After the day with the Backstreet Boys, I hermitted myself in my house. I answered no calls. I didn’t answer the door. I wanted to be alone. Admitting the illness to Howie and the rest of the guys was the last straw. It was real now, and I had to deal with it. I didn’t want to deal with it. I stayed up all night, finishing design ideas and sending them off to a friend who was acting as my agent. She was shocked at the speed at which I had worked, but I couldn’t tell her that I wanted to get the ideas down while I was still strong enough to work on them. Who knew how soon my strength would start to fade.
After three nights of about an hour of sleep apiece, I finally collapsed on my sofa. I had turned on The View and was watching the women interview George Clooney when I finally fell into a peaceful deep sleep.
“Girlie…baby…wake up…oh for God’s sake wake up!” I felt someone violently shaking me as I struggled to open my eyes. “Rok, dial faster, you retard!”
“Aje…AJ…I’m up…what time is it?” I groggily sat up and rubbed my eyes. The room was pitch dark except for the light of the TV. “What are you doing here? How’d you get in?”
“Oh, thank God.” AJ tumbled onto the floor and closed his eyes. Brian silently hung up the phone, relief scribbled all over his face. “Thank God.”
“What’s going on?” I leaned across the arm of the sofa to turn a light on. The three of us blinked at the harsh brightness.
“Do you KNOW how many times I’ve called you in the last week?” AJ growled.
“Thirteen,” I recited. “Thirteen, and I’m assuming the twenty-four hang-ups on my machine were you, too, not to mention the three times someone came to the door.”
“That was Nick, actually, at the door,” Brian offered, trying not to smile as I rattled off the information. “AJ was too mad to come over.”
“Do you realize that we were worried? Do you realize I thought…we thought…” AJ stomped off to the kitchen. I sighed and rubbed my temples.
“I just needed to be alone,” I said half to myself. I felt Brian come over and put an arm around me.
“He’s worried. The way AJ deals with any emotion is to get angry. It’s how he is.”
“I know,” I said, smiling at him gratefully. “You guys didn’t need to worry. I was fine.”
“But we didn’t KNOW that,” Brian pointed out.
“This is only gonna get harder,” I said. “I know that. And I needed time to deal with it and just hash it all out. Once I can get past the thought of it all, I can try to help everyone else get past it.”
“Don’t.” AJ stormed back into the room and yanked me to my feet. “Don’t worry one second about us, okay? We can get past it all. We can do it on our own. Don’t waste time or strength on anyone but you, okay?” He glared at me then pulled me into a fierce hug. “Don’t fucking scare me like this again, okay? I had everyone freaking out.”
“Everyone?” I asked timidly. I saw Brian and AJ exchange glances.
“Sure, everyone,” Brian said lightly. “We’ve adopted you into the Backstreet Posse, you know.”
“Where is he?” I demanded. AJ sighed and stroked my hair.
“Baby, you have me and Bri and Kev and Nick. We…”
“Where’s HOWIE, dammit? Where’s my supposed best friend?”
“He…um…he went away for a few days, that’s all,” Brian said.
“To the cabin?”
“Yeah,” Brian admitted softly. I referred to the tiny vacation cabin Howie kept in Tennessee. It was in the middle of nowhere and it was where he went to think. I knew where it was and had been there two or three times.
“Does he hate me?”
“No. Baby, no. He doesn’t hate you. It’s because he loves you so much that he’s acting this way,” AJ said soothingly. “He’ll be back.”
“I need to talk to him. I NEED to,” I repeated.
“You have us, you know,” AJ reminded me. He hugged me again and I felt Brian squeeze my hand.
“I know. And I love you guys for it. But Howie…he’s my very best friend. I need to face him, and help him face what’s coming.”
Three days later Brian called and told me Howie was back in town. My hands itched to pick up the phone and call him, but I knew he’d ignore my calls, just as I had ignored AJ’s. I wanted to wait for Howie to reach out to ME.
One day after radiation treatment for the lesions however, I called. I needed him. The pain was bad and I was violently sick. I knew it was a reaction to the treatment, and going to the hospital or calling the doctor would do no good. I needed someone to talk to me, to make me forget. And there was no one else I wanted.
“Hi, this is Sweet D. I’m out and about so leave a message. Later.”
“Howie…oh GOD…Howie…” I tried not to scream into the phone as pain gripped my abdomen. “If…you’re there…please…”
“What? What is it?” Howie’s concerned voice came through the line.
“Oh, thank GOD.” I began to sob. “Come over.”
“Do you need an ambulance?”
“I need you. Just you. Please…Howie…forgive me…”
“I’m on my way.” Howie hung up. I slammed the phone onto the receiver and began to crawl to the bathroom. As I went by my bedroom, the phone rang. I made myself go into the room and grab the cordless.
“Hello?”
“I’m in the car, on my cell. I wanna talk to you until I get there.”
“Howie, this is crazy.” I almost laughed through the pain. “What if I have to throw up?”
“Put the phone on mute, then.” I giggled outright. “Seriously, remember when you turned twenty-one? Who held your hair as you puked?”
“You,” I whispered. This was why I had called him. He had seen it all and been through it all with me. There was no shame with Howie.
“Okay, I’m on the highway. What’s going on?”
“Therapy…for the lesions…” I whispered, crawling to the bathroom. I gratefully laid my head against the cool porcelain of the toilet.
“Okay. When did you get home?”
“An hour ago.”
“And you just called?”
“I didn’t want to bother you…but it’s bad…”
“You’re not bothering me, dammit, and I don’t wanna hear that shit again, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I said with a weak smile that he couldn’t see.
“I’m almost at exit twelve,” he said. He must’ve been driving like a bat out of hell. “Where are you?”
“Upstairs bathroom,” I told him. I laid down on the floor. “Howie…sing…please sing…”
“What?”
“Anything,” I said tiredly.
“Girl, you’re looking fine tonight…and every guy has got you in his sights…” Howie sang softly, and I smiled. One of my favorite songs, “Angel Eyes” by the Jeff Healy Band. Ten minutes later he stopped. “I’m here. Be right in.” He hung up and I pushed the hang up button on my own phone. I heard his feet stomping up the steps. I made myself sit up and lean against the wall.
“Hey there, sexy man,” I said with a small smile. Howie didn’t smile back. He sat down beside me, pushing my hair from my face.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Um, maybe a ponytail holder? On the dresser.” He nodded and shot back into the bedroom. He returned with a black rubber band and he pulled my hair back into a ponytail. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Howie looked at me for a long moment. I could tell he didn’t quite know what to say.
“Do you remember when we were in like fifth grade and we had that play wedding at recess?”
“Oh, GOD.” Howie rolled his eyes. “That was awful. My friends made fun of me for WEEKS after that.”
“Really? You never told me!”
“Yeah, well, you were so hell bent on this wedding thing and I didn’t want to disappoint you. They made fun of me all the time anyway, because my best friend was a girl.”
“A girl who climbed trees and played kickball and softball, thank you very much,” I almost snapped. I slid down to lay my head on his lap. He stroked my face.
“Yes, I know. You had that dumb paper veil on, and those weed flowers for a bouquet,” he remembered with a chuckle.
“Hey! It took a whole night to make that veil! I think I still have it.” That made him laugh even harder. “And I named my favorite teddy bear Howard after you and pretended he was my baby.”
“Wow. I’m honored.” Howie stopped laughing and looked down at me. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Howie…I’ll never have that.” I slowly sat up. I had never allowed myself to dive into self-pity, but I couldn’t stop. “I’ll never get married, never have babies. Never hear anyone say they love me.”
“I love you. AJ loves you. The other guys care about you.”
“Not the same, Howie!” I angrily wiped tears away. “I can’t be in a relationship…I can’t make someone happy when I can’t give them every part of a relationship. No sex is safe for me and…”
“There are happy relationships without sex,” he pointed out.
“But not a lot of guys are willing to take part in that,” I retorted. “God! Why me? What the FUCK did I do to deserve this?” I screamed, the scream ending in a harsh cough. Howie held me against his chest, trying to absorb the vibration of the coughing into his body.
“That’s just it. Oh, honey, that’s why I went away. I couldn’t figure out why…why you…why you? You have always been a good person, you care so much about others…why not some mass murderer or child molester or spouse abuser? Why you?” I felt his tears on my hair. “I can’t live a life without you. You know all of me. Fifth grade me and senior high me and Backstreet Boy me. No one else knows me like you do and I can’t do it.”
“I need you to, Howie. I need you to be strong. I need you to be the holder of all the memories of me.” I pulled back and wiped his tears away. “I have little nieces and nephews and cousins who probably won’t remember me, and older family who will. I need you to remind them of all the other parts of me, so when they are sad and grieving, they remember the good times and not just the end.” My eyes finally ran dry. “Please, Howie. Do this for me. Do what no other person can. Not AJ, not anyone. Just you.” I smiled wanly. “Consider this my dying wish?”
“That’s not fair,” he said, noticing the teasing smile in my eyes. “Not fair at all.”
“Was I ever fair to you?” I added.
“No.” Howie hugged me again. “I promise. I promise that I will stop being so damn selfish and I will be what you need. I’ll be your best friend. I’ll be the memory holder.”
“Thank you.” I sank against him gratefully, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from me. My best friend was back. “Thank you.”