're Patrick," I gasped out.

"Shhh," Nick said. He put the letters down and focused on me again, "Hey, calm down, breathe baby. Breathe."

I choked on air and started coughing.

"That's the opposite of breathing," Nick joked. I choked out a laugh while he patted my back. When I'd stopped coughing, he said, "Ashley, talk to me here."

"I just... it's so similar," I said, "I'm my mother, you're Patrick, and Chris is my father, and Zoey's me and ---" I closed my eyes, tears falling down my cheeks. "I'm just so afraid Chris is going to come back. I had a dream, I dreamed he was killing Zoey. It scared me so much."

Nick shook his head, "He would have to get through me first to lay a finger on either one of you."

"I'm afraid of that, too," I sobbed. "I mean look, look right there, my father meant to kill Patrick. He meant to kill Patrick so my mother had no reason not to allow him to break her spirit. Nick, Chris has the gun. He has the gun."

"He doesn't anymore, he's in jail now," Nick said.

"But for how long?" I asked, "How long until he gets out? How long until he comes for us? How long until we're all dead." I covered my hands with my eyes. I knew I was overreacting, at least a little bit, but I couldn't stop myself, my mind was racing and my heart was slamming in my chest to boot. "All this time I thought my past would be so simple, when I finally found out who my parents were, I always dreamt that I'd go and meet them. I pictured pulling up in front of a little cape style house with a picket fence and that the pain I'd feel would be that they never wanted me to live in that house with them. I never pictured it would be like this, a mirror of my own life. I never thought I'd be reading my future by reading my past."

"This," Nick said, picking up the letters and shaking them, "This is not your future. You are not your mother, I am not Patrick. Your mother chose to go back to Henry, for one. Are you going back to Chris anytime soon?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Well there ya go, there's one. Two, Patrick was there, he was there at the house and he left and he took her no for an answer." Nick took a deep breath, "I'm here, Ashley, and I ain't going anywhere."

I nodded, my thoat aching.

Nick's eyes searched mine. "I know you wanted Chinese food and the beach sand Friday," he said, "But... I think I have a better idea." He held up the envelope addressed to Patrick Kenney.

"What?" I asked.

"Let's go meet Patrick."

I felt a wave of nausea and excitement run through me.




Nick

The next morning, after calling and talking to AJ and Rochelle, Ashley and I ordered plane tickets to Boston and booked a hotel for Friday night.

I was just finishing printing the confirmation slips and everything for the flight when Brian arrived. He had flowers for Ashley and a teddy bear for Zoey. Ashley was about to go wake Zoey up when Brian told her not to, that he'd peek in on her sleeping and we all crowded around the crib and Brian's eyes went all big and gooey as we watched her sleeping. He stuck his teddy bear present into the crib, and we all piled back into the hallway. "Ohmygosh, she's adorable," Brian said, grinning ear-to-ear. "Baby girls are so much more adorable than baby boys, by principle," he added.

We headed into the kitchen and Ashley put the flowers Brian had brought her into a vase. I picked up the thick manilla envelope Brian and I would be delivering. "Hurry back boys," Ashley said as we started heading for the door, "I'm gonna make lunch when you get back and I'm sure Zoey will be awake so she can meet Uncle Brian then." She smiled. I could tell she was profoundly nervous about Brian and I going to see Chris, but she kept a brave game face on.

I hugged her, "Text me or call me if you need anything." I kissed her forehead.

"Love you baby," she said.

"Love you," I replied.

After our mushy good-byes, Brian and I headed out to the car. Brian had the envelope with the forms and I climbed behind the driver's seat. At first, there was a really awkward silence that hung between Brian and I. We'd been on unsettled ground for quite awhile, I barely had a clue what was going on in his life these days, and me leaving the Backstreet Boys hadn't helped at all. Now, I wasn't sure what to say to the guy. He clearly wasn't sure what to say to me, either. At least that's what I thought. Until he exploded with words.

"I'm really happy for you. I feel like I should've been here more for you, like I let you down, but I'm glad you got it all together, without my help and everything. I wish I'd been more a part of everything that you've been through these last couple years. I'm a terrible friend, and I have to admit that this is the least I could do for you. I was so absorbed in my own world, and my own problems, I ignored you and Ashley and the plane crash and everything, and you're a good guy, Nick. You've changed from who you were Christmas two years ago, talking about Holiday Hos and everything like that. Nick, what I'm trying to say is that I'm proud of you." He took the first breath since beginning speaking here and looked straight ahead as we idled at a red light in downtown Los Angeles, hugging Ashley's annullment forms to his chest.

"Thanks Frick," I replied.

Brian looked over and smiled, "I'm still your Frick?"

"You'll always be my Frick, man," I replied.

Brian leaned back in the seat, now that the awkward silence was over, it was easier to get comfortable. He looked over at me, the envelope now laying across his lap. "Ashley looked happy."

"Yeah?" I glanced at him as the light turned green, and turned forward again to watch the road. "You really think so?"

"Nick, she's been waiting for years for you to come around," Brian replied. "Years, Frack."

It was nice being Frack again.

"Thanks for doing this," I said, waving my hand at the papers on his lap. "I can't exactly marry her 'til this thing is annulled and all..."

Brian lit up. "You're getting married?"

"I haven't officially proposed yet, but I asked her before one night and she said she'll say yes when I do ask," I said.

Brian smiled. "Good for you, Nick."

"It's weird being all like focused on one girl," I said.

Brian laughed, "It's weirder not being focused on one girl," he replied.

"Are you dating?" I asked.

Brian laughed again, "Oh Nick, I haven't dated since 1996. I feel so awkward even trying. Man, I signed up for Match.com."

"You whaaat?" I cracked up, "Brian, you're a fluffin' Backstreet Boy!"

"Fluffin?"

"Baby code word for fuck." It's funny, I now felt dirty saying the real word.

Brian snorted. Then, "And what's being a Backstreet Boy got to do with me signing up for Match.com? I have issues meeting girls, that's what the service is for."

"What in hell did you put up for your member profile?" I asked.

"You know. Desperate multimillion dollar musician seeks hot woman with big breasts," Brian joked. "I just put in that I'm in the entertainment industry, that's all."

"Got any replies yet?" I asked.

"I got one from management telling me to take down the page because I was posing," he replied.

I thought I was gonna die. I laughed so hard my face hurt. We continued talking about Brian's trials and tribulations, including the barrage of crazy fans who had been propositioning him on Twitter following the announcement of the break-up, until we arrived to the prison where Chris was being detained.

I parked the car and reached for the handle of the door. Brian shook his head, "You stay here."

"Don't you want me for moral support?"

"I'll be fine. And I think you'll be better off waiting here."

"Okay."

Brian got out. He leaned back in and grabbed the envelope off the dashboard. "Hey," I said, "Tell him I hope a big guy named Bubba makes him his bitty and fluffs him 'til his tushie aches."

Brian laughed, "I'll send him your regards."

I saluted Brian and watched as he walked across the parking lot. When Brian had disappeared into the prison's front doors, I reached for the radio dial and turned on some music, leaning back against the seat. I closed my eyes and waited.

It wasn't even fifteen minutes later and the passenger door opened.

"Did you give him the papers then?" I asked, opening my eyes and looking over.

Brian still had the annullment forms in his hands. He swallowed and looked over at me. "So... Nick... Change of plans," he said.

"What? Why didn't you give him the forms? Brian, I knew I shouldda gone in with you..."

"Nick, he's not here."

"What?"

"They released him this morning."