Well, surprise, surprise. I've gotten several e-mails of late asking if the story was continuing, and as promised, now that "Brian & Me" is over, here's the latest chapter. It's been complete since at least some time in January, if memory serves. On the plus side, the subsequent chapter is complete as well, and I'll post it in one week. After that, I don't have any more chapters done right now, and for those who don't know me that well, it's pretty incredible that I've managed to get the first sentence written with the way my job has been of late. Translation: I'll get Chapter 24 out next week, but I haven't even got a guess as to when 25 will be out. I assure you, I won't make you wait nearly this long for it. Thanks to everyone for their patient with both me and DLS.
I actually will keep the preamble short tonight for me (it's actually very early in the morning, and I'm about to head to the hospital now). As a personal thanks, thanks again to everyone for their patience, and thanks again for spending part of your time reading something that I'm still dumbfounded by the fact that you would want to. I enjoy the story, and I hope you do and will continue to do so. Please, drop me a line to let me know how I'm doing and what you think at the address below.
Thanks to all the important people :). You all know how much you mean to me. I would be remiss if I didn't send a special shout out, however, to my boys--Kiddo for being such a sweet, wonderful human being, and Big Sexy for being such an incredible friend and bringing a smile to my face lately on days that I've really needed it. I don't think anyone else could have done it. I love you guys.
And, of course, a special thanks to DLS, who not only lent his writing talents to a huge chunk of this chapter (if you don't like any part of this chapter, that was the part he wrote :) but has and continues to give me his love and support. Throughout it all, never doubt that I love you. SHMILY.
Legal crap: Do I really need to tell you if you're not supposed to be here? Refer back to my earlier chapters if you need help figuring it out.
Finally, I love you, Joshua, with all my heart.
"Search and Rescue" by Matt Hunter Chapter 23
"What are you doing here?" Justin asked him.
The look of utter confusion on JC's face gave way to some kind of misguided rage. "I have to go."
I started after him when the receptionist announced, "The board will see you now, Mr. Hunter."
Justin turned to me. "Do you need me to go in with you, or do you want me to go after him?"
"Go," I told him. "I'll be fine." As Justin ran after him, I seriously deliberated the truthfulness of my answer. Sure, I was worried about the board, but that wasn't it at all. No amount of steeling myself prepared me for seeing him again. Looking into his eyes, I wanted nothing more than to be with him just one more time. Realizing that this was hardly the time for taking an E-ticket ride on an emotional roller coaster, I clinched my fists tightly and walked into the room.
From the minute I got through the door, I was absolutely certain I could relate to convicts appearing before a judge and jury. Several of my peers were seated behind a large table at the front of the room, and I knew that in a matter of moments, my career--hell, my fate--would be determined by what passed their lips. None of them had a poker face to speak of. It was painfully obvious that they had already made their decision. The only one who wasn't in on this joke was me.
"Have a seat, Mr. Hunter," one middle-aged brunette woman told me as she pulled her chain-suspended glasses from her neck and replaced them on her face. "These are very serious allegations against you. You have been found to show blatant disregard for the Nurse Practice Act of this state, which is the foundation of everything we do. You have exceeded your legal, if not your intellectual, limitations on several occasions, the latest of which was performing a risky surgical procedure in non-sterile conditions in direct contradiction to your medical director."
"The situation called for . . . , " I began.
"I'm not finished, Mr. Hunter," she cut in. "You may speak when you are told to do so. Is that understood?"
I nodded silently as she continued. "While we are aware of your medical history and have weighed that carefully, your reckless behavior has, on multiple occasions, jeopardized the safety and well-being of not only yourself but your patient as well, and that is inexcusable."
She placed the folder on the table before her and said nothing as she thumbed through its contents. She looked over the rim of her frames and nodded an unspoken cue to begin with my defense.
"May I speak?" I asked, suddenly both terrified at the likely outcome and enraged at their circumvention of my side of things.
"You may," she responded, but before I could start, she amended her statement, "but it's hardly necessary. This board has made its decision."
"I see," I said despondently.
"First, let me begin by saying that we do not condone your actions. Though your intent may be well-meaning, simply put, we cannot have our nurses running around half-cocked doing what they think is right when it is not within their capabilities to do so."
I nodded sullenly and turned my eyes to the floor.
"We have reviewed the detailed reports of all the incidents in question. We have taken into account both your medical history and the glowing recommendations by your Director of Nursing, the self-same Medical Director who was present when your license was suspended, and Dr. Robert North, who has, along with his wife, been an ardent supporter of nurses in general and this body in particular. Though, to be perfectly frank, I don't think any of us here would even begin to reinstate your license on that basis alone."
My shoulders slumped, and I turned towards the door.
"As I said, Mr. Hunter, that, in and of itself, would not have given us pause. However, that's not true with the added testimony we just received from Mr. Chasez. He can be something of a compelling speaker, in case you were not aware, particularly when he believes so strongly in something. He told us what happened from his perspective, your actions, and his ardent beliefs that both he and a Mr. Timberlake would now be dead were it not for your interventions. If I didn't know better, Mr. Hunter, I would swear that his undertones insinuated that he would even bring suit against the Tennessee Board of Nursing for wrongful dismissal. While his threats, if I construed them correctly, did not impact the decision of this body, his accountings of your behavior did. Combined with the aforementioned information, this board would be remiss in letting the nursing profession lose a nurse of your caliber."
One of the other nurses cut in. "Therefore, Mr. Hunter, it is the recommendation of this body that your nursing license be returned to you immediately and without restriction, but if further infractions occur, there will be no more second chances. You are free to go."
With that, they stunned me to complete silence and left me alone in the room just staring blankly into space. I wasn't even marginally aware when Justin entered the room. He carefully walked up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"I caught him, but he brushed me off. What happened?"
"I'm still a nurse," I responded, dumbfounded.
"Congratulations!" he shouted as he bear-hugged me and lifted me off my feet.
Justin finally had to go back on the road, and with the girls back at school, I felt utterly alone. The first few nights, I would just sit in the den, on the floor in front of the television, and cry myself to sleep. I'd gotten used to Curly lying in the bed next to me until I'd fall asleep. I hadn't realized just how much he'd come to mean to me. Of course, that was hardly a new revelation, not truly missing something until it was gone.
I threw myself back into my work, but I still felt hollow inside. Kathy was over all the time, I called and talked to the girls practically every night, and Nicky, Andy, and the guys were either on my phone, in my e-mail, or on my doorstep 24/7. The only time I felt halfway normal was when Jeff brought Alyssa for a visit. Harkening back to my earlier days, it seemed so much simpler. Ultimately, however, it was only a temporary reprieve for the emptiness.
During one such episode, I made the decision to call the only other person in the world who could possibly relate to such a bizarre set of circumstances. I hesitated, because he and I weren't all that close, but I knew from Kevin that at least at the moment, it didn't seem like he was that close to anybody.
Deliberating the decision one last time, I picked up the phone and dialed the number staring at me from my day planner. Someone picked up, but no answer came.
"Nate?" I asked uncertainly.
"Yeah," he said simply.
"Nate, it's Matt."
"Oh, hi, Matt. How are you?" he asked, almost absentmindedly, as though it were some obligatory task.
"Okay, I guess," I lied through my teeth. He half-chuckled into the receiver but said nothing. "That convincing?" I almost laughed.
"You could say that. What's up?"
I felt almost ashamed of my answer, so I descended into small talk. "Just thought I should call and see how things are going. Except for a few e-mails and occasional phone call, you and I haven't talked much since . . . ."
He exhaled sharply before proceeding. "It's okay, Matt. You can say it. Since Brian and I broke up."
"Yeah," I responded barely audibly.
"Did Kevin put you up to this?" he demanded accusingly.
"No!" I said instantly.
"Then why are you calling? For Brian?"
"No," I answered as my shoulders fell. "For me."
He seemed taken aback by my answer. "Sorry," he whispered. "Guess I stay on the defensive these days."
"It's alright," I assured him. "Actually, this call is kinda selfish." He said nothing, but I could visualize that one eyebrow cocking in curiosity. "I needed to talk to somebody."
I could even hear his silent realization. "So what happened with you and JC?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Nothing wrong with your powers of observation."
"So what's wrong?" he asked.
"I don't know," I answered honestly as the tears began to come.
"Why don't we start at the beginning?" he suggested.
I nodded, almost expecting him to see that, then embarrassed when I realized my foolishness, and even more embarrassed when I realized that he probably knew I was doing it anyway. The sheer inanity of it all made me truly laugh. It was something I hadn't done in weeks.
"Things really that messed up?"
"Yeah," I admitted, "though I don't know if it's just the situation or me. I guess I was looking for a sympathetic ear. God!" I chided myself. "It's only been a few weeks. Have I really fallen apart that fast. Looking back, it seems like an eternity."
"Well, speaking for the voice of experience, I'd say that's normal."
"Well, as the voice of experience," I began, "when will my life be?"
"I'll let you know as soon as mine is," he answered sullenly and almost oblivious to the fact that he said it aloud. Jerking back to reality, "So, do I have to fill in the blanks, or are you gonna tell me what's going on?"
"Sorry," I half-smiled before even that little bit of levity left me. "I guess it started just after Christmas. I joined the guys in Hawaii."
"Sounds good so far. I never made it there with . . . sorry, go on."
Even in my self-pity, I could still hear so much hurt there. I suddenly felt very, very guilty for not being there more than I was. In retrospect, however, I wasn't sure how much he would have talked to me before now. Knowing how close I am to Kevin, it probably wouldn't have been nearly as comforting as he was to me right now. I hesitated before proceeding, but I continued onward when it dawned on me that his words made it abundantly clear that he didn't want to talk about it, even after all this time.
"Everything seemed so perfect. Justin and Lance had gone through a lot of trouble to give us some alone time."
"Okay . . . ," he said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Then came Bobbie," I almost spat.
"Your doctor?" he asked, trying to keep up.
I realized where his confusion came from and what he bizarre scenarios were running through his head. I just laughed, "I should be so lucky. Bobbie is a she and more to the point, she's an ex." I could hear him cringe. "Things weren't exactly the greatest while she was there, but I really thought we were passed that."
"If you don't stop pausing in this story, I'm gonna have to kill you," he half-laughed, making me laugh, too, which was good, considering what was coming.
"We came home," I began, the smile completely absent from my face, "and one morning, I woke up to find a `Dear John' letter, saying that he made a mistake."
"I'm sorry, Matt," Nate said, quite obviously lacking something better to say.
"Me, too," I replied, a single tear cascading down my cheek. In my idiotic embarrassment, I turned my head as though I were hiding something from him.
"No further explanation? No nothing?"
"That's it," I answered, "and aside from a brief encounter at the board of nursing where I got exactly one sentence out of him, I haven't seen or heard from him since."
"What was he doing at your hearing?" he asked blankly.
"Apparently," I told him, "he came to speak on my behalf."
"Something's off there," Nate commented. "His behaviour's not consistent."
"Well, he's been consistent about one thing, he doesn't want me in his life," I said tearfully.
Nate was silent for a moment. "I don't even begin to know what to say."
"You can tell me that it will get easier," I almost pleaded.
"I'd love to," he answered, but his silence said even more.
"But you can't, can you?" I interpreted from what he didn't say.
"No, Matt, I can't," he said flatly.
"How have you done it, Nate? I know you left Brian for your own reasons, even though it's painfully obvious to me that you still love him."
"I had to, Matt. I just had to," he said in a voice that seemed to be filled with tears that wouldn`t come.
"Have you been like this ever since?" I asked him.
"I'm fine," he lied unconvincingly.
"Nate, I'm so sorry. Here I am expecting you to have answers that will help me, and I haven't exactly been there to help you."
"It's okay, Matt. Trust me, it wouldn't have helped anyway." He continued, "I haven't exactly been the best company these last four months."
A thought suddenly occurred to me. "I've got an idea."
"What's that?"
"I need some company, and by the sounds of things, so do you. My next stretch at work doesn't start for another week. You wanna come down?"
"You got your license back?"
"Oh, yeah," I answered, absentmindedly thinking what a backseat my career had taken in everything lately, including this conversation.
"Congratulations, but I don't really feel up to traveling right now."
"Come on. Misery loves company," I tried to smile.
"Be that as it may," he explained, "I've still got a lot of work ahead of me on this book. Can I take a rain check?"
"Anytime," I told him, trying not to convey my disappointment.
"It's been good talking to you, Matt. I need to get going now," he said, not concealing the fact that he wanted to change the subject very well. "I'll call you later, eh?"
"Sure," I told him, bidding an unwelcome greeting to the dial tone that was now my only solace. "Sure," I repeated quietly to myself. I returned the phone to its cradle in the bedroom. I pulled the covers of the bed up over my head to shut out the world. What difference did it really make if it was the middle of the day?
The next two days quickly became more of the same. I didn't really want to face the world. Curly was on tour. Nicky, Andy, and the guys were on tour.
The girls were in school. Kathy was at work. I had the next week off. It was now official . . . I was alone. After one day where I didn't even get out of bed, I finally got up sometime just after noon and went into the kitchen. I was fixing a sandwich, and with the way my luck was holding, it came as no great shock to me when I sliced my hand wide open trying to carve some of the unused Christmas ham I didn't cook until after I got back.
Deciding I wasn't all that hungry anyway, I just shook my head in disbelief in hurled the knife into the wall. I tossed my now blood-covered sandwich into the garbage and went to the bathroom for some Kerlix to wrap my hand with. I decided to belay that and grab a shower first, hoping it would make me feel a little better.
It didn't. I wrapped the towel around my waist after drying off as much as I cared to, and I finally got around to wrapping my hand after just staring into the mirror vacantly for some indiscernible amount of time. I forced myself to shave, but by the time I was through with that, I didn't even feel like getting dressed.
I sat on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands and the room pitch black. Feebly attempting to shake it off, I decided to go out and get the last two or three newspapers from the porch. When I opened the door, there stood Nate, suitcase in hand, apparently deliberating whether or not to knock. I stared at him in disbelief, and as he noticed my attire or lack thereof, he half-smiled, "You said `anytime.'"
Snapping to, I pulled him into a hug that seemed rather one-sided. Taking the cue, I pulled him inside. "Yeah, I guess I did at that," I smiled.
Even with the awkwardness, it was good to see him. I took his suitcase to one of the bedrooms, and when I returned, he was still standing there, having made no attempt to make himself at home or more comfortable or whatever. I urged him over to the couch, but there was a distance between us that our proximity had only begun to symbolize. He was as far away from me on the couch as he could be and still be on the couch.
"How was your flight?" I asked him, wanting very much to have some better icebreaker.
"I got some work done. Slept a bit," he answered succinctly.
"That's good," I commented, trying vainly to keep the conversation "flowing," for lack of more descript terminology. "Do you want something to eat? I've got some stuff for ham sandwiches in the kitchen, but you may wanna slice your own ham," I laughed, holding up my hand.
"I grabbed something at the airport, thanks," he replied almost absentmindedly, then, "How'd you manage that?"
"My head was somewhere else, I guess," I tried to smile--failing--instead opting to turn my head uncomfortably.
"This was a mistake, wasn't it? I shouldn't have come. Should have called ahead, at least."
"What? Of course not. Don't be ridiculous." I responded rapidly. Realizing that I was overcompensating, "I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't want you here. I'm really glad you came."
"Give it a couple of days. You might change your mind."
It took no rocket scientist to realize that he already had. I cocked the corner of my mouth in a half-smile as I tried to laugh, "Somehow, I doubt it, but considering what a wreck I am right now, you may want to run screaming out of here."
He gave me a rueful smile. "I don't think you need to worry about bringing me down, Matt."
I smiled sympathetically. "I guess the next question is what can we do to bring both of us up?"
"After this long, your guess is as good as mine."
"Red alert," a voice screamed in my head. A change of topic was definitely in order. I latched onto the only other thing that came to mind, pathetic as it was. "So how's Carrie?"
It was pretty obvious that Nate appreciated the change in topic, even to the point of almost smiling. "Pushing pretty hard for the book to get done."
"I know you never show anybody a work in progress, but mind if I'm nosy enough to ask how it's going?"
Nate made some kind of futile gesture with his hand. "It goes. It doesn't seem as eager to get out of my head as it used to be. Longer hours on it for fewer pages. I guess `frustrating' is a good word for it."
"It's a good word for a good many things," I actually managed to smile. "But at least it's something to throw ourselves into. I'd honestly forgotten how much I missed doing what I do."
"I can imagine. At least I've got something that no one can take away from me, right? They can stop buying the books, but I still get to write them." He paused before continuing, "Though there have been days when I'd like to toss the whole thing."
I half-chuckled to myself. "I can relate to that feeling myself. I came very close to someone taking away what I love to do. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that they could stop me from practicing, but they couldn't take away what it is that makes me a nurse. Funny," it occurred to me, "doing what I love to do is what got me in this mess in the first place."
He offered a sad smile. "Me, too. First, an essay, then the first book."
"How far we've come," I commented, silently adding, "or have we?"
"How far we went."
Sadly, the resounding truthfulness in his words echoed long after they passed his lips. "Yeah," I muttered silently. If we didn't get off the subject and stay off of it, we were gonna quickly go insane. "So? Anything you'd like to do while you're here?"
He bit his bottom lip and gave me a solemn look. "Nothing we did last time."
"No arguments from me," I assured him. "Any suggestions?"
"I don't know what you've got, really. Graceland was the only Memphis landmark I knew, remember?"
"True enough," I smiled. "Sadly, at the moment, I'm not faring too much better in thinking of something."
"I'm much better at giving fake people a life than I am with real ones, I guess," he genuinely smiled.
It felt good to actually laugh. "At least you have an active life, even if it only keeps the voices in your head occupied. Even my imagination is dull."
"Can't be too dull, if it kept you preoccupied enough to do that to your hand."
The smile quickly vanished from my face. "Just clumsy, I guess."
"Clumsiness I understand. Though for me, it's mental. I'm just stumbling my way through the pages most of the time lately. Hopefully, I manage to find something worth keeping when I'm done with it."
"Mine's completely physical. If I don't keep moving, I feel like I'm gonna beat my head against a wall or something. That's why work's been such a saving grace. Giving somebody else a chance at something worth keeping, namely life, prevents me from dwelling on my lack of one."
Nate chuckled, "I do the same thing, only the people I give life to are in my head, and they aren't doing a very good job of thanking me for the favour lately."
"Ungrateful bastards," I forced myself to smile. "I say we catch a flick or something and let them fend for themselves for a while."
"I guess they can wait. Might make them more cooperative when I do start paying attention to them again. You might wanna get dressed first, though."
Looking down, I had to blush. I couldn't believe we'd carried on this whole conversation with me wearing nothing but a towel. "Might be a good idea at that. Lemme grab some clothes."
"I'll be here," he said simply.
I started for the bedrooms, pausing to yell over my shoulder. "So what are you in the mood for?"
"Death! Lots of death!"
I paused in my tracks, uncertain of whether to laugh or shudder. It was the way he said it. Shaking it off, I shut the bedroom door behind me. I pulled open my sock drawer, and the first thing I saw was the pair of boxers I'd bought for JC in Victoria's Secret. I brushed my fingers across them, laughing to myself when I thought how much he'd complained about them. He preferred boxer-briefs. They'd all gotten used to wearing them when they performed, and he liked the "support."
The smile turned to a grimace, and I slammed the drawer shut, catching my fingers in the process. I said nothing, instead just shaking my hand in that useless way we all do when we do things like that.
I went to the closet and grabbed some jeans. When I tried to fasten them, they fit just a little too snuggly, and when I realized it, it dawned on me that they, too, were his. "DAMMIT!" I screamed to myself. "You won't even let me forget you," I silently cursed him. I wadded the jeans up into a ball and tossed them into the garbage. I withdrew a set of cargo pants and a sweater that the girls had given me for Christmas. I put my shoes on without socks, just because I was too scared to open that drawer again.
I mentally scolded myself and put on my best fake smile before returning to the living room. I looked out onto the deck to see Nate lighting a cigarette. I walked out beside him and took a cigarette, just as he was about to put the pack away. He offered the burning flame, and I lit mine in turn. "I thought I was the only one who smoked when something's bothering me."
"Looks like we're going to have to stop and get some more. I meant to get some more at the airport and forgot about it."
"Probably a wise move," I almost managed to smile. "I get the distinct impression we may need them."
Nate just chuckled. "This one might see me through to tomorrow, but I don't know what you're going to do without stopping."
"Point taken," I smiled. "Glad to know Phillip Morris and R.J. Reynolds have nothing to worry about as long as there are relationships-gone-bad."
He snapped the lighter closed and shoved it in his pocket. "Yeah."
Devoid of anything further to say, we wordlessly walked outside to the car, pausing just long enough to pick up the paper I'd started for hours ago. I turned to the "Playbook" section and started reading off the newer releases.
"Well, Supernova' and The Hurricane' came out today," I offered.
"Never heard of Supernova, and never been much of a fan of prison stories."
"So much for gay stereotypes," I chuckled. "Last week, Magnolia' came out. I think it's safe to exclude Fantasia 2000.'"
"I think so, yeah. What's Magnolia about?"
"Not a clue. The only thing I've seen about it are those bizarre trailers."
"I don't watch a lot of TV these days. You can never go wrong with bizarre though, right?"
I just scrunched my face and said nothing. I handed him the paper and told him, "You pick. I'll drive."
"Deal. It'll give me a distraction."
"My driving isn't that bad," I laughed.
"Tell it to the judge."
I rolled my eyes at him. "Everybody's a critic. Do you wanna drive?"
"You know the way. Besides, I have the paper to cover my eyes with."
"Great!" I chuckled. "The ostrich routine. That's fine. Bury your head in the sand."
"Get in the car, hillbilly!"
"You got it, Eskimo," I laughed, climbing into the driver's seat.
"Inuit," he corrected almost distractedly, as if by reflex, while climbing into the car.
"You bring whole new meanings to the word `anal,'" I told him
"No comment," he grinned.
We sat there waiting on our food, and I couldn't help but laugh, though the reason was lost on Nate.
"What's so funny?"
"Either I lack the requisite intellect, attention span, or some combination thereof to get that movie. I couldn't tell you a single thing that happened." I flashed him a grin. "Seven bucks well spent, huh?"
He smiled back. "I remember it raining frogs. Don't remember why, exactly. I don't really remember a plot, to be honest."
"I don't really remember a movie," I laughed. "Of course, that may have something to do with falling asleep during it. Next time, I pick the movie."
"I might have dozed off myself. Maybe that's why I never had a clue what was going on."
"Maybe you're just clueless," I offered gleefully.
"If anyone would know the warning signs," he grinned as he pulled out the cigarettes.
"I know the movie was bad," I smiled, "but nicotine-worthy?"
"Sorry," he apologized as he started to put it out. "It just . . . helps."
"I know a few hundred thousand cancer patients who'd argue that point with you," I smiled ruefully. "But who am I to criticize?"
"When you find something that works, stick with it," he said flatly as he took a long drag.
"I'll bear that in mind when I find something."
He passed me the pack. "At least it keeps your head clearer than getting drunk, and once you get going, it's practically hands-free."
I took a cigarette and the lighter from his outstretched hand. "Maybe, but the latter sounds better at this moment. I think I see a detour on the way home in our immediate future."
He smiled at me. "I've done my writing for the day."
"Suddenly, I'm not all that hungry," I grinned. "I think I'll go home and drink my dinner."
"Doggy bag?"
"I'll refrain from the comment and just settle on `good idea' instead," I chuckled.
He smiled, "Sounds like a plan."
Somehow, I decided, the alcohol only made things worse. I was mad as hell now. I wanted to tell JC that he hurt me worse than anyone had ever hurt me. I wanted to call him a chicken-shit, to tell him he wasn't even man enough to say he didn't love me to my face. I wanted to beat the shit out of him. I wanted to hold him and never let him go.
GOD! How did he have such power over me, even now? Did he know he had such control on my every waking thought? I threw the bottle of bourbon against the wall, and it shattered into countless pieces. I fought back the tears, swallowing them instead of my pride. I inhaled a breath of smoke just as I heard a key turn in the lock. "Dammit all to hell!" was all I could manage.
"What in the name of all that is holy is going on here?" Kathy demanded.
I wiped a tear from my face so she wouldn't see and gave her my best smile.
"Relaxing?" I offered.
"From what? The human race?" she shouted, a look of disgust plainly evident on her face as she looked around at the mess that was my living room. "So what? Being in a coma three months ago wasn't enough for you? Now you want to try alcohol poisoning?" I started to speak, but she venomously continued. "Keep it up. I'm sure you can kill yourself if you try hard enough."
About that time, Nate emerged from the bathroom. An uncertain look plainly evident on his face as he watched her tirade. She quickly turned her attentions towards him. "What in the hell is he doing here?" she demanded. "Is he the reason behind all this?"
I didn't know if she knew something about what had gone on between him and Brian that I didn't, but her hostility was only fueling my rage. "No, God damn it! He's not. News flash--JC's the reason behind all this. Or have you forgotten?"
"No, I haven't forgotten," she answered through gritted teeth. She grabbed the bottle of vodka from Nate's hand and threw it against the wall. "And I certainly haven't forgotten what this did to you the last time."
"I'm a big boy, Kathy," I said coldly.
"I can't tell," she smirked.
"We're just blowing off steam," I explained. "We're entitled."
"Absolutely," she agreed. "Drunken stupors and chain-smoking will solve all your woes." She snatched the pack of cigarettes from my hand that it didn't even register that she'd done it until after the fact.
"What's your fucking problem?" I demanded.
"What's my fucking problem?" she repeated. "Right now, my fucking problem is you. I came over to talk to my friend, who, by the way, was supposed to take me to my natural childbirth class." She crumbled the package between her fingers and threw it in my lap. "If my best friend should show up again, tell him to give me a call."
I was torn between too angry to speech and simply stunned speechless. She paused by Nate again just long enough to take the cigarette out of his mouth and drop it into the half-filled glass on the table. "Good to see you, too, Nate. It'll be nice to visit with you when you can remember someone's name besides Jack Daniels." She slammed the door behind her, and Nate just stared at me. I guess we really were drunker than I thought, because the situation suddenly struck us as humorous, and we just burst out laughing.
"God! Was it morning already?" silently ran through my mind as I was awakened by someone's repetitive rapping on the door. It resonated through every bone in my skull, turning it into a veritable echo chamber. "ENOUGH!" I screamed. "I'm coming." Glancing down through my one open eye, I could see my disheveled appearance. The mirror across the room showed that what I couldn't see fared little better.
I tried to get up, but something had my leg pinned. I turned to find Nate's neck craned over one of my ankles. I made a feeble, unsuccessful attempt at subtlety. "Fuck it," I muttered aloud as I yanked my foot free, dropping the back of his head onto the carpet.
"I'm up," he smacked, his cotton-mouth an omnipresent reminder of our drinking binge.
"Oh, shut up," I laughed as I stumbled towards the door.
Flinging the door wide, I saw Kathy standing there with a smug expression. I just rolled my eyes and started back towards the living room. "Aren't you gonna invite me in?" she grinned.
"Don't push it," I warned her. "The knocking was bad enough."
"Isn't that what one normally does when they wish to be invited in?" she mocked.
I rolled my eyes in disgust again. "Since when, Dracula, doesn't your key work? If you wanna be a bitch, just say so."
"Okay," she smiled, "I wanna be a bitch." The smile then made a hasty exit.
She cut a cursory glance at Nate. "Good morning, Mr. Bartles. I presume Mr. Jaymes here didn't put too much of a crimp in your plans to waste away again in Margaritaville?"
"Must you yell?" he growled before rolling back over and away from her.
She picked up a half-empty bottle of beer from the table. A malicious thought turned one side of her mouth upward. Before I could even protest, she dumped its contents squarely on Nate's ass. "Yes, I must," she grinned flatly. "And you must get changed."
Nate stood unsteadily, trying to maintain his footing. "At least there's some hope your kid will be human."
"Then whatever will you two have in common?" she chirped.
"Bitter resentment towards its mother?"
"It' is a boy," she grinned. "Meaning it' will grow up into a man. You two are familiar with the concept, right? It's those things you two drool over."
Nate grumbled something inaudibly and teetered out of the room. Kathy wasted no time in turning on me. "Have you completely lost your mind?"
"No, Miss Sugarbaker, I haven't," I mocked in my best Southern drawl.
"Don't be cute," she told me. "I'm deadly serious."
"Well, guess what, Miss Fix-It? It's not that serious." I reached over to grab one of the cigarettes from the pack.
"Then explain that," she demanded, pointing towards the cylinder in my mouth.
"It's simple, really," I said flatly. "It's tobacco, rolled inside a piece of paper."
She thumped the side of my head . . . hard. That was something only she'd ever been able to do with such effect. "And that's shit, rolled up inside your head. Would you use that unearthly brain of yours for something besides a hat-rack?"
"Great," I muttered. "Now we've descended into trite cliches."
"Well, that seems to be the lot you're content to make of your life anyway."
"What? Can't meddle in your child's life, so I'll do?"
She shook her head. "At this exact moment, I can't fathom what you'll do?"
"I'll live," I answered defiantly. "I'm not the fragile little kid you went to high school with. I did not beat cancer twice to curl up into a little ball because of some piece of ass."
"Is that what he was to you?"
"Of course not," I answered wordlessly before actually speaking. "Apparently, that's all I was to him."
"I don't buy that."
"Well, guess what?" I asked sarcastically.
"Chicken-butt!" Nate yelled from the bathroom, even cracking Kathy's visage.
I shook off my unbidden smile. "No one's selling you a bill of goods, so there's nothing for you to buy. It's over--fini--caput."
"And you've made peace with that?" she posed.
"Absolutely," I responded defiantly.
"Then what the hell is he doing here?" she asked, pointing towards the hallway.
"He's being a friend," I answered honestly. Then I spat, "You should try it sometime."
"Funny," she commented blankly. "I thought I was. Kicking you in the ass when you need it, not wallowing in self-pity with you."
"You don't know what you're talking about!"
"Don't I?" she retorted with a questioning gesture. "But you do?"
"Yes, God dammit!" I screamed. "For once in my life, I do."
"Then answer one question, Matt."
"Fine."
"Do you still love him?"
The words took my very strength, and my knees buckled beneath my own weight. Then, the tears came--again. She just shook her head and walked over to me, kneeling beside me and pulling my head into her shoulders. She took my hands and pulled me onto the couch as she brushed the hair from my face.
"What's the problem?" she asked simply.
"I don't understand what you're asking."
"Do you love him?" she asked again.
"More than anything," I replied as quickly as the thought emerged.
"Then why are you here, and he's God knows where?"
"I didn't choose this," I reminded her.
"But you did choose him," she smiled. "Or isn't he worth fighting for?"
"You make it sound so easy," I grimaced. "If there was a who to fight, I wouldn't mind this. Hell, if I even knew what the what was, I'd know what I was up against, but at the moment, the only thing I know is he doesn't love me anymore."
"No," she said hollowly. I was almost startled by the word. "The only thing you know is what he's told you. I think it's high time you found out what it is that he isn't."
"He decided that we were over, Kathy. Not me. If he wants us to have any kind of future together, it needs to be him that repairs the bridge that he tore down all alone."
"But what if he can't tear down the wall he'll find on the other side?" I just glared at her, but she didn't skip a beat. "What you two have . . . ."
"Had," I corrected.
"What you two have is something most people only dream about. I could see it in both of your faces. The bells and whistles that made your hearts skip a beat whenever you were in the same room with one another. The way you could listen attentively to one another without hearing a thing, because you're too enraptured with the words to comprehend their meaning."
"What are you babbling about?" I challenged.
"Who is the first person you think about every single day, even now?"
I started to speak, but my silence answered.
"Who is the last person you think about before falling asleep?"
I closed my eyes.
"Who's the one person, more than anyone else in the world, who you want to tell just how much you're hurting because you know they'll comfort you and make you feel safe, like the world's gonna be okay after all?"
I turned away.
"Who's the only person you've ever truly loved in your lifetime?"
I opened my eyes and faced her, and the truth. She just smiled as she stood. "You're right," she continued as she grabbed her purse. "That's not worth fighting over at all."
She waddled towards the door, pausing just long enough to thump a reappearing Nate on the side of the head. He recoiled instantly, and she laughed. "Later, Nanook."
"I'll be counting the seconds," Nate grunted sarcastically.
Wiping my eyes with the palms of my hands, I couldn't help but feel him staring at me. "I think I'll grab a shower."
He gave me a silent nod of understanding, and I pushed past him to the bedroom.
I leaned my head into the spray of oncoming water, the rivulets of water dropping rapidly from my face to the tile below. In the last few weeks, I hadn't cared enough about my personal appearance to bother to get a haircut, so the strands clung to my face. I tilted my head a bit further down and rinsed the remainder of the shampoo out. Brushing my fingers past my temples, I tossed my head back, pushing the hair and the water behind me as I stepped out of the shower.
Well, it was now truly official. I was an emotional wreck. As I looked around the bathroom, it felt like I was having some kind of psychotic episode. I looked at the shower and started laughing as I thought about walking in on Kevin, and I looked at the sink and remembered the concern as I bandaged up pretty much everything JC had. Our relationship had seemed doomed from the start, now that I thought about it. He was never around me that he didn't need medical attention. Looking at the tub, I thought of some of the romantic moments we'd shared there. Now, all I wanted to do was run screaming out of this room before I lost any further grip with reality.
Towel around my waist, I didn't bother getting dressed as I walked into the living room and past Nate into the study. I stopped only when I reached the wet bar. I fixed myself a bourbon and soon found myself quite literally crying into it.
"What'd Kathy want?" Nate yelled from the other room.
"To tell me I'm being an idiot. You know--the usual," I had to laugh.
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do," he commented as he joined me. "You know," he laughed, "one of these days, we'll have to try this with you clothed."
"Damn," I laughed, "that'll take away one of my best assets."
"Strictly a matter of opinion," he grinned, rubbing his temple when his own movements aggravated his residual headache.
I just rolled my eyes at him at shook my head. Looking down at the drink, my stomach started to churn, so I just left there by the bottle and walked into the kitchen and started fumbling with the coffeemaker. I lilted my head backwards to stretch my neck, and I didn't even bother opening my eyes when Nate placed a hand on my shoulder to get my attention.
"What kind of sexual favors do I have to promise to get a cup?"
"I think I'll just let that one go," I grinned as I poured us both a cup.
We sat there in an awkward silence before I felt my eyelids grow heavier. I tried to shake it off, but the more I did, the harder it was to resist. "Would it be incredibly rude if I went to the bedroom to try to sleep some of this off?"
"Go ahead," he answered nonchalantly as he lit a cigarette. Looking down it to the lighter, he half-smiled. "Surprised Kathy didn't bitch about this more."
"Give her time," I smiled. "She's not done. Not by a long shot."
He just shook his head. "Think I'll sit out here and try to get some work done." I shot him a questioning look, and he shrugged, "They do kind of expect something for their money."
"Damned pimps," I laughed.
He just gave me something akin to a smile. "We literary whores get paid better, but the emotional attachment'll kill ya."
"At least your emotional attachments won't break your heart," I reminded him morosely. He was about to say something, but he just gave me a nod. I walked back to the bedroom, crawled under the covers, and cried myself to sleep yet again.
I groggily stumbled into the living room several hours later to find Nate reading over a hard copy he'd printed out. I made a nonsensical noise as I grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the fridge. I just rolled my eyes when I realized I'd started stocking my refrigerator with the damned things when JC was here because he liked them so much.
Yawning noisily, I entered to find Nate staring at piece of paper almost entirely covered with scribbled notations and overstrikes. I guess my befuddlement showed, because when he saw the expression on my face, he just gave a half-hearted smile. "Lately, I seem to be doing more editing than writing."
Nate glared at the paper for a moment, then crumples it and tosses it beside him on the couch. "I'm editing shit I don't even remember writing now."
I just gave him a half-smile of my own. "If only all things were so easily forgotten."
Nate reached up and closed his computer--not harshly, but with frustration.
"Take me away from all this?"
"What am I? A box of Calgon?" I laughed. Seeing my humor was one-sided, I nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. How about a walk?"
He smiled. "Sounds better than a drive."
"Will you shup?" I laughed. "My driving is not that bad."
"Shup? That some sort of redneck amalgamation of words? Hell, the only thing worse than your driving is your speech."
"Oh, I know we did not go there, Mr. Oot-and-Aboot."
He smiled, but it quickly died. "A walk sounds good."
I didn't force the issue, deciding to change the subject yet again. "Well, I haven't had my five-mile run today. Care to join me in that?"
He glanced at the cigarettes on the table beside the computer. He couldn't help but laugh as he forced a cough to reiterate the issue.
"Point taken," I grinned. "I'm not really in the mood to go putting my mouth on yours when you start gasping for air and clutching your chest."
"Finally," he smiled, "something we agree on." Tucking the cigarettes and lighter into his pocket, he gave me a nod. "Let's go."
The leisurely pace was something I was completely unfamiliar with. I couldn't even begin to remember the last time I'd done this or been out here. Actually, the thought hit me like a ton of bricks, I remember exactly the last time I was here. I came to a complete stop when I realized the direction we were heading in. "Why don't we take a different road?" I suggested.
Nate looked around, a little disoriented. "You're the boss."
That forced a smile out of me. "Stop hitting on me."
"You wish, redneck. You lead the way. I don't need you checking out my ass."
"Your wish is my command," I smiled maliciously. "Do try and keep up." With that, I started into a run.
Looking behind me, I saw him slowly light a cigarette and set off at a casual gait. I paused long enough to turn and yell with a smile, "You can get home from here, right?"
He just shook his head and pulled out his cell phone. "That's exactly what cabs were made for."
I couldn't even conceal my shit-eating grin. "You're exactly right, or, rather, you would be. But someone wasn't quite conscious enough when Kathy stopped by. I heard the low battery warning."
Nate smiled smugly, pocketing the phone as he walked by me. "I heard it. That's why I grabbed yours."
I smiled at him again. "Clever," I conceded. "But clever enough to figure out the lock on the key pad? I mean, I wouldn't want just anybody at the hospital using it when I leave it lying around." With that, I started into a run again, thoroughly enjoying the dawning realization on his face.
"Then I guess I'll just have to survive on my own, won't I? Won't be needing this," he smiled as he tossed the phone into the bushes and started walking again.
"Guess so," I just laughed as I shook my head and went back into the bushes. I chuckled to myself for awhile, but soon, I was working myself into a panic. "Nate? Did you see where the phone landed? I thought I knew where it was, but I can't find it."
Nate walked back after hearing the tone and pointed, "I was aiming for the leaves there. Figured I could make my point without destroying a perfectly good phone."
"Where?" I asked again, searching the area he indicated. "I don't see it."
"Right . . . ," he began as he brushed aside some leaves and assorted garbage, ". . . here." He held up the phone."
I put my hand on my chest and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God. I thought I'd lost it."
"Not to sound too much like the spoiled rich boy, but it's just a phone, Matt. I would have bought you a new one."
I reached for the phone. "Oh, it's not the phone," I told him. "It was a gift."
He raised an eyebrow and pulled the phone out of reach at the last second. He flipped it open and punched in a series of numbers. "I thought as much. JC."
I took it from him when he handed it towards me. Looking down, he`d unlocked the keypad. "Yeah," I acknowledged. "He bought it for me the first time they went out on tour and we were apart." I chuckled, lost in the moment. "He was making fun of my old analog phone and insisted on giving me that one. He'd programmed in every number he knew." I was suddenly very puzzled. "How do you know his birthday?"
"I used to be good at noticing that sort of thing. I remembered you telling me when you two met in relation to his birthday," he half-smiled. "You've still got it bad, don't you?"
"It shows that much?" I asked him wistfully.
"I do look in the mirror every now and then."
"God, Nate, what's happened to us?"
Nate started to walk again, but he stopped and looked back. "I can't say for you, but God had nothing to do with what happened to me. I happened to me. You've got a different story."
I did my best to smile sympathetically. "I'd like to hear yours some time when you're ready to tell it."
"Sometime. Maybe."
I nodded. It was enough. I placed my hand on his shoulder, forcing him to face me. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"For what it's worth, Josh is an idiot."
"Sadly," I nodded, "I happen to love the idiot."
"All the more reason he's an idiot." We both paused for a minute, wallowing in our own self-pity. "So, do we head back, or keep walking?"
I shrugged. "You call it."
"What's waiting for us back at the house?"
"Good question," I told him. "What's waiting for us period?"
"Nothing but more edits for me, I guess. Let's keep walking."
"Well there's certainly nothing for me," I said deliberately, "so let's."
"Lead the way. And if you take off running, I'm breaking your legs."
"Duly noted and ignored," I smiled.
Nate rolled his eyes and blew smoke in my face before he started walking again.
"Okay, smartass," I grinned before becoming serious. "So where to? We can only walk around in circles for so long with me avoiding the the swings and you avoiding the bushes where that photographer caught you two."
"That's not where . . . you noticed that, eh?"
"Yeah, I did. Just like you noticed the detour away from the swings, even if you didn't say anything about it or protest when we came this way. It wasn't until I was looking for the phone that I made the connection."
"Nothing wrong with your memory, but the bushes you're talking about are way back there."
"I never knew where the bushes were," I reminded him. "I just noticed your behavior."
"Same night, different memory."
I was truly intrigued by that answer, but I knew enough not to ask. We just walked on in silence. I was determined I wasn't going to try to prod something out of him, even if it was just chit-chat, until he wanted to say something. It turned out, that something never came. We walked around for hours until, finally, we arrived back at home once more.
"Come on," I told him, motioning towards the car.
"Where are we going?"
"Since we damn sure ain't gonna be living on love, I figured it might be a good idea if we had some food in our stomachs," I laughed.
"See? I knew you could think. You should do that more often."
I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Eskimo."
"Inuit, redneck."
"An Inuit redneck? Oh, so that's what category you fall into," I chirped.
"If you'd dig the shit out of your ears, you'd have heard the pause, asshole."
"Oh," I grinned, "so the pause was intentional. I was just attributing it to the fact you're slow."
"Just hand me a safety pencil and a circle of paper," he quipped. "Now get in the damned car."
"Sorry, Bart," I grinned. "I'm fresh out of the red ones."
"How about blindfolds? Any chance of getting one of them?" he asked as he buckled himself in.
"Only if you're being shot at dawn."
"Might be safer."
"Keep it up, wiseass, and the decision will be made for you," I chuckled.
"Bah."
"Don't do that!" I laughed.
"What?" he asked defensively.
"The `Bah' thing, Ebeneezer. I hate when people do that."
"Then bah to you," he smiled.
I rolled my eyes at him. "It's a good thing we're here."
"Already?" Nate asked. "And where exactly is here?"
"Yes, already. Here would be Houston's, a local bar and grill that's not too fancy and we can get some food. Unless your Eskimo sensibilities require something else."
Nate sighed, and I could tell he was mentally giving up on responding to my political incorrectness. "Well, if they don't have blubber, we're so going somewhere else."
"Well, with your fat head nearby, I don't see the blubber being a problem," I laughed.
"Remind me to carve the bones into a club to smack you with."
"Um, if won't give you a safety pencil and a circle of paper, what in the world would possess me to give you something sharp like a carving knife?" I asked as I opened the door to the restaurant.
"An ice cream scoop can be deadly, if you're determined enough."
"Sounds strangely erotic," I smiled, just before I realized we were standing in front of the hostess, who'd heard my comment. Nate and I looked at one another and burst into laughter.
"Table for two, please," Nate told her, pausing before adding, "somewhere private." He grinned smugly at him.
"Smoking or non-?" she asked.
"Non-," I answered her, never taking my own smug look off Nate.
Nate grabbed her arm. "Change that to smoking, please."
She nodded. "It's going to be a little bit before a table is available. Would you care to sit at the bar while you wait?"
I nodded, and she pointed us to the bar. Nate whispered to me, "I don't live here. What do I have to lose by speaking up?"
I whispered back, "You might not just be speaking up but in higher octaves as well if you don't play well with others."
"Careful, boy. I can make a much bigger spectable."
"Size queen," I laughed.
"Poor you," he told me with a pout. "Your personality can't even begin to make up for your . . . other shortcomings."
"Well, one out of two ain't bad," I grinned. "Puts me above you."
"You just want me under you. Keep dreaming."
It was my turn to laugh. For all his boldness, he even blushed when he realized the bartender was less than three feet away from us. The bartender just smiled. "My name's Rick. What can I get for you two gentlemen?"
"Caesar," Nate answered.
"Thom Collins," I smiled. The bartender gave another smile back and turned to fix our orders. "Cute, huh?" I whispered to Nate.
Nate looked at Rick and shrugged. "He brings me liquor. Can't be all bad."
"Damn, you're easy," I grinned.
"You tried to keep me from smoking, though," Nate smiled. "That's a big black mark against you."
"Hey!" I feigned protest. "I bought you liquor."
"That was last night," he told me. "This is tonight. Try and keep up."
"Okay, Miss Jackson, the drinks are on me tonight," I laughed.
"Well, duh."
"I have got to start hanging out with a better class of loser."
"We could call and see if Kathy wants to come over for a drink and a smoke," Nate suggested.
"Let's not and say we did," I suggested instead as Rick brought over our drinks.
"Then start treating me right, or I bitch-slap you and walk out in a huff."
"Drama queen," I chuckled. I started to hand Rick some money for the drinks, but he stopped me.
"The young lady at the end of the bar took care of it," he informed us.
"This should be interesting."
"Indeed," I told him as I turned towards her and nodded. As I took a drink, I whispered to Nate behind me. "Um, not to make an issue of it, since it's so not, but who do you think she bought the drinks for?"
"For her sake, I hope it was you. At least she's got a snowball's chance with you," he smiled into his drink.
"You think so?" I grinned. "I'm not exactly looking for a rebound relationship."
"You're the one with kids. Shows you can do it."
"I'm sure the girls would be thrilled with the prospect of a little brother or little sister at this age," I smiled.
"Then why don't you go turn on the patented Hunter charm?"
"I was being facetious," I quipped.
He rolled his eyes sarcastically. "No, really?"
"Okay, wiseguy," I nodded as I polished off my drink. "You're on." With that, I started towards the end of the bar. Nate just sat back with his drink and watched from his seat, though I would see him smiling at Rick from time to time.
I walked over to the attractive young woman and used a tired greeting that sounds like a come-on line even when it's not. "Is this seat taken?"
"Help yourself," she smiled.
"Thanks," I replied, taking the stool next to her. "My name's Matt."
"Beth."
"You here alone tonight?" I asked, suddenly embarrassed that I was turning into one of those land sharks I would one day be warning my own daughters about.
"So it would seem," it smiled. "It looked like you and your friend were having a rough day."
When she said that, I caught something in the way she nodded her head towards Nate. Biting my bottom lip, I just nodded myself. "Yeah, you could say that. We've both had some bad times lately."
"Maybe I could cheer him up," she offered.
Every ounce of restraint I possessed went into giving her a sympathetic smile instead of telling her she was barking up the wrong tree. "His last relationship ended badly. I don't think he's ready right now."
"Oh," she said, her disappointment evident.
"Thanks for the drinks," I told her as I stood. "Your next one's on me." With that, I started back for my seat next to Nate. He had a mischievous grin on his face.
"That's gotta be some sort of record," he chuckled.
I just laughed along with him. "Considering I wasn't the one she was interested in, I don't feel so bad. What about you?"
"What do you mean?" Nate asked.
"I saw you and Rick over here talking," I smirked.
"Looks like you're the lucky one tonight. He would be buying you drinks if she wasn't," he smiled knowingly.
I turned and looked at Rick in surprise, and he gave me a smile that told me Nate was telling the truth. Facing Nate once more, I could feel the color rising to my cheeks. "So how come I've got a cute guy hitting on me when I'm not looking for a new relationship, and you've got a cute girl hitting on you when . . . Do I really need to continue?"
"The only analogy I can think of makes them sharks, and us the bucket of chum."
I upturned my nose at that one. "I'm not sure I like that particular analogy."
"I didn't say it was a good one," he commented before adding, "though Rick seems like he'd know just how to bite."
My jaw dropped. Saved by the proverbial bell, I felt the beeper the hostess had given me vibrating against my hip. "Looks like our table's ready."
"Set to vibrate, I see," Nate grinned. "Interesting."
"That's the only setting it has, perv." Nate started back for the lobby. I stopped to hand Rick some cash to cover Beth's next couple of drinks, but when I did, he refused, instead sliding a matchbook with the restaurant's logo embossed on the front and his number scribbled inside. I returned his smile and admitted to myself that he was cute before catching up with Nate and the hostess.
"If you'll follow me," she instructed us.
"Any recommendations, my strange American friend?"
"Yeah, move to a real country," I laughed.
"I actually still have a residence in the states, smartass. I just don't often get to the backwoods."
"Uh-huh," I remarked as I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure it's a culture shock getting out of the igloo."
"If you could manage to convince them to let your sorry ass past customs, you could see it for yourself sometime."
"If I ever go temporarily insane and get an irrational attraction to blubber, I'll consider it."
"You're lucky I don't know any actual Inuit, or they'd so be kicking your ass."
"Are you kidding? Have you felt how hot it is outside today? They'd go down like you on a first date."
That one caught him off guard, but the shocked look on his face turned into a wistful smile.
"Um, Nate? Something you wanna share?" I prodded.
"The first night . . . ," he began, but didn't finish. He shook his head slightly as if waking from a dream. "Doesn't matter."
"Hi," our waiter interjected. "My name's Phillip, and I'll be your waiter tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks and an appetizer?"
"Yes," I told him. "Can we get an order of spinach con queso and some cheese toast?"
"Sure. And to drink?"
"I'll have a Bloody Mary."
"And you, sir?" he asked Nate.
"A Caesar."
"Are you ready to order, or would you like a few minutes?"
"I think we're ready," I answered. "I'll have the Monterey Chicken."
"What type of dressing would you like on your salad?"
"Ranch."
He turned to Nate, who gave him his order as well. "The Hawaiian steak."
"How would you like that prepared, sir?"
"Well-done."
"And what type of dressing would you like on your salad?"
"Can I get a Caesar salad?"
"Sure," he smiled, taking the menus. "Let me get this order to the kitchen, and I'll be right back with your drinks."
Once he was a safe distance away, I grinned at Nate. "What?" he laughed. "Just curious if you have a fixation for anything named after dead Roman emperors."
"Never been a big fan of the Orange Julius, if that helps," he grinned.
I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. Beyond that, we descended into more chit-chat and small-talk, talking about every conceivable subject in the world except Brian and JC. Nate never mentioned what had happened, but I knew there was more to the story than any of the rest of us were privy to.
Several hours later, the food was gone, the desserts were gone, and we'd managed to put quite a bit of alcohol away. We were giggling like schoolgirls at almost anything, and though we weren't as bad as we'd been the night before, we weren't exactly poster children for sobriety. I paid the check, and we stumbled past the bar on our way out.
I didn't make it completely past before Rick stood before me. "Would you mind if I called a cab for you?" he asked.
I started to protest the fact that he'd robbed me of a good setup for a bad joke, but then I thought better of it. Looking at Nate, I turned back to Rick and nodded "yes." Pushing the keys back into my pocket, I pulled Nate into one of the booths at the bar where we had a good view of the parking lot.
"Kathy's gonna kill you," he chuckled.
"For what?" I demanded.
"Getting me drunk again."
"Admittedly, I've had quite a bit to drink, but I don't recall forcing you to do anything."
"That's not what I'm telling her," he grinned.
"Oh, shut up, and come on," I laughed. "The cab's here."
He stuck his tongue out at me as I stood. Before he could fully get his bearings, I grabbed his arm and jerked him to his feet to the point that he lost his balance and fell against me. I barely managed to compensate to prevent both of us from toppling to the floor. His face was inches from mine, and the alcohol on both of our breaths was nothing short of toxic. We looked in one another's eyes and burst into laughter again.
I pulled his arm around my shoulders, and the two of us started out of the restaurant in unison. We looked at each other, and the laughter started anew. After regaining some semblance of composure, we started walking again, though Nate deliberately stepped when I did, singing, "Here we come . . . Walking down the street . . . ."
I looked at him incredulously. "Oh, Hell no!" I snapped, pushing him off of me and onto the ground.
"Well, this is going to do nothing to improve the funniest looks we get from everyone we meet," he said straight-faced.
"Neither is your haircut," I grinned. "Get in the damn cab."
"Li'l help?"
I rolled my eyes and extended my hand to him.
"Get me drunk, throw me on the ground. Some host."
"That's redneck foreplay," I laughed, pushing him into the cab.
"We northerners just rub noses. Much more civilized."
"Not to mention practical," I agreed. He looked at me strangely, and I had to smile. "With all those clothes to keep warm, your noses are the only parts that are uncovered."
"You just see it that way because you're used to stripping down for anyone who happens to come along."
"Not just anyone," I smiled.
"I seem to recall you jumping in a shower with someone you barely knew at the time."
"Oh, that is low," I laughed.
"I note you aren't denying it."
"It was an accident," I protested. A grin crept onto my face, "Though after that view, I would have probably done it on purpose."
"No doubt," he grinned. "I've seen enough to be able to agree."
I grinned back. "You make it sound like an amusement park."
"What do you mean?" he laughed.
"Like you need to buy a three-day pass or something because you just can't see it all in one day."
"I wasn't ever really supposed to speculate too far about it," he smiled stupidly as we stumbled out of the cab and back into the house.
"Trust me," I laughed. "While I know Brian's not exactly lacking in that department, Kevin could make most guys ahem come up short."
"Brian doesn't lack much at all," Nate said softly, as though knowing he shouldn't say anything but not being able to stop himself.
Taking my cue from his tone, I took the risk and said what was on my mind. "He lacks you right now."
"No," Nate corrected me, "I lack him. He's better off. Trust me, he's better off."
"Somehow, I doubt he'd agree," I said calmly.
"He doesn't know."
"Then maybe you should tell him and then hear what he has to say on the subject."
He shook his head emphatically. "I can't. He wouldn't do what he needs to do."
I stared at him for just a second, reading his emotions. "You seem awfully sure of what he would and should do, but I get the distinct impression that you're not very sure of your decision."
He gave me a serious look before his face fell into a frown. "I'm sure of it. I regret it, but I'm sure."
"It's not too late," I reminded him.
"Nothing's changed, Matt. It just can't work, and I've got to get my head around that."
"Sounds wonderful, in theory," I told him. "Hell, I've been telling myself something along those very lines for a few weeks now. Unfortunately, it's not my head but my heart that seems to be stumbling with the idea."
"Mine work together, for the most part. If I can shut one up, the other one might follow suit."
"What's your secret?" I asked solemnly. "Both of mine tell me I want and need something I can't have."
Nate pulled out a cigarette and his lighter, then laughed a humorless laugh. "Mine do the same thing. The secret is not letting them talk much, and never letting them talk at the same time."
"Then for Heaven's sake, please tell me that there will come a day that they're not both screaming at me during my every waking moment."
"There could be. Hasn't happened yet, but hope springs eternal, right?"
"Somehow, I find that little anecdote less than helpful," I told him.
"You can make them quiet, though. Quieter, at least. If you make the rest of your being louder."
"I'm trying," I assured him, "but the rest of me isn't quite so loud when I feel anything but whole."
"Thus the outside sources of comfort," he grinned dryly. "I know you've already found a couple of those."
"I have?"
"Yup. Both of which you've caught hell from Kathy for. Luckily, my Kathy lives well over a thousand miles away."
I just shook my head. "If that's the best I can do, I'm in for a very long, very lonely road."
Nate looked down at his hands and nodded slowly. "Yeah."
We both sat quietly for a minute before he broke the silence. "Matt?"
"Yeah?" I answered, snapping back to reality.
Softly, just barely audible, he asked, "Is Brian . . . have you . . . is he . . . ?"
It was a question I'd been dreading, because he wasn't going to like the answer. "Have I talked to him, and is he okay? Right?"
With a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Something like that, yeah."
"I've talked to him a few times, yeah," I told him. "Mostly, though, I just hear about him from Kevin. The two of them did come down a bit while I was in the hospital, but only once was after I was awake. Justin told me they'd been by two or three times before that, though." Looking into his eyes, I asked him sympathetically, "Are you sure you want to hear the answer?"
I could see him thinking about it for a second with his head down. He shook his head. "No. Nevermind."
"Why don't you call him, Nate? I know I promised not to pry, but it's killing me to know you both are hurting."
He never met my gaze. He just shook his head again.
"For God's sake, Nate. Why? You two are meant to be together. What in the hell could be more important than that?"
"He is," he muttered.
"Well, he's heartbroken. I hope whatever it is was worth all the pain you both are going through," I said a bit more sternly than I meant to.
"What's he doing now?"
"Besides hurting?" I pleaded with him. Seeing his head sink lower, my defiance left me. "Beyond that? Surviving. Doing what he loves to do, even if he can't share it with the one he loves."
"Then it was worth it."
"That has something to do with all this, doesn't it?" I asked him, all of the cylinders firing all of the sudden.
"He's better off without me tagging along behind him, Matt. That's all that really matters."
"That's not what I asked you."
"That's my answer."
"What are you protecting him from? That's the only thing on this earth I could see you leaving him for."
"Without me, there's nothing to protect him from. Don't you see that? I was the only danger."
"The only thing I see is two people hurting, and one of them doesn't know why."
He glanced up at me, almost coldly. "I see that, too."
"How dare you," I said, stunned. "I'm not the one who walked out on something wonderful."
"I wasn't accusing you any more than you were me, Matt."
I started to charge headfirst into the argument that was about to ensue, but as he stared steadfast at me, I saw just how much hurt hid behind his eyes. My grim determination was gone again, replaced by pity, for Nate, for Brian, and for myself. It was my turn to avert my eyes. "Did you know I asked him to marry me?"
"No, I didn't. I'm pretty much out of the loop these days."
"I know," I whispered. "He said he would, Nate. Something changed along the way. He doesn't love me anymore. You and Brian still love one another, and I just wish you could work whatever it is out. That's all."
"I'm sorry about JC, Matt. I don't know why he left or what's in his head, but Brian and I are done. We have to be."
I didn't know what else to say. I just turned away from him and stared out into the night sky beyond the sliding-glass door. Time seemed to disappear, and I became oblivious to Nate's presence beside me. He didn't say a word, and he didn't move an inch. When I finally did realize how quiet he was, I turned to see the tears streaming down his cheeks. It was unlike anything I'd seen. There was no heavy breathing, no attempts to stop it, no nothing.
It was like he was empty inside, like the part of him that made him care was gone.
"Oh, my God," I quietly cursed myself. "Nate, I'm so sorry."
When he gave no response, I moved closer to him and pulled him into a hug. He didn't respond in any fashion. He didn't fight me, nor did he lean into it. I just leaned in and held him against me, my cheek resting on his bowed head.
"He's better off," he said so softly, I was barely able to hear it. I got the distinct impression that it wasn't said for my benefit, but rather to reassure himself.
"I don't think so," I smiled, my own tears salty in my mouth. I cupped his cheeks to force him to look at me. I found a pained, lost expression. "What in the world could be so bad that it would make you do this to yourself? I just don't understand."
"I had to."
"Why, Nate?"
"It was all or nothing. With me, he would have nothing."
"And what do you think he has now?"
"Everything else. Everything that mattered to him before we met. Everything that made him happy."
"It's not enough. Not now."
"It will be."
"I don't see how."
"I couldn't replace what he has to lose. His world is larger than life, Matt. He'll find something to fill the hole I left."
"He's done a bang-up job so far."
"Don't."
"Don't what, Nate? Don't tell you the truth? Don't tell you how much this is killing him? How much he dies inside each day without you?"
"It hurts me, too. But he'll move on. He will."
"Big words for someone who doesn't believe them."
"I have to believe them."
"But what if he doesn't?"
"He will. They'll make sure he does."
"I wish they'd start sometime soon, before he forgets that he has something worth living for."
"More than most people."
I glared at him. "Even though you and Brian should be together, do you really think that's all there is to you?"
Nate shrugged. "Brian's not there. The rest of the guys aren't there anymore. Everyone else is mad at me for leaving." He pointed to the computer and editing still on the table. "Even that's crapping out on me lately, too."
"First of all," I began, feeling a soapbox moment coming on, "you're right, Brian's not there, but that was your choice. The rest of the guys aren't there anymore by your choice as well. Do you think that even with you hurting Brian that they've stopped caring about you? Kevin asks Kathy every time he talks to her if I've heard from you. They want to know that you're okay. They're concerned. But besides them, what about the other people I've heard you mention? Andy? Erron? Jeff and Cindy? What about Norry?"
"As for Kevin and the others, they don't need to know I was here. The less any of them hear my name, the easier it'll be to forget they even knew me."
"Well, I met you through him. I hope you don't seriously expect them, or me, for that matter, to forget you, because I couldn't if I tried, and neither could they."
"You'd all be better off."
"I don't agree."
"You're wrong."
"No," I protested. "You are."
Nate just shook his head. Getting to his feet, I could tell he was about to storm out of the room in a huff of theatrics. I grabbed his arm and spun him around to face me. "Do you really think you're so impossible to love? That you're not worth it?"
"That doesn't matter!"
"Then I'd like to know what in the hell does?"
"I'm not impossible to love. I know that. But I am impossible for Brian to love. It was me, or everything else. That's not worth it. Not for him, and that's what matters."
"Haven't you figured it out yet?" I asked him incredulously. "You matter. Particularly to him. Was this everything else really worth his happiness?"
"I'll matter less. People break up all the time."
"It's fucking nice to know that JC will move on so easily," I spat. "That's what you're telling me here."
His face visibly fell, but it was obvious that no apology was coming. "I'm not saying anything you haven't told yourself. I never said it would be easy, but it will happen. Eventually, we'll both just be people they used to know."
"That's your fucking decision, not mine. I'm not the one who walked out on my relationship."
"All that means is that I can tell you that JC's hoping the same thing I am. That you get over it, and get on with things."
"Nice to know I'm so damn memorable," I shouted as a tear streaked down my cheek. "You seem to have all the answers about what JC's feeling, well let me tell you, if Brian and I are even remotely going through the same thing, why didn't you just rip his heart out of his chest and be done with it? It would have been more humane."
"Because I know the same thing Josh knows. You'll live, and so will Brian.
You'll be hurt, and then you'll find some way to stop hurting. It happens all over the world every day. And I know that Brian's better off, whether he knows it or not."
"I know it happens every day. It's happened to me three times now. Each and every time, someone I cared deeply about has left me. Do you have any idea what it's like to wake up every morning to find him not there? To know that you'd trade a year off your life for just one more minute with him? To know that you love him in a way you didn't think possible? To wonder just what the hell it was you did that was so terrible to make him hurt you so badly?" He stood there silently for a moment. "Well? DO YOU?" I shouted.
"To everything but the last one, yes, I do," he answered flatly.
My mouth dropped. Instantly, I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and my temples throb as I clinched my jaw. "You self-righteous son-of-a-bitch," I growled as my fist connected with his jaw harder than I'd hit anybody in years.
He had a strange look on his face that was some kind of amalgamation of anger, fear, and confusion. He grabbed my arms and screamed, "Don't fucking hit me."
My shoulders and my face fell, and I shut my eyes to stop the welling tears from joining their predecessors. "I'm sorry," I cried. "It's not you I'm upset with. It's just that short of losing one of my girls, I can't imagine a worse pain." I whispered barely audibly, "At least if the cancer had killed me, I'd have gone happy."
"And if the pills had taken me out, or the lake had done you in before, none of this would have happened." He pulled me against him in a hug. "I'm really not the best person to be trying to make you feel better, I guess."
I pulled away from his just enough to look into his eyes. Freeing a hand to wipe a tear, I asked him, "Is there anyone who can make me feel better?"
"What little of the romantic is still with me these days would have me tell you that there's two people. Josh, and whoever you'll eventually meet to take some of the power Josh still has. I doubt that helps, but it's the best answer I have. Just hope either Josh comes to his senses, or you meet the other sooner rather than later."
I thought about his words and even the sound of his voice. I didn't know if he was right, but at the moment, I didn't know anything. He seemed as lost, lonely, and confused as I was. I lifted my hand and stroked his cheek. He moved into my touch, and all I could think was, "I hope so." I leaned in to kiss him, and I found him leaning into it as well. . . .
TO BE CONTINUED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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