- Eye Of The Storm
She watched him apprehensively. It had been a long while since she’d seen him in such a good mood.
“Aha! It’s my turn! You’re dead!” Nick warned excitedly and pointed his finger dramatically at Baylee. “Say goodbye to your parents, little boy!”
In a theatrical motion, he rolled the dice of the Monopoly game and she heard Baylee heave a sigh of relief.
“How did you kill me again?” he mocked and Nick stuck his tongue out.
“These things are broken,” he pouted, looking at the dice. “Bri, it’s your turn, bud.”
Brian painfully sat upright and Leighanne could easily read the exhaustion in his eyes. “Why don’t you get some rest honey, I’ll take over your part, alright?’’
At first it seemed like he was going to protest, but he just got up slowly, kissed her head, mumbled something, and walked away stiffly. She watched him leave, her heart pounding in her chest, and swallowed thickly. Fearfully, she looked at Nick, but the Backstreet Boy didn’t seem to have heard what Brian had said. The two had gotten home rather early and this time, the depressed mood that usually followed after a round of chemo non-existent, and Nick had told them all about the news they had gotten at the hospital. She’d noticed Brian keeping himself on the background and she’d realized why when Nick mentioned the unpleasant consequences of the new treatment. Brian was quick to asure them that there were still three weeks left ‘til the start of the chemo’s and that at least he and Nick had faith that it was going to work.
She wasn’t so sure.
She’d heard what he’d muttered so quietly, only she could hear.
We need to talk.
When she looked up she saw Baylee looking suspiciously at her and she raised her eyebrows questioningly. Finally he stood up, commenting he wasn’t gonna play anymore if Dad wasn’t going to, and he looked at her as if it were her fault that he left in the first place. This had to stop. She was tired of Baylee treating her like she was evil personified. Yes, she made a mistake, a big one, but she was still his mother, wasn’t she?
She noticed Nick getting up to, not knowing how to play a monopoly game on his own, but before he could walk away, she stopped him.
“He wants to talk!” she announced fearfully.
“About what?”
“Hell if I know!” she said, frustrated, “he doesn’t know anything, does he?”
“I don’t think so,” Nick replied cryptically.
“What do you mean, you don’t think so?”
“Well, he did seem suspicious,” Nick mused, “He thought you and me had it going on…”
“What?” she exclaimed incredulously.
“I know right! Can you imagine…” he laughed, “maybe that’s what he wants to talk about.”
“Yeah, maybe…” she wondered.
April 1998
When he’d finally come back to the hotel room after the show, he was absolutely exhausted and she’d decided that enough was enough. Something needed to be done about this ridiculous business, and she knew exactly what to do to make him give in.
“Brian, we need to talk,” she announced forcibly.
“Can we talk tomorrow, I’m kinda tired,” he informed and walked straight to the bed, where he let himself fall with his face into the pillows. “God, I’m fried.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” she let him know.
He didn’t answer and from the looks of it, he seemed to have fallen asleep already.
“Brian?”
“I’m listening,” he commented, his voice muffled in the pluche cushions
“Can you look at me when I’m talking to you,” she questioned, irritated. She’d only known him for not even a year, but she already knew she loved him with whole her heart, but the problem with him lately was that she was feeling like she had to act like his mother, rather than his lover. Sure, he could be serious at points, but never when she needed him to be. Maybe it shouldn’t bother her so much, he was six years younger than her after all, but sometimes she wished he would just grow up a little.
He pretended like he didn’t hear her and she sighed, knowing very well that he wouldn’t like what she was about to tell him. They’d had ‘fights’ about it before, though she didn’t really like to qualify them as ‘fights’, because ‘fights’ required more than her talking and him ignoring her. Most of the time she doubted that anything she said even got through to him. Taking a deep breath, she decided to just go for it.
“I was just wondering what you were gonna do when they make you reschedule again.” she rambled all at once. Brian didn’t move and just when she thought he’d decided to ignore her again, he lifted his head and rolled on his back, staring angrily at her.
“I dunno,” was all he had to offer and it made her blood boil. She was worried about him and she knew, that deep down, he was worried too. He had to be.
“Didn’t you hear the doctor?” she questioned incredulously.
“Yes.” He wasn’t all that talkative lately.
“They can’t make you reschedule again, Brian!”
“Don’t worry.”
“Look, I get why you’re scared…”
“I’m not scared!” he interrupted so harshly that he couldn’t be anything but.
“But you gotta consider what the doctor said! I don’t wanna have to wait ‘til you finally collapse on stage or something.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“Am I?”
“It’s fine. I feel fine.”
“Of course you do. Have you ever wondered why you always feel so exhausted after a show?” she asked and noticed him looking down, avoiding eye-contact. “No? It’s because your heart has to work a hell of a lot harder because it’s two times its normal size!” She had printed the doctor’s words in her head and was spewing them at him, because he just had to realize that this wasn’t normal.
“So? I’ll live…” he mumbled, still looking at the ground. She stared at him, incredulously.
“Fine!” she stated resolutely, making up her mind, she took a deep breath, “Kill yourself, I don’t care anymore. If you think this music group is more important than your health, it’s not worth it.”
“What do you mean?” This time he did look up.
“I’ll give you a choice. You can have me, the surgery, and your health back, or you’ll stay sick, reschedule it endlessly, and work yourself to death. See for yourself.” She took a shaky breath, realizing she’d just spoken one of her fears of the past six months out loud.
“It’s not that simple,” he grumbled.
“It doesn’t get simpler than that. Do you want me to spell it out? If you let them reschedule the heart surgery again, I’m leaving you.”
November 2015
He put his head on her shoulder and sighed. She could tell he was troubled but didn’t dare asking him about it, already knowing the dreaded answer. He is fine, he is always fine, even when he’s not. Would it be hypocrite to finally long for the truth?
She’d thought he wanted to talk. She’d been too nervous at first, because it seemed like months since they’d really talked. When she’d found enough courage to go upstairs though, she’d found him just sitting there on the bed, staring straight ahead with that lost look as if he were some abandoned puppy she’d found in the streets. She’d come to sit next to him and they hadn’t moved or said a word ever since. At one point she’d just assumed he’d fallen asleep, until she felt him shift slightly, pull his head up again and stare at the ground.
“I don’t know what to do,” he mumbled quietly.
Leighanne didn’t answer for a while and the heavy silence returned. Eventually she just shrugged, “Me neither,” she admitted. “I guess we just have to… you know… go on…” She cringed inwardly, feeling like it was the worst advice she’d ever given him.
He looked at her with a slight smile and scoffed quietly, “Sounds like a plan,” he concluded.
“Brian?”
“Hmm?”
“I thought you wanted to talk?” She’d never been a really patient person and neither had he.
“I did?” he asked surprised. Of course…
“Yeah, you…” she started, then changed her mind, “never mind, I’m sure it was nothing.”
“Probably.”
He frowned suddenly, grimacing, and then put his head back on her shoulder. For a while it was silent again, and this time Leighanne was sure he’d fallen asleep right there. Moving cautiously, she shifted slightly and pulled her husband towards the pillows on the bed. It wasn’t that hard to do, considering he couldn’t weigh much more than 120 pounds, but she was a small woman, so it took some time. She jumped when he grasped her hand just as she was trying to cover him up.
“W-wait, don leave me,” he called out hoarsely.
She knew she was the only other person in the room, but still she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her. His eyes were unfocused and darting all over the place.
“It’s alright sweetie, I’m not going anywhere,’’ she tried to assure, but it didn’t calm him down in the least, it only made him more agitated.
“Why’s it so dark in here?” he demanded and she frowned, considering it was still daytime and although the room was darkened, it was still flooded with light.
“It’s not, baby,’’ she told him and stepped back, studying him. His eyes were wide open, but he didn’t seem able to see much. He had started to shake and she grabbed his hands to steady him. He whimpered timidly.
“W-wait, don leave me.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Why’s it so dark in here?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to turn on the lights?” she whispered softly.
He winced at the thought, “No. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave.”
“I’m not leaving. Why do you think that?”
He shook his head vigorously, “I wanna go home.”
She nodded sadly, realizing that it was no use replying him. She had no idea where exactly he thought he was in his head, but it certainly wasn’t here and now. It happened way too often lately. Getting up slowly, she squeezed his hands and let go.
“No! Don’t leave!” he screamed out suddenly, but she didn’t listen to his anxious cry. Feeling the tears well up and pour over, she stepped out of the room quickly. She couldn’t do this, it was too much and she wasn’t strong enough. He’d wanted to talk, but she’d realized very soon that he was in no state to talk, he was in no state to do anything, and she didn’t know how to handle it. Tomorrow he’d remember why he’d wanted to talk, but until then, she wished she could just call Larry…
