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Dreamland
Sun goes down and says goodnight Pull your covers up real tight By your bed well leave a light To guide you off to dreamland Your pillows soft your bed is warm Your eyes are tired when day is done One more kiss and you'll be gone On your way to dreamland Every sleepy boy and girl In every bed around the world Can hear the stars up in the sky Whispering a lullaby Who knows where you'll fly away Winging passed the light of day The man in the moon and the milky way Welcome you to dreamland Every sleepy boy and girl In every bed around the world Can hear the stars up in the sky Whispering a lullaby Who knows where you'll fly away Winging passed the light of day The man in the moon and the milky way Welcome you to dreamland |
Whispering a lullaby
The morning after Taylor left, I lay in the bed I slept in most of my life listening to the quiet sounds of the neighborhood waking around me. The red walls, the sloppily hung Christmas lights, the way the sun filtered through the dusty blinds, this was all so familiar and yet, all so foreign. Sunday mornings were generally quiet. They usually consisted of Taylor and I just lying in bed, whispering our deepest secrets to each other, because the street Taylor and I lived on was so deadly silent. But 78th Street seemed to have more morning noise. I sighed, missing Taylor; Sunday mornings were ours, because on most Saturday nights, Annabelle spent the night with my dad. That was their date night. So, Sunday morning was our time to spend a morning in bed relearning each other’s bodies, discovering anew how perfectly we fit together, luxuriating in one another.
Next to me, Annabelle snuffled loudly in her sleep and rolled over. I looked down at her and sighed, my breath catching behind my sternum. This bed felt so empty, even with Annabelle curled up next to me. And really, I had slept alone many times... Whenever Taylor was out of town, I brought Annabelle into bed with me, loving the scent of baby that still clung to her skin. Taylor lived a busy life. A life that often took him away for a day or two at a time, but if possible he always made it home for Sunday morning. But, even when he was gone for business, I always knew he was coming back. But for some reason, this time felt totally different. This time I found it hard to reassure myself that he would be back right on schedule. Maybe it was because this time I didn’t take him to the airport and give him a long slow kiss goodbye. Maybe it was because he hadn’t called me about five times to tell me about something funny that had happened or to just say he loved me. Maybe it was the fact that I wasn't missing him in our bed. Perhaps, it was because Taylor had left the morning before on our romantic getaway without me. So, not so much romance.
Looking back, the morning before had been one of the longest I’d ever lived, the quiet and the loneliness just got to me. I spent much of the morning after Taylor and Zac left just rattling around the house, trying to enjoy the quiet. Actually, I was pretending I enjoyed the quiet. But eventually, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I was almost never alone and when I was, I hated it. I think at one time I did like to be alone, but it had been so long since I’d experienced any sort of solitude; I just found myself getting antsy. That was one of the distinct advantages of marrying into the Hanson family. There was never a reason to be alone. And when I needed company, there was always someone to be with. I loved the fact that no matter what, there were always people around. Always. I sat trying to decide what to do. Taylor had left. Zac was gone. What should I do with my day? I could have packed a bag, gotten in my car and followed Taylor to Ardmore. Or, I could have jumped in my car and picked up Annabelle. Or I could continue to sit and pretend that I actually liked being alone. After a lot of pacing and stressing, I decided that really, there was no reason to leave my baby at my parents. Even though it was Annabelle and my father’s traditional date night, I figured since I didn’t have my own date tomorrow morning, I’d just go get her. So, I tried to make myself look more presentable (in other words, less hungover) and got in my car.
The short drive to 78th Street did nothing to relax me, because it was nothing like a short drive. Traffic in Tulsa on Saturday afternoons was bad at best, hellish at worst. And that Saturday afternoon was pretty much my own personal definition of the seventh circle of hell. There was an accident on Riverside that had the road closed. So, I turned off of Riverside and wended my way over to Lewis Avenue. I was bobbing my head in time with some random song on the stereo and got way too into, completely missing my turn. I mean, I had lived on 78th Street my whole life, how did I forgot to turn right onto 71st Street? How on Earth did I miss that bridge? I guess driving as distracted as I was at that moment was just not a good thing. But, since I’d missed my turn, I just continued down to 81st Street to get an iced Chai at Nordaggio’s. But, as I walked into the coffee shop, I spotted a klatch of girls that I was sure were fans. Not that I don’t like the fans. But this was not a day to have to deal with them. Still, they recognized me. They were very nice and respectful. Just asked me a few questions about how everyone was, how Thanksgiving had been, what our plans for Christmas were.
Then, I headed back towards my parents house, but was reminded that I wanted to avoid Riverside Drive as I hit the traffic again. I felt myself getting more and more irritated, which wasn’t good since I was already feeling overly emotional. I just wanted to get to my baby. I just wanted to get out of my car. I just wanted Taylor to be there when I got home. As the time I sat in traffic began to grow longer and longer. I became antsy. I tried to find a CD that didn’t have Taylor on it or didn’t remind me of Taylor, but quickly realized that every song I had in my car reminded me of Taylor. I finally gave up and started playing with my phone. I read all of my saved text messages, listened to my saved voicemails, scrolled through my contact list. Finally, I just gave in and dialed the familiar number.
“Hey, this is Tay. You know what to do.” Taylor’s voice said to me. His voice actually brought tears to my eyes.
“Hey Taylor, it’s me.” I started. “I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I wish you were here with me or I was there with you. Really, I guess that’s all. Love you.”
As I slowed to turn onto Union Avenue, I was almost rear-ended. This day was just not my day for driving. Well, for pretty much anything if I was totally honest with myself. I was having one of those moments. Those moments where I wished with everything that I could go back and redo something... Basically, change the choices I made the night before. What if I had refused to drink? Would Zac really have kicked me out of the studio? Would he really have refused to talk to me? Probably not. If only I had really thought through my decision to drink that much tequila.
As I pulled into the driveway of my parents’ house, I noticed that Diana's Explorer was parked in the driveway of the MOE house. I hopped out of my car and jogged across the street. I pushed the front door open and stepped inside. "Hello?"
"Back here!" I heard Diana's voice call from somewhere back by the bedrooms.
"Hi!" I said as I walked into what had at one time been the master bedroom. I found her kneeling in front of the closet, rummaging through a box. Actually to be fair, it looked like she had been through several boxes already. The box closest to her had several strange artifacts resting in the bottom of it.
"Oh, Cleo!" She exclaimed excited. "I thought you were with Taylor down in Ardmore."
"Nope." I said trying to smile at her as she continued to dig through the closet.
"That's strange, when I called him a while ago he said he was in Ardmore." Diana said resting back on her heels. "I must have misunderstood him... I did have a car full of Zoë and her friends."
"No, you didn't misunderstand." I said biting my lip. "He went without me."
Diana closed her eyes and sighed. She put a grimy hand to her forehead and wiped at the sweat collecting there. When she finally opened her eyes, I was shocked to see tears standing in her eyes. "What did I do wrong?"
"Excuse me?" I asked confused.
"What did I do that made all of my sons completely incapable of having happy, healthy, loving relationships?" Diana asked again. "Walker and I tried to set a good example... We really did. We almost never fought in front of them. We always said I love you and made every effort to do everything as a family. And yet, we went so horribly off course."
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” I said watching her stand up and stretch, her task forgotten. “All three of your sons are more amazing and more wonderful than… Well, than anyone else I know.”
“Do you really think so?” She asked biting her lip.
“Yes, I do.” I smiled.
“But Taylor…”
“He hasn’t left me.” I said seeing the panic in her eyes. “He just needs a little time to go and think.”
“But married couples shouldn’t need time apart to think.” Diana said her blue-grey eyes shining. “They should think together.”
“Well, I would agree, but really, Taylor and I spend almost every minute of every day together. Which is way more than any other married couple I know, except maybe Ike and Em.” I said. And it was true. We were almost always together. “I mean the only time we aren’t together is when Tay’s onstage. And he hasn’t done that for over three weeks. We’re tripping over each other and just need a little time and space…”
“I don’t know.” Diana said again shaking her head. “For me, it just seems like you should try to figure it all out together.”
“Diana, why in the world would you think that we aren’t going to figure this out together?” I asked her. “He just told me that he needed some space...”
“Space?” Diana asked or actually stated. It was clear that the word meant something to her that I wasn’t getting.
“Yeah,” I said nodding my head. “He just said he needed some time to get his head straight… My parents actually plan time apart…”
“I know.” Diana said closing her eyes and sighing. “I know…”
“And while my parents may not be the paragons of all things good, they do love each other a lot.” I said smiling softly. “I know they love each other.”
“There is a lot of love there.” Diana said sighing again. “I don’t know why I’m so upset over this, especially since you’re not. It’s just… I feel like everything is falling apart around me. Things I thought were forever seem to be falling apart. Do you ever feel that way?”
“Oh, man, I feel that way all the time.” I said as she knelt back down in front of the closet. “I swear that the truth moves and changes constantly.”
“You know why I’m here?” Diana asked as she began to sift through boxes again. I shook my head. “I’m here trying to find a picture… Actually a series of pictures…”
“Pictures?” I asked puzzled. “You have pictures all over the walls at the new house…”
“I know.” She said flipping through some file folders filled with the proofs from different photo shoots. “But, I want some specific pictures. I want the pictures that were taken in Los Angeles a few years ago… right before Zac got sick.”
“Oh, the one with Taylor in the vintage Rolling Stones shirt?” I asked flipping open some files.
“No, the one with a black background…” Diana said distracted. “Tay’s in that horrible khaki shirt…”
“Oh, the one that you wanted to burn?” I asked remembering that shirt. He developed an almost distracting love to this shirt. The stylist at this particular photo shoot picked it out and had made an offhand comment to Taylor about how it showed how completely in shape he was. She said that he was one of those people that made the simplest of clothing look amazing. And that shirt made him look, well, amazing. If I remember correctly, that stylist had been young and sexy. Her dark hair short and close, her blue eyes tilted up in the most amazing way, her nose pert and perky, her lips full and pouty; she was very alluring. Taylor couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, he laughed too loudly and too often. In fact, if I remember correctly, he had left that photo shoot with her phone number stored in his phone. I wonder if he ever did call her. But, after that photo shoot, he wore that damned shirt pretty much constantly. It got to the point that when he’d come downstairs in the morning, if he had the shirt on, we all just groaned.
“Yes.” She said smirking. “I hated that damned shirt.”
“I know.” I said watching as she continued to go through banker boxes filled with proofs.
“I know you do.” She said chuckling.
“Why do you want those pictures?” I asked as I helped her look.
“Because, that is the last time I remember all three of my sons being blissfully happy.” Diana said sighing. “I just remember that day as being all about sunshine and laughter.”
“It was a great day.” I agreed sifting through the things she had gathered in her box. It was a very eclectic collection of things that represented Zac in many ways. His pinewood derby car, a bronzed baby shoe, a sculpture that was supposed to be a horse but more closely approximated a whale, a skanky chunk of his woobie, a plaster handprint with dirt, several Zac original cards and drawings. I could see that Diana was trying desperately to not just recapture, but to find her missing son. The son who still saw her as the love of his life, invincible and right.
“I left the next day for my knee surgery and I don’t think I’ve seen Zac that lit up since.” Diana said quietly. I noticed that for the first time, Diana looked old to me. The gentle laugh lines were so much deeper than I remember them being. In fact, she had what looked like caverns around her lips. Her perpetually shining eyes were almost dull. She looked gray, her skin too thin, her hair hanging limply in her ponytail; she looked spent. “I just have no memory of Zac being that alive since.”
“That’s not true…” I said shaking my head. “He’s been happy a lot… just not in the last six months.”
“No, a mother knows things.” Diana said sitting back, crossing her legs Indian style. Her eyes were faraway and dreamy. I recognized that look. Taylor got it when he was “in the zone” creating. Annabelle got it as well. “A mother knows when her child is unhappy. It’s like this instinct where I can look at him and see that there is something essential missing. I can feel his anguish just by looking at his gait, the way he stands, the way he holds his shoulders. It’s a mother thing. I don’t think you can understand…”
“Diana,” I said smirking. “I am a mother.”
“So you are.” She said a soft smile playing across her lips.
“Diana, what’s really wrong?” I asked.
“Zac called this morning and told me that he was leaving and that he wasn’t sure when he’d be back.” She answered quietly as I handed her the proofs from the photo shoot she was looking for. “I tried to talk him into staying and coming home. But he said there was something he had to take care of. He couldn’t tell me when he was going to be home.”
“I’m sorry.” I said quietly. “I think it’s mine and Taylor’s fault he left.”
“How so?” Diana asked.
“Last night, I did something really stupid.” I said wondering how much to actually tell her. “It was so stupid in fact, that Taylor and I got into a major fight.”
“Ah ha!” She interjected. “I knew it… Never try to fool a mother!”
“It actually ended with us throwing things and basically being stupid.” I said shrugging.
“Throwing?”
“Yeah, I threw a vase of roses Taylor gave me at him.” I said sighing.
“Ooh, did you hit him?” She asked a look of concern on her face.
"No," I said shrugging.
"Good." Diana said a gentle smile playing over her lips. "I think a thrown vase is easier to forgive than a split open head."
"True that." I said happy to see her coming out of her funk a little. "It was a pretty half-hearted toss on my part."
"Cleo, where do you think Zac went?" Diana asked softly.
"I have no clue, but I wish I did." I answered. "Honestly, he could be anywhere in the world. But, I'm guessing New York. Still, I can't exclude LA."
"Oh Lord, do I hope it's not LA." Diana said more to herself than to me. "I just think LA is toxic to him."
"Yeah," I agreed, completely unsure of how to respond to that. The silence in the room felt a little oppressive, making it seem almost stuffy despite the chill. I shuffled from foot to foot wondering if there is anything in the world that could be done to make any of this okay.
"Cleo, what did she look like?" Diana asked her voice barely about a whisper.
"Who?" I asked knowing whom she meant. Still, I was stalling for time.
"The girl." Diana said her voice barely above a whisper.
"I barely remember her." I said shrugging. I hated lying to Diana, but I just felt as though my telling her who strangely beautiful and arresting, that she was truly unforgettable, that she had eyes filled with intimate knowledge, would most likely not be comforting. "I remember her seeming like an incredibly typical fan. You know the type, long hair, pretty, converse."
"Yeah, unfortunately, I know the type. I just thought that my sons knew the type too and wouldn't find themselves in this sort of a situation." She sighed and a deep silence settled over us. We stood looking out at the familiar street, when a car drove slowly up the street and disappeared over the hill. "Do you think Zac regrets the choice he made?" Diana asked as the car came back down the street even more slowly. It rolled to a stop in front of the house.
"Actually, I think he does." I mumbled watching as a group of girls got out of the car and began snapping pictures. "I think if he didn't, he'd be home right now."
Silence fell heavily between us as we watched the girls preen and pose for each other's cameras, their laughter pealing out like bells in the cold air. "The other day," Diana began slowly and quietly, "I was online the other day just reading random entries at Hanson.net. And in one thread a bunch of girls were discussing "the pilgrimage." Several of them were going back and forth about how they were going to do it, when they were going, etc. I read several pages wondering where this "Mecca" was located. Finally, one girl asked what the address was... Do you know what it is?"
"Sorry," I said shrugging.
"The answer actually scared me a little." Diana continued. "Because the pilgrimage is not just a trip to Tulsa, but a visit to each of our houses! Detailed directions to our house were posted all over the internet."
"I can see that." I answered ruefully, thinking of the carloads of girls trolling slowly down our street. "I guess I just accept the three ring aspect of our lives. The only things fighting against it gets are headaches, stomach aches and chest pains."
"Or divorces. Or rehab." Diana said so quietly I could barely hear her.
"Excuse me?" I said wondering if she'd said what I thought.
"Nothing." She said sighing again. "I guess, my objection is: when did my sons get elevated to an almost deified state?"
"Sometime in May 1997." I answered, remembering how surreal it got so quickly.
"Yeah, but those girls were fans..." Diana began. "These girls are acolytes. They talk about my all-too-human sons with rapture in their words."
"Some do," I agreed.
"What do we do if one of the girls decides that what their cause needs is a martyr?" Diana asked. "Which of my sons would be an appropriate sacrifice?"
"Diana! I can't even think that way!" I answered sharply. "And you shouldn't either! I think your main concern should be whether or not your sons believe that they are demi-Gods."
"You're right, but lately I find myself worrying about things that I never would have imagined would have to be anything close to a concern." Diana heaved other sigh as she looked into the box of Zac's treasures. "How in the world did we get here?"
"I have no idea." I said even though an answer was not sought or desired. The girls tiring of their snowball fight were piling back into the small red car. Each of them throwing wistful look over their shoulder. "But honestly, there is not going back."
"No, there isn't." Diana said gathering the box under her arm. "But there is definitely a way back to my house. I should probably skedaddle. Everyone will be wondering where I went. They've all been talking about how crazy I've been lately."
"And I actually came this way to pick up Annabelle." I said smiling at the thought of my peanut. "I just can't bear the thought of being completely alone in my house."
"Strangely, I can't either." Diana said as we walked out of the former master bedroom. "Well, you are always welcome at our house. In fact, I'm sure Zoë would welcome a visit from Belle."
"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'm just going to gather my baby and go home." I said feeling a little queasy still. I wasn't entirely sure telling Diana that I had a killer hangover was the best idea ever.
"Okay." Diana said pulling into a hug. "If you change your mind, just call."
"Will do." I said opening the door. Sitting on the porch was a package done up in birthday paper with bows all over it. The attached card read: Happy Birthday Annabelle! I picked up the package and quickly stowed it in the house. "You know, you're right."
"About?" Diana asked.
"There sometimes is something frightening about the fans and their devotion." I said as I nudged the gaily-wrapped box under a table and out of sight of prying eyes. "What on Earth makes the fans think that they should give Annabelle something?"
"It's just another symptom of them believing that they know my sons better than they do." Diana shrugged. "They love them so much that they begin to believe that they are part of the family."
"I know," I sighted dejectedly. "But sometimes, I just want my family to be mine alone. I don't want to share Taylor and I definitely won't share Annabelle. I suppose that makes me selfish, but seriously..."
"It's just another symptom of them believing that they know my sons better than they do." Diana shrugged. "They love them so much that they begin to believe that they are part of the family."
"I know," I sighted dejectedly. "But sometimes, I just want my family to be mine alone. I don't want to share Taylor and I definitely won't share Annabelle. I suppose that makes me selfish, but seriously..."
"No, not selfish at all." Diana said as I walked her to her car. "But as I've told Emory time and again, there are parts to everyone, share those that you can and hold on tightly to the parts that you want to be yours alone. Guard those precious pieces. Hold onto them ferociously and jealously. And always, always be grateful for them."
"You're right and I know intellectually that you're right." I said agreeing. "But on a subconscious level, I want to be a jealous child and gather up my toys and head home."
"Of course you do!" Diana exclaimed patting me on the back. "It's only natural. Just next time you're in bed together I want you to think about the fact that it's just you and Taylor... No one else. Not the fans. Not a rockstar. Just Cleo and Taylor... And a lot of love."
"Okay," I said feeling the heat of a blush creep up my neck. I hated to have any sort of conversation with Diana that even remotely involved sex. It made me feel exposed. It was almost too telling, too personal, too naked. And yet, I was so sure she knew way more than I would ever be willing to share. Recently Taylor had been having some scarily intimate conversations regarding pregnancy and how to find yourself in that state. I groaned (and not so inwardly) as Taylor shared with me his mother's wisdom regarding frequency, position (during and after) and the invaluable information that Diana felt female orgasm was essential to catching pregnant. The very notion of my husband discussing his ability to make me orgasm made me cringe. In fact, as I remember our conversation recapping their conversation, I shuddered. She knew way, way too much about my life.
"Oh honey, you're shivering!" Diana said assuming my trembling was from the cold.
"It's pretty cold." I agreed, because let's be honest, it was chilly. "I should run and pick up Annabelle, then head home."
"Maybe Tay will surprise you and be home for you." Diana said hope springing eternal in her heart.
"Maybe," I said dubiously as she shut her car door. I stood watching as she pulled out of the driveway. It was strange to think about how completely and utterly public a large portion of my life is. Many aspects of my life played out on a very public stage. Birthdays and anniversaries, successes and failures, all out there for people to agree with or ravage. Many of what I would consider intimate moments played out over and over for reporters or fans. Something as sacred and beautiful as the wholly unexpected and highly eventful birth of my child quickly became public record, garnering me my second ever tabloid photo. It really must have been a slow week if the surprise arrival of Annabelle on the family room floor was front-page news. And somewhere along the way, I had to decide whether or not all of this was okay or not. And somewhere along the way, I guess I made the decision that it was okay. And yet, as I stood in the cold December gloom and watched the same red car full of girls drive by, the flash from a camera blinding me momentarily, I found myself getting more and more angry. And the more I thought, the more I blamed this on Taylor.
How dare he make our family a public entity? How dare he expect me to put the very safety of our family in danger?
Sure, he was famous before our family was even a thought or a remote possibility. Still, I needed someone to blame all of my anger and frustration on. And he was a convenient target. Especially since he wasn't here. I flipped the car full of girls off and stormed off across the road, realizing that by the time I got home there would be pictures of me looking hungover, dirty, pissed off and just plain trashy. Nothing like a hangover to make a person look really and truly stunning.
I stumbled into the front door of my parents’ house and was welcomed with the uncommon smell of cookies baking. And I could hear the distinct sound of my daughters laughter drifting out towards me. I snuck back towards the dining room to find my father and daughter busily decorating sugar cookies in Christmas shapes. Annabelle had frosting on every available surface of her face and hands. It was hard to tell if she was frosting the cookies or herself, but her sweet voice and infectious giggle made the mess all worth it.
“Baby Bea,” my dad said laughing. “You need to get some of that frosting on the cookie. Or else the candy won’t stick.”
“Then let’s just eat the candy.” Annabelle said her voice a lilting gift to me.
“Okay…” my dad said leaning in close. “But don’t tell your mommy.”
“I won’t tell.” Annabelle whispered back. “Why not?”
“Because,” I said as I walked in through the door, “your mommy wouldn’t approve!”
“Mommy!!” Annabelle crowed before leaping off her chair and rushing over to me. I caught her up in my arms trying to avoid the frosting all over her hands and face, but being utterly unsuccessful.
“Hey baby!” I said just giving in and clutching her to me.
“Hey beautiful,” my dad said from where he sat at the table. “What are you doing here tonight?”
“Not much,” I answered. “I just missed my baby.”
“Of course,” my dad said as he started gathering the scattered candies together. “And where may I ask is Prince Charming?”
“Somewhere in Ardmore, I suppose.” I said trying to pull Annabelle’s hair off her cheek.
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that.” My dad said giving me a look that just really upset me.
“Dad, don’t.” I said just irritated that his sympathy was just feeding into my worst fears. I was studiously trying to pry the candy out of Annabelle’s hair and peel the hair that was cemented to her cheeks off. “He just said that he needed time away. There is nothing to feel sorry about. Damn it Annabelle! Stop wiggling!”
Her face became a study in shock, her eyes wide, her mouth a perfect “o.” Quickly, her face crumpled turning into itself as the tears began to flow. Her wail was at once irritating and heartbreaking. “Shh, baby… I’m so sorry. Mommy didn’t mean to yell at you.” I started as I pulled Annabelle into a tight hug.
“Good job,” my dad said as he turned on the sink to wash the dishes. “I think I’ve heard that tone before…”
“Dad, please…”
“I’m not saying you’re turning into your mother,” he began. “But I think that it could happen if you’re not careful. Don’t let things get under your skin and don’t take it out on other people.”
“I try not to.” I said rocking back and forth, holding my crying baby. “Where is mom?”
“At work.” My dad said starting to wash the dishes. “Where else would she be? I am definitely very low on her list lately.”
“I’m sorry.” I said as Annabelle’s cries slowed to hiccups.
“When she is really missing Thad, she throws herself into work.” My dad said shrugging. “So, I don’t see her much and I haven’t for years.”
“You know, we really do have one of the most dysfunctional families in the history of ever.” I said peeling Annabelle off my neck. “Dad, I really need to bathe Belle.”
“Well, Belle and I had some movies picked out for after her bath and jammies,” my dad said. “Why don’t you join us? Stay over. We were going to watch some videos…”
“Oh, okay…” I relented. “First, I’m going to go up and stick my baby in the tub.”
“I’ll get the popcorn started.” My dad replied.
“Mom, I’m too drunk to drive Cleo to the hospital…”
“Are you serious?” Diana asked looking sharply at Taylor.
“Unfortunately I am.” Taylor said hanging his head in shame.
“Okay, you call 911 while I go and find Greg.” Diana said standing up and squeezing my hand.
“Okay,” Taylor said standing there a look of panic on his face. “Wow.”
“Wow what?” I asked watching him just stand there.
“It’s all happening, isn’t it?” Taylor said biting his lower lip. He settled onto the couch next to me. His hand stole over and onto my belly. The flesh on my belly was tight and tender to the touch. But his hand felt strangely soothing. “It’s like this dream I’ve had has suddenly come true.”
“Tay, as much as I love when you wax philosophical, you need…”
“It’s like the dream of getting a record deal, but so much more important.” He said his voice picking up in speed as an idea formed fully. He was in a mode where I didn’t think I could interrupt him even if I wanted to. “I mean it’s a whole new road. It is so clear and wide and filled with possibilities… There are twists and turns that we can’t possibly see or even guess at. This will be the greatest moment of our lives. This waking from the dream... Seriously,” he said leaning forward and kissing my forehead, “it’s all happening.”
“Yes, it is and to me.” I answered. I felt the bite of another contraction starting. “Taylor, please… Please call 911.” I said tightening down on his hand as the contraction grew stronger and stronger. “Seriously, I need to get to the hospital.”
“Oh yeah, sorry.” He said sheepishly as he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. “Um, yeah… I have an emergency…”
“So, we’re having a baby?” I heard my dad say as Taylor wandered off talking to emergency services. He had the same high spots of color on his cheeks that Taylor had. As he kissed my cheek, I noticed that his breath had a sharper, harder smell to it. If I were a betting girl, I would have put my money on Maker’s Mark.
“Yeah, I think it’s inevitable.” I sniffed. “Ow, this really hurts!”
“You’re having another contraction?” Diana asked her voice getting sharp.
“I don’t know, I think so…” I said having a hard time breathing. “I’ve never had a baby before.”
“Baby, I need you to lay back and let me check how dilated you are.” My dad ordered, his jovial smile turning to one of concern.
“Check me? Down there?” I asked it suddenly occurring to me that this was getting serious.
“Yes, honey, I need to check how dilated your cervix is.” My dad said applying a gentle pressure on my shoulder.
“No,” I protested. “The ambulance will be here soon, Dr. McKinnon will check all that.”
“Uh, Cleo…” Taylor said his voice hesitant as he came back up the stairs from the front room. “Bad news.”
“Bad news?” I said squeezing my dad’s hand as another sharp pain started. “No, there is no bad news.”
“Well, okay…” he began. “Then I won’t tell you that there is a major accident on the 75 and no available ambulances in this area. And that there is a major ice storm over Tulsa and it looks like all of us will be spending tonight here.”
“Cleo let me check you.” My dad said giving me his best doctor smile.
“But what about Dr. McKinnon?” I said as my dad stuck his hand up under my dress.
“Cleo, honey, you’re having this baby, right now.”
“Now?” I asked as my dad stood up.
“Yep.” He said turning to Diana. “Let’s get her upstairs and out of here, if the 75 is really closed then everyone will need somewhere to come after the fireworks.”
“Daddy, what’s happening?” I said frightened.
“Tay, get under her other arm,” my dad said as he tried to pull me up. “Let’s take her upstairs to your parents bathroom.”
“Okay, sir.” Taylor said his voice small and unsure.
“Diana, will you fill the tub with warm water and can you grab some clean towels.” My dad ordered.
“What can I do?” Walker asked.
“Get some baby blankets and warm them in the dryer for a few minutes… They won’t be sterile, but they’ll be warm and soft.” My dad said in a voice I hardly recognized.
“Will do.” Walker said hurrying off.
“Oh, oh!” I said urgently as I hit the third step. “Dad, I need to push…”
“Not yet.” My dad said placing his hand on my tummy. “Let’s get you to the tub and then you can push.”
“Daddy, where are the drugs?” I asked realizing that no matter how much I didn’t want to have my baby in the bathroom of my mother-in-law’s house, it was going to happen. “First baby’s are supposed to take forever. I can’t be having her this fast.”
“Ah, but you are.” My dad said as he gently guided me into the bathroom. “Taylor, help her get her dress off and into the tub. Cleo, how long have you been having pains?”
“Umm… Pain?” I asked as Taylor helped me out of my dress.
“Yeah, pressure in weird places, a feeling of tightening.” He said helping me out of a shoe.
“Well, I’ve had this really unpleasant pressure in my back since this morning before we came out here.” I said taking a deep breath as another pain hit.
“Oh!” Diana said stopping as she was preparing the tub. “You had a bunch of contractions earlier as we were preparing the food… But you thought they were Braxton hicks since she’s not technically due for two more weeks.”
“That’s right.” I said feeling a sense of relief. “And I’ve had them since then…”
“How often?” My dad asked a smile stealing across his face.
“Well, at first they were like half an hour apart, but they were getting more and more…” I trailed off as my father started laughing at me. “What?”
“Baby, you’ve been in labor for almost ten hours and you didn’t even know it.” Diana answered for him
“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Taylor asked, his forehead drawing together.
“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was anything.” I said shrugging. “I’ve had lots of false labor and I didn’t want everyone to think I was a whiner.”
“Cleo, you’re having a baby!” Diana said as she helped Taylor lower me into the tub. “No one would have thought you were whining.”
“Well, baby, you’re gonna have a baby.” My dad said kissing me on the forehead. “No going back.”
“I still wish I had some drugs.” I said as another contraction hit. Soon, I was the center of a whirlwind of activity that found me immersed in a bathtub filled with warm water and Taylor squatting in the tub behind me fully dressed. He held my knees as I pushed. The pain not nearly as all encompassing as I thought it would be, but to be honest, I think I was in shock that I went from zero to baby in less than twenty minutes.
“Okay, Cleo, on the next contraction, push with all your might.” My dad said his face a study in concentration. I felt a tightening in my belly and bore down as everyone in the room counted to ten. I took a deep breath and relaxed back into Taylor.
“Cleo!” Taylor said excited. “I can see a head! There’s a head!”
“The hardest part is over,” my dad said as he smiled at me, tears standing in his eyes. “She’s beautiful.”
“I want to see her.” I said jealous that others were seeing my baby before me. “I need to push again.”
“Go ahead,” my dad said.
With a final groan, Annabelle Beatrice Hanson came into the world. “Is she okay under the water?” I asked memorizing her face. She was so new and so unsullied. I was looking for me, for Taylor, for Thad.
“She’ll be fine until we cut the umbilical cord.” My dad answered.
My dad worked in the water for a few moments, handing Taylor a pair of scissors and instructing Taylor on where and how to snip the thick, cord connecting us together between the clamps my dad had hooked there.
“Cleo, lift her up out of the water so she can breathe.” My dad instructed, as Taylor snipped the cord.
As I lifted her out of the water, she let forth with the most amazing scream I’d ever heard. It was joyous and musical and all mine.
“Hello baby.” I said looking into her cloudy eyes. Her eyes held so much truth in them, so many secrets. She had seemed like a dream floating just under the surface of the water and now, she was a reality. “Annabelle, were you with Thad?” I asked quietly. “Did he send you off to me?” She blinked slowly, stretching her arms and legs. “Were you cramped in there?”
“Mommy! What are you thinking about?” Annabelle asked as I finished washing her hair.
“Well, I was thinking about the night you were born.” I said taking handfuls of water and rinsing the conditioner out of her hair.
“I was born in a bathtub.” Annabelle said as I lifted her out of the tub and held her against me, her head resting in approximately the same place it had rested as she drew her first angry breaths. “Daddy told me it was a really snowy, scary night.”
“Well, I was scared and happy.” I said loving the way her clean slick skin felt against mine. “You were my late Christmas gift…”
“Or an early birthday gift!” She finished for me. She had heard the story of her birth so many times, often asking to hear it as she sleepily sucked her thumb. “He said that you would love me.”
“Who said?” I asked as I slathered her down with baby lotion. At almost 3 years old, she still had the most amazing skin. I just loved slicking her up.
“Uncle Thad.” She said very matter of fact.
“Do you mean Uncle Zac?” I asked as I helped her into her fleece, footie pajamas.
“No, Uncle Thad.” She said very sagely as I zipped her into her jammies. “He’s an angel.”
“Yes, he is.” I said not even realizing I was crying until the tear was running down my cheek.
“Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad…” I answered swiping at the tears.
“It’s okay, it makes Maama sad when I talk about Thad too.” Annabelle said as I started to comb her hair. “Daddad says that I shouldn’t talk about him to her or to you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She said sighing. “But he loves you both. It makes him sad that you don’t get along.”
“Do you talk to him?” I asked worried.
“No, he’s dead.” She said exasperated. “He is just in my dreams and in the videos that me and Daddad watch.”
“Oh, okay…” I said not sure what to think.
“He told me that he visits you in your dreams too.” Annabelle lisped. “He loves you.”
“And I love him.” I said quietly following her out of my old room and down the stairs to where my dad sat on the couch in the sunroom with a bowl of popcorn and the television on. Annabelle was already tucked up in his lap her wet hair leaving a mark on his dark t-shirt. “Hey dad.”
“Come sit with me.” He said holding his arm up and inviting me to sit right next to him.
“What are we watching?” I asked as I stuffed popcorn in my mouth.
“Annabelle’s favorite…” He said kissing the top of her head.
“That is?” I asked.
“Videos of you and the boys.” My dad answered as the screen filled with a sunny day showing the six of us chasing each other around the lawn. At first, I thought it was a pickup soccer game. But moments into it, I realized we were playing full body tackle tag. I watched Thad throw himself at me, his body basically perpendicular with the ground as he tackled me. Once he had me down, he started tickling me. Pretty soon, all of the guys were tickling me. Walker’s voice was in the background chuckling. “We watch one of these videos every Saturday night.”