Installment Eighteen

Taylor came home that Tuesday.  I had told Shanna the day that we found out what was going on – that we were going to lose him.  Taylor didn’t tell us how much time he had, if he knew; everyone was just so happy to finally have him home again that I don’t think the time frame mattered right then.  That Thursday we all got something we weren’t expecting; although, I think the surprise was meant for Taylor, it got us all.  Tay wanted to just lie down and relax on the couch; he was slowly rebuilding his strength.  mom and dad made everyone clear out of the living room and find something else to do somewhere else.  I had been in the kitchen, washing dishes when we heard the door bell.  I stopped what I was doing to get it so Taylor wouldn’t have to get up, but when I got to the doorway leading into the living room, he was already up, carefully making his way to the door.  When he finally got there and opened it up, I figured out who it was standing there within ten seconds.  He stood there, shocked, not saying anything.  A young woman with blondish-brown, a little longer than shoulder length hair, and obviously pregnant stood in front of him; I assumed right then that it was Shanna.

“I needed to see you,” she said softly.  “Taylor…”

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly.  “I thought…”

“I lied to you,” she said.  “I told you I had it done, but I never went through with it; that’s why I wouldn’t see you after that.   I couldn’t do it, Taylor.  I’d rather have my baby grow up never knowing its father rather than kill it.”

“I… I’m so glad you didn’t,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand.

“I thought you would be upset…” She said, tears becoming evident in her voice.  “But I had to chance it; I had to see you…”

“Shanna…” He stepped out and pulled her into his arms, and they wrapped their arms around each other.  “I’m so sorry for everything,” he said quietly.

“I needed to be here for you,” she said, “all that stuff doesn’t matter now.”

“Taylor,” I said quietly.  “It’s starting to rain; you should invite her in.” He looked at me thankfully, I think because I understood and didn’t question him.

I don’t know what happened between them because I knew they had a lot to talk about, so I let them be alone.  But she was still there when it was time for dinner and Taylor brought her in to meet the entire family; I guess it was easy to interpret they were back together, even with whatever problems they had had.  Everyone was a little surprised to see she was pregnant, mostly mom.  I was nearby enough to hear the conversation when he asked her where she was staying; there was a hotel just outside of town, about twenty minutes away where she had checked in, but he convinced her to stay with him instead.

“I don’t have any clothes…” she said.

“I have a couple of big shirts,” he said, touching her stomach, “and you could wear a pair of my sweatpants…”

“If you really want me to stay…”

“I do,” he said quietly.

“Though I doubt your sweatpants will fit me.” She smiled a little.

“It’s ok if they don’t,” he said, gently touching her cheek.

“Um, Tay?” I said quietly, sorry to have to interrupt.  I had an armful of pillows.  “Mom wanted me to bring some extra pillows up here.” He motioned for me to come into his room.  “She said Shanna would probably need a few extra than what you have already.”

“Thanks,” she said softly.  “Avery, right?”

“Yeah,” I said smiling a little.  “But you can call me Avie.”

“Thanks Avie,” she said softly, standing away from Taylor for a moment, one hand on her round belly, and one on the small of her back.  I took the pillows over to his bed and set them down.

“Thanks,” he said to me, kissing my head.

“How far along are you?” I asked her, a feeling of wonder filling me.  I was going to have a niece or a nephew…

“Six months,” Taylor answered for her, smiling a little, and she smiled too.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

She and Taylor made eye contact and smiled at one another.  “A boy,” she said softly.

“Wow,” I said quietly. “Tay… you’re gonna have a son.”

“I know,” he said, sounding awed.  I wanted to stay up and talk to them both, and since I didn’t go to public school anymore it wouldn’t have been a problem, but I knew they needed time together, and I needed to respect that.  Taylor was still recuperating and I had a feeling that having her there with him, and knowing that she hadn’t “gotten rid of” their child, was going to help him feel a little better a little sooner.

“I’ll let you to get some rest,” I said quietly.  “It was really nice to finally meet you, Shanna.  I hope you’re here to stay.”

“It was nice meeting you, too, and your family.”

“Avie,” Taylor said as I was about to go out his bedroom door.  I turned around and he smiled softly at me.  “I love you.”

“I know you do,” I replied.  “Love you, too, Tay.  G’night.” I closed the door quietly behind me, thinking that something was finally going to go right.

- 3 months later -

Things had been going well around the house.  Shanna had moved in, with no objection – surprisingly – from my parents; Taylor hadn’t convinced her yet to stay in Tulsa permanently and not go back to New York City.  Zac had proposed to Rachel on Valentines Day and she said yes, and May and Christopher moved into Ike’s apartment with him.  Zoë had turned nine back in January, and Shanna was due for the baby February twentieth – which was the event we were all waiting for.  But there could never be anything that good without a downside.  Taylor had recovered, for the most part, from the horrible treatment three months previous, but his health was still failing; though, it wasn’t unexpected.  His hair had grown back some – it was really short, sort of like someone had given him a buzz cut and it was growing back in.  He made sure that he occupied himself all the time so he didn’t have to think about or confront the fact his health was waning and his time was growing thin.  He and Shanna had picked out a name for the baby: Jordan Parker Hanson.  Mom and dad wanted them to get married, but Taylor wouldn’t agree to it, but not because he didn’t love her; he didn’t think it would be fair for him to marry her knowing that he was dying; he couldn’t force himself to do it knowing he was going to leave her and the baby.  But we could tell he was wrestling with his emotions; it was obvious how much they loved each other, and he really did want to marry her.  But within the last three months… He started feeling better with the end of the treatments, and at the same time the cancer was getting worse.  It was finally starting to get to him, and we could all see that he wasn’t feeling well.  On top of that, his birthday wasn’t too far off.  He told us he didn’t want a huge celebration; he only wanted us there, and he wanted it to mean something.  He told us all he didn’t need gifts to be bought for him, but instead, just spend time with him.  mom decided that we would all give Taylor something, but it wouldn’t be bought; it would be something of our own that meant something to us, that we wanted him to have.  I knew exactly what it was I wanted him to have.

It was the twenty-second when Shanna went into labour.  We were in the family room when Taylor came in, holding Shanna’s hand, one arm around her, supporting her.  We knew she had been having contractions since the night before, and mom had been keeping an eye on her, knowing what to expect since she had seven kids of her own.

“Mom,” Taylor said surprisingly calmly.  “Shanna’s water just broke.”

“Oh my…” She got up from her spot and went over to both of them, taking Shanna’s arm gently.  “Come on, I think it’s time to take you to the hospital.” As I watched them go – just mom, dad, Taylor and Shanna went – I had a sinking feeling.  It was great she was having the baby, and Taylor was going to get to see his son before he died, but watching them walk out together it was impossible to tell who was leaning on who for support.  Taylor pretended like he was ok ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, but he wasn’t, and I knew that.  He was getting weak and tired again, and this time it was the effects of the cancer and not its treatment.  He seemed to have gotten a cold that he couldn’t shake, and it worried us, but we never said much because we didn’t want to upset him.  Just the day before Shanna went to have the baby, I walked in on mom in her room.  She had a box of Taylor’s “kid things”.  I knew she was reminiscing because of the circumstances, and she really had every right to.  She was looking through some pictures of him – baby pictures and whatnot, all his little toys from when he was a toddler.  She had his birth certificate on her dresser, his little footprints in ink on the front of it.  And not that I didn’t expect it, but it still hurt to see her crying.  She was preparing herself, I guess, or making it worse for the fact she wouldn’t have him for much longer…

Mom called us around nine-thirty that night to tell us that Jordan Parker was born at nine-twenty seven, and he had one proud papa.  I was happy for Taylor, we all were, and in the same breath we were all sorry for him; he’d never get to see his son grow-up, never give him a sibling, never really have the family he used to want so badly when he was younger.  If things like that hurt us, then they had to hurt Taylor; he had to think about these things, too… Maybe those things were the reason I could hear him crying sometimes, late at night, when everyone else was asleep and I should’ve been.  Sometimes, I cried too; we all had the right to mourn things we would lose, and Taylor had the right to mourn everything he was going to lose before he had the chance to have it.

Shanna and the baby came home a few days later, and Taylor had something going on, though at the time, none of us were really sure what.  He had something set up in the backyard that he didn’t want anyone to see, and e laid out a beautiful, pale yellow cotton linen dress for Shanna.  He was the one carrying the baby when they came into the house, which wasn’t a surprise, really; Taylor had been around kids for a long time, so of course it was natural for him to be more comfortable holding a new born.  I remember Shanna telling me once that she was afraid to hold the baby at first, because she’d never really been around babies, and she didn’t want to hurt him; but once she got the hang of it, she was a natural – I guess every mother is and just doesn’t realize it at first.  Taylor dressed the baby in a pale blue onesie with the white blanket with blue shapes of some kind on it – it was cute – and a little blue hat from the hospital.  He was a beautiful baby; he looked exactly like Taylor did in the baby pictures I had seen of him.  He held the sleeping new born and told Shanna to go up and change, and without argument, though her curiosity was peaked, she did so.  She looked absolutely beautiful when she came down.  It wasn’t until that moment I noticed that Taylor was sort of dressed up, too…  He had a white button up shirt on, and casual but dressy khaki’s.  He was more than grateful that he didn’t have to wear a bandana or hat – in the three months that had gone by, his hair had grown back; although, it was nowhere near as long as it had been, he had hair.  It was short, much shorter than we were ever used to, but it didn’t look bad on him.  He looked grown-up, and handsome, despite the subtle but obvious (to us) signs he wasn’t healthy.

He led us all out into the backyard; there was an arch set up, with pretty pastel – and real – flowers.  Beneath it there stood a man dressed in a black suit with a white collar, and I realized as we all did that it was Father Maguire, holding a small bible in his hands.

“Taylor…” Shanna said softly, taking in the gorgeous but simple sight as we all did.  “You did this?”

“Yes,” he answered, holding the baby close to his chest.  “I did it for you; for us…”

“Taylor, what’s going on?” She asked quietly.

“We’re getting married,” he answered softly, kissing the top of her head, careful not to squish his son between him and his wife-to-be.

“But we don’t have a license – “

“It’s all taken care of, everything.”

“Jordan,” Mom said softly.  He turned to look at her, and for once I could plainly see contentment in his features; no pain, no discomfort, and if he was in either he didn’t show it in any way whatsoever.  “You did all of this?” He nodded.  “You don’t know how proud this makes me,” she said softly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out two plain silver bands.  He turned to Isaac and May and Christopher and gave a soft smile.  “Ike, I hope you don’t mind being a last minute, but only consideration, best man.”

“Not at all, Tay,” he said softly, taking the rings from Taylor.

“Well, come on,” he said to all of us.  We followed him out into the yard, he and Shanna fittingly barefoot.  He held her hand, their fingers laced together, leading her down to the priest waiting to pronounce them husband and wife.  As I watched them, it made me realize something: people can change.  Taylor had changed for the bad, and made a complete turn around.  It also made me realize that people really can find love like you read about in cheesy romance novels, only when its real, it isn’t quite so cheesy – it’s actually kind of touching.  And as if things weren’t perfect enough, there was a warm breeze as the sun was setting, making it a real Kodak moment; it made me wish that I could stop time and hold that perfect moment in my hands for all time.  None of us knew it, but he hired a photographer, who stayed fairly far back until the ceremony was through; but he got that moment I wanted to keep, and though it wasn’t what I meant by holding it in my hands, the moment was captured: all of us standing together, watching as the priest stood before them, Taylor and Shanna facing one another, the breeze stirring gently… It was a perfect family portrait by accident.  The ceremony didn’t take long, and when it was ended we had a nice dinner inside, and Tay had even handled a small wedding cake – it was nothing huge, just enough to feed all of us a piece, and save one for a year from then… The only damper was thinking a year from then Shanna would be eating that piece of cake alone, maybe to his memory and to the memory of this day, grieving instead of rejoicing.  But in all truth, that day was one of the most vivid and beautiful memories of my childhood.

It was much later that night, but I stopped by Taylor’s room, more than happy when he let me come in.  He had a white bassinet on the other side of the desk; close enough for them to get up and get the baby easily but far enough that they wouldn’t trip over it getting out of bed.

“So how does it feel to be married?” I asked, unable to keep back the small smile on my face.

“It feels…” he seemed to think for a moment before answering, taking a second to look at his sleeping son, and then at his wife before looking back at me.  “It feels really good.”

“I’m glad to see you happy,” I said softly, suddenly feeling tears sting my eyes.  “You really deserve it, Tay; I’m happy that things turned out like this.”

“Why the tears?” Shanna asked softly, gently wiping one off my cheek.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see Taylor get married,” I said.  “Things were really rocky between us for a long time, and I made myself think that I wanted to hate him, but… I really didn’t.  I never hated you, Tay.” He had tears in his eyes too.  “Way down deep, I loved you more than anything – you’re my brother…   I just wanted you to be the Taylor that taught me how to be a good person, the Taylor that loved me; I just wanted you to be happy…”

“Oh Avie…” He pulled me into a hug and kissed my hair.  “I love you,” he said.  “I was a jerk for a long time, but I never stopped loving you – I never stopped loving any of you.”

“I love you, too, Tay,” I said softly.  He turned from me for a moment when we heard the baby start fussing.  I nodded as he stepped away to the bassinet, reaching inside and carefully drawing the little baby boy to his chest.

“He’s so beautiful,” Shanna marveled quietly, gently smoothing the fine blond hair on his tiny head.  “He looks just like you, Taylor,” she said softly, smiling up at him.

“He’s so small…” I hadn’t realized I spoke until they both looked at me.

“Do you wanna hold him?” She asked me.

“I don’t know…” I hesitated; the only baby I think I ever held and was old enough to remember doing so was Zoë, and that was sitting on the couch with dad’s supervision.

“It’s ok,” Taylor said softly, both of them coming towards me.  “Here, hold your arms out,” he told me, and I did so.  “Now support his head,” I did that, “and put one hand under his butt.” I was holding my nephew.  “There,” he said softly, “not so hard, is it?” I shook my head mutely, staring down at the tiny wonder in my arms.  It was sort of a joyful moment, until Taylor said something that nearly made us cry.

“You better help take care of him when I’m gone.” His words were soft and sad, but serious.

“Taylor…” Shanna said softly, coming to his side and taking his hand; she closed her eyes for a moment, obviously fighting tears, as was I.

“Shan,” he said softly.  “Why don’t you take him down to see my mom for a little bit?  I just wanna talk to Avie alone for a few minutes.  Okay?” She looked up at him and nodded, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him gently on the lips.  She reached down and carefully took Jordan from my arms.  I simply watched as my sister-in-law and my nephew departed from the room.

“Avie,” Taylor said softly, interrupting my daydream.  I looked at him, his softly sad voice catching my attention.  “I need you to do something for me, okay?”

“Okay…”

“I need you to convince her to stay,” he said softly.  “I don’t want her to go back to New York City and raise him alone; she’s gonna need this family, and I want you to make her stay.”

“Why me?” I asked.

“Because I know you can,” he said.  “I want her to live here; she and Jordan can have my room, and mom and dad can help her and stuff…  I just want to make sure they’re taken care of.”

“I… I’ll do my best, Tay…” I wasn’t sure how to react to what he was saying to me.

“I know you can convince her, Avie,” he said softly.

“Tay… it’s your wedding night; why are you talking like this?”

“Because,” he said softly; tears shone in his eyes now.  “I don’t think I have very much time left.”

“But…” I felt tears burning my eyes again.

“Don’t ask questions, please,” he begged me quietly.  “Just… just trust me, and don’t be sad, ok?”

I knew better than to argue, and I don’t think I could have spoken if I had wanted to, so I simply nodded once, letting him know that I understood.

“I love you, Avery Laurel,” he said softly, pulling me into a gentle hug.

“I love you, too, Jordan Taylor.” I held onto him tightly but gently, praying to God that I would get to do this more times in the future.  It seemed impossible that he was dying; he had a family now, a son and a wife.  How could his life be withering away beneath him?  It didn’t seem possible or right, and I didn’t think it ever would.  And it never has.

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