CHAPTER 133

Connie felt like she had lost her mind. Only a half-hour ago, she was feeling optimistic and cheerful and then the unthinkable had happened. Try as she might to sort it all out, she couldn’t seem to focus on any one piece of the nightmare. Her brain was overloaded with horrible images – Nick laying on the gurney, Brian’s questioning stare, Kevin’s terrible anguish and anger…

Now, here she stood, still staring at the front door. She was totally alone. She couldn’t call anyone and she couldn’t contact the hospital. She didn’t even know which hospital they had taken Nick to. No one could contact her, either, unless they came to the house. The most she could hope for was that she would be paged – an indication that she had email. Who would do that though? She had no real friends in California.

Soon she found her thoughts battling each other; logic fought emotion, hope fought fact and guilt fought absolution. Her guilt and fear made her feel responsible yet her head told her that this wasn’t her fault. Her heart hoped that Kevin didn’t mean what he said but the fact was that he did say some terrible things and those feelings must have been based on something. She shouldn’t be thinking of her own pain, she should be thinking of Nick, and she was, but the accident had uncovered a deeper worry – one she couldn’t ignore.

Bottom line: Kevin held her responsible because she hadn’t heard Nick’s cries for help. He didn’t blame her for being deaf but he did blame her for ‘settling’. She had shown little interest in any treatment or procedure that might enable her to hear. Then he had taken his concerns a step farther and personalized any possible danger her deafness might present. He wanted children but he was afraid that they would be at risk. He was torn between loving a woman with a disability and protecting his yet unborn children. He didn’t want her with him now.

Connie stumbled to the kitchen and picked up the telephone, turning it and sliding it towards the end of the counter. In this way, she could not only see the signal light in the hallway – the one that would flash if someone rang the bell, but she would also be able to see the phone light up is someone called. Answering a phone call would be out of the question but she could check Caller-ID and at least know if he, or anyone, had called - that he had thought of her…. She felt selfish even considering that possibility but she couldn’t help it. She was afraid.

Several hours passed before Connie put the phone back against the wall. There had been no calls from Kevin, or anyone else. Wiping an errant tear, she shuffled to the stairway wishing she could turn back time. She’d spent almost eight years learning that she had to be honest with herself about her limitations if she was going to survive in a world made for ‘normal’ people. She had to be honest with herself now, too. Her friends had been right. She needed to stick with her own. Kevin may have said mean things but he wasn’t a mean person. He couldn’t help how he felt and she couldn’t assuage his fears. Kevin wanted a degree of normalcy in his life. Being in the music business took a lot of that away. She couldn’t take the rest.

It wouldn’t take her long to pack. She would write Nick a note, drive to DeeDee’s and slide it under her door. Connie felt confident that Dee would see that Nick got it. Then, she could go to the airport. She would tell Kevin where the car was in a note she’d leave for him, too. Connie didn’t know where she would go, but it didn’t matter. She needed to get away…disappear. She loved Kevin more than life, but she would survive. So would he. In the long run, this was best. She couldn’t rely on her heart this time. She had to use her head.

*****

It was after midnight before Nick regained consciousness. He had been screaming in the emergency room but then someone had given him a magic injection. Within minutes, he was so loopy that the doctors could have cut his leg off and he wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t even remember them working on him or setting his leg. In fact, it took him several seconds now to figure out where he was.

He heard a soft snore and looked across the room to find Kevin asleep in a vinyl chair. Bits and pieces of the afternoon slowly resurfaced in his memory. His leg didn’t hurt but it did feel heavy and awkward. Nick pushed down the sheet and lifted his hospital gown to find that most of his leg had been wrapped in a fiberglass cast. It was pink. In addition to being covered with a rose-colored cast, Nick suffered the indignity of discovering that his underwear had been removed. Awwww, man….

Brian had come into the room carrying coffee just as Nick had completed the unveiling.

“Don’t worry, Nick. It’s still there….”

Nick jerked the cotton gown back down. “They took my shorts…,” he whined.

“I think they were impressed with the variety of skid-marks,” Brian nodded seriously. “Last I heard, they were passing them around. Those BVDs might even go in the hospital’s ‘Skid Mark Hall of Fame’. Damn, Nick, didn’t your mother ever tell you to wear clean underwear in case you had to go to the hospital?”

Nick’s eyes grew wide with alarm. “You better be lyin’ Bri! That ain’t funny…”

Brian burst out laughing. “I think I had you goin’, Nick. Nah, the cast is pretty high. They had to cut those tighty-whities off. Nothin’ to worry about. That guy from the Enquirer only got five or six shots of your dick. I gotta tell you, the candy stripers were pretty impressed…”

“You better be lyin’ again, Brian!”

“Don’t worry, Nick,” Brian grinned shaking his head. “I’m just playing with you. He took a step closer and tapped on Nick’s cast. “How you feelin’ anyway?”

“It doesn’t hurt. I just kinda feel sore all over. And tired…” Nick nodded toward Kevin, still sleeping in spite of the conversation and teasing just a few feet away. “How long has he been here?”

“Hell, man…’Mother Hubbard’ hasn’t left.”

Nick looked down at the sheet and twisted the hem between his fingers. “Has he talked to Connie?”

“Don’t think so…”

Nick nodded, but still did not raise his eyes. “It wasn’t her fault, Bri.”

“I know…” Brian gave Nick’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “It’ll be alright.”

“Okay,” Nick sighed, closing his eyes. “Wake Kevin up and you two get outta here. I’m gonna sleep anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Even as he spoke, Nick began to drift. The doctors had told the cousins that they’d keep him at least overnight and that ‘maybe’ they would release him tomorrow afternoon. Brian looked over at Kevin. He needed to get home. The words he had screamed at Connie were born out of fear but that did little to lessen their poison. Plus, Connie was probably worried sick. Brian gave Kevin’s foot a kick, startling him out of his slumber and issued a directive of his own. It was time for them to leave. It took a little convincing, but Kevin finally relented. He was physically and emotionally exhausted.

*****

The house was dark when Brian dropped him off and Kevin assumed that Connie had gone to bed. It was close to two AM. When he reached the top of the stairs, he realized the implication of the house being totally dark. Connie always left the hall light on….

Their bed was empty. Maybe she fell asleep downstairs… It didn’t take Kevin long to conclude that Connie was nowhere in the house or on the beach. The words he had screamed in her face burst into his brain like a punctured cyst. Kevin stood at the foot of the stairs, running his fingers through his hair, wondering where she could have gone. By now, every light in the house was on. That’s when he saw it. A note was propped up on the end of the third stair. He hadn’t seen it earlier because it had been dark. When he drew closer, he could see that there was something else laying beside the paper - something that sparkled…..

Chapter 134

Kevin’s heart was hammering in his ears. In his gut, he knew that Connie’s note was a ‘good-bye’. The evidence of that lay in the soft pile beside the carefully placed note – the engagement ring. Burning bile rose in his throat as he plucked the ring from carpet and cradled it in the palm of his hand, examining it carefully as if he had never seen it before. Perhaps he was hoping he hadn’t – that this was some other jewel of less significance and not the one he had purchased for Connie at Tiffany’s in New York. Every stone was perfect, every prong steadfast and strong, every feeling it represented pure and unchanged – at least in his eye.

Kevin had spent the last several hours ignoring Brian’s pointed gazes, choosing to concentrate on Nick’s injury and temporarily distract himself from the bewildered and haunted expression that had fallen on Connie’s face as he screamed at her on these very stairs. He had lost control and struck out at her, expressing his own fears in a cruel, unfair and misleading way. He had done this before, but this time was, by far, the worst. His accusations were ugly and untrue. It was as if every little nagging personal fear or concern had overshadowed the immediate crisis – Nick’s fall.

Kevin’s throat was so constricted that he couldn’t even swallow as he reached out to pick up the paper that was covered in Connie’s hand. It took his a moment to focus and steady his hands so he could read her words. He found himself pausing after almost every sentence, mentally adding his own commentary as he fought for the courage to read the next line.

Dear Kevin,

This letter is so very hard for me to write. … and it’s so very hard for me to read, baby… I have to leave and I think you understand why. …because I hurt you so bad… I have never been so sorry for anything in my life as I was when I realized that Nick was hurt and I was oblivious to his pain. …but you didn’t know…

I know that you think I’m avoiding treatment, that maybe I don’t even want to hear again. Nothing could be farther from the truth. …I know that, Con… I would dearly love to be able to have a part in the things you care about – like music. I loved music at one time. My accident not only took my hearing, but also a part of my soul when the music was gone. But I have to be honest. I don’t crave melodies nearly as much as I crave the sound of your voice. …Jesus… I would happily exchange the sound of music for the sound of your whispers in the night.

Kevin finally drew a shaky breath, surprised by the rattling sound it created in his throat. He was close to sobbing and could no longer see her words. He paused for a moment to wipe his eyes and expel several breaths in an attempt to calm himself and continue.

At first, my family and I searched relentlessly for a ‘cure’. The best hope seemed to be a cochlear implant but doctor after doctor told us that my injuries were too severe. When I was on my own, I continued my search but each examination and evaluation was a disappointment. The last doctor I saw, an expert in his field, could see that I had become desperate to the point of obsession and that this continual disappointment was beginning to affect my ability to function as well of my feelings of self worth. The psychiatrist you found for me was not the first one I had visited although the one I saw several years ago was not seen to address my phobias, but to help me realize my value as a human being – deaf or not. He was very good and helped me tremendously. In fact, I credit him with helping me find the good sense to leave Trevor. He and my specialist conferred about my case and offered a suggestion which I have followed to this day. ‘Work with what you have – or don’t have - and let the rest be.’ My doctor promised that as soon as any hint of progress was made, progress that might benefit me, he would contact me – and that it might take years, if it ever happened at all. In the meantime, I must try to not set myself up for disappointment. The psychiatrist had told me that our greatest unhappiness occurred when people or events failed to meet our expectations – that a cure for my deafness would be a wonderful bonus but that it shouldn’t be my lifelong goal. I took that advice in order to survive emotionally.

Anyway, I can see that your view is different. I know you want me to hear. I want that, too. Neither of us is wrong in that, but I’ve had to accept that it’s not possible right now. I don’t think you’ve come to the same conclusion and have misread my apparent lack of interest as an attitude of defeat.

Beyond all of this lies the practical. I realize that maintaining a relationship is hard work no matter what the circumstances, but our circumstances make things even more difficult. …no…. You’ve been so dear, Kevin but …no, Connie…. you’re going to need some things that I may not ever be able to offer. …stop…. Please know that I love you more than I ever thought possible. You’ve taken me to emotional and physical places that I never knew existed, but ….STOP… what you said to me was and may always be true. ….please, Connie. don’t… I couldn’t even hear our babies cry. …NO!….

Please take good care of yourself. I love you enough to hope that you find someone who will be good to you and be able to offer you everything you need in a woman, wife and mother for the children I know you want so desperately. …that’s YOU, Connie…

I’m going to go, now. It’s late. I’ll leave your car at the remote parking section of the airport and put the keys over the visor.…don’t do this to me… There’s another set in the kitchen drawer.…come back!…

Please tell Nick that I’m truly sorry. I’m also sorry that I had to write this letter but as the evening passed with no word, I realized that I was not strong enough to face you. I question the phrase ‘It is better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all’. I hope I feel that way one day, but it hurts too much right now. I have no doubts that you loved me …LOVE, Connie! Not ‘loved’… but I have to face the fact that love does not conquer all. …you’re wrong…

Connie

Kevin tilted his hand and watched as Connie’s ring rolled from his palm and bounced down the stairs to the tile. For a moment, his desire for escape caused him to consider opening the bottle of Haig & Haig under the bar but he realized that nothing could make him feel any number than he felt at that moment. He tried to stand but made his way back down the stairs leaning on the banister for support, dropping Connie’s letter when his feet hit tile.

His mind was almost blank, refusing to absorb reality and soon he found himself out on the deck, staring at the ocean. Minutes later, he was completely nude and standing waist high in the rolling surf. The salty water was no match for his salty tears as he began to sob, his cries drowned out by the sound of the ocean.

*****

Connie opened her laptop before taking a moment to look out of window over the Rockies. Wyoming was beautiful and it’s vastness would provide her with privacy as well as a hiding place. The little inn she had found was in ski country but was not a resort. It was a cozy, comfortable and quiet place frequented more by older fishermen than by young snowboarders and it’s owners, an elderly couple who had lived in the area all their lives were curious but non-intrusive. Her plan was to stay in Wyoming indefinitely. Perhaps she would even find a little place to rent or even buy.

Before Connie had written her letter to Kevin last night, she had put blocks up on all of her email which allowed her receive messages only from Hannah and Stephen. Even then, she wasn’t afraid of being found because her ISP number would trace back to the server which was based outside of Washington, DC. They wouldn’t know where she was and she didn’t plan to tell them. In fact, it wouldn’t be long before Stephen’s mail would be blocked as well. She was going to resign from Plymouth and she wanted the resignation to be effective immediately. It wouldn’t be long before she discovered that Stephen Sullivan has resigned and had disappeared as well.

Connie could always count on Hannah and she would need to depend on her now. She would ask Hannah to contact a realtor and arrange for her flat to be sold. She didn’t think it would take much time. Connie had ‘lucked’ onto the place herself and had already had people request that she let them know if she ever decided to sell. Hopefully, Hannah would not press her on any personal details. Connie just wasn’t ready to talk about this yet. She doubted she ever would be.

An hour later, she had sent her messages, surprised at her sudden physical drain. She only had one more thing to check on. Connie clicked on a search engine and typed in the words ‘Nick Carter + hospital’. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. Although the name of the hospital was not disclosed, there was an update about his condition: ‘Although the break, sustained as the result of a nasty fall, was quite serious, doctors expected a full and complete recovery. Performances should not be affected.’ With that, Connie shut down her computer and headed for bed.

She had hoped that sleep would find her quickly. She had done fairly well, up until now, convincing herself that time would heal them all. Her conviction lapsed, however, when she rolled to her side and stared at the empty space beside her. That’s when her house of logical cards came tumbling down and she cried herself to sleep like a heartbroken child, desperately wishing for the comfort of the man that she loved.