Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 30

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 30
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

"Rache? Do you want some soup?" I yelled. I could do soup, right? Open a can, heat it up. I'd gotten pretty good at heating things up over the last month or so. She'd stocked James' kitchen with food, and most nights I'd come home from the studio and microwave something for dinner.

"Yeah… I should eat something, I guess," she said from behind me, and I turned around from staring into the cabinet. I'd thought she was still upstairs. I didn't expect her to be in the kitchen with me.

She was wearing flannel pajamas that I'd never seen before, her dad's old sweater pulled over them. She looked little and lost and as sad as I felt, and I wanted to hug her and tell her it was going to be OK. It was over now.

But she hadn't touched me since we'd left the clinic. She'd pretended to be sleeping on the drive home, but I'd looked into the backseat a couple of times and her eyes were open. When we'd gotten back here, I'd reached down to help her out of the car, but she pulled away.

"What do you want?" If she didn't want me to touch her, at least I could take care of her a little.

"Tomato. I'll make it."

"I can handle tomato soup, Rache," I told her, sounding a little aggravated. I looked back at the cabinet to avoid that hurt look in her eyes. I just didn't know what to do. Even this morning, she let me touch her. I'd held her hand all day, she snuggled up against me in the waiting room.

I turned a couple of cans around to read the labels. "How about chicken noodle? We don't have any tomato."

She didn't answer me, so I looked over my shoulder. Had she left?

No, she was leaning against the counter, crying. She caught me looking at her and managed a smile, wiping away her tears. "I wanted tomato. I meant to get some while we were out."

"Honey…" I went over to her, wanting to pull her into my arms, but…

She threw herself at me, sniffling against my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly. I shut my eyes, dropping my head to rest on top of hers, breathing her in.

"I want tomato soup. And maybe a grilled cheese," she pouted.

"I can do that," I told her quietly. "I'll run to the store. Maybe get some videos?"

"OK," she whispered, nodding against me.

"Will you be OK if I leave?" I asked carefully, and she nodded again.

"I'll watch Oprah or something."

"I'll take my cell, if you need anything."

We stood there for a minute, just holding each other. "Nick?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"You need to let me go. I want my tomato soup."

Laughing, I let her go, but I wanted to pull her back as soon as she stepped away. She felt so… distant. I wasn't sure why. We'd been OK. Over the last day, as horrible as it had been, I'd never felt so close to her. Now I didn't want to leave her, even for a couple of minutes. "Tomato soup. Bread, and cheese. Anything else?"

She found a piece of paper and a pen, smiling a little. "Milk, for the soup. Get terrible snacky things that we can eat while we watch videos. If you dare get a depressing movie, I'm never speaking to you again," she joked.

"Adam Sandler?"

She wrinkled her nose at me. "Whatever. Something funny. 'A Fish Called Wanda,' did you ever see that?"

I would have remembered a title like that. "Uh… no."

"It's funny. Trust me. Get that one for me and then whatever you want." She handed me a list. "Can you find the store?"

"Yeah." Down to the main road and then… right. Left? I'd figure it out. I took her hand, leading her into the living room as she protested a bit. "Lie down," I ordered, and she laid down on the couch, smiling at me. I kneeled down, pulling a blanket over her, and handed her the remote. "There." Bates was on top of the couch, glaring down at me, and I looked up at him. "Take care of her while I'm gone, OK?"

Rachel smiled up at him and patted her side, and he jumped down, curling up on top of her. "He'll watch over me. I'm good, Nick."

I kissed her carefully. "I love you."

There were tears in her eyes when she looked up at me. "I love you," she whispered.

"I'll be right back," I told her, and I moved away from her, finding my shoes.

"I'll be right here," she answered, flicking on the TV.

I had to kiss her one more time before I walked out, and she smiled almost for real at that. I pulled out of the driveway, glancing back, but all I could see was the light from the TV.

I was on the road a few minutes before I remembered to turn on my cell, and as soon as I did, it rang. "Rache?" I asked, worried.

"Where the fuck are you, punkass?"

Damnit. Kevin.

"Long Island. Where else?" They knew where I was. We were meeting in New York on Monday. Well, they were. I couldn't imagine being able to leave Rachel by then. Maybe she could come with me… no. She wouldn't want to leave home. I knew that.

"I've called you 20 times and you never answer. You need to be in New York tomorrow."

"No," was all I said, and it took him a moment to realize I wasn't going to add anything else.

"No? The only time we can meet with CPG is tomorrow. What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I'm staying here with Rachel until… until she's better." I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell anyone.

"Your girlfriend having a cold is not a fucking crisis, Nick! She is a big girl, she will be fine."

I pulled over to the side of the road. "Fuck you, Kevin! Some things are more important than work. You're the ones that want to take a fucking break. Forgive me if I want to take my break now, instead of on your fucking timetable. I need like three goddamn days. I'm not leaving the band. I'm not going into rehab. I just need some fucking time!"

He was quiet for a minute and I leaned my forehead on the steering wheel, trying to catch my breath without crying. "She's not sick, is she?"

I shook my head. "No," I managed to answer.

"Nicky…" he started, carefully. "Is… there something you might need to tell us?"

"No," I muttered, sitting up and wiping away tears. I knew what he meant. He thought she might be pregnant.

Not anymore.

"No, Kevin. It's… fine. She's just… we… I need to be here with her. We'll be OK."

I hope. God, I hope. I couldn't lose her again, not over this. We'd be fine, we just needed to be together and get past it together.

"Is she OK, Nick? Are you OK?" he sounded worried, and for a second, I wanted to tell him. As much as I might fight with him, Kevin was really good at listening.

"We're fine. No one's dying. It's just… I can't tell you, Kevin. I promised her I wouldn't."

"Oh," he said, surprised. "OK. Well… whatever it is, I hope it ends up… the way you want it to."

I had to smile a little at his lost tone. It wasn't often that Kevin didn't know what to say. "It will. I'm on my way to get us some dinner, all right? Are we good? Are you kicking me out of the band?"

"It's all good, Nicky. But we're meeting with management groups tomorrow, can we-?"

I cut him off. "I don't care, Kev. Honestly, right now, I don't care. They all suck, they're all gonna take too much of our money and not take us seriously. Whatever you guys want is fine."

"We won't make a decision without you. If I… no. Call me tomorrow night. I know you won't answer your phone. Call me sometime after 8, and I'll tell you what happened. OK?" he demanded, and I sighed.

"Yeah."

"Or I'll call Rachel. I've got her home number right here. I was just about to call it."

"Don't do that!" I yelled, panicked.

"I won't bug you. I just want you for a few minutes every night until we figure it out. This is your future, too, Nicky."

I shut my eyes, trying to calm down. He was being really good. I should not freak out on him. A few minutes, that was OK. It's not like Rachel and I were going to be doing anything. "All right," I said, quietly. "I'll call you. It's just a couple of days, Kev. When… when we're okay, I'll join up with you guys. New York, LA, wherever."

"How long is this thing with Rachel going to take?"

"I don't know!" I yelled, and he was quiet for a minute.

"Sorry. OK. Whenever. We'll handle it. Nicky?"

"What?" I snarled.

"It's gonna be fine. You two love each other, it's gonna be fine, whatever it is. Give her a hug from me, and we'll be here when you're ready."

Goddamnit, I was crying again. "Thanks, Kev," I whispered.

"It's all good, Nick. Go take care of your life."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye." I clicked off the phone and stared out the window for a moment. I couldn't imagine going back to the group right now. My entire career seemed silly. Isn't that why we did this, though? Because both of us wanted to concentrate on our careers, not a family?

My career wasn't Backstreet right now. Too much had changed. Not the least of which was that Kevin had just taken me seriously. How did I manage that? I couldn't imagine what I said that was right. Maybe it was just that it was Rachel. It had taken a while, but now even Kevin realized that Rachel was important.

She was everything. I started the car again. I had to get dinner. That was my job right now. There wasn't a lot I could do but take care of her. Dinner, and videos, and maybe some flowers… there was a flower store next to the supermarket, wasn't there?

There was. I got an armload of bright, happy flowers, and the girl behind the counter smiled as she arranged them. "She's lucky, your girlfriend."

"She's sick. I wanted to cheer her up."

"This should do it," she smiled, handing me the flowers.

Flowers weren't going to do any good, I knew that. But I could try.

Three bags of groceries weren't gonna do it, either, but that didn't stop me from buying chocolate and Cheetos and everything else I knew that she liked.

The video store was down the block, so I put everything in the car and pulled my hood up around my ears to walk around the corner. It was cold out, and cloudy, about to rain. I found the movie she wanted, and got a couple of stupid Adam Sandler movies for my choice. How could she not laugh at Adam Sandler?

Heading back to the car, a big stuffed bunny in a store window caught my eye, and I crossed the street. Maybe she'd like a new bunny. Yeah, I'd gotten her a million of them, but it might make her smile for a minute.

Then I saw it. It was a ring, a delicate silver grapevine, holding a perfect, tiny amethyst. It was in my hand before I realized I'd walked in the store.

It didn't have to mean anything, right? Just that I loved her, and it was perfect. Like the ring she'd gotten me months ago.

Bates growled when the door opened, waking me up, and I rolled over, looking at Nick. "Need help?" I smiled, as he struggled with three grocery bags and the door.

"I'm fine," he said, kicking the door shut behind him. "It's gonna rain."

"So you bought the entire flower store?" I teased, noticing the flowers peeking out of one of the bags.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I'll put them in water."

"I can do that," I offered, and he shook his head.

"Just lie there. I have… other presents, too."

"Ooooh," I cooed, and he went into the kitchen.

"In a minute. I'll make your soup."

I could hear him clattering around in the kitchen, but I just laid there, flipping through channels. Life sucked, but I'd take advantage of lying still for a moment.

Ten minutes later, he appeared in the doorway, carrying a vase of flowers. It looked a little lopsided, but I didn't care. They smelled wonderful and looked bright and cheery. "Nick, those are so pretty," I told him, and he smiled, setting them on the mantel.

"I know red and purple clash, but they still look OK, don't they?"

"They're perfect. Thank you."

"I thought this was perfect, too." He handed me a small box, a pleased smile on his face. I took it carefully, a little afraid to open it. It was the size of a ring box. He couldn't have… he shouldn't… this was not the right time.

It wasn't an engagement ring. I didn't think. It was a delicate grapevine, holding a small amethyst. It was beautiful, and absolutely the sort of thing I would have gotten myself. "Oh, bunny… thank you. But… I can't." I shut the box, handing it back to him, and he just looked at me, hurt and confused.

"It's not-"

"I know," I interrupted. "But I can't. If I wear this, every time I look at it, I'll remember today. And I don't want something this beautiful to be fucked up that way."

"Fine," he snapped, taking the box from my hand and stuffing it into his pocket. "It was a stupid idea."

"It was a beautiful idea! Really, it was. I'm sorry, but…"

He held up a hand. "It's fine. I understand. I'm an idiot. I'll finish dinner."

"Nick! You're not…" I started to stand up, to go to him, but he stopped me, pushing me back down.

"Sit down. I'll be back with dinner in a minute."

He didn't let me say anything else before he disappeared into the kitchen. I curled up on the couch, huddled under my blanket, blinking back tears. I should have taken the ring. I should have known that I'd be hurting him if I didn't.

If I went to him now, I'd just cry, and that wasn't fair. Then it would be all about me. No, I'd get myself under control, and while we ate, I'd try to explain to him. It would be okay. We both just needed a minute to cool off.

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