Taylor Hanson
And my heart suddenly sunk.
"I have to go," she said, getting up out of the chair, not bothering to pick up the magazine as she headed for the door, her hand still covering her mouth and her eyes still wide with shock at what she had said.
"Mommy," I repeated in a whisper, not really thinking about it. Again, my mouth was taking me places my brain had yet to be aware of. I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't stuck in a dream within a dream but I wasn't brave enough. Then, as if I had never said it, I went on. "Why did you say that?"
"What?" she said, as if she had no idea what I was talking about, but her eyes told me the whole story. Suddenly the cold ocean wasn't as deep. It looked more like it was about to rain now.
"Who are you?" I asked instead of answering her question. I wasn't in the right state of mind to deal with someone playing dumb. My voice quavered and I tried to give her my best earnest look, though I'm not entirely sure it worked. The toddler body I had just woken up from had gone, but I wasn't so sure the toddler mind had gone with it. I felt the same needfulness toward her that I had felt in my dream. Or my memory. I suddenly wasn't sure which it was.
"I told you that," she said, her voice thick though what she was saying might have been meant as a joke. "My name is Annie Lawrence." There was a desperate undertone to her voice. She didn't want me to know. She hadn't wanted any contact with me and now she was here, trying to convince me that she wasn't who she was.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
She stood silent for a moment. By the way her loose fists now hung at her sides and the way her shoulders were sagging, a sharp contrast to her cocky posture from before, I knew I was right about what I was thinking about. If you cut off some of the hair, added some weight and signs of age, put on some more updated clothing, it was the same person. I felt like I was going to be sick.
"Why are you here?" I asked more forcefully. I wanted answers from her. I wanted her to tell me that it was a mistake, that she hadn't meant to say what she had said in reply to what I had said. I wanted my mother.
"I had to come," she said quietly, playing with a loose string on the shirt she was wearing. She lifted her eyes from where they had been focusing on her feet and it suddenly struck me that my eyes were the exact same color. I had my mother's eyes. "I'm sorry."
I wasn't sure what she was apologizing for. Whether it was giving both Parker and I up or coming back such a long time later. I didn't really get a chance to contemplate it too much. All I knew was that I had too much to handle with the whole twin thing and finding out I wasn't technically part of the family I had called my family all my life. I didn't need to add this to my plate. It was too full
"Please go," I said, resting my forehead in my palm and placing my elbow on my knee. I didn't look at her, but, out of the corner of my eye, I could see her nod and when I looked up again, she was gone.
Not two minutes later, my parents entered the room. I swear, they must have seen her going down the hall. Maybe even nodded at her, smiled reassuringly the way I had often seen them do when a particularly forlorn figure was walking the opposite way down the hall. And they didn't even know.
"Taylor?" I heard my mother's voice first. She was concerned instantly, seeing the position I was in, with the tears running down my cheeks. I felt her presence beside me as she walked quickly up to the bed where I was sitting. I looked up to her, into her eyes. It was the first time I no longer saw myself in them.
"Mom?" I said unsurely. Not as though I didn't know it was her, but more like I didn't know what to call her anymore. All of a sudden. Just like that. She didn't know the difference.
"Are you all right?" she asked. She smoothed my hair back. Then she rested the back of her hand on my forehead. "You've got a fever."
"It's okay," I said, pushing her hand away. I couldn't answer her first question. I wasn't sure how all right I was anymore.
"How do you feel?" my father asked me with concern creasing his forehead.
I was really getting sick of that question. I had probably been awake a grand total of fifteen minutes since I had arrived at the hospital and I had already been asked that question more times than I would have liked. I pushed away thoughts of how I was feeling emotionally and concentrated on how I was feeling physically.
"I feel...," I started, but couldn't thnk of any words to describe to them how I felt. It seemed to change from minute to minute and it was hard to pinpoint anything specific to tell them. "I don't know," I finished honestly.
"Oh," my mother said. She was now sitting on the edge of the bed and kept smoothing back my hair. I felt like a cat or something as she did it. It was more like she was petting me than being affectionate, even though I knew she didn't mean it that way. Right that second, any displays of affection would have felt strange. Knowing who had the right to display affection toward me and who didn't had suddenly disappeared. Just like everything else had been for the past couple of weeks.
"Oh, my poor baby," she said. I could see in her face that she wanted hug me, but wouldn't because of my arm. I was a little bit thankful for that. Whatever painkillers they had given me earlier were beginning to wear off. "What happened?"
The question caught me off guard even though I knew that it was going to come sooner or later from someone. I had just hoped that it would be later. A lot later. I seriously didn't want to tell them anything. I didn't want to put them through that.
"Where's everyone else?" I asked, making no attempt at masking the fact that I was avoiding the question.
My father seemed to hesitate before answering. Like he wanted to make me answer my mother's question and yet, didn't want to push it.
"All the kids are back at Gina and Parker's place," he answered. "Gina's in the waiting room. She drove us here. They all really wanted to see you, but, well....we didn't know how it'd be and we didn't want to upset any of the little ones.
I nodded, knowing that Isaac was back at the Lowell house stewing over the fact that he had to be the comforter when he needed some comforting himself. That was always the way it was. For that reason, I was glad that I wasn't the oldest in the family, even if I usually was appointed one of the comforters, I always had Isaac if I couldn't handle something.
"Oh," I said.
"Does your arm hurt?" my father asked, pointing toward where my arm lay at my side, bandaged up.
"They gave me some pain kilers, but they're starting to wear off a little bit," I said, looking down at it and moving it a little bit. The best I could do with such a heavy bandage on it. At least, it felt heavy.
"Do you want us to go get a doctor?" my mother asked.
"No," I said. "I'm sure they know when to give me another dose."
"Well, uh, look," my father said, shifting to the next topic of conversation, "Gina said that the doctors told her that they were going to keep you here for a few days..."
"Why so long?" I asked, unable to keep myself from interrupting. I was already eager to get out of the hospital. She knew where I was when I was there. If I left, maybe she wouldn't know anymore and I could forget I had ever seen her or talked to her.
"They probably just want to keep you here until you're a little stronger and make sure everything stays all right," he answered.
"Funny, I thought hospitals were usually into kicking you out as soon as fast as they can," I said, recalling how they'd made our mother go home the day after she had had Zoe.
"Yeah, well, not this time, I guess," my father said. "Anyway, when you do get out of here, we'd, uh, like to bring you home with us when we can leave with you."
"To Oklahoma?" I said, raising my eyebrows.
"Yeah," he replied. "We just...don't really feel comfortable with you here anymore."
Now, if he hadn't said that, I probably would have been fine with going home right straight after I got out of the hospital. But when he added that, my vision suddenly took on a hint of red.
"Why?" I asked.
"Just...We'd feel more comfortable if you were with us at home," he said, beginning to fidget uncomfortably as I stared at him, trying to figure out exactly what he was trying to say.
"You don't trust Parker and Gina, do you?" I said as I came to the realization.
"It's not that," my father said.
"Then what?" I pressed. I was trying to sound casually curious, but I knew my voice sounded as accusational as the thoughts that I wasn't voicing did.
"Taylor...," my mother began, then paused to think of what, exactly, she was going to say to me. I waited patiently. "Taylor, the doctors told us that you will probably need to see a counselor for a little while to talk about...well, whatever happened to you, whether you think you do or not. Now, we obviously can't start with one here and then get a different one in Oklahoma, can we?"
Her reasoning was logical, but I knew that it had been on the spot reasoning. I knew that she hadn't actually thought of that aspect before and that that wasn't the real reason they were bringing me back to Oklahoma once I was allowed to travel. Whenever that would be.
I looked around the room helplessly, knowing that I wasn't up to arguing over it but wanting to so badly. It wasn't so much that I wanted to stay in New York as their reasons for getting me out of New York. I knew that they didn't totally trust the Lowells now as much as they did before. I wanted to scream to them that Lyle was the one that no one could trust. But then I'd have to explain to them what had happened to me. What I had done. I couldn't do that. I just couldn't do that to them.
"We're sorry," my mother said and she did sound sincerely sorry. I remembered the sincerity in my real mother's voice when she had apologized to me from something just before leaving the room.
God, I didn't need this. I didn't need all this stuff to think bout. I ached to turn back time and go back and change it all. Parker and everything that came with him wasn't enough to sacrifice my family--my sanity--to, no matter how much I liked Parker. I wanted everything back the way it had been. Not just before I had met Parker, but even before we had made it finally. I wanted to be little again and be able to know who my parents were and who my brothers and sisters were. I wanted to cry.
So I did.
Before I knew it, hot tears were rolling down my cheeks and I felt like the most pathetic person in the world for it because both of them thought I was simply crying because I didn't want to leave Rochester. They didn't know that I was really mourning the days when I didn't have to question anything about who my family was. And who I was.
Hey, a chapter that doesn't end with Taylor falling asleep! Thoughts on this are welcome.
Index
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Six