Songbird For you, there’ll be no more crying, For you, the sun will be shining, And I feel that when I’m with you, It’s alright, I know it’s right To you, I’ll give the world To you, I’ll never be cold ’cause I feel that when I’m with you, It’s alright, I know it’s right. And the songbirds are singing, Like they know the score, And I love you, I love you, I love you, Like never before. And I wish you all the love in the world, But most of all, I wish it from myself. And the songbirds keep singing, Like they know the score, And I love you, I love you, I love you, Like never before, like never before.

I wish it for myself...

The rest of the tour was relatively quiet. No more dramatics or tears for anyone, except of course Emory. The night after her miscarriage, she had gone to Diana and cried about the lost baby. She had lamented the home that she missed so much. She had said that she felt that as long as the life she and Isaac lived was this crazy, she would never feel like she ever found home. She couldn't understand how all of us did it; we just went along as if nothing was going on. She said that the fact I could walk through a herd of girls and not react as they screamed my name was miraculous. She went on and on about how she didn't know if she could live this life forever. She said that it was crazy for her to even imagine that she had a clue what she was getting into. And she was positive that as long as this was how she had to live, she'd never get pregnant. The stress of this life was more than she could bear. Diana had listened patiently. With tears in her eyes, she held Emory close and assured her that it would happen soon. Diana then told her of the baby she’d lost before becoming pregnant with Isaac. She also told her that we didn't ever really get used to this life, we just chose to not let it get to us, get under our skin. That sometimes the reward for being here and being with the guys was greater than the inconvenience. As time goes by, she'd realize and understand that it's not really a sacrifice, just a fact of our lives. Babies would come when the time was right. God always sent babies when the time was right. And then, their baby would be a gift like no other. According to Diana, babies are always a gift.

I watched Zac closely as Diana and Emory were talking to one another. His face was unreadable, blank and emotionless. About halfway through, he jumped up and climbed into his bunk, something he almost never did. I think I was the only one who noticed that Zac seemed to be avoiding Isaac and Emory at all costs. He took to eating in his room instead of with everyone, sitting in the front lounge with his iPod glued to his ears instead of in the back playing video games with Mac, spending way more time just talking to Anne and less time with the rest of us. If anyone else noticed at first, they didn't mention it or react. But to me, Zac seemed changed and it was tragic to watch him become more and more preoccupied with whatever decision he had made. I just prayed it was the right one for him.

Still, the true tragedy was watching Emory go farther and farther into herself leaving Isaac standing there missing her. Sometimes, it almost seemed like she had already left for Ireland. The plan was that Isaac and Emory would go to Ireland for an extended vacation, stay over Christmas and New Year's. Emory was so homesick. She was just a ghost moving quietly along behind all of us. She seemed to fade a little. I was worried that they would not be able to find the joy again. I worried that she was so sad she would simply cease to exist. Her essence seemed diminished. The both of them radiated this palpable sadness that no one spoke of or acknowledged.

Taylor and I only spoke about Zac and his situation when we were alone in our hotel room. Although he never told us what his decision was, the fact that he hadn't said anything to anyone other than Taylor and I, I assumed that he hadn't called Symphony. And I was sad Zac was losing out on being a father. And there was no one in this world who would make a better father. Taylor was an amazing daddy, but I had always imagined that Zac would be father of the year for life. But I also understood that perhaps this wasn’t the best time. Zac became so loving and tender towards Anne. It was amazing to watch. It was so obvious that he loved her with all that he was. I hoped beyond everything that he could live with his decision. That it didn’t eat away at him and change who he was. As the tour entered its final four shows, I watched him become more and more thoughtful, more and more introspective. At this point, I think everyone was beginning to notice the change in him.

The last morning on the road finally arrived, Zac and I were the only two up as the bus crested that final hill and Tulsa lay before us. It was very early morning, so the city was barely giving off a faint glow, but there is something about being home, being in a city I recognized completely, being in a place that somehow managed to make everything seem alright. I felt a rush as I realized that my warm home and comfortable bed were so close. I stood up and walked to the front of the bus, opening the curtain behind the driver. I watched as familiar exits began to flow by, street names that meant something concrete to me, places I could picture. I sat feeling the exhaustion of the tour just settling into my bones. I hadn't allowed myself to feel tired until this moment. And the exhaustion was complete. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my head on them, watching, just watching.

Tulsa.

I was home. I felt the bench shift; I lifted my head to see Zac. Zac looked at me, a sad smile on his face. He sighed deeply and just rested his head on my shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was soft and thick with emotion. "Home."

"Yeah, isn't it beautiful?" I asked happy to see the Arkansas River flowing by. I felt a rush of homesickness wash over me. I thought it was ironic that I was missing my home more as it drew closer.

“Home may never mean the same thing.”

“Home always means the same thing to me,” I said quietly.

“What is that?” Zac asked.

“Taylor and Annabelle,” I said without hesitation. It was true; maybe that's why I never yearned for this when I'm on the road. Because, they are my home. They are what make me feel whole, not this city that I recognized or the streets I knew the names of. “Anywhere they are is home.”

Silence descended again. As the bus turned onto the street where Taylor and I live, I felt a surge of joy. Taylor and Annabelle made anywhere feel like home, so I didn't feel that gnawing homesickness so many others felt. But seeing the bricks and mortar that made up my house, I knew that this building was more than just a house. The bus stopped. The driver got out and started pulling out our bags, all of our bags had tags with a big red "2" on them. I went back and found Tay sleeping in Zac’s bunk. “Tay, baby, we’re home.”

“Home?” He asked sleepily. “Home in Tulsa?”

“Yes, silly!” I said kissing him. “Ugh, you have morning breath.”

“Sorry,” Taylor said extricating himself from the bunk. As we whispered back and forth, I could hear rustling in the other bunks. I hoped our quiet conversation wasn't what was waking them. But I suspected it was the lack of movement.

“It’s okay,” I said collecting Annabelle from Taylor’s bunk, which explains Taylor in Zac’s bunk. “I would never say no to a kiss from you.”

He leaned down and kissed me again, gently lifting Annabelle out of my arms. “Your breath isn’t all that great.”

“Probably not,” I said as I descended the steps of the bus. The pile of bags resting on the parking strip in front of our house seemed daunting. “Ugh, we have to take all that into our house.”

“I’ll help you.” Zac said hopping out of the bus and grabbing a couple of bags.

“Thanks bro,” Taylor said shouldering a bag and holding Annabelle. I jogged up ahead of everyone with bags on each shoulder to unlock the front door. I stuck the key into the lock and felt a total sense of relief and security flood through me. The lock stuck at precisely the same spot as it always has. I lifted up on the handle and the key finished its rotation. I pushed the door open and sighed. The house smelled like home, but what else could it smell like? I stepped inside, setting my bag down at the bottom of the steps.

The house was not as stuffy as I thought it would be and it was cleaner than I remembered leaving it. I stepped aside so Taylor could go upstairs and put Annabelle in her bed. I went back out to finish gathering up bags. And was surprised to find all of them lined up on the porch. Zac came ambling up with the last bag. “Thank you so much.” I said stowing each bag just inside the door.

“No worries.” Zac said stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. He stood watching me, squinting in the early morning light. “I think I need to say thank you as well.”

“Thank me?” I asked surprised.

“Yeah,” Zac said suddenly becoming very interested in his feet. He stood wiggling his bare toes in the grass. “For keeping my secret and for talking to Taylor.”

“How do you know I talked to Taylor?” I asked as Taylor galloped down the stairs.

“Because, only you and your reasoning could keep him off my back.” Zac said softly. I felt a warm hand on my back; Taylor’s hand snaked around my waist. “You are the only one with any sort of power over my brother.”

“Well, wouldn’t you willingly be under her spell?” Taylor asked kissing me again. He had found time to brush his teeth while putting Annabelle to bed.

“I tried,” Zac said shrugging. “I guess she likes younger men, but not way younger men.”

“Your loss,” Taylor said hugging me.

“You’re telling me.” Zac said grinning at me. “She’s so hot…”

“Totally hot.” Taylor replied. “Hot spelled: H, A, W, T!”

“Would you two just shut up?” I said blushing. “Zac, go home!”

“Yeah, I ought to go and get some sleep before tonight’s show.” Zac said turning to go back to the bus. “You may want to get some sleep too… Gotta represent in front of the home crowd.”

“Yeah, gotta represent,” Taylor mumbled pulling me into a tight hug. We stood on the porch in the early morning light just holding each other. The door of the bus closed and pulled away, leaving us in blissful silence. “God, it’s so good to be home.”

"And we have nothing to do and nowhere to be for a very, very long time." I said squeezing him.

"Well, we have just one more show." Taylor sighed. "One more show in front of all the people we love. So, what percentage of the crowd will be family and what percentage fans?"

"Well, I think you could very easily fill Cain's with just family and friends, but if I remember correctly, we requested 500 tickets." I said as we walked into the house. "And I know that a lot of your cousins bought extra tickets."

"Dang, we should have requested more," Taylor said following me into the kitchen. He walked straight over to the fridge. "So, do you think we have any food?"

"I don't know," I said getting a glass out of the cupboard. I would drink some cold water, but what I really wanted was something cold and tart. "But I hope we have some orange juice."

"Dear Cleo, I thought you might like some food in your fridge. I heard you were going to be home today and I know you'll be exhausted. I hope that all is well with you and that beautiful husband of yours. I will see you tonight so I can hold and spoil my angel baby. Love you more than anything, Mama Margaret." Taylor read as he placed a gallon of freshly squeezed orange juice on the counter.

"Aw, my Mama Margaret is so good to me," I said opening the gallon of juice. "She was probably here an hour ago making sure everything was taken care of."

“Does that woman ever sleep?” Taylor asked taking a huge bite out of an apple. “I mean, your mom keeps her working until late every night, she’s up early taking care of all her kids and her husband, she works out every morning… She is amazing.”

“Yeah, she is,” I said smiling as I thought of Mama Margaret. She was the single happiest person I'd ever known. She'd worked for my mother since before I was born. And in those twenty-five years, she'd had nine children, put her husband through school so he could become a teacher, took care of her elderly mother, sang lead in her church choir, baked cookies for all the kids in her neighborhood, went to the gym every morning, and loved me completely. She really was the reason why my mother's office ran so smoothly.

"You look exhausted," Taylor said from where he sat at the bar. He looked tired and rumpled, but his blue eyes shone brightly. I loved to watch the action of his jaw as he chewed his apple.

"I look that good?" I asked taking a huge swig of orange juice.

"You do look good, just tired." Taylor said standing and walking around to me. "We had better go try to get a little sleep. Who knows when Belle is going to wake up and demand some attention?"

"Probably sooner than either of us would like," I answered following along behind him grasping his offered hand. I followed wordlessly as he ascended the stairs and went into our room. Mama Margaret had thought of everything. There were several dozen roses scattered around the room and some candles warmed on the new warmers she'd obviously bought for me sending out their gentle fragrance. "Wow, I love that woman... Gotta make sure that my mom gives her a big bonus this year..."

I wandered into the bathroom, even if I was exhausted I wanted to brush and floss my teeth. I looked around the room and loved seeing all of my things, my pictures hanging on the wall, the wallpaper I had chosen, the claw-foot tub that I loved. I sighed happily. I was home until at least mid-January. I finished flossing my teeth and went to throw the string in the trash when I noticed a note in the trash.

Taylor,

I hope I got everything you wanted and I hope Cleo was surprised. I’m glad you called me to help you with this, because there isn't anything I wouldn't do for that angel. My baby has sounded so stressed the last couple of times I talked to her. She is lucky to have someone like you who loves her so much. Be well and continue to treat my baby like a princess…

Love, Mama Margaret

I smiled to myself. Taylor was completely willing to let Margaret take all the credit for my home being fully stocked, filled with roses and cleaner than it had been in a long time. I stood in the door of the bathroom and watched him as he lay facing the bathroom door. He looked so young with his eyes closed. I reached back and switched off the light. At the click, Taylor’s eyes fluttered open. “I’m so tired.” He whispered.

“I know baby,” I said as walked over to the bed. Taylor lifted the blankets welcoming me into the warm sheets. I tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear, resting the back of my hand against his cheek. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“It can’t match how much I love you.” He said kicking a leg over me pulling me in close. He kissed me so softly, so gently. It was barely a kiss. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” I said sighing.

“Did you ever fall asleep last night?” Taylor asked.

“For a while,” I shrugged. “I think I knew we were almost home and I was itching to be here, to finally be able to sleep in my own bed.”

“Yeah, there is nothing like sleeping with the woman you adore utterly in the bed you made together.” Taylor said yawning.

“Thank you Buddha.” I said teasing him. At the word Buddha, his hand went to my belly. “Nothing in there… yet.”

“I know, but soon.” Taylor said his voice trailing off. He snored softly as he drifted off, but jerked back to wakefulness. “Sorry.”

“Just go back to sleep.” I said smiling at his eyes fighting to stay open.

“Okay,” he said his eyes fluttering shut again. I turned and spooned into him, his arm resting carelessly over me. Soon, I was in that strange netherworld between sleep and wakefulness. I loved the feeling of floating, the feeling of being surrounded by walls that lived and breathed love.

“Mommy?” The softest, lisping voice asked. I opened my eyes to see Annabelle standing in front of me. “Mommy, we’re home.”

“I know baby,” I said reaching out and touching her peaches and cream cheek.

“Can I sleep with you and daddy?” She whispered so softly.

“Of course love,” I said lifting the sheets and pulling her up in front of me. Taylor’s hand moved gently over Annabelle, holding both of us safe and warm. We slept that way for hours, each of us moving through whatever dreams came floating to the surface. Our sleep ebbing and flowing in concert, each of us knowing nothing could touch us because we were happy, safe and home.

When the day finally started, it was so different from the days on the road. We got up late and wandered downstairs. I made a big breakfast of waffles for all of us. Then we sat down and watched cartoons together while Annabelle did a pretty thorough inventory of her toys, before getting out her tea set and making her dad drink juice out of ridiculous little cups. I had to laugh as I listened to the banter back and forth. He gently teased her and she protested ineffectually her hands on her hips.

"Daddy, if I am Belle, you are the beast." She said her voice sounded so world weary and exasperated.

"But I don't want to be the beast," Taylor said from where he was lying on the couch. "Can't I be someone else? Can I be Gaston?"

"No, because Gaston is a bad guy." Annabelle said stomping her foot. "You have to be the prince."

"Fine, I'll be the prince. But who is mommy?" Taylor asked. I watched Annabelle from where I stood cleaning the kitchen. Her face was serious, her eyebrows knit together. "Is she Mrs. Potts?"

"No," Annabelle said her voice grave.

"No?" Taylor asked surprised. "Who is she?"

"She is the witch who casts the spell over the prince." Annabelle answered. I had to chuckle to myself at her expression. She acted like Taylor should have just known that I was evil.

"How come Mommy gets to be a bad guy?" Taylor asked sitting up and looking over at me. He could barely contain his laughter.

"Because Mommy is always the bad guy." Annabelle explained sounding so much like she was trying to explain something to a child smaller than her.

"Oh, okay," Taylor said standing up and stretching. He started to gather together the pieces of the tea set. Annabelle heaved a great sigh. Taylor smiled as he watched his exasperated daughter. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "What do you want to do baby?"

"Daddy, can I watch Jasmine?"

"Sure," he said sauntering over to the television and picking the appropriate DVD. Once he had the movie going, he picked up the tray from the tea party and brought it over to where I was finishing up breakfast. "Hey..."

"So, I'm the bad guy?" I asked kissing him quickly.

"There always has to be a bad guy." Taylor said as he wandered out of the room. Soon, I heard the sound of the piano filtering back in to me. I loved when he played for the pleasure of playing. Pretty soon, I noticed that the song sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I started up the stairs to take a shower when I realized that the song was something I knew. I backed down the stairs and stuck my head into the music room. There on the piano bench sat Taylor with Annabelle tucked up on his lap. She had somehow snuck past me and into the music room. I could hear her forgotten movie playing to an empty room behind me. I also knew she loved to sit with Taylor when he played the piano, so any sort of movie could wait. He was so patient and loving with her. She didn't even realize that most of the time what he was doing was teaching her how to play the piano.

I had to smile as she placed her tiny little hands over his large hands. Her fingers trying to spread out like his, hitting the notes to one of her favorite songs. It struck me again how alike they were in everything, looks, temperament, talent. He kissed the crown of her head. “Do you like that baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said as he played from memory the song that he sang to her over and over as a baby. “Sing to me.”

“Okay,” he said taking a deep breath, his breathing sounded as musical to me as any note. “A dream is a wish your heart makes / When you're fast asleep/ In dreams you will lose your heartaches / Whatever you wish for, you keep / Have faith in your dreams and someday / Your rainbow will come smiling thru / No matter how your heart is grieving / If you keep on believing / the dream that you wish will come true.”

From where I stood, I could see that one of her thumbs had found its way into her mouth. This was the hardest habit to break, but really, who could ruin this moment by telling her to pull it out? Definitely not me. I tiptoed out of the room and back over to the stairs, letting Taylor and Annabelle share their moment. I also have to admit, I was dangerously close to crying. On the road, I missed the quiet mornings with Taylor and Annabelle entertaining each other.

A short time later, I came back downstairs and moved the suitcases with all of our dirty clothes into the laundry room. I stood sorting them into neat piles on the floor, listening as Taylor patiently read story after story to Annabelle. His voice rising and falling, taking on different accents and tones. He populated all her favorite stories in a way that was so uniquely his. As he finished reading Love You Forever an unnatural silence, well at least for Annabelle, descended. I poked my head out of the laundry room and saw them sitting in their favorite recliner, leaned way back, their eyes closed and the book open across Taylor's chest. I loved that she only fought her naps if she had to take them alone. If one of us lay down with her, it was all okay.

A nap was a good idea since we would be leaving eventually to head to Cain’s for the show. The audience would be packed with people we knew and loved. And really, there would be no way that I’d get Annabelle to go out to the bus at a reasonable hour with everyone there. So, the more of a nap she got the better for everyone who had to deal with her, especially around midnight when we'd all be partying in the venue. I walked over and popped Annabelle’s thumb out of her mouth and smiled. I jumped when Taylor’s right eye popped open. He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said.

“Come here,” he said scooting over gently making room on the recliner for me. I slid into the tight spot he had made for me. This was true family closeness, but we'd all slept in a bunk on the bus before, so this was nothing new. I took the book off his chest and set it on the floor. He kissed me and sighed.

“Baby Bea fell asleep during her favorite story,” I said snuggling down into his chest.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Love you forever, love you for always, as long as I’m living, my lover you’ll be.”

“Don’t you ever forget it.” I said not really tired, but enjoying just being close. These were the moments I realized how blessed I truly am. My baby would not grow up and have to tell her father one warm fall morning that she had no idea whom he really was. There was no need to figure each other out; they understood each other. She spent almost every morning playing with her father as I did the things around the house I needed to do, the mommy things, the things that made me feel like an adult. Taylor’s complete willingness to help out was so welcome and something I loved, he told me before she was even born that he planned on spending as much time with her as humanly possible. And he had kept his word.

As my breathing deepened to match Taylor's, I realized that I was actually tired. My adoration swelled as I understood, not for the first time and definitely not the last, that I was as safe here as I would ever be. Taylor was warmth, security, safety and love. He and Annabelle were the best of friends. They knew each other and got each other. And she was learning insanely fast with Taylor as her teacher. Homeschooling had started early for her. I was a lucky woman. I truly had it all. These were my thoughts as I drifted off to sleep.

A few hours found me standing just inside the doorway of Cain’s ballroom. The tour was ending with a bang. This last show was in Tulsa on the 16^th of November in front of a sold out and truly appreciative crowd. I always find it so inspiring to see so many of the fans come from all over the world just to see the guys in their hometown. Cain’s Ballroom was always fun and crazy and this night was no exception. Every person I’d ever known was there, including my parents. My dad loved it; my mom said it was too loud. She groused over and over again about how I was destroying Annabelle’s hearing. But really, Annabelle isn’t allowed into the venue without her headphones on. Taylor and I convinced her that they were princess headphones by affixing rhinestones and a tiara to it. But hey, it did the job. So, Annabelle and I stood at the back of the venue together, me watching her like a hawk and her dancing with the fans wearing her pink headphones while the opening band played.

The throng was teeming with excitement. Voices rose and fell around me. Many of the girls who had snuck in cameras were taking pictures of Annabelle and I: some on the sly, others quite openly. I guess I understand our allure. We are the essential ingredients to Taylor’s happiness and the most direct inside track to getting to one of the boys they love so well. The conversations were harmless. Annabelle ate up all the attention. The gifts were non-stop and varied. Pretty soon, there was a fairly impressive pile of t-shirts, books, scarves, etc behind the merchandise counter.

I watched the people coming into the venue, so many different people, so many different shapes and sizes, so many unique personalities. But even as I began to lump all the fans into the “them” group, I also noticed their separate personalities. There were plenty of fans I recognized, girls that had been to so many shows, I knew their names and had things to talk to them about. Many of the familiar faces had little trinkets for Annabelle, little bracelets and necklaces that she gladly put on. These fans seemed to have the idea that because I knew their names that I considered them a friend. And really, in the end, it was nice to have people around who just wanted to have a civilized conversation. Of course, they also seemed to have the idea that I might have been a way to get backstage. I suppose the fact that the boys knew their names did give them some sort of cachè, but not necessarily with me. But beyond them, I noticed the clumps of fans standing around watching, waiting for something to happen.

There were fans dressed in their best, from the top of their heads down to their ridiculously high heels. They walked in hugging their arms tightly to their bodies, because a coat just didn’t go with the carefully thought out ensemble. These girls dressed to impress and to catch the attention of the people in the hall. Ironically, a lot of these girls seemed to come with a boyfriend sized appendage. Boys who looked so bored to be there, but when the music started, they would be tapping their feet along to the music. If only they could just admit they were enjoying themselves… But I know that will never happen.

There were fans who must have thought that the key to getting noticed was to dress as strangely and different as possible. But to be honest, I think many of them just liked to look like that. I noticed one girl in particular; she was standing with her friends, wearing an orange skirt, electric blue, knee-high socks and purple Doc Martens. But the more I watched her, the better I understood this was less of a costume than the girls dressed way up. She was settled amongst another group. The fans who had been around for as long as Hanson had existed, but they had grown. They were the college students, the college graduates, the girls with real jobs, the smart girls. I liked these fans; they were the ones I always had the best conversations with. They were generally older, but not as old as the adult women. These were the women who generally gathered at the back of the venue and chatted amiably about their families that they had left at home. With a few notable exceptions, they never screamed, they didn’t wait out by the bus, they listened respectfully during the music and they took care of the younger fans. Which brought me to the final group, the youngest fans. The young girls accompanied by their patient and long-suffering parents to their first concert. I smiled as they squealed excitedly. Their frantic conversations floating over to me as their words jumbled over each other. Their excitement came off of them like an intoxicating perfume.

I was watching one particular group of girls standing and talking. There was one girl in the middle of this enormous crowd who was very definitely the center. She was smiling and happy, talking animatedly with her hands; all the girls around her seemed to be hanging on her every word. I was enthralled by the way she formed words, the way they fell from her mouth, fully formed and so sure of their veracity. I couldn’t actually hear her, but I could tell that she spoke the truth and her disciples could too. I found myself stepping forward, inexplicably drawn to her. She was different from the rest of the throng, she had short, dark hair and deep, dark eyes. Her clothes weren’t like the rest of the girls either. She was dressed appropriately for the weather. I was now on the outer edge of the crowd, wanting to hear what she was talking about. Her accent sounded foreign and exotic to me, probably from somewhere in the Northeast. “I don’t know what you’re talking about… His voice is awesome...”

“I don’t know,” one of her cronies said shaking her head. “He sounded so tired when I saw him two weeks ago.”

“Oh please,” she said. Her voice wasn’t condescending at all, just very sure of the fact she knew the truth. “It’s like, you want that voice moaning in your ear during sex. That's what rock and roll is all about.”

“I don’t find Taylor sexy in the least…” Another girl interjected.

“Seriously, even if he doesn’t appeal to you,” she started, “you have to see that he is just liquid sex…”

I wanted to hear the rest of the conversation, but suddenly there was a heavy arm slung around my shoulders. I looked up into the face of Jarrod. “My God, there is more hair in this room than I thought possible. Even in a room filled with Hanson.”

“Well, isn’t that one of the hallmarks of a Hanson fan?” I asked hugging him, sad that I was going to miss the rest of the conversation, but really, I knew what she was saying was true. "Lots of long, straight hair."

“Where is my girlfriend?” Jarrod asked looking around.

"I’m sure Belle is around here somewhere.” I said a sinking feeling in my chest when I realized that in my eavesdropping, I’d lost sight of her. I felt the beginnings of panic setting in, my breath speeding up, a flush starting at my toes. “Annabelle?”

“What?” I heard her call back from over by the merchandise table. Her blonde curls bounced with the turn of her head. Of course, when she saw Jarrod, she wrapped her arms around his knees. Jarrod was the only man that made her turn away from her daddy. She had told me over and over that Jarrod was her boyfriend. A role he was more than willing to fill. “Jarrod!”

“Hey princess, you look gorgeous!” Jarrod said lifting her up into his arms. They were so funny to listen to as they chatted amiably about her fairy princess dress she was wearing.

“It’s pink!” Annabelle said smiling hugely, the same gap-toothed smile of her father.

“Well, that dress is simply faboo!” Annabelle was wearing this ridiculous pink, frothy thing that was far too small and flimsy for mid-November in Tulsa. But after a memorable tantrum, I had just given in. Sometimes, it’s just not worth the fight.

“Mommy almost didn’t let me wear it!” Annabelle said her bottom lip jutting out. I had given in eventually, but she did have on some serious tights and a turtleneck underneath it, so I guess in some respects, I won. “Uncle Ike wants to talk to you.”

“He does?” Jarrod said before he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Yeah, he told me so.” Annabelle said nodding her head sagely.

“Well, let’s go find him!” Jarrod exclaimed tossing Annabelle up into the air. “Cleo, do you have a pass for me?”

“Of course,” I said reaching into my back pocket. Since Jarrod had his hands full, I peeled the back off the sticker and stuck it to one of his thighs. “Go, find Ike.”

“Okay!” Annabelle crowed as Jarrod flipped her up onto his shoulders. I watched as they moved across the room, her pink headphones bobbing over the crowded venue. Her pink hands looked so delicate resting on Jarrod’s deep chocolate skin. I knew in my heart she was safe. I went on a quest for the fan, the intelligent fan, the girl whose words I had been hanging on earlier, but she was most definitely missing in action.

I wandered across the venue, quite literally running into people I knew with every step. It was fun and pleasant to see so many familiar faces, especially after months of being surrounded by strangers. The opening band was friends with the guys; but to be honest, the music was forgettable. I headed toward the bar. When I entered the bar, I saw Diana talking with some of the many, many Hanson or Lawyer relatives at the show. She smiled at me, but didn’t stop her comfortable conversation.

I decided that going backstage was my best choice, go and make sure my baby wasn’t making everyone crazy. I flashed my all-access pass at the security guy and pushed the door open. The backstage area had been arranged like an auditorium, all the chairs lined up in an arc. I noticed Taylor down on one knee in front of the assembly with a camcorder in front of him, recording the ballet being put on in front of them. Annabelle was dancing for everyone. Well, almost everyone. Isaac and Jarrod were standing off to the side having what looked like a deep conversation.

But really, I couldn’t be concerned with that. In front of me, my daughter was putting on her very own version of The Nutcracker. Everyone was watching and they seemed to be enjoying it. Anne had a look of pure delight on her face. She really did love Annabelle. Zac was sitting with his arm across the back of Anne’s chair, playing absently with her hair. He looked so sad and far away. I wanted to hug him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright. Emory watched her with her eyes shining with unshed tears. I hated that just watching Annabelle made her sad.

After a few minutes, I noticed Diana stifling a yawn, Anne’s father looking at his watch, Walker rubbing his eyes. Still Taylor was watching with rapt attention, a look of pride on his face. He smiled as she twirled her arms in the air. She really was much more graceful than I would have ever thought possible, especially with Taylor and I as her parents. Soon, I was as caught up in the dance as Taylor, glorying in this little gift that was all mine. As the song coming from the radio came to an end, she bowed, flipping her hair down and then back up, ending in her own version of fifth position.

Everyone clapped madly as Annabelle blew kisses to her adoring audience. I whistled my very loudest whistle. The shrill tone caught Annabelle’s attention. “Mommy!”

“Hey baby,” I said as she leapt into my arms. I stuck my tongue out at Taylor who was still recording.

“Did you see my dance?” She asked her eyes huge.

“Yes, and it was beautiful!” I said hugging her close. “You were perfect.”

She began to wiggle wildly as she wanted out of my arms. When she hit the ground, she was off, launching herself into Zac’s lap. He jerked in that way guys jerk when something comes too close to the family jewels. He and Anne began to laugh, both of them throwing their heads back in laughter. When they stopped laughing, Anne leaned forward and planted a kiss firmly on his lips. Her eyes fell shut, losing herself in the kiss, but his stayed open. It seemed almost like he was memorizing her face in that brief moment. When she pulled back he smiled sadly, running his finger along her cheek. Annabelle put her hand on Zac's cheek, patting softly. He turned to look at Annabelle, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. As Annabelle hugged him tightly, I saw a single tear caught in his eyelashes. He swiped at his eye.

He smiled wanly at me when he noticed me watching him. I smiled back, but I was so confused about what was wrong. Zac noticed me still watching him and raised an eyebrow at me. It was true that I was staring, so I wandered over towards the table laden with food. During the final weeks of the tour, Zac and I seemed to share a lot of meaningful looks, his eyes constantly sending me messages I just couldn’t decipher.

As I stood at the food services table with my back to my family, I noticed that I could still see Zac, Annabelle and Anne talking. It was strange seeing them so perfectly, but backward. Zac’s face danced with the conversation, but the wrong eyebrow raised, the wrong side of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile. And it occurred to me suddenly, that since that day in Salt Lake when he got the letter, it had felt like I was watching him move backward. It was like watching him through smoky glass. He was there, but indistinct and insubstantial. He smiled his backward smile at whatever it was Annabelle was saying. The smile was not only in reverse, but it was so sad, so melancholy. He hugged her tightly as Annabelle and Anne talked. I recognized the way he clung to her. Zac was clinging to Annabelle like a drowning man latching onto something that floats.

“Cleo, do you need help?” A voice said from somewhere way off.

“Excuse me?” I said pulling myself out of my reverie. Diana was standing next to me, a concerned look painted on her face.

“Do you need some help?” She said grabbing my hand.

“No, I was just thinking.” I answered trying to smile. I looked down at the empty plate in my hand.

“Are you okay?” She asked true concern in her voice. “You’ve seemed so preoccupied lately…”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I said smiling for real. “Diana, I’m fine. It’s just Tay and I have been talking about a lot of things, about changes…”

“Are you pregnant?” Diana asked a look of hope springing to her eyes.

“No, but soon.” I said laughing.

“Okay, as long as you’re fine.” She said grabbing the glass of soda she had just poured. “The show should be starting soon.”

“Yeah?’ I asked turning to see that the activity in the room had kicked up a notch. It occurred to me then just how strange everything was. The world was so random. Taylor and Isaac soon joined Zac, Anne and Annabelle and started talking. I could tell that they were making the setlist. That meant show time was just around the corner. Honestly, it was bizarre to watch them talk from across the room and know exactly what was being said.

I really needed to feed Annabelle before we went out to watch the show. She would be so crabby if I didn’t. So, I returned to the task at hand, preparing a plate of food for Annabelle and myself when her little arms wrapped themselves around my leg. “Hey beautiful! Are you hungry?”

“Yes!” She said emphatically. She grabbed my hand and pulled herself up, climbing just like her Uncle Zac had taught her. “I want cookies!”

“You can have cookies, but first, you have to eat a sandwich.” I said putting a sandwich on the plate. “And you have to eat some fruit and drink your milk.”

“I just want cookies for dinner,” she pouted as she wrapped her legs around my waist and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

“Well baby, it’s time to learn a hard lesson, you can’t always get what you want.” I said kissing her.

“Ah, but she can try,” Taylor said coming up behind me, sliding his hand around my waist. “Hey my loves.”

“Hi Daddy,” Annabelle said as Taylor kissed me, then her.

“Hey sunshine,” he said enfolding both of us in a huge hug. At times like this, I was glad that he was so tall and had such freakishly long arms.

“Are you going to go sing?” Annabelle asked reaching out and grabbing the in-ear monitor that was hanging down.

“I am,” Taylor said smiling.

“Will you sing the dream song?” Annabelle asked smiling sweetly.

“I sure will, when we get home after the show.” Taylor said smiling.

“Okay,” Annabelle said. The promise of her daddy singing to her was more than enough.

“Tay, come on!” Ike called from over by the stage door.

“Go, sing!” I said squeezing him.

“Okay,” Taylor said kissing me again. “I love you.” He kissed Annabelle again and smoothed his hand over her hair. "And I love you too!"

"Yes, you do," Annabelle said her eyes big and serious.

Taylor threw his head back and laughed as he headed towards where Isaac was standing. I turned to find a table to sit and eat and ran smack dab into Zac. "Oh, sorry..."

"For what?" Zac asked his eyebrows knitting together. He took the plate of food that I had almost dumped on the floor out of my hand.

"For running into you..." I said shrugging as I pulled out a chair for Annabelle.

"Cleo, I feel like Frodo..." Zac said softly as he leaned forward and set the food on the table.

"Excuse me?" I said straightening up.

"Here I stand at the end of all things," Zac said his eyes searching around the room. It was mostly empty and quiet now. The family had filtered out into the venue soon after Matt the roadie had gone out to tape the setlist onto the stage.

"What are you talking about?" I asked my confusion growing.

"Never mind," he said shrugging. He leaned forward and kissed Annabelle on the top of her head, before turning and walking towards the door. This was so not like Zac to talk in metaphors or similes... He was always straightforward, no nonsense, cutting through the vague bullshit speak of his brothers. He stopped, his hand on the door. Introspective Zac was not a wholly unknown being, but it was so rare. But if I was totally honest with myself, he had been very much this way during the last few weeks. He had gotten so quiet and solitary, spending insane amounts of time with Anne. He sighed as he pulled the door open. The noise from the ballroom came rushing in almost blocking out his final words to me. "Do you ever have the feeling that you are doing something for the last time?"

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