Part 477
The suite was finally quiet. Whether it was the cold air or just colossal bad timing, Garrett had been out of sorts almost from the moment they’d left Becca’s old apartment. He’d cried, and then cried some more before spitting up his last feeding all over himself in the car. That set off a new round of crying, not only for Garrett, but Becca as well. Nick had thought she was fine, but now he guessed that her tears over Garrett were leftover emotions from the rest of the day.
They’d gotten Garrett cleaned up and settled down, and while rubbing his back, Becca had fallen asleep next to him in the middle of the huge bed. Nick propped pillows behind him so he’d not roll off, then he’d closed the drapes and slipped out quietly. It was awfully quiet, especially since there was a marked lack of security, fans, dancers and other assorted tour members. It was nice. Very nice.
Sarah and Howie were still out, so he poured himself a coke and wandered around, looking for something quiet to do. Television and video games were out, too much noise. Wait a minute, he knew what he could do. But wait, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. But on the other hand, Mrs. Chambers seemed to think it was something he should do. Would Becca be angry or disappointed that he’d invaded her privacy? He could always read the first entry and then put it away if it seemed too personal. Taking his jacket out of the closet in the entryway, he pulled out Becca's journal, fingered the cover hesitantly and then sat down.
Taking a deep apprehensive breath, Nick opened the book and began to read.
January 30, 2001
"
January 30? That’s right after my …" he stopped and sighed. "Shit. That’s right after my birthday, right after Becca left me."It's been years since I kept a journal, high school speech class, I believe. But, since I'm in self-imposed exile it's time I tried it again. It's been almost three days, three days since I left him. I think I've stopped shaking, but I'm not entirely certain. I ache. I hurt for my loss; I hurt for what I've done to him and I can't make it better. I can only pray that some day he'll forgive me. It has to be this way, I've no other choice. Maybe sleep will help, God knows I've had precious little.
Nick closed his eyes and closed the journal. This was private, he shouldn’t even have it. This must have been the way that Becca dealt with their separation. He should go and give it back to her. He held the closed book on his lap for a long time, torn with indecision. He sighed.
I’ll give it back to her. Later. Maybe later, he thought as he turned the page and began to read more.
February 7, 2001
A better night last night, almost, except for the dream. Why do they always come at 4 a.m.? I never quite seem get back to sleep again. It was the same one, always the same one. He ruined my life and now, in his death, he haunts my sleep. In that twilight time just before daybreak he comes to me, reminding me of all that I have lost and how he'll never be more than a stone's throw from my thoughts. I wish ... sometimes I wish ... no that’s morbid. Even in death he would haunt me, and so I live. For what? I can't really say.
"Jesus, Bec. Suicide?" Nick shuddered as his eyes grew moist. He knew she’d been hurting, and that she was scared, but to have actually contemplated ending her life? He tried to imagine what his life would be like without her and began to cry softly.
Everything I had to live for is thousands of miles away.
A chill passed over him and he began to feel Becca’s despair, to finally understand the depth of her love for him. That she loved him enough to put herself through this kind of pain and suffering had been the ultimate gift. He read on, Becca’s account of Valentine’s Day, and he remembered how he helped make Sarah’s day so special. It was the only way he could pretend to have any connection to Bec, and he’d felt so alone and so cheated. It was a day for lovers; a day they should have celebrated together.
February 21, 2001
They were here last night. Oh God, so close to me.
"Holy shit, the Denver show. We were right here, and she …"
I wanted to be there but I was afraid. I actually drove by the venue and saw their buses parked out back. There was a huge traffic jam, and as I was trying to make up my mind whether or not to stop I saw Raoul talking to Billy and I floored it. I just can't face him yet. Sarah's right when she tells me I'm spineless. I'm pathetic.
"Oh baby, if only-" His tears spilled over, and as he searched for a handkerchief, a tissue, anything, he heard someone behind him.
"Nick?" Sarah stepped around to face him, and saw his reddened eyes and the tears that streaked his face. "Nicky, what’s wrong?" She knelt in front of him and took his hands in hers.
"I’m ok," he answered hoarsely. "I was just-"
"What’s that?" she asked, looking at the small book he was clutching so tightly.
"Mrs. Chambers gave it to me." His thumb lovingly stroked the leather binding. "It’s Becca’s journal."
"Becca’s landlady?" Sarah asked in surprise. "When did you see her?"
"Becca took me to her old place this afternoon."
"Nick, maybe you shouldn’t be reading that." Sarah frowned and debated whether or not to try to take it away from him.
Nick went right on as if he hadn’t heard. "Sarah, she was so frightened, so alone." Finally he looked into her eyes, her face blurring through his tears. "I had no idea."
"I know. I knew all along that you never really understood what she was going through."
"I was hurt, too, Sarah. I was angry with her for leaving me and not trusting me enough to explain. And for not lo-" he broke off in mid thought.
"Not loving you enough? That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?"
Nick looked away, ashamed that yes, that was what he’d thought. "I didn’t know, Sarah. I’m so sorry." He was trying so hard to stay in control, and Sarah had never seen him this bereft, not even when Becca was missing.
"Nick, let me have that. Let me give it back to Becca, or keep it for you till later."
"No, Sarah. I need to do this. I need to see … I have to live this with her, or I’ll never get past it. Does that make any sense?"
Sarah smiled and brushed his hair back from his face. "Yeah, Nick, it does. May I sit with you?"
"Sure," he answered with a watery grin. "Misery loves company." He patted the spot beside him and Sarah settled in to get comfortable.
"Where is Becca?"
"In the room, napping with GT. I didn’t want to read this in there." Looking down at the book in his hands, he began to read again, this time aloud.
February 28, 2001
I'm so tired. God, so tired. I can't remember ever feeling this way, not even when I was so ill last December. I really need to snap out of this and find work. I've been fooling myself, thinking I could live forever off of my savings. Once again I sigh. I seem to be doing that a great deal these days. I actually checked my email today for the first time. Seventy five messages from Nickerz80 before my email program locked up and refused to download the rest. They were all the same. God, why won't he stop? Why can't he give up? Please .... why?
"She read them Sarah, she read ALL of them." He looked over at Sarah, disbelief in his eyes. "I thought…"
Sarah took the slender book from Nick, glanced at the pages and began to read.
March 4, 2001
I emailed Sarah this morning. I'm such a coward, I created a new screen name and then deleted it after sending her letter. I just need her to know that I'm all right.
Sarah laughed, remembering her frustration when all of her replies to Becca’s short, cryptic message had bounced back to her. "Twit, I can’t believe she did that," she mumbled as Nick chuckled. The she read some more.
Who am I kidding? I know she'll tell him and I know that maybe, just for a moment, he'll feel better. But I am weeping, because I know him. I know he'll cry and that tears me apart. For all of his public-faced immaturity, he is deep; he has feelings that go beyond what others would ever suspect. God, this is killing me...
Sarah stopped reading as the tears streamed down her face and she knew before she even looked at Nick that his face was as wet as hers. "God, Nick, how could we have ever doubted her? I feel awful."
Nick wiped his nose and shook his head. "I’m with you on that one. Here, let me have it back." He kept reading where Sarah had stopped.
March 14, 2001
God has a sense of humor. He *must* have to keep putting me through this living hell. But then, what a fitting punishment for what I've done. I laugh and it comes out a sob. What else can I possibly do to screw up my life even more? I know now that my initial fears of three months ago were unsubstantiated, I have the blood tests to prove it.
"Oh my god, Sarah. March. She must have just found out about Garrett. You know we went to her old place today. She showed me around, and there’s this little bench outside in the courtyard … she must’ve been sitting there when she wrote this. She told me something about it…"
Proof ... I wonder what he'd think if he knew what I know now? But he'll never know, will he? He can't. He was explicit with his feelings once before. To turn his world upside down now would serve no purpose.
"No! Dammit, she should have called me. Fuck what I’d said about Andrew, she should have known I’d understand. I mean-"
"Nick-"
"I yelled at her, Sarah. The night after Russell assaulted you at the center." His voice dropped to a sad, breathy whisper. "She tried to tell me then, something about Andrew and I pulled the car over and I yelled. I told her I never wanted to hear his name again, Sarah. I’m the reason she left."
"Nick, you can’t blame yourself. Becca shares just as much of the responsibility. Don’t do this to yourself." She put her arm around his shoulder and hugged him tight. There was enough blame to go all the way around this time. It was beginning to look like it was everyone’s fault and at the same time, no one’s.