Disclaimer: This story involves homosexuality. Do not continue if this will offend you or violate local laws. By continuing, you are verifying under penalties of perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to have access to sexually explicit material. The content and opinions expressed in this story do not imply anything with regards to the sexual preference of any member of *NSYNC or any other celebrities named herein.
Chapter One - "A Mind Can Sure Get Weary"
I was awakened by a sliver of moonlight that passed through the mini-blinds and hit my face. It came as no great shock to me, though, since it seemed that the tiniest things could jerk me to consciousness. I didn't really fall asleep all that often anyway--not anymore, at least. I couldn't remember dozing off. It used to be that I cried myself to sleep. I couldn't if I wanted to now. There were no tears left to cry and no will to shed them.
I started to go over to the window and look out, but I realized that another person's arms and legs were holding me fast. Justin had fallen asleep holding me again. He hadn't left my side from the start. I often wondered if he thought I was suicidal. In truth, I guess that would have been a possibility, were my mind not still so in shock. He was so worried for me. It was perfectly logical that he would be, but he had lost one of his best friends for years. It occurred to me that his concern for me was probably what kept him from breaking down into hysterics.
I'd grown to love him so much in the time I'd known him. He was closer than any brother or friend could ever hope to be. After we were married, I was afraid of the dynamic between the three of us, but it was all for naught. It seemed he had more than enough love for one more person in his life. We became the three musketeers--joined at the hip and just as inseparable. He and Britney had gotten really serious a few years back, and it had absolutely brought out the best in him. He was everything you could hope for in a boyfriend, or even a husband, for that matter. We'd always joked that we'd never had to worry about their being another man in our relationship since we already knew who it would be.
Chris liked to throw in that the minister should have said he now pronounced us husband, husband, and husband. We all knew that that was one of his defense mechanisms. As Justin grew closer to us and to Britney, there seemed to be less and less time for him. It was unintentional, of course. Justin would cut off his right arm before he hurt anyone, but he seemed oblivious. Whenever Justin didn't have time for him, you could see this almost destroyed look, and it took all of us to keep Joey from calling attention to it in some less-than-subtle way. Chris didn't want that, so it usually turned into Joey having this pained sympathy that every person on earth but one could see. The worst of it was after he and Dani ended that love-hate roller coaster they seemed perpetually stuck on. Eventually, it seemed to be less of an issue as it once was, particularly after Chris became so involved in FuManSkeeto for a time and Jus and Brit ultimately split.
Justin was just one of those people, though, who threw themselves into something, be it sports, music, acting, or relationships. Honestly, I loved having him around. He bought a house in Millington, and it seemed like he was there every other week. Our house in Los Angeles was just down the street from Brit's, so we saw him there. When he used to go down to New Orleans to visit her at her parents, we'd often tag along to go see the girls when they were still in high school. Joey used to ask which of us were the Mertzes and which of us were the Ricardos.
We were around one another quite a bit, but that's just what the "glamour" of *NSYNC became. Growing up tended to do that. Joey had become such a family man with Kelly and Briahna. Lance was seeing that girl from back home that he dated on-again-off-again. To this day, I couldn't remember her name. It was nothing against her; it just seemed I had a mental block of some sort. One of the perks of having a husband was that he could remind me you of things like that before you embarrassed yourself. The irony of that thought hit me, and I realized I was going to make more of an effort to remember her name now. Even Chris had the occasional serious relationship or two, sometimes simultaneously.
I brushed my fingers through Justin's hair--kind of a dirty blond, mid-length thing again. It looked good, but he looked haggard. He was trying to be my shoulder to cry on, and it was slowly killing him. I wondered if life would ever be normal for any of us again. When I eased myself out of his arms, he started to rouse. Gently telling him to go back to sleep, I waited to make sure that he was resting before leaving the bedroom.
I stopped at the girls' bedroom to check on them. Strange how after so long, I still marveled at the fact that they were my children. That knowledge amazed me every now and then, as did recalling how I went from almost dying to being a husband and father. I wondered if I'd ever get used to that. The girls were older now, with wisdom beyond their years. They'd lost a mother at birth and now, a dad. College-age or no, I couldn't help but be concerned for them. They'd flown home as soon as they got the call, and I was curious as to whether they'd just broken down, like they probably needed to do.
They were curled up on Caitlin's bed when I found them. Though they'd stopped sharing a room years ago, whenever something was wrong, I knew they'd be together. Kathy was sitting with her back to the headboard with Caitlin's head in her laps and Colleen's head on her shoulder. She was exhausted, too, but the frequent hysterics she'd been prone to made me think she was handling this better than any of the rest of us. She looked over at me with a defeated expression.
"Are you okay?"
"No," I answered truthfully, trying to force something akin to a smile. I leaned over to kiss the girls' cheeks--these two young women that they had grown to become--neither stirred. I clasped Kathy's hand and held on for dear life.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.
"You're doing it," I assured her, leaning in to kiss her cheek as well. Looking around, I didn't see the baby. Correcting myself, I almost chuckled at mentally hearing him correct me. He was definitely no baby anymore. He'd been sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of my bedroom drawing me when I last remembered seeing him. After a few hours, he'd finished, and the paper that he offered me betrayed the pain in my eyes with such realism that it almost stole my breath. He was immensely talented, especially for someone so young.
Answering my unspoken question, she said simply, "He's with Kevin."
"I didn't know he was here," I commented off-handedly.
She nodded. "He and Kris got in late last night. They're at Justin's house with all of the kids."
"You should get some sleep," I told her.
"You, too," she smiled.
"I know," I told her. "Just not sleeping well."
"A lot of that going around," she remarked, absentmindedly stroking Caitlin's hair. "You should go talk to Nick. He's in the den, and if the pacing is any indicator, he hasn't slept all night. He's worried about you, you know."
"A lot of that going around, too," I added. "How is he?"
"Not too bad, but I don't think it's really sunk in yet."
"Thanks, Kathy."
"Anytime."
With that, I walked down the hall in complete silence. She was right. Nick was sitting in the den staring out the window with all of the lights out. He was sitting in one of the chairs in his pajama bottoms with his legs clutched to his chest. When I placed my hand on his shoulder, he clutched it and pressed his cheek against it. From the moisture present, I could tell he'd been crying. "I miss him," he said simply.
"Me, too, cuz," I confessed.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to imply that you didn't . . . , " he stammered.
"Stop backtracking, Nicky," I forced myself to smile, using the nickname that I knew would put him more at ease. "All you're saying is that you miss him, and you're entitled."
He wiped his eyes and smiled at me. I told him to go try to get some sleep. He nodded and said he would, so I led him back to the bedroom next to where Drew and Leah had crashed. I pulled the covers over him, tucking him in and kissing his cheek. "Thanks for being there for me," I told him.
"Like I had a choice," he grinned.
"Goodnight," I told him, turning off the light in the hall. He answered in kind, and I walked to the living room where we'd moved the piano. I scrunched the carpet between my toes as I inched my way around the room to look at all the pictures we'd taken since we'd become a family. This was like our own little shrine to our lives together, with each other and with the girls.
A beautiful oil painting drew most of the attention in the room. On the mantle in front of it, were pictures of everyone--our extended family as it were. One photo seemed to capture his face--his smile--better than the others. I gently placed a fingertip against the glass.
Lost in the moment, or rather, the memory, I felt someone's hands on me. For an instant, I thought it was him. My head wouldn't let my heart hold onto that for more than a split second before it robbed me of it. One hand crept across my stomach as another one reached around my neck to my shoulder. He hugged me tightly against him, burying his face in my hair. I knew it was Justin without turning around.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"No, and the more people ask me that, the more I realize that the answer's not likely to change soon."
"I'm sorry," he apologized, withdrawing his hands and stepping back.
"I didn't mean that as bitchy as it came out," I explained. "I wish the answer was different."
"I know you miss him."
"We all do, Justin," I corrected, hugging him. "I wish you and Nick and everybody else will get it through your heads that I haven't exactly cornered the market on grief."
"We didn't lose a husband," he pointed out.
"He was my best friend before he was my husband, and you did lose that. So did a lot of people."
Tears flowed freely down his face, more than had fallen since this whole thing began. He dropped to his knees and clutched my leg. Seeing the pain that he was going through--the pain that I knew others were going through as well--destroyed my resolve. I could only collapse next to him and hug him even more fiercely as we rocked each other to sleep.
When I woke up several hours later, it struck me as odd that I was finally able to get a decent amount of sleep huddled up in a ball on the carpet with Justin's arms around me. He was hanging on for dear life--I just wondered whose. I noticed that someone had wrapped a blanket around both of us. Careful not to wake him, I pulled the blanket over him and kissed his cheek before investigating the sounds in the kitchen.
Leah was standing in front of the sink, washing dishes she'd apparently used while cooking. I didn't feel like talking, and she seemed to respect that. Standing beside her, I poured a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table. She placed a plate in front of me with what would have been a great-looking breakfast for someone who was hungry.
"I'm not hungry," I told her flatly.
"I know," she assured me, "but it makes me feel better to know I tried."
She was genuine when she said that, because she didn't mention it again or make any attempts to get me to eat it. Instead, when she'd finished hers, she rinsed her dishes, gave my shoulder a squeeze, and left.
Drew must have been in the den, because I heard her speaking softly to someone. A few minutes later, he joined me in the kitchen. The relationship he and I shared had long ago become one that needed few words. He just sat next to me and hugged me. I hugged him back and tried not to cry again, and he did the same.
After a few minutes like that, we just laughed at one another. I pushed the plate of food in front of him. "She didn't even make any for me," he grinned.
"She likes me better than she likes you," I sniffed. "She only married you. She cooks for me."
"She can hear you," we heard from the den.
"We all knew you weren't going to eat, so why let the food go to waste?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You think you know me pretty well, don't you?" I smiled.
"I've had a few years of practice," he grinned. Standing, he leaned over to kiss my forehead before joining Leah in the den.
As I finished my coffee, I began thumbing through the paper. Inadvertently, I opened to the obituaries, and there it was. There had been other articles over the past days, of course, but something about seeing it like that seemed surreal. It told when he'd died, his surviving blood relatives, and when and where the funeral was going to be held. Speaking of that, I knew I should probably take a shower before I let time get away from me.
I let the water run for a few minutes to warm up while I grabbed a towel and washcloth. I smiled to myself when I shut the door, remembering that I'd gone into the bathroom with the door that didn't lock. The one down the hall did. Exactly how many lifetimes would I have to spend in this house before I quit marveling at that. He and I used to say the contractors must have had a really tight budget if one door lock was going to make or break them. What was worse was that no one had ever bothered to change it.
Stepping out of my underwear, I tossed it into the hamper in the linen closet. I let the water pelt my chest and back as I ran the bar of soap against my skin. Once the lather disappeared into the drain, I started to shampoo my hair. Unfortunately, I started reflecting back on the newspaper again. It just hit me all at once, as it tended to do these last few days. I just cradled my head in my hands and let the tears come again.
I couldn't force a single sound--wouldn't know what it would be if I could--but in the next moment, Justin was standing there. He held out his hand to try to help me out of the stall, but I just started shaking my head "no" and curling into myself. He stepped into the stream of water, clothes and all. He enfolded me in his arms, using his whole body as a shield--for the world, I guess. Painful sobs wracked my body, but not once did he try to move me. He just let me . . . he just let me do whatever it was that I needed to do.
Finally, when I was ready to stand, he helped me. Wrapping the towel around me, he used another to dry my hair. No words would come, and apparently, they weren't needed. He just had such a pained look in his eyes. I wondered if that's how I looked. If it was, then no wonder everybody thought I was going to break like a china doll.
He turned on the hairdryer, and that gave me a good excuse not to look at his pained expression. He brushed his fingers through my hair until it wasn't clinging against my head. He eased the clean pair of boxer-briefs up my legs and led me across the hall to the bedroom. Throwing back the sheets, I climbed into the bed. He crawled in behind me and wrapped his arms around me as I just sat there in some vegetative, wounded state.
I sat there for some indeterminate amount of time. Finally, I heard one of the girls asking Justin if I was all right. I felt him shake his head "no." "Go get the guys. I'm gonna need some help getting him ready."
She did, and Nick and Drew wordlessly came in and helped Justin ease me to a sitting position. Caitlin came in her slip and pantyhose. "Is he okay?" she asked.
"I don't think so," Justin answered. "He's shut down or something."
She knelt down in front of me and took my hand. "Dad? I need you to come back to me. Colleen and I need you here with us right now. We're counting on you."
She'd developed a strong knack for knowing just the right things to say or do, and this was certainly no exception. As much as I wanted to withdraw from the world, even from my friends and family, I couldn't do that with them, and she knew it. I just nodded my head and let everyone help me to my feet.
When had my daughters grown up so much? They'd lost a father--the second parent to be taken from them. Life could be so cruel to these two innocent women who'd never done a thing to deserve the hurt they'd known in their lives. They were devastated at first, but they were both handling it extraordinarily well. I wondered how long it would last.
A car wreck brought us together. Cancer nearly ripped us apart. Somehow, we'd made it through and come out the better for it. I still couldn't believe that fate was so malicious to end it this way, but I tried desperately not to think about it that way. We'd had wonderful years together, and that would gird me for the days to come and comfort me when the pain eased. I knew I'd survive. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to.
Nick helped me into my pants, and I placed a hand upon his shoulder to steady myself. I gave him a squeeze to reassure him that I was in here, and it seemed to settle him somewhat. Drew slid a shirt onto my back, but it didn't fit. He dropped it to the ground. Nick and Justin looked at him curiously.
"That was Dad's shirt," Colleen whispered from the door. "It was an anniversary present."
Justin nodded in understanding and picked up the cloth from where it lay crumpled on the floor. Returning it to its hangar, he replaced it in the closet, taking another one, careful to check the size to make sure it was the right one.
I managed to fumble with the buttons long enough to get the job done. Tucking the shirttail in, I sat back down on the head while Justin worked on my hair. With a little help from the girls, they had me looking halfway presentable. Drew tried to tie my tie for me, but he was doing it around my neck. Most guys know that trying to tie a double Windsor knot on someone else is nearly impossible. I almost smiled at his efforts.
Nick took the piece of silk and quickly fastened it around his own neck before removing it and placing it around my own. An outstretched hand offered me my coat. Looking over, I saw Kathy standing there. She'd been crying again, and her make-up was in need of touching up. At this particular moment, I wasn't sure to which of us it mattered to the least. Putting on the jacket, she and I just hugged one another tightly. Everyone else left us alone to finish dressing themselves, and all I could do was gasp for breath as she squeezed her arms around me like a lifeline.
"We need to get going soon," I heard Colleen announce from the door. Wearing a gray pants suit and matching heels, she looked thirty--and two inches taller than me. I outstretched my arm, and she walked over to me and welcomed my embrace.
"How are you and your sister so strong?" I asked her.
"Are you kidding? We're getting old hat at this," she tried to smile. "But don't think you're getting off so easy. You're stuck with us for the duration now."
"How are you really doing?" I asked her.
"Truth?" she asked.
"Truth," I replied.
"Falling apart," she said flatly.
"Glad to know I'm not the only one," I confessed.
"Hardly," she laughed. "Caitlin and I just figured you were doing a pretty good job of decompensating for all of us right now, so we'd wait and give some psychotherapist a thrill in a few months."
I could only shake my head and smile. Somewhere along the way, the two of them seemed to blur the lines of everything we all thought we knew about them, taking on more and more of each other's personality. Colleen had gotten more sarcastic, and Caitlin had become more mature. They swapped places with one another freely, and I'd guess that now only a half-dozen or so of us would be able to tell the difference.
Listening to our little dialogue, I realized how inane it would appear to someone on the outside looking in. Instead, this was how we coped. Colleen was using her sense of humor as a defense mechanism, while Caitlin seemed to be fixated on making sure I was okay. No sooner than I completed that thought, Caitlin appeared. They flanked me on either side, placing their arms behind my back as I did the same to them. For better or for worse, we were going to face this day as a family.
Kathy rode with Nick, Drew, and Leah, while Justin drove us to the funeral home. Britney wanted to be there for me, but she was going out of her way to make sure no one felt that she was intruding. In truth, I was glad that she was around. Sure, we had each other, but I think if we all didn't have someone else to turn to, we'd go stir crazy.
When we got there, I could see into the chapel that most of the people had arrived. A lot of close friends and family were there, as well as a few select people from the music industry who knew about our relationship. I hadn't seen a lot of them since the wedding, but the fact that they showed up to pay their respects meant a lot to me nonetheless. The entirety of both families were there, but somehow, I couldn't bring myself to talk to either side of the family right now. I only hoped that the girls could and that it would be enough, because it was taking every ounce of my strength to draw breath.
I wanted a small, private viewing, and for the most part, it was working out that way. But even though most of these people were near and dear to my heart, I was thankful that for the most part, only family was going to the graveside surface. I realized just how closed off I'd been in the last few days when Chris, Joey, and Lance politely, but awkwardly, declined to join us, opting instead to meet back at the house.
Strangely, I needed this. Mostly to be with people who loved him as much as I did. Cliched as it sounds, it did my heart good to see so much life around me, especially Alyssa, Briahna, and Ashley. When Kevin and Kris got ready to go, Ashley grabbed hold of my hand with his own and succinctly told his parents that he wasn't going anywhere. Kevin started to protest on my behalf, but Kristin thought better of it. Gently placing a hand on his arm, she said they'd be by the house later.
For once, Nate seemed at an utter loss for words. All he or Brian could do was offer their condolences. Most everyone else, thankfully, kept their distance. When I couldn't take any more, it must have shown, because I was quickly ushered out to one of the waiting limousines. With that, we rode to the cemetery in silence.
The minister said very little. I was certain it would have sounded hollow and empty otherwise. When he stepped back for the processional past the casket, I let everyone else stream by first. I couldn't find the words. Luckily, we'd made a promise to each other a long time ago--one that didn't need words. Instead, I kissed my fingertips, ran them across the wood, and placed a single white rose where my fingers had been.
TO BE CONTINUED
It's been a long time coming. I needed a break from writing for a while to renew my creative juices. I hope anyone still interested enough to read it finds it worth the wait. My thanks go out to everyone, but especially those people very near and dear to my heart. Whether you're the one who listens to my ramblings and makes sure what's on the screen at least marginally matches what's in my head, the one who makes me smile just by being around and saying hello, or the one who'll always have a rose in that special part of my heart, I wouldn't be me without you all.
My old e-mail account's gotten more than a little spam-happy, so feedback and criticisms are welcome at: camillusdelellis@yahoo.com
The song "Hanging on for Dear Life" was written by Jon Lind and Brock Walsh.