Part 2 … Nick

Lori’s tears had tapered off to an occasional sob by the time I got her back to my house. I pressed the brake with my bare foot and cursed as it slipped off. Two feet more and I’d have been parking in my kitchen, not the garage. Driving barefoot was weird, but there was no way in hell I was going to even try to salvage my new shoes. I was damn grateful that I’d thrown on a pair of shorts when I left to pick her up. From the amount of alcoholic goo that she’d spewed in the parking lot, I’d have probably been forced to leave my pants on the side of the road, too. I grinned at the thought, but when I looked over at the miserable woman next to me I sighed. What ever had happened must have been big for her to fall apart this way, because Lori was usually the one to hold everyone else together.

I climbed out, closed my door and went to help Lori out. “Come on baby girl, let’s get you inside.” Now what? She was sobbing again, even harder than before.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, her nose all red and runny and her eyes almost swollen shut. “That’s what Howie used to call me. I was his ‘baby girl’.”

Used to? Was? “Lori, you’re not making any sense. Come on, wrap your arms around my neck, I’ll carry you inside.” It was a struggle getting the door open without putting her down, but I just had a feeling I shouldn’t let go right then. It was dark as hell; I guess I’d not left any lights on when they called from the Desert Rose, and I almost dropped her when I tripped over one of my flip flops that Mikey had been chewing on earlier. Desert Rose, what a pussy name for a bar, anyway.

“Nick?” she whined pitifully. “I don’t feel so good.”

Oh fuck. Thank god for big houses with lots of bathrooms. We barely made it to the first guest bedroom when the rest of her evening made an appearance. Jesus Christ, if this was what I was like when I tied one on, then I promised to never have another drink as long as I lived. I never realized that you could cry while puking your guts out, but Lori managed just fine. Multi-talented, that’s for sure. Finally she collapsed against the side of the bathtub, and it seemed like she was finished. Somehow I got her cleaned up without hurling my own dinner, and left her to brush her teeth while I looked for some clean clothes for her to change into.

By the time I got back, she was curled up on the bed, shivering. “Lori?” She didn’t answer me and the bad feeling I’d had since I picked her up seemed to intensify a hundred times. “Lori, sit up. You need to change. Come on now, I brought you a pair of Aaron’s old sweats. I know they’ll fit you better than mine would.” I laughed, hoping she’d laugh back at me, but she didn’t say anything. Not a sound. This was just too damn scary. Her skin was covered with goose bumps and I knew I had to get her warm, because I remembered something about people going into shock and didn’t want to witness it firsthand. She kept shaking as I helped her sit up and I had no other choice but to help her change.

As gently as I could, I pulled off her skirt and put AC’s sweatpants on her. Her feet were like chunks of ice, so I left her long enough to grab a pair of white athletic socks. Once I had her feet covered, I tucked the tops of the socks under the elastic of the sweats, just to make sure they’d stay on. Damn, she was a tiny little thing. Her arms were just about as cold as her feet had been, so I knew I had to get her changed and under a blanket. Taking a deep breath, I pulled her top over her head and tried my damnedest not to look. I said I tried. Fuck, she was perfect, and I was the biggest asshole in the world for noticing. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to wish away the hard on that had immediately sprung to life when I’d seen she was bra-less. Focusing on the task at hand, I pulled a t-shirt of mine over her head and tucked the blanket around her, snuggling her in as safely as I could.

I looked at the clock on the nightstand. 2:30 a.m.

“Lori, baby, try to go to sleep. I’m gonna go lock up and try to call Howie again.”

“Please, Nick, don’t.” Her voice was small and afraid and I just knew I was missing something here. I wished she’d fill me in.

“I know it’s late, but he’s probably worried about you. Just let me try one more time…”

“I can’t go back to him, Nick,” she whispered, and I could hear the tears in her voice. “He won’t want me anymore.”

Here we go. “Lori, what you said when I picked you up, what was that all about?”

“I’m sick, Nick. I’m not ever going to get better.”

The way she said it, so hollow and matter-of-fact, was frightening. I looked at her, lying in the middle of my guest bed, and just wanted to make it all better. Before I could stop myself, I was lying with her, my arm wrapped around her waist to get her warm. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath and spoke the words aloud for the very first time.

“I have MS, Nick. Multiple Sclerosis.”

“Holy shit,” I sighed, holding her tighter.

“There’s no cure.”

“I know that, Lor, but … how did you find out?” This can’t be right, it’s too sudden. There was some mistake.

“It’s no mistake.”

Shit, I musta said that out loud.

“But-“

“I had an MRI, Nick. It’s the only way to tell for sure, and my doctor gave me the good news this afternoon.” She laughed, and it sounded so perverse that I found my eyes suddenly very wet.

“God, Lori, don’t joke,” I said. I had my hand on hers, my fingers threaded in between her tiny ones and she squeezed me tightly.

“My fingers were the first to go,” she said matter-of-factly. “They started to tingle a couple of months ago. I ignored it until I couldn’t type in the chat rooms anymore.”

At this, we both laughed, because Howie was forever teasing her about her addiction to the internet. “So your spelling was bad, like that was any different from before?” I teased, and got the reaction I’d hoped for, a genuine giggle.

“I mentioned it to my doctor, and he remembered some other things that had happened over the last few years and suggested I have some tests.”

“What kind of tests?”

“Lots of little things. Tests that measure my muscle tone, my vision, and finally, the MRI.”

“Just because you can’t type? Hell, Lori, even I can’t type well.”

“A few years back I was doing some community theater until I pulled a muscle and couldn’t dance. I just never seemed to bounce back from it, so I moved on to other things. I never thought any more about it, and neither did my doctor.”

“Until now.”

She wiped a tear from her face and nodded her head. “Until now.”

I needed to see her face. Her back wasn’t letting me see what she was really thinking, or feeling, so I turned her over and the look on her face was just horrible. “C’mere,” I said, and pulled her to lie against me and I held her as she cried.

“I left my car at the doctor’s office,” she finally admitted, sniffling loudly.

“I wondered about that,” I chuckled. “I’ll take you to pick it up in the morning, then I’ll go with you to Howie’s.”

“I can’t tell him, Nick, I just can’t.”

“Lori, you can’t NOT tell him. You’re getting married in a week, he has to know.”

“The wedding is off, Nick. I can’t marry him now, not like this.”

“Like this?” I sat up and looked down at her. “Like what?”

“I can’t condemn him to life with a cripple,” she spat.

I was livid. “Don’t you EVER let me hear you say that again.” I pulled her up until we were eye to eye. “You’re the same person you were yesterday; the same beautiful, desirable woman that any man would kill to spend the rest of his life with.”

Her eyes flashed a challenge, and when she spoke it struck a chord deep inside of me. Two words, softly uttered, would set our lives on a course no one had anticipated. I’d called her beautiful, desirable, and what did she say?

“Prove it.”