 |
I Got Drunk
Well, I got drunk
so sue me. It's not like I found someone
else I could hold, I got drunk so sue me. What gives you the right to stay
out all night, |
“Cleo…” Taylor said in my ear.
“What?” I asked not as happy to be surrounded by Taylor as his breath tickled my ear.
"I think there is someone at the door." Taylor said his breath falling hot and unpleasant on my cheek.
"No, there isn't." I said rolling over and away from the swamp that masqueraded as Taylor's mouth. "It was in your dream. Go back to sleep."
"No, seriously, there was someone knocking." Taylor insisted sitting up and taking the blankets with him.
"Okay, go answer it or lay back down." I said irritated. "You're letting all the warm out of the bed."
"What if it's a fan?" Taylor asked leaning over me, breathing the swamp into my face again.
"And what if it's the boogey man?" I asked scooting away from him. "And no one is knocking now, they've left."
"Whatever, but when the stuff on the porch is gone, you can't bitch about the teenies." Taylor said flopping back down and turning his back to me. He sighed deeply, wiggling around to get comfortable, putting his naked ass against my back, his ice-cold feet on my legs. We had finally both found a place that was comfortable, when I heard it. A soft, gentle knocking on the front door. "Cleo..."
"Fine, I'll go get the door." I said jumping out of bed. "But if it's a serial killer or mad-dog rapist, this is on your head."
I quickly pulled on the t-shirt Taylor had been wearing earlier and his dirty boxers. I hurried down the stairs, but the knocking had stopped again. The motion sensor lights on the driveway and front yard weren't on and I couldn't see anyone standing on the other side of the door. In fact, I couldn't see anything. It was a truly dark night and without the motion sensor light our street with no streetlights may as well been a black hole. I slipped into the living room and scoped it out. There was no one on the porch that I could see, but there was a car parked at an odd angle up on the park strip. I was craning my neck trying to see the bottom of the door. When the grandfather clock donged the half hour loudly in my ear. I squealed and jumped back, my heart pounding in my throat. It was 3:30 in the morning and a mystery ghost was knocking.
"Maybe," I mumbled to myself. "I can see the bottom of the front door from the laundry room."
I stood on my tippy toes and looked down towards the bottom part of the front door. I could see that there was a lump there and some shoes. But that is all. In fact, without my glasses on, I'm not sure what I thought I was going to see anyway. I sneaked back out into the foyer and stood there, my hand on the door handle trying to decide what to do. I mean, what if someone had been hurt in the car that was parked on my lawn? Or what if it was some psycho trying to lure me out of the house?
I put my hand on the doorknob and was about to just jump into the breach, when there was a hand on my shoulder. "HOLY SHIT!"
"Shh..." Taylor hissed as he handed me my glasses. It's eerie how well we know each other. "Don't wake up Belle."
"What are you doing down here?" I said pushing him away. "I thought you were going to sacrifice me to the crazies."
“No, I was just not thinking clearly when I sent you down…” Taylor said stretching. “So, who is it?”
“I’m not sure.” I whispered. “But check it out, there is a car parked on our lawn.”
Taylor leaned close to the glass in the door and squinted. “You know, I think that could be Zac’s car…”
Just then, there was a bang on the door causing both Taylor and I to jump back and yell. “Who is it?” I hissed at Taylor.
“I don’t know, but they are obviously laying on our front porch.” Taylor said pulling me farther into the house.
“All well and good, but what if it is Zac?” I asked.
“Goddamn it!” Taylor cursed quietly. “Why did he pick tonight to be an ass?”
“Tay, baby, he doesn’t get to pick the time or the place.” I said kissing him. “It just comes naturally.”
The bang repeated. ”Shit,” Taylor muttered. “Who is it?”
“S’me…” a very drunk voice slurred.
“Zac?” Taylor asked unlocking the door and pulling it open. Zac fell into the house, looking a lot worse for wear. “Geez, did you take on the whole bar?”
“Huh?” Zac asked craning his neck up. “Oh hey! Tay! And Cleo! What are you doing here?”
"Doing here?" Taylor asked reaching down and grabbing the front of Zac's jacket. "The question is more, what are you doing here?"
"Hey, yeah..." Zac said looking around. I gasped when I saw how swollen his face was. "This is your house."
"Zac, are you okay?" I asked reaching out to smooth his hair back out of his eyes, but finding it stuck to his forehead with something sticky.
"I'm fine, what could be wrong." Zac asked turning towards me and stumbling, landing heavily against me. I was propping him up. His breath in my face was next to toxic. "Cleo, you look well fucked..."
"Zac!!" I said pushing him. He landed hard on the floor. "You unbelievable asshole!"
"Zac, I think you need to stop for a minute." Taylor said stopping me from landing on him with my claws out. "Maybe you should apologize to Cleo."
"Aw, but it's true." Zac said raising his eyebrow. "She always looks like she just had a tumble... It's a wonder you can even walk..."
"You know what? I don't care if you are trying to kill yourself." Taylor said through clenched teeth. "But I would appreciate it if you would look to be beaten to death somewhere other than my living room and by someone other than my wife."
"Damn, you must not have had sex." Zac said sliding away from my swinging foot. "Or you'd be in a better mood."
"Cleo, stop." Taylor said grabbing me around the waist and holding me off the ground. "He's baiting you."
"Yeah, Cleophus, listen to Tay..." Zac said giggling. "Let him think for a split second that he wears the pants in this family."
"Okay, that's it." Taylor said reaching down and grabbing Zac under his arms. "Cleo, make some coffee. Zac, let's go cool off."
I watched as Taylor dragged Zac through the family room and out the French doors. The whole time Zac was struggling and flailing his arms out, but with Taylor behind him, he was completely ineffectual. I opened the cupboard to get the coffee, when I heard the splash, followed by Zac yelling about how cold it was. I rushed into the laundry room and grabbed a couple of towels, they felt warm and smelled clean.
"Cleo, can you bring..." I walked out of the laundry room to find Taylor helping Zac take off his clothes on the patio. "You read my mind."
"Actually, I was just thinking about the new Persian rug in the family room." I said handing Taylor the towels. Zac had stripped down to his boxers. I could see that he really was pretty beat up. He had bruises on his torso and back, his forehead had a deep cut down it, his lower lip was split and his jaw was beginning to swell. I had a sneaking suspicion that some of his teeth could be loose. But the crowning glory was his very black left eye. "Jeez Zac, did you take on the whole bar?"
"I don't know." Zac said accepting the towels. "But whatever I did, it's starting to hurt. I don't seem to be able to bend the fingers of my left hand."
"You broke it again?" I asked taking the wet clothes from Taylor.
"Yeah, I think it was when I slugged the wall." Zac said softly.
"You need to stop hitting walls, little brother." Taylor said as he started filling the coffee maker. "Cleo can call her dad in the morning."
"I'll stick your clothes in the washer." I said dropping the bundle of very wet clothes on the laundry room floor. I snagged some clean clothes of Taylor's off the counter where they sat folded, waiting to be taken upstairs. I placed the pile of clothes on the island directly in front of Zac. "Well, except for your leather jacket..."
"Tay, I hope you know you're gonna pay for that jacket." Zac said his voice much more subdued and calm than it had been when the door had first been opened. I heard the door to the bathroom squeak mostly shut as Zac went in to change into dry clothes.
"Not bloody likely," Taylor said as he hit the start button on the coffee maker. The door squeaked back open, then I heard Zac pad back over towards the island. He harrumphed in pain as he climbed into one of the stools.
The two of them sat in silence at the island not able to think of anything to say to each other. I was pretty sure both of them had a lot to say, but it was all just silence. Since the conversation was so scintillating, I decided to go and get the clothes in the washer. I went through his pockets, finding a veritable treasure trove of stuff. The pile on the counter was actually impressive and unfortunately held his cell phone. He was going to be pissed if it was ruined. As I went to put his pants in the washer, some change I'd missed went tinkling down into the enamel tub. I reached down and fished it out. But, it wasn't change; it was Anne's ring. I sighed as I slipped it on my finger. I really was going to miss her.
I took his wallet and opened it, hoping that everything was still in tact. I pulled the cash and credit card receipts out, laying them flat. I set his wallet down next to it and stopped. I pulled out his driver's license. Zachary W. Hanson. But that wasn't what caught my eye. It was the one behind it. There partially hidden was a license that read J. Taylor Hanson. I flipped it over in my hands checking out the handiwork. Whoever had made this fake ID had done a really good job, other than the picture of Zac (looking particularly Taylor-esque); it fully could have been Taylor's actual driver's license. I had always wondered how Zac was able to procure alcohol or get into bars and clubs before he was twenty-one. In my hands, I held the answer. I was pretty sure that Taylor wouldn't see the humor in this. But really in the end, it wasn’t my job to tell him.
I walked out of the laundry. The kitchen smelled strongly of dark, rich coffee. Taylor was leaning across the island, his eyes tired and faraway. Zac was perched on a stool, his fingers absently tracing the grout. He held his left hand against him, shielding it from the vagaries of the world. In the light of the kitchen, his face looked bad, but better. The dip in the pool had washed off much of the blood. And the bruises were just starting to form. Well, most of them were just starting to form, the black eye was fully formed and painful looking. I watched him for a moment before he felt my gaze. His eyes locked with mine. There was no mirth there.
"Cleo, I'm sorry." He said flatly, wincing as he moved his split lips.
"I guess there are worse things to be called." I said sliding up next to Taylor. His bare back spread before me, wide and strong. "So, where did you go tonight?"
"Umm..." Zac said his eyes taking on a surprised look. "American Bush."
"Ah, a strip club." I said smirking. American Bush had been the scene of mine and Taylor's worst moment. I felt him tense slightly at those words.
"Well, then it's lucky that you're twenty-one, isn't it?" I asked.
"Cleo, seriously, I'm sorry." Zac said as I handed him a pile of credit cards, club cards and ID’s.
"So am I." I said.
His drunken state made him drop most of what I’d handed him onto the counter. I noticed that the ID fell face up on the counter in front of Taylor.
"What the..." Taylor said picking it up. "What the fuck is this?"
"Tay, don't be mad." Zac began.
"Jesus Zac!" Taylor said grasping the ID. "You had a fake ID made with my info?"
"I don't use it anymore." Zac said holding up his hands.
"Well yeah, you're twenty-one now." Taylor said putting his hands in his hair.
"I'm sorry." Zac said his lip trembling.
"What would have happened if you had been busted or pulled over drunk or something with this?" Taylor asked looking at it. "You so could have fucked up my life."
"I just didn't think." Zac said big tears gathering along the rim of his lashes. It seemed like he suddenly realized that he might have screwed things up with his last friend. "I guess I did it because people are always saying they can't tell us apart and I needed an ID in LA."
"Well, forgive me, but I'm destroying this." Taylor said shaking his head. “Seriously, you never cease to amaze me.”
“I’m really sorry.” Zac muttered. “But then again, I’m always sorry.”
“The thing is…” I started feeling my anger growing. “Why do you constantly do things for which you will have to be sorry? Can’t you just think before you act?”
“Oh, like you?” Zac asked cocking an eyebrow in my direction.
“No, this is not about me.” I said putting my hands on my hips. “This is about you and your crazy ass. One day, we’ll talk about my crazy inability to connect my actions with my brain.”
“Fortunately, your actions don’t often lead to you bleeding and broken.” Zac said wincing as he shifted.
Taylor set a cup of steaming black coffee in front of Zac. “Drink this.”
“Okay,” Zac said picking up the mug and sipping the hot liquid. “God, I hate this shit.”
“Well, I think you need to sober up a little before you head home.” Taylor said getting into one of the kitchen cabinets and digging around until he found a bottle of Tylenol. He dumped two in his hand and handed them to Zac. “Take these, you’ll thank me.”
“Thanks, but I’m not going home.” Zac said quietly.
“What?” I asked not sure if I’d heard him correctly.
“I’m not going back there.” Zac repeated. “I was thinking I’d get on a plane and go to New York. I mean, there isn’t anyone in the brownstone and I just need to get away.”
“Why?” Taylor asked his brow knitting together.
“Because, I just don’t know what to believe anymore.” Zac said. He turned the cup of black coffee around on the counter. “I feel like everything in my world was turned upside down.”
“Zac…” I started putting my arm across his waist, hugging him loosely.
“Cleo, you don’t get it.” Zac said tiredly. “All my life… I mean it, all my life, I’ve been this part of a whole…”
“I get that.” I said my arm tightening around his waist. Oh, that is one thing that I got, being a part of a whole.
“I was respected for being a part of this unit.” Zac said ignoring my interjection. “I was twelve and being asked for my opinion by people who were easily double my age, often triple. I was allowed to sign my name to legal and binding contracts. I could get whatever I wanted just by asking for it… I was an adult in the eyes of so many. A short, loud adult.”
“Don’t forget obnoxious.” Taylor said attempting badly to add a hint of humor. His reward was a very dirty look from Zac. “Sorry.”
“But, the minute I got home, I was expected to be a twelve year old again.” Zac said his voice soft and distant. The drunken slur still there under the words, but not as pronounced as before. “I was expected to go from being the decision maker to being told what to do. And really, it wasn’t that bad, at first. But as I got older, it just got harder and harder to stomach the fact that I was being told what to do, when to do it, how to do it… All in a house that I bought.” At this Taylor made a sound, I know that they had all agreed to give the house to his parents as a gift. And that none of them would ever consider the house to be theirs but always their parents. And, I knew that Isaac and Taylor didn't claim any part of the house. Oh sure, Isaac and Emory built there house on the land and plots were set aside for Taylor and I and Zac and Anne if we wanted them. “You see Tay, both you and Ike moved out, got your own places. And I was left there, still being told that I had a curfew and chores to do. Honestly, I provided the roof over their heads, wasn’t that enough?”
“Zac, you are looking at it all wrong,” Taylor started.
“Am I?” He demanded.
“Yeah,” Taylor continued. “It wasn’t to punish you or to make you feel like a child, but it was so that they could maintain a normal household. They needed all of us to contribute to the way the house was run so that the younger kids wouldn’t think that we were privileged and above the rules. Because, no matter who you are or what you’ve done, you are still a part of the family.”
“Fine, that’s all fine.” Zac said quickly waving his hand back and forth. “All I asked was for my space to respected. I had asked Mom over and over again to leave my stuff alone, to respect my privacy. And she just can’t. She is incapable of keeping her nose out of my life and personal things. When I’d finally had enough, I left. I went to LA, by myself. I needed my own space to do my own thing.”
“Yeah and your own thing almost brought you back to Tulsa in a body bag.” Taylor said a note of mourning in his voice. I wasn't sure how much Taylor knew about Zac's trip to Los Angeles, but it must have been a lot more than I knew. I felt left out of the loop, but also strangely comforted that Taylor had maintained Zac's secret. He was a good man. “You left without telling anyone where you were going. You don’t answer your cell phone for weeks. That is you doing your own thing?”
“It was what I needed to do.” Zac said quietly. He breathed deeply the steam from the coffee cup he clutched in his hand. I could feel how irregularly he was breathing. “I needed my own space. I didn’t mean for it to all get so bad. I just needed space.”
“What are you going to do now?” Taylor asked concerned.
“I don’t know.” Zac shrugged. I was beginning to worry that he would hyperventilate his breathing was so labored and uneven. I began to rub his back, soothing him, calming him. I caught Taylor's eye and scrunched up my face, hoping he understood that I was concerned, that Zac was actually scaring me.
“Why don’ t you crash here tonight and then go home tomorrow morning.” Taylor suggested.
“I can’t.” Zac said his voice catching. “I just can’t…”
“You can too. We have an extra bedroom.” Taylor said softly.
"No, I'm not sure I can go home." Zac whispered. It was almost like he didn't want to say the words because then it would make it all true.
“Just go home and tell mom you’re sorry.”
"The problem is that I'm not sorry. Seriously this was like the last straw. Mom is amazing, but...” Zac said his voice barely above a whisper. I put my head down on his shoulder. "Anne was the last, best thing in my life. And now, she's gone."
"You don't know that." I said as I began to softly rub his back. I could feel the knots of tension just below the t-shirt he had on, burning almost like a fever. It was his inner turmoil made manifest. "I'll call her, talk to her..."
"Thanks," he said putting his hand on my cheek. "God, I'm going to miss her."
Taylor came around the island and pulled Zac into a hug. "We'll work it out. We'll work it all out..."
"Uncle Zac, are you going to hit my Daddy?" I heard a soft voice ask reverently from over by the door. Annabelle stood there in a t-shirt borrowed from Zoë, her fingers twisting in the fabric. Her eyes were enormous as she watched the three of us together.
"Oh no, baby..." Zac said disengaging from Taylor and I. He went over and knelt in front of her, getting down on her level. He smoothed her hair and then pulled her into a gentle hug. Taylor made a quiet sound deep in his throat as Zac comforted her. I looked at Taylor and saw tears standing in his eyes. "I love your daddy, I would never hurt him."
"Does Grandpa not love you?" She asked hooking her legs around his waist as he lifted her up with his one good arm.
"Of course Grandpa loves Zac!" Taylor said his voice tremulous.
"But, he hitted Zac!" Annabelle said her little fingers playing softly over the bruises on Zac's face.
"Yeah, he did." Zac said gently setting Annabelle on the counter. He kissed her on the end of her nose, his hand cupping her chin. "But I don't think he meant it."
"You stink!" She said scrunching up her nose in distaste.
"I do, I really do." Zac said hugging her close.
"Okay, come on princess." Taylor said lifting her out of Zac's arms. "I'm going to put you back to bed while Mommy puts Uncle Zac to bed."
"Are you going to read him a story?" Annabelle giggled as she imagined me tucking him in and sitting on the side of his bed reading him a bedtime story. "Maybe she can sing you a song."
"Maybe," Zac said as we all trudged upstairs.
Taylor and Annabelle ducked into her room while Zac and I continued upstairs to the guest room that was in the garret. I sighed; the bed wasn’t made up. “Let me run downstairs and get some sheets.”
“It’s okay,” Zac said yawning. “I can sleep on the bed like that.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I said as I bounced down the stairs. I quickly gathered some sheets and pillows out of the linen closets. Zac was crashed out on the loveseat when I came back in the room. I started to make the bed as quietly as possible sure that he was fully passed out.
“So, do you really think she’ll forgive me?” Zac asked as I was tucking in the top sheet and blankets.
“Holy shit!” I said jumping up and putting my hand over my heart. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Naw, just watching you.” Zac said sighing. “I wasn’t entirely sure you knew how to do any housework.”
“Ha ha.” I said rolling my eyes. “How do you think my house stays so clean?”
“I guess I’ve never thought about it.” Zac said shrugging. “I guess I just thought you had a maid or something.”
“I don’t have a nanny, why would I have a housekeeper?” I asked unfolding the quilt I used as a bedspread.
“I don’t know.” He said softly. “I don’t know… So, do you think she’ll take me back?”
“Anne?” I asked stalling the answer. He nodded, shifting a little as I settled onto the loveseat next to him. “I’m going to be completely honest here… No, I don’t think so.”
“That’s what I thought.” Zac said softly, his voice breaking at the end into a sob. “Cleo, I hurt.”
“I know.” I said pulling him into a hug. "Is it your hand?"
"No, it's all over." He sobbed into my shoulder. "But I think it's the insides that hurts the worst."
"I know." I said kissing him on the shoulder as he cried softly into my shoulder.
“It’s like everyone always talks about the woman, but let me tell you, this was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever had to do.” Zac said into my shoulder. “And you know what sucked the worst? No matter what, I was basically fucked.”
"How so?" I asked rubbing my hands through his damp hair. He smelled good and clean, like fabric softener and chlorine, but there was an underlying sour to him. He was beery and warm, but his weight felt almost melancholy.
"It's a catch-22." Zac said his eyes closing. "If Symphony had the baby, my life with Anne was ruined because she'd never forgive me. But if she didn't have it, I couldn’t forgive myself. What could I do? What would you do?"
"I honestly don't know." I said softly. "But, I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it?"
"No," he said wiggling around until his head was in my lap. He sighed as his eyes searched my face. I looked at the various bruises in growing stages on his face. His eyes stayed closed longer and longer with each blink. Once, I was sure he was asleep; I traced the cut along his hairline. It was swollen and sore looking. I suspected it wasn't from a bottle, but from falling face first into something. He snuffled gently as he turned his head. I looked at him, seeing his perfect profile and noticing just how young he looked. Younger than his twenty-one years. But he also looked so sad, like someone who had seen too much for too long. What had he done in LA? What was so unforgivable that to this day he was still torturing himself? I wanted to pull him up to me, pull him into my lap, rock him like I would Annabelle if she were this sad. The sadness really did make him look like the little boy I had always known. I leaned forward and kissed his forehead, my hair tickling his face.
I don't know how long I sat running my fingers through Zac's messy hair, but it didn't seem like very long at all. Eventually, I heard someone creeping up the stairs. I knew it had to be Taylor. He smiled wearily as he came into view. "You coming to bed?"
"Oh yeah," I said shifting. "Can you help me get him in the bed?"
"Sure," Taylor said folding back the blankets. He came over and shook Zac's shoulder. "Dude, we're here, time to get into bed."
Zac's tired eyes fluttered open for a split second. "Okay," he said before hauling himself to his feet and basically falling face first into the open bed. Taylor quickly folded the blankets over him then took his watch off and set it on the bedside table next to the bottle of water he'd brought up with him.
"Let's go to bed," Taylor said grabbing my hand, after inspecting his sleeping brother for a minute.
"Okay," I yawned wordlessly following him.
"You saw the cut on his forehead, do you think he needed stitches?" Taylor asked as we both collapsed onto our bed.
"No, I don't." I said as Taylor gathered me into his arms again. "But, I will call my dad tomorrow morning about his hand."
"What a dumbass. You would think that he'd think before breaking something that makes his money." Taylor said softly. He sighed deeply; it was all too much for him to understand. "So, how was he?"
"I'm not sure." I answered. "He's in a lot of pain."
"Well, he's pretty beat up..."
"No, emotional pain." I said sighing. "He's so heartbroken and torn apart... It's killing me."
"Isn't amazing that a baby that won't even be born has affected so many lives?" Taylor said quietly. "You know, when he came home from LA and we had the band meeting, I thought, "my boy, you've really fucked yourself over." I figured there would be repercussions but this was just not in what I considered to be the realm of possibilities."
"So, you know what happened in LA?" I asked surprised, but not.
"Yeah." Taylor said quietly. "He asked both Ike and I to not tell anyone. He said he would talk to those who needed to know when the time was right."
"As long as he's alive and well, it doesn't matter." I said wondering what happened, but also understanding his reluctance to share his story with the world. "I guess the important thing is that no one died..."
"Don't you see?" Taylor asked his voice urgent. "Someone did die!"
"Zac killed someone?" I asked propping myself on my elbows. "No way..."
"He let that girl kill his baby." Taylor said his eyebrows pulled together. "He blithely murdered his own flesh and blood by not contacting her."
"You're wrong." I said settling onto my arms on Taylor's chest.
"He called her?" Taylor asked a spark of hope shining in his eyes.
"No," I said. Taylor began to interrupt but I just talked over him. "You're wrong that he made the decision blithely. He told me that the choice was one of the hardest things he's ever had to do. He knew that one would ruin his life with Anne and the other would just ruin his life...” I stopped. He had said just that, but he hadn't even implied which choice he'd made. "It's not all that clear..."
"What's not clear?" Taylor asked.
"All of this." I said putting my head on his chest.
"It is totally clear to me." Taylor said full of self-righteous surety.
"Is it?" I asked raising my head again.
"Yes, it's a life, a baby." Taylor said shrugging, his hands smoothing over my arms.
"Okay, so you're saying the life of the baby is more important than the effect her existence will have on the lives of those around her." I said trying to make sure I fully understood him.
"Well, yeah." Taylor answered.
"Okay, hypothetical situation," I said. "I'm pregnant with Annabelle. And we're all excited; I've somehow gotten over my shock. We hear the heartbeat, I feel the baby move... Then they discover that there is something desperately wrong. And it comes down to either my life or hers, what do you decide?"
"That isn't even a fair comparison." Taylor protested. "How can you even ask me to compare..."
"Because, in the end it's the exact same thing!" I said pushing myself up into a sitting position. "You are being asked to choose between the woman you love and a baby you made! What choice would you make?"
"I would choose you." Taylor said sitting up too. "There is no question."
"No question?" I asked not sure he meant it.
"Well, no question then..." Taylor said slowly.
"I'm glad you said that, since now I know you have no real objectivity. Now I want you to look at it from Zac's perspective," I said lowering my voice. I reached out and grabbed both his hands in mine. "He felt like he was faced with either losing Anne or losing the baby. And he chose the woman he loves."
Taylor just sat there looking at me for a long time, his blue eyes searching my face, his hands gripping and releasing mine. I could practically see his thought processes, see the way the words I'd just said were slowly clicking. He sighed. "My God, that is such a no win situation."
"That's what I'm trying to tell you." I said quietly.
"I would die without you." He said pulling me to him, wrapping me completely in his arms. "But I can't imagine life without my baby. If you had never had her, I suppose I wouldn't know what I'm missing, but...” His deep breaths became irregular and choppy. "I would die without you, but I would die for her."
"I know baby." I said into his neck.
"Poor Zac." Taylor sobbed.
"I know." I said letting him just cry. Soon, we found ourselves wrapped in a cocoon of each other. Each of us finding and offering comfort in our own way, limbs and tears and murmured words. And somewhere in the distance, the grandfather clock letting us know it was 5:00 am.
"You know Cleo," Thad said from the couch. "You know what I think is just such a load of bullshit?"
"What is that?" I asked pouring each of us a huge glass of iced tea.
"All of this..." He said moving his hands around taking in the whole house. "All of this is such a load of shit. It's all just a dream."
"No, it's not." I said sitting down. "It's all real, I picked it all out."
"Oh, it's real enough." Thad said knocking on the coffee table. "It's what you've convinced yourself is real that is a load of shit."
"What?" I asked again. He was totally confusing me.
"Cleo, you stand on your high moral ground, talking about right and wrong and how everyone should be allowed to make their choices." He said sipping the tea.
"Well, I do believe that a woman should have the right to choose." I protested. "And we know next to nothing about this girl. She could be a drug addict, HIV positive, pretty much anything."
"Or, she could just not understand the impact that one life can have." Thad said quietly. "If you were faced with the choice of me coming back and you never having Belle, what would you choose?"
"That isn't even a fair question!" I protested. "It has nothing to do with this situation."
"It has everything to do with this situation." Thad said shaking his head. "The sixteen year old you is asked: Your brother is about to die, but you can save him. But in doing so, you will never have your firstborn child. A little girl, who will look like sunshine, laugh like rain, be your reason for living. This child will so completely fill your life, you will never need another thing to be happy, ever. But the only way you can have her is if your brother dies..."
"I don't think that would have made any sense to me at sixteen." I answered quietly. "I would have given anything to have you back..."
"Isn't it funny how things change." Thad said hugging me tightly.
"I loved you like crazy." I said into his chest. "And given the choice to save you, I would have. No questions asked."
"So, there it is. I come back. But it would change everything." Thad said quietly. "You get me back, but you end up marrying Isaac. Emory becomes just a sweet memory of the one and only time Isaac cheats on you. Zac would have never gotten as sick, so he would have never met Anne. Marci would have gotten her claws so firmly into Taylor that he wouldn’t have known if he was coming or going. He would have become someone that you didn't like, a jaded, bitter man. He would be the one that had to be retrieved from LA.”
“No way, Taylor is too smart for that.” I said shaking my head. “Anyway, Marci was in love with you.”
“No, she’s in love with the idea of me.” Thad said sighing. “What she always wanted was Taylor…”
“Whatever.” I said reaching out and plucking at his curls. “Marci says you were her one true love.”
“Regardless,” he said shrugging. “But honestly, you would have been with Isaac and both you and Taylor would have pined away for each other. You stuck in a loveless marriage and in love with your husband’s brother. You would have loved those children, but not the way you love the princess.”
“Do you really think so?” I asked in all earnestness.
He opened his mouth to answer but I didn’t hear what he had to say because the phone started ringing. “Hold that thought…”
“Hello?” I mumbled into the phone.
“Cleo?” A female voice asked. In my foggy mind, I was struggling to recognize the voice. But, of course it was a voice I knew as well as my own. “I’m sorry to call so early…”
“No, it’s okay.” I said rolling over to check the time. 7:16 am. It really was early.
“Is Zac there?” Diana asked her voice filled with panic.
“Yes.” I said yawning. Taylor’s eyes fluttered open momentarily, before falling shut again.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to make sure he went somewhere with people I trust.”
“He’s upstairs.” I mumbled. “Want me to get him?”
“No, I can rest now knowing he’s okay.” She said softly. “Go back to sleep.”
“Okay.” I said putting the phone back in the cradle. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye.
“Who was that?” Taylor mumbled his face still smashed into his pillow.
“Your mom.” I yawned. “Looking for Zac.”
“Hmm…” Taylor grumbled as he pulled me back into the cocoon we’d created. “Go back to sleep.”
But, it wasn't that easy. My mind was racing. Had Zac done the right thing? What was the right thing? What if this baby had been the one person who could cure cancer? What if his baby would have brought all of us together? What if...
After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning, I decided to just get up. I went down and finished the interrupted laundry from the day before, losing myself in the mindless task of sorting, treating, washing, folding. I started a fresh pot of coffee and settled at the counter to sort through the monumental pile of mail. Again, I was totally amazed how some fans managed to get our home address, but honestly, I shouldn’t have been. They were always waiting for us when we came home from shows or appearances. Over time, they had learned to respect our privacy. Still mixed in with all of the junk mail and bills, I found not one, not two, but twenty-four wedding invitations. But that was pretty normal. As a general rule, we get about seven or eight wedding invitation/graduation announcements a month and we’ve been on the road for a little over three months.. I put them all aside, I would get the guys to sign a card and send them back with congratulations.
Around 9:30, Annabelle joined me. She was sleepy eyed and hungry, but in a surprisingly good mood. Her sweet voice chirped at me endlessly as I busied myself with whatever I could find to do. She told my dad an abbreviated and very dramatic version of last nights events. She made herself a very messy bowl of cereal as I set up an appointment for Zac in the afternoon. She sat at the table and ate her breakfast as I answered some emails and read the random comments about the show at Cain’s. I found a lot of pictures of the whole family plastered all over the place. But, no worries, none of the pictures made me look totally hideous and really, there were a few that I bookmarked. I looked pretty good; I had that post something glow to me. And there was one picture of Emory carrying a sleeping Annabelle that was priceless.
“Mama?” Annabelle asked as I pulled on a clean shirt. Her hair was wild, but really, there was not a lot that could be done with it, yet. That was a battle all it’s own.
“Yes baby.” I said as she stepped into the clean skirt I held out for her.
“Do you love me?” She asked very seriously as I set her on a chair and started pulling on her tights.
“Of course!” I exclaimed. “I love you like nothing else.”
“Does Granddad Walker love Zac?” She asked.
“Of course he does.” I answered wiggling her shoe back and forth, wedging the patent leather Mary Jane onto her chubby foot.
“Okay,” she said thoughtfully. She didn’t protest at all when I picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. I set her on the sink and got out my accoutrements of torture. She didn’t even flinch when I started spraying her curls so I could comb through them. I watched her grave face in the mirror, her thumb sneaking into her mouth, her eyes enormous as I began the tedious process of getting the snarls out of her curls. She didn't cry or wiggle once as I worked the comb through them. She didn't once try to push my hand away as I painstakingly wove her hair into two matching French braids. As I put a rubberband on her second braid, she popped her thumb out of her mouth. "Mommy, would you ever hit me?"
"What?" I asked as I lifted her off the counter.
"Would you hit me and knock me down like Granddad?" She asked her face very serious.
"No baby, I wouldn't." I said setting her on the edge of the island. Her face was a study in seriousness. Something deep was happening behind her eyes.
"Would Daddy?" She asked her brows furrowed. The look on her face making her look so much like Taylor it almost took my breath away.
"Oh no baby," I said shaking my head. "Daddy wouldn't even be able to spank you!"
"Why did Granddad hit Zac?" She asked.
"Well, he was mad at him." I said trying to think of a way to explain something that was the greatest trauma of her young life.
"You get mad at me." She kindly pointed out.
"I do." I said feeling the hole getting deeper, the slope getting slipperier.
"But, you don't hit me." Annabelle said solemnly.
"No, I don't." I said hugging her, wanting nothing more than to keep her from ever having to be scared of anything. I pulled her into a tight hug, holding her tight, smelling her essential odor, wanting more than anything to envelope her, pull her into me and protect her forever. I wanted nothing more than to be able to keep her safe from the world forever. "And I won't let anyone ever hurt you. I promise you...”
"That's a pretty big promise." Zac said from where he stood on the stairs.
"Hi Uncle Zac!" Annabelle said struggling out of my arms. "You slept over!"
"I did." Zac said hugging her gingerly.
"Hey," I said pouring him a large cup of coffee. “I made an appointment with my dad for you this morning.”
“Thanks,” Zac said accepting the Tylenol I handed him.
“Zac, you look bad!” Annabelle said moving his hair off his face. Her chubby finger poking gently at the cuts and bruises on his face.
“I feel bad baby.” Zac said sighing deeply. "How long until we go see your dad?"
"We should leave in the next half an hour or so." I said. "My dad said to get there early because he absolutely needs x-rays."
"Grandpa?" Annabelle asked her eyes lighting up. My father was actually the only person in this world that made her forget Taylor was in the room. "You're going to see Grandpa?"
"Yes, we are." I said knowing what was coming next.
"Can I come?" She asked looking up at me with her enormous blue eyes. I melted momentarily. But really, there is no way she could come.
"Not this time." I said watching the gleam in her eye tarnish.
"But I want to come." She said her lip sliding out.
"I'm sorry, but Zac is going to the doctor and you can't be there." I said tweaking her nose.
"Why?" Annabelle demanded.
"Belle, I'm not even going to see Grandpa." I said feeling a full on tantrum building. "Zac hurt his hand and Grandpa is going to fix it."
"I can help!" Annabelle said getting excited. "He let me help before..."
"Not this time sweetie." I said shaking my head.
"But I want to go!" She said her lip quivering.
"I know, but if you come with us, who will stay home and watch Daddy?" I reasoned. "You know how much he hates to be home alone."
Zac grinned momentarily before wincing as the smile pulled on his split lip. "Taylor doesn't like to be home alone?"
"No, he's scared of being alone." Annabelle said in a sage voice. Sometimes, I was completely blown away by the fact that my tiny little baby had somehow grown into this too smart for her own good child. I knew that she was horribly spoiled. I knew that the rest of the world probably looked in and were disgusted by the way everyone around her doted on her. But really, she was a gift.
"He is?" Zac asked way too amused by the idea of Taylor afraid of being home alone.
"So is Mommy!" Annabelle exclaimed.
"I am, you're right." I agreed.
"I'm gonna go wake up Daddy!" Annabelle said as she jumped out of Zac's lap. She hopped up the stairs singing Lost Without Each Other badly. Her skirt flipped and twirled with her elaborate dance.
"She is amazing." Zac said, his eyes soft and far away. "I always imagined that Anne and I would have lots of little ones just like her."
"I know," I said wanting to reassure him that Anne would come back, but just not finding it in my heart to lie to his sorry hungover ass.
"Are my clothes dry?" Zac asked his eyes popping back into sharp focus.
"Yeah, they are..." I said walking into the laundry room and getting his clothes off the dryer. "Your shoes aren't all the way dry though and your leather jacket... It's a lost cause."
"Dang," he said accepting the pile of clothes. "I really loved that jacket."
"I agree, that sucks." I said as he disappeared into the bathroom. About 2 seconds later the door flew back open. Zac stood there his eyes wide. "What's wrong?"
"Check this out!" Zac said pointing to a very red and angry looking wound on his lower back. "Do you think I was stabbed?"
"What?" I asked leaning over and looking at what looked like a fairly deep puncture wound. I poked at it gently.
"I have not idea what that's from, but look!" He held out Taylor's t-shirt he'd had on and it had some blood on it.
"How much did you drink last night?" I queried as I continued to probe the wound.
"I'm not sure." Zac said sucking air through his teeth as my fingernail contacted with the scratch.
"Well, I'm pretty sure it's not a stab wound." I said running my hands up his back, amazed at all the bruises and scrapes. "You are totally bruised though."
"I know," Zac said turning around. I gasped at all the bruises on his chest. "Do you think it'd be okay if I just wore Tay's sweats? I don't even want to think about putting anything tight on."
"Of course!" I answered helping him put a shirt back on. With every little movement, he moaned and groaned. "No wonder you felt so bad."
"Who feels bad?" Taylor asked as I stepped out of the bathroom.
"Zac," I said hugging Taylor.
“He needs to go see a doctor.” Taylor yawned.
“I know,” I said loving how mussed he looked. His bed head was impressive this morning. “We’re leaving in a few minutes to take him to see my dad.”
“We are?” He asked after taking a sip of his blazing hot, black coffee.
“Well, I am.” I said watching as Annabelle climbed her father. “You’re staying home. But don’t worry, Annabelle is staying with you.”
“Ah, so that’s why she came up and started jumping on our bed.” Taylor said as Annabelle settled onto his hip.
“That would be why.” I said as I shrugged on my jacket. “Zac, you almost ready?”
“Yeah,” he said coming out of the bathroom. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Taylor said bobbing his head in that guy way, sending his hair flying in all sorts of crazy directions. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve felt better.” Zac said moving gingerly.
“I’ll bet.” Taylor said squinting at the bruises forming where he could see them. “How does your hand feel?”
“Pretty bad.” Zac said holding his hand out so that Taylor could check it out. His fingers were very swollen and beginning to turn black. The thing that was the most disturbing was the fact that his hand didn’t really have a normal shape. “I really broke it.”
“Yeah, no simple cracks this time.” I said offering Zac the first sweatshirt my hand encountered.
“Don’t you have anything that isn’t emblazoned with Hanson?” Zac asked looking skeptically at the sweatshirt.
“Oh Lord, just wear it!” Taylor said rolling his eyes.
“Fu…” Zac started, but his eyes quickly darted to Annabelle and then to me. “Fine.”
“Hey, you designed it.” I said trying not to laugh at his amazing save. I helped him get his right hand in the black sweatshirt, his left cradled against his chest. I did up the zipper, admiring the brilliant orange Hanson logo. “It’s a really nice sweatshirt.”
“Whatever,” Zac said as he headed toward the garage. “But if I get accosted it’s on your head.”
“I know, I know.” I said rolling my eyes. “See you soon.”
“Belle and I will be waiting right here for you.” Taylor said kissing me. I relished the taste of coffee on his lips. It was so singularly Taylor. I kissed Annabelle, rubbing my nose against her cheek. “Good luck with Mr. Crankypants.”
“Thanks, I think I need it.” I said grabbing my keys and purse. “Bye guys!”
“Just hope that your dad gives him good news and good drugs.” Taylor said as the door closed behind me. Zac had already climbed into the front seat of the Range Rover, a deep glower on his face. The next few hours were destined to be the most fun ever.
And boy, was I ever right. It all started with Zac having another panic attack as I pulled into the hospital parking lot and ended with the fantastic news that he was scheduled for surgery the next morning for a metal halo to be placed on his hand. I sat there stunned that it was that bad, but really from what my dad said the real damage was done after he got drunk. My dad was also absolutely taken aback by how many bumps and bruises Zac had all over his body. The x-rays of Zac’s most tender areas exposed a couple of cracked ribs. By the end of the inventory of his injuries, I was ready to beat Zac up myself.
So, after a stern talking to, a liberal administration of painkillers, a pressure bandage around his ribs and yet another lecture, we found ourselves on the way home. Zac had his chair tipped back his eyes closed, moaning about his hangover. Which I knew was a load of crap because the drugs my father gave him had him feeling no pain. I think he was more upset about the idea of having surgery on his hand than he would ever admit. But as I drove back to my house, I noticed that his eyes were decidedly wet after rubbing them.
“Zac, are you sure you’re okay?” I asked tentatively.
“Yeah, I’m just such a fucking moron.” He said the tears plain in his voice. “What happens if I can’t play the drums anymore?”
“My dad said you’d be good as new in a few weeks.” I said reaching over and squeezing his knee.
“Of course he did,” Zac spat. “He’s the doctor, he isn’t going to tell me he can’t fix me.”
I had no response to that, so I continued the drive in silence. I turned the corner, my house coming into plain view and took my foot off the gas. “Oh shit.”
“What?” Zac asked popping his seat back up into a sitting position. “Oh shit…”
There in my driveway was his parents enormous black SUV. “So, what do we do?”
“I don’t know.” He said rubbing his face. He looked slack and blank from the drugs my father had given him. His eyes were truly bleary and bloodshot. “Who do you think it is?”
“I can’t even guess.” I murmured as the car rolled to a stop a few houses down from mine.
“Okay, let’s go… I have to face them sometime, right?” Zac said taking a deep breath. “One thing, don’t tell them I’m having surgery tomorrow…”
“Zac, they’d want to know! To be there!”
“I know, but I don’t want them there.” Zac said softly. “Not yet.”
“Okay, as long as you’re sure.” I said gently pressing on the gas and hitting the garage door opener. “But Tay and I will be in so much trouble when your parents find out we kept this from them.”
“I’ll remember you in my will.” He whispered. As the car pulled into the drive, I saw Diana standing there; her face drawn and tired, waiting. He sighed and pushed the car door open. “Hi Mom.”
“Oh Zac!” She said rushing around to him. “What happened?”
“Well, this bruise is from where dad slugged me.” Zac said his voice biting. “The rest are from a couple of really rousing bar fights and a few skirmishes with different flights of stairs.”
“Honey, I am so sorry.” Diana said helping him step gingerly out of my car.
“I’m sure you are.” Zac said his voice very hard.
“Zac, show some respect!” Taylor scolded from by the door into the kitchen.
“I am,” Zac said his eyes narrowing. “The same respect she showed me last night.”
“Baby, I’m so, so sorry.” Diana said again. “I was just so shocked and upset…”
“Think about how upset I was to get the letter.” Zac snapped back.
“I’m sorry,” Diana repeated a third time. “What more can I say? Please forgive me. I made a huge mistake. I love you so much…”
“Well, I love Anne, but that’s over with.” Zac spat.
“She’ll forgive you, she loves you.” Diana said a sad desperation in her voice. “Love isn’t that easily thrown away.”
“But you see Mom,” Zac said angrily. “She told me the last time that it was the last chance. One more screw up and she was out of here.”
“Have you talked to her?” Diana asked.
“Yes,” Zac whispered. “She told me that she wishes I’d just finished the job in LA. Because, then she wouldn’t have to go through the heartbreak of losing me twice.”
“Oh baby.” She said big tears filling her eyes.
“Yeah, she’s gone.” Zac said his voice tight as he fought back tears. “Even Cleo thinks she’s done. And it hurts so bad I can hardly think about it.”
“Zac,” Diana began her hands reaching out for him, but knowing somehow her touch would not comfort him. “I need you to believe that I would rather die than hurt you!”
At those words, I saw Zac visibly soften. He reached out and gently brushed Diana’s tears away. “I know. But the fact is that a lot happened last night. All bad. I need some time to process it, to get okay with it.”
“Will you come home with me?” Diana asked, hopeful.
“No, not tonight.” Zac said shaking his head. “Mom, I just need time to think.”
“I wish you would come home.” Diana said nodding her head. She understood the need to think, but she wanted him to do it in his own bed.
“Not yet.” Zac said standing firm.
“I was afraid of this.” She sighed. She looked at Taylor standing in the doorway; it was almost as if she had just remembered that we were there. “I brought you some clothes. Tay, can you help me bring them in?”
“Of course,” Taylor said heading to her car.
“Mom, thanks for understanding.” Zac said looking at her.
“Well, I know you as if I made you.” She answered smiling sadly.