Chapter Fifty-Six

Taylor Hanson

"Taylor...," my father began, but trailed off.

I turned my gaze away. Never in my life had I been ashamed of my father. But I was now. I couldn't believe the way he had acted. I found that I couldn't look at him, I was so angry. So, instead, I turned my gaze away and cleared it of any feeling. Besides, I don't think a face can contort in the kind of way I'd have had to twist my face to truly show what I was feeling inside.

"God damnit, Taylor," he said in frustration. He sat down in the chair my mother had last sat in and pulled it up close so that he could at least attempt to make me look at him. For a moment, he succeeded. I saw the same amount of hurt in his eyes that I guessed would have been in mine if I had let my feelings show through. Then, I looked away. I found, much to my own disgust, that I wanted to be mad at him. I needed something to be angry at and he had made himself the best target. "Don't do this to me," he said.

I clenched my teeth, not wanting any of the forgiving words to come out of my mouth yet, picturing him slamming Annie up against the wall like he had in order to try to keep them at bay.

"Don't...do...this...to...me. Please," he repeated slowly, as if he thought that I hadn't heard him the first time.

"Do what to you?" I asked, looking at him.

"Don't turn away from me to go with her," he said, spitting her name like he had swallowed poison. "Because if you turn away from me, Taylor, you might now have anyone you feel you can turn to when she runs away again."

"What makes you so sure she's going to leave?" I asked, my voice as emotionless as I was straining to make my face.

"It's what she does, Tay," he said. "Trust me, I've known her a lot longer than you have. I was her next door neighbor for eighteen years. I know how she does things."

"No," I corrected him. "You know show she did things. Back then. You're forgetting that that was then and this is now and you, above all people in my life, have taught me to believe that people can change."

"Not overnight, Taylor," he said.

"It hasn't been overnight," I said. "It's been twelve years."

He stayed silent for a few minutes.

"I guess it just seems like overnight to me," he said. "I mean, my God, Taylor, you're going to be sixteen next year. To think that a few weeks ago, I was afraid that when you got your license, you'd start to drift away from me. And look at what we have now. My second oldest is drifting away from me."

"Zac's you're second oldest," I reminded him. I felt my brow crease slightly. Why had I just said that? Wasn't that one of the things I had been fighting against thinking for the past few weeks?

"You see? That's exactly what I'm talking about!" he said, getting out of his chair to pace the room. "Taylor, I can't believe you don't understand that you're still my second oldest. I have always considered you my second oldest from the day that Annie gave you up to us. You will always be my second oldest."

"And I can't believe you don't understand," I said back.

"What don't I understand, Taylor? Tell me," he said.

I thought for a moment.

"She doesn't know you, Taylor," he went on before I had the chance to answer him. "She didn't want to know you then. She probably doesn't really want to, now."

"She sure came an awful long way for someone who didn't want to get to know me," I said.

"Why are you making this so hard?" he asked, sitting down again.

"Wouldn't you be if it was your biological mother?" I said.

"No," he said. "I'd be angry as hell that she dared to show up after twelve years and expected me to act like she was my mother. Maybe we should present the idea to Parker and see what he says about it."

"Maybe I just haven't had the time to have that anger build up," I suggested. "And you make it sound like she's forcing me to think of her as my mother. She isn't. Not at all. She came in here and we just got to be friends. That's all."

"How does it make you feel that she left you, then?" he asked.

"Well, if she hadn't left me, I wouldn't have had you," I said.

His expression softened.

"Look, Dad, she did what she did to protect me," I said. "Me and Parker."

For what felt like a long time, we stayed quiet.

"What do I have to say or do to convince you?" I asked.

He moved his gaze from his hands to the door. I waited for his answer, even turning my attention to the door as well to see if there was someone standing there, but there was nothing but a door. It felt like I had passed through that door one person and would go out of it a different person.

"You don't know Andrea," he started.

"That point has been established," I said. "No, I don't know her. No, I've never had a conversation with her that's lasted more than five minutes. But I want to know her."

"I don't think that's going to be possible," he said.

"Why is that?"

"That's because I don't think you know that after she walked out of that door a few minutes ago, I don't think she had the intention of coming back. Ever."

"Whose fault is that?" I said, my voice not as strong as it was before because I had the sudden realization that he might be right. What was I talking about? I had known the woman for a total of five minutes and I was fighting on her side? Wait, no, I couldn't let myself think like that.

"She was probably coming to say good-bye, Taylor," he said. "She just happened to come in at the wrong time and decided to abandon you again when things got rough. I wouldn't plan on being able to get to know her if I were you."

I looked away from him again, this time to the opposite wall.

"I'm just stating in words what any half blind fool can see," he said, now growing angry. "She's probably halfway back to wherever it was she came from by now."

I still refused to look at him. I didn't want to hear what he was saying. If I heard it, I'd have no defenses left.

"Just...," he sighed, pushing himself out of the chair and walking to the door. "Just don't tell Parker, okay? He doesn't need to know."

About a thousand reasons why he did need to know went through my head, but I didn't say any of them aloud. I couldn't. I just stared at one spot on the wall until he finally left without another word.

Whose side are you on--Taylor's or Mr. Hanson's?
Index
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Seven