Gasp!

by Z. A. Maxfield

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “We don’t know. I’ll text or call you and Colleen when I know more. My God, Jeff, if anything happens to Hazard, I don’t know what I’ll do. I couldn’t bear it.”

  “Do you need me to come?” Jeff looked out the window; it would be light out soon. “Mom will want to be there for Deidre and Katje. I could call her right now and pick her up on the way to the airport. We could probably be there by early afternoon, depending on how bad things are on your end.”

  “The weather’s bad here, but I don’t know if they’ve closed the airport to incoming flights. Maybe you should stay where you are until we know more, but if anything happens…Deidre and Katje will need the family around them. They’re—”

  “We wouldn’t be there only for Deidre and Katje. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know. I know that.”

  Jeff heard a car drive by. It made his heart ache to imagine Nigel standing alone outside the hospital in the rain while Deidre and Katje were inside with Hazard. “Ask for Katje; tell them to relay the message that it’s breaking your heart not knowing what’s going on. She’ll understand. Deidre can be clueless, but Katje will be able to see how hard this would be for you.”

  “I—” Nigel broke off when the piercing wail of sirens interrupted him. “I might do that. I’ll call when I know more.”

  “All right. Take care of them. I’ll call Mom right now. We’ll come on the first plane we can get. Nigel…” Jeff hesitated before saying what was on his mind. “You need to tell Deidre and Katje you aren’t as unmoved by fatherhood as you thought you’d be. Tell them how much Hazard means to you.”

  “That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

  “I know you didn’t plan for this, but Hazard can only benefit from having more people to love him. It won’t confuse him if everyone takes for granted that he has three parents. Why Deidre didn’t foresee the way you would feel about him, I can’t imagine. She’s always so goddamn smart.”

  Nigel huffed a laugh. “Not about things like this—matters of the heart.”

  “No,” Jeff agreed. “That’s all Katje, isn’t it? Did you see this coming?”

  “Never. I never imagined how much I would love that wretched baby.”

  “I’ll tell Mom to get herself ready.”

  “I’ll call you with news when I get it, and you can make your plans from there. There’s nothing you can do here anyway right now except stand outside in ignorance with me.”

  “I need to do something, and making travel plans fills the bill.”

  “I understand that. At the very least I should take up smoking so I have something to do with my hands. You probably won’t believe this, but they’re trembling. I can’t keep them steady to save my life. I’m going mad here.”

  “I’m so sorry, Nigel.”

  “I just wish I knew something.”

  “I’ll keep my phone in my pocket, and the moment you hear anything, call me. All right?”

  “I will.”

  When Nigel didn’t speak for a minute or so, Jeff wondered if the call dropped. “Nigel?”

  “Yes. I’m here. I just…I got lost in thought.”

  “It’s going to be all right.”

  “I hope you’re right. I truly hope so. In the meantime maybe if you could consult whatever deities made you such a terrific bloke…”

  “Count on it.”

  “All right then… Good-bye for now.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  Before Nigel hung up, Jeff was already opening his laptop to book a flight. He knew from experience how hard it could be on a family when one of its members was in the hospital. He might not have made it back home to be by his mother’s side for her surgery, but he was for damn sure home now and he knew he was going to pick up his mother and take her to the closest airport. They’d get to Florida before anyone had the chance to tell them no.

  Mac was right. Jeff didn’t exactly know how to define a home, but one thing he knew for sure. He was tired of being on the outside, looking into one.

  Nigel sat in the waiting room, reading the paper. He doubted he registered more than about every six words. His skin crawled with each squelch of sensible shoes over the freshly scrubbed floor.

  Nighttime hospital silence had nearly killed him when his mother lay dying—or rather, not the silence, but the sickroom noises. Carts rumbling down the corridors and machines that beeped and whirred and suctioned. The occasional softly whispered conversation just outside the door or the sound of someone crying.

  Even after he’d got his mother to a nice place with a private room where they kept her as comfortable as she could be, she’d lain in bed, moving restlessly. The simple rustling of her body against the plastic cot drove him mad to be someplace else.

  At the very end she’d thrashed around, trying to rid herself of her IV lines, her gown, and bedclothes. She’d pushed the nurses’ hands away as if she couldn’t bear for anything to touch her skin.

  Her mouth had opened and closed with each labored breath until she’d finally breathed her last and Nigel had to close her eyes for good.

  Losing his mother was awful, but it had been a relief as well—an end to long months of watching her suffer. As difficult as it was, he’d been there for her, even when he’d rather have been anywhere else.

  Now he wished he didn’t have the mental picture of that bedside vigil in his head, when Hazard was just beginning his life. He wished he didn’t know how simple it could be for someone he loved to slip away from him forever.

  Nigel had never been good at waiting, and waiting in hospital was unbearable. The ordinary passage of time disintegrated, and clock hands seemed to move too fast for ten minutes and then to stay in the same place for five. Even the digital clock on Nigel’s phone betrayed him, appearing to show the same numbers for what seemed like hours before they changed, and then only one bloody minute at a time.

  Time was damnable. Turning forty had seemed like the end of the world. Now he prayed for more time because Hazard made forty a brand-new beginning.

  Hazard and Jeff.

  For the first time in his adult life he put his head down and prayed.

  I know I’m the last person who should be allowed to ask for anything…

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jeff spent most of the trip to Florida in silence, pressing back against the tight grip his mother had on his hand. When the flight attendants came by, he purchased himself a beer he didn’t really want and asked for a soda for his mother, even though she shook her head and turned away to gaze out the window at the clouds below.

  The flight they’d originally planned to take was delayed for several hours because most of southern Florida was drowning under a violent tropical storm. They’d landed far later than they’d planned—almost at nightfall.

  Jeff oversaw the car rental and drove his mother straight to the hospital, still in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It reminded him of high school nights when he’d waited for her to get home from work. He might have drawn out his homework or watched some television show—he’d used both as excuses to stay up until she came through the door. She would always enter the house and sit down with him—maybe wrap an arm around him, too tired to socialize.

  They’d shared a lot of late nights together locked in the quiet of their own thoughts. He’d forgotten that in the face of his resentment, and it shamed him.

  If there wasn’t anything positive to say, his mother didn’t sugarcoat the truth, she simply said nothing. Jeff was like her in that respect. There had been guys in his unit who’d talked nonstop when they were nervous or scared. They all believed Jeff was made of iron because he didn’t share his every thought, but it was habit, nothing more.

  During the trip from Texas they’d received no news—good or bad. The sinking feeling in the pit of Jeff’s stomach grew that much worse. He tried Deidre, Nigel, and Katje from the airport to let them know they were on the ground and on their way but he
got no reply, so when they pulled up in front of the hospital and saw Amil waiting out front, it was with mixed emotions—a little anxiety and a lot of anger.

  He rolled down Colleen’s window a couple of inches and shouted, “She couldn’t even text me? What the hell?”

  “Hazard is finally sleeping.” Amil hurried out with an umbrella to help Colleen from the rental car. “Katje and Deidre are taking a break. They went to find something to eat. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see you, Mrs. Paxton.”

  “Is Hazard out of danger?” Colleen took off for the portico at the hospital entrance under Amil’s umbrella. Her apprehension was visible—as if she’d learned to brace her very body for unpleasant truths.

  “The doctors are still monitoring him closely. Katje says he appears comfortable for right now. Nigel had to leave for the Hard Rock.”

  “Because the show must go on,” Jeff said bitterly.

  Amil shot him a sour look. “What good does it do Hazard if Gasp cancels his show? People depend on him. He has a job to do.”

  “I know he does.” Jeff admitted—if only to himself—he was disappointed Nigel didn’t seem to need to see him as much as he needed to see Nigel. “I’m sorry.”

  “Deidre has asked me to take you to the Hard Rock and get you an all-access pass. When Mr. Gasp is finished, we’re to bring him directly back here.”

  “All right.” That’s what Jeff had hoped to do. While Amil and his mother waited, he took Amil’s umbrella and went to get his mother’s bag from the trunk. He came back with it, dripping, despite the care he’d taken. “Here, Mom. I don’t know when we’ll be back. You might need something.”

  Colleen nodded. “Thank you, honey.”

  “Would you like me to help you find Deidre?” Amil asked.

  “I’m sure I’ll be able to locate them.”

  “They might be in the cafeteria. Katje was able to persuade Deidre to eat, but I doubt they’ll be there long. She’ll want to be at Hazard’s side when he wakes.”

  “I remember what it’s like to have a sick child.” Colleen took her case from Jeff. “You go on ahead. We’ll be here when you get back.”

  “Nigel didn’t ask me to come. He probably doesn’t need me holding his hand through this.” It was oh so wrong to worry about Nigel when it was Hazard who faced illness, but Hazard held Nigel’s heart in the palm of his tiny hand.

  If anything happens to Hazard…

  “Maybe he doesn’t realize he needs you.” Colleen offered him a small smile. “Or maybe he didn’t know how to ask.”

  Jeff nodded. “Maybe not. Although he’s pretty good at getting what he wants most of the time.”

  “Sometimes it’s harder to ask for something when it means the world to you.”

  “Yeah…maybe.”

  “It might be all right for you to tell him you need him.”

  Jeff’s cheeks burned. He sometimes forgot how perceptive his mother could be. She turned to enter the hospital, and Jeff saw her straighten her shoulders before she made her way inside.

  “Your mother is a tough lady.” Amil watched her walk away.

  “She’s been through a lot.”

  “Let’s hope Hazard has worried us all for nothing.”

  “We should pray too, if you’re the praying type.” Jeff handed his keys over to the valet at the same time Amil asked for Nigel’s SUV. They effectively exchanged cars, and minutes later they got on the I-95 north toward Hollywood, the Hard Rock, and Nigel.

  “Does Nigel know we’re coming?” Jeff spoke over the rhythmic slapping of the windshield wipers.

  “I don’t know if he does. Deidre has been unable to contact him. He was probably in his dressing room before the concert. He might not have a signal.”

  “Or he turned his phone off.”

  Amil nodded. “Yes. He likes to be alone before taking the stage. He shuts out everyone but Deidre, and even she’s careful to disturb him only if it’s an emergency.”

  “Would he really turn his phone off when Hazard is in the hospital?”

  “If he feels he has to shut out the world to put on a good show, then yes.”

  That sounded like Nigel. He could face a horde of rabid fans, but he’d been terrified to hold his child for the first time.

  “He might have shut off his phone if he was afraid the news was bad and he wanted to put off hearing it. You say Hazard was sleeping?”

  “Yes. When I left, the doctors were cautiously optimistic.”

  “Thank God.” Jeff sighed.

  “Perhaps you didn’t need to come after all?”

  “Yeah I did.” Jeff wasn’t at all surprised to hear himself admit it. “I needed to come because home is where the heart is.”

  Traffic was hellacious but Amil got them to the Hard Rock in one piece, just as the rain let up. It was dark, but the nearly full moon formed a large halo of light behind fast-moving clouds.

  Amil shepherded Jeff to the greenroom, where a cadre of people rushed around carrying instruments and costumes. Nigel was at the halfway mark in his show, working his way through his catalog like a magician doing illusions.

  Some songs were from back in the day, when he’d burst onto the Britpop scene in the early nineties, before he’d become something of a dance music sensation and a popular international musical anomaly. Some were new enough that Jeff hadn’t heard them before. He played some unexpected tunes—like his beloved folk songs—adding them in between numbers or weaving them right into the tapestry of his original pop songs, using them as segues or little musical asides.

  Without a job to do, Jeff could only watch in amazement—which was his worst-case scenario.

  Jeff had pretty strong feelings about being idle. He'd actually fought the pull of Gasp’s enterprise, fearing evenings exactly like this one, spent watching the monitor while his lover seduced the world.

  Jeff’s rejection of becoming a hanger-on, his refusal to be superfluous or, God forbid, redundant alongside hotter, younger, newer groupies was what kept him from telling Nigel the whole truth, even in their sacred truth or dare space. But now…

  Life with Nigel was complicated because Nigel had evolved. Gone was the selfish prick Jeff first laid eyes on in Bluebird Mountain. Gone, the man who created chaos for its own sake and caused trouble because he was bored.

  Nigel was reaching for something he didn’t think he could have, something he needed like celebrity and adulation and air. Jeff understood Nigel so deeply, so intimately, because he had been reaching for it too.

  Nigel needed a home in someone’s heart. He needed a reason to step up—to become a giver instead of a taker—and Jeff wanted to be that reason so badly it hurt him to even think about it.

  Nothing was easy. Not loving someone, not losing someone you love. Nigel had learned to push people away because he was afraid to trust them with his heart.

  Jeff had hated leaving Nigel hanging after a declaration of love, because despite Nigel’s outward confidence, his immense ego, and his hard-partying ways, Nigel needed—in a way other people did not—to hear more than empty words.

  Nigel was afraid of falling in love. But—just like in Bluebird Mountain—maybe Jeff could pick Nigel up and throw him into the deep end in order to teach him that he would be right there to fish him back out again and again and again.

  I’ll be right here when you’re ready, Nigel. This time, you’re not falling alone.

  Nigel toweled off his sweaty hair. He let one of the assistants cool him off by waving a stream of air at him from a blow-dryer set on low. He’d yanked off his soaked shirt, grateful for the people around him, even though he usually barred everyone from his presence but Deidre. The concert had gone without a hitch. He only had the encore to do and then he could check his messages to see if there was news.

  Nigel Gasp was acutely aware of his responsibility for his audience. He knew that every concert, even his thousandth concert—even his hundred thousandth—could be their first. He never lost sight of the need to
do each ticket-paying customer justice, even if his head and his heart currently felt worlds away.

  Sure, he wanted to know if Hazard was all right, but he wasn’t about to pick up his phone and call Dee until he was done here. After their immeasurable support, he owed his fans that much at least.

  The people backstage—from his band members to his backup singers to the grips and caterers—were unusually quiet around him. Gentle in a way he wasn’t used to. It was as if they sensed the edifice he presented was crumbling underneath. He had to hold it together as long as they needed him to. He couldn’t think about anything but what he owed his fans and the men and women who depended on him for their livelihood.

  One by one, his bandmates took the stage and began to play, first the keyboards, then the bass. The guitarists followed, then percussion, and then vocals. Each addition, spotlighted on the dark stage, built anticipation, until finally Nigel was ready take his place at the piano—in the brightest spotlight of all—to sing “Light a Candle.”

  When he got to the piano and seated himself, the roar of the audience made his insides quiver, as if he was deep in the heart of the ocean and feeling the pressure of water all around him. He let himself drown in adoration, as he’d always done, but for some reason the payoff wasn’t there.

  His fingers curled on the keys until his hands fisted, and his keyboardist, Ken Takawara, his de facto conductor, signaled to the others to play a few more measures without him—to vamp until he was ready to sing.

  For the first time since he’d become Nigel Gasp, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t certain he’d ever be ready again.

  Seconds passed, then minutes. The band played the same eight measures over and over, until the audience began to rumble with concern—with a question it simply wasn’t in Nigel Gasp to answer right then.

  Nigel signaled Ken to stop, and the music ended on an odd note, while every one of his bandmates eyed him with surprise and concern. He raised his hand, a signal for them to wait.

  “Give me a minute.” Nigel cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone. “I need time.”