The week after the funeral had been awkward and uncomfortable. Nick hated the way those around him were now constantly reaffirming that his mind was back within the here and now. That day had been the first real time he'd confused the present with the past. A quick doctor's visit had informed him that his condition may have been aggravated by all the emotional stress he'd been dealing with. Or that his condition may be proceeding at a pace they hadn't predicted.
There was no way to tell.
He was still living alone in his condo, only now the pressure to hire on an experienced aide was increased tenfold. Nick could see why they were so worried, he really could. They only wanted someone there to be there when they couldn't be to make sure he was alright. At the same time, he wanted to hold on to the life he loved for as long as possible. That included an independence he knew he'd soon have to sacrifice. Angel had offered to live with him. He'd denied her for now. Admittedly he felt ashamed of the idea that he'd feel like he was being babysat by his baby sister. He also knew that was probably the best solution whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not.
Nick stretched and yawned as he went into the kitchen to start making himself dinner. The rest of the family had gone home to the lives they left behind. BJ had left first, the day after the service in fact. It had been an awkward yet oddly sincere goodbye. He wished things were better between them but he also knew it would take time. It would be slow-going between them, if it even happened at all. His father and his family had left for Florida the day after BJ had, with the promise to keep in touch. Nick loved his father despite everything, yet doubted the promise knowing realistically it would likely be soon broken. Leslie had been the last to leave, only two days before today, tearful and apologetic for doing so. Nick had told her she needed to return back to her husband and son, that he would be okay. She immediately started calling to check on him once she was back in Canada, an action that warmed his heart.
Jane Carter had been something else entirely. She'd surprised him by not returning to Tampa yet. Instead she was talking to him about possibly buying a place in the area. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It appeared to be a good sign at least. She seemed to finally be turning herself and her priorities around. Most of Aaron's funeral was a blur, but the one thing that had stuck out had been her apology and the way she'd helped Brian and Kevin take care of him after the service. But when it came to her moving to Los Angeles, Nick knew he'd believe it when he actually saw it.
He poked his head into the fridge, looking to see what he actually had. Nick had never been good about grocery shopping, but he'd gotten worse within the past year. He kept forgetting to get what he needed or kept thinking he had when he actually hadn't. He looked around for some vegetables, suddenly craving some stir fry.
Dumplings sound really good right now too. He mused as he absentmindedly reached in the door next to the fridge to pull out the cutting board while still rummaging for actual food to cook. He knew better than to think about even attempting to make them. He was lucky he could cook stir fry without any incidents. For years he had been a disaster in the kitchen. Lauren was the one who had him take cooking classes with her, and some of the lessons had stuck.
I wish I was in Japan. The thought would seem random to anyone who didn't know him. After the States, he loved Japan. Of course Japan was now out of the question it seemed. He wished he'd spent more personal time there at the end of the tour with the group. It used to be that he would often visit between tours and recording just because of how much he enjoyed the culture and the people. Not to mention he was almost flat out addicted to authentic Japanese food, like the dumplings he currently craved.
The phone rang, causing him to jerk up and hit his head at the roof of the refrigerator. "Ow! Dammit! My head doesn't need any more fucking damage..." He ranted as he hurried to the phone. "This better be good."
YOU ARE READING
Remember Me This Way
General FictionLife only offers so many chances. At the age of thirty-five, Nick Carter realizes that he may be on his last. It's time to make it count. (Written in 2012)