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I didn’t ask Carrick to come with me to Mom and Dad’s house, but I don’t really mind that he seems to have invited himself along. In a way, I guess I need the reinforcement, the support that he provides, and as always, I’m more appreciative than I can really put into words.
It isn’t that long of a drive to their new house, but it’s a drive I’m well accustomed to; the new house isn’t far from where we lived before the fame. I didn’t think it was all that wise to move into a house so close to the one our fans still treat as a tourist destination, but it’s a nice neighborhood. I can see why they would want to move back there.
Carrick is a like a little kid is the passenger seat, his nose practically pressed up against the window as he watches the streets roll by. I almost wish I could see it from his point of view; for someone who always jokes about how boring Tulsa is, he seems pretty enthralled by it now. If my stomach wasn’t already knotting up with nervousness, I’d probably make some joke about it, but I don’t really feel like joking anymore.
I shouldn’t dread seeing my own parents, sister, niece and nephews, but that’s what it seems to have come to. They’ll have questions about Taylor and Natalie, I’m sure, and probably questions about Kate, too. They’ll probably have even more questions about Carrick, but the good sense not to voice those. I can’t even imagine what sort of answers I could give them, anyway. Like so many other times, this is just one of those things they’ll turn a blind eye to for the sake of their sanity. I can’t blame them.
I steer my truck down a familiar street and into a slightly less familiar driveway. Their new house is hardly even that much smaller than the one everyone called “the compound,” but it is far less conspicuous. The driveway curves up a small hill, and finally I reach the top of it and put my truck into park. Carrick glances out his window, then looks at me, evidently waiting for me to make the first move. With a sigh, I hop out of the truck and slam the door behind me. Seconds later, I hear Carrick’s door slam and he walks around to stand at my side – close, but not close enough to raise any more of those awkward questions.
The front door is unlocked, so I hold it open for Carrick and he takes a few hesitant steps into the house. If I weren’t so nervous myself, I would probably laugh at how, apparently, seeing my parents is the only thing in the world that can put a dent in Carrick’s usual confidence.
I hear the tell-tale sound of hammering from down the hallway, which means Dad has escaped the grandkids for a while and hidden himself away in his workshop. I nod in that direction and Carrick follows behind me. Peeking my head into the door reveals that I was right; Dad is bent over his workbench, hammering nails into… something.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, my voice raised a bit to be heard over the din of his newest manly project.
Dad doesn’t even jump; with a family as big as ours, unexpected interruptions don’t even come close to fazing him. Hammer still in his hand, he glances at me over his shoulder. “Out on the porch, having lunch. Diana didn’t mention you were coming over.”
“It wasn’t really a planned visit,” I reply, trying to force a smile onto my face. “Just thought I’d come over and say hi.”
“Well, you might get some lunch if the kiddos haven’t eaten us out of house and home yet,” he replies and a chuckle.
With a chuckle of my own, I bid Dad goodbye and nudge Carrick toward the stairs. He follows my lead, since he’s never been here before; the last time he visited, they still lived at the compound. I head to the right at the top of the stairs, toward the screened in porch. The door between it and the dining room is open, letting the fresh grass scent of outdoors seep into the house. I step into the doorway and take a deep breath of it, then give Mom a smile.
“Oh, Zac!” She exclaims, glancing up from the small mess she’s cleaning up that I’m guessing Viggo is responsible for. “Oh, and Carrick. What are you boys up to today?”
“Just checking in with you guys,” I say, leaning against the door frame. “Taylor called and said he’s been trying to reach you guys all morning.”
Mom’s smile doesn’t falter. Why would it? She doesn’t know how painful of a conversation it was for me. “Well, we’ve been playing outside all day. I guess I missed the phone. How are they enjoying that second honeymoon?”
“That’s why he called, actually,” I reply, trying to sound cheerful. No need to upset anyone. “Natalie isn’t feeling well, so they’re coming home early. They’re already in Georgia, so maybe as early as tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Penny squeals, her peanut butter and jelly sandwich falling back to her plate, completely forgotten in her excitement. She’s a little blonde clone of Natalie – it’s freaky, really – and she hates to be away from her side.
“Maybe,” I tell her, then glance back at Mom. “Tay just wanted me to pass along the message.”
A tiny hint of clouds pass over Mom’s eyes, there and gone so quickly that I’m not sure if I was just imagining it. When she looks back at me, though, her smile seems a bit forced. Standing up, she says, “Why don’t you boys come in the kitchen and have some lunch while you’re here?”
I know that diplomatic tone of voice. She wants to talk to me, but not in front of the kids. Which means she’s probably going to ask about Kate. I know she included Carrick in the invitation just to be polite, but I’m very grateful to have him following behind me as we walk into the kitchen with her.
Despite being a totally different kitchen than I’m used to, it feels like home as soon as we walk through the doorway. The scent of Mom’s homemade butterscotch Rice Krispie treats is one I always associate with home; it brings with it a sense of comfort and protection. It seems she always has a tin of it sitting on the kitchen counter, and it doesn’t take me long to locate it here. I know I’ll be snatching up a few pieces to take home before I leave.
Mom pays my drooling over her candy no mind, though, heading straight to the refrigerator and opening it. “Now, you boys can just help yourselves. We’ve got just about anything you need for sandwiches, and I made some potato salad that the kids didn’t want, so you’re welcome to that, too. Take it home with you if you want, Zac.”
“Thanks,” I reply, watching as Mom sets the container full of potato salad on the table before I can say anything else.
“Thanks, Mrs. Hanson,” Carrick echoes, and I realize they’re the first words he’s said since we got there. He squeezes past me to look through the refrigerator himself, probably to give us some sense of privacy for whatever Mom wants to say to me.
“Now, you said Taylor and Natalie were back in Georgia?”
There it is. She might think she’s being subtle, but I know where she’s going with that question. Carrick is busying himself with a sandwich that I’m pretty sure is just a bunch of vegetables on bread, so I can’t rely on him to get me out of this conversation. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to my mom; it’s just that I don’t want to talk to my mom about my failing marriage.
“Yeah, that’s what he said,” I reply, looking down and tracing the swirling patterns of the wooden kitchen table with my finger.
“Have they talked to Kate?” She asks.
I shrug. “I guess. Tay said she was coming over later, but they’re staying with Matt.”
“Have you talked to Kate?”
“Not since she left,” I reply, hating how pathetic and young my voice suddenly sounds. I want Carrick closer to me, but he’s somehow managed to slip out of the room completely unnoticed. Can’t say that I blame him. I wouldn’t want to witness something this awkward if I were him.
“Well,” Mom says, grabbing my hand that’s still wandering aimlessly around the table. She grasps it lightly, reassuringly. “I’m sure you two will work things out. She just needs a little space.”
She doesn’t say it, but I know she’s thinking about the days when Natalie would run back to Georgia at the littlest hint of a fight or disagreement. After a few years, Natalie’s mom packed up and moved to Tulsa, making the whole process a lot easier and less dramatic. The fighting seemed to stop then, and I think most of the family assumed that meant things were better between Taylor and Natalie, or that Natalie had finally grown up a bit. I think she just didn’t get the same thrill out of throwing a tantrum if she only had to drive across town to do it.
Kate was never like that, though. We fight without actually fighting; even if we’re barely speaking, we do what we have to do to keep things together. I don’t think anyone but us, and maybe Shepherd now that he’s getting older, can even tell the difference. As much as Mom is trying to pretend that this trip to Georgia means nothing, I think everyone knows that isn’t true. It’s a big deal; it just remains to be seen how big of a deal it is.
I can’t find it in myself to argue with Mom, so I don’t say anything at all. She doesn’t either, instead pulling me into a hug and holding me against her, still wordless. She’s trying to reassure me, and even without words, the message gets through. Even if things aren’t okay, she’ll still love me. At least, I’m sure she thinks that now. She might change her mind if she really knew me. Still, even at twenty six, there’s something comforting about having my mom hold me. I don’t even care how pathetic that makes me.
Finally, she pulls away and gives me a little smile, squeezing my arms. “I’ll let you get to your lunch, then. You boys are welcome to stick around for a while. I’m sure the kids would love to spend some time with you.”
Coming from anyone else but Mom, that would sound like an attempted guilt trip. Taylor’s kids love Uncle Zac and Uncle Carrick – as they’ve called him, for no apparent reason, since the first time he came to Tulsa – so of course we’re going to hang around and play with them. I’ll be surprised if they haven’t already pulled Carrick into some game by the time I make it out of the kitchen. Chuckling a little bit at that thought, I dip out a little bit of that potato salad and grab a big piece of Rice Krispie treat. Not a well balanced lunch, but I don’t care.
Surprisingly, Carrick is by himself in the living room, his plate balanced on his lap as he eats his sandwich. He smiles up at me as I walk in, and I feel my face heating up a little bit. I’m glad no one is around to see that reaction or the way I sit a little bit too close to him.
“You hanging in there?” He asks, nudging my leg with his in a subtle acknowledgment of just how close we are on the couch.
“Barely,” I reply. No point in being dishonest with him. Even if I was, he would know it immediately.
“You’ll be okay,” he says. “I know, everyone keeps telling you that, but it’s true. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Zac. So it might sound cliché and the kind of crap everyone tells you because it’s what they’re supposed to say, but I believe it. Maybe not soon, but you will be.”
“Yeah,” I reply, finding myself completely at a loss for other, more intelligent words.
It’s good enough for Carrick, I guess, because he’s soon back to eating his sandwich. I’m doing my best to choke down the potato salad. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have had any trouble at all eating my mom’s wonderful food, and eventually I do make my way through the portion I’ve dipped out for myself.
I’ve just taken a bite out of the Rice Krispie treat when Penny comes skipping into the room, her arms piled down with Barbie dolls. I don’t even bat an eye at her; there were far more Barbie dolls in our house when I grew than there were people. It’s just a side effect of having three little sisters. I’m pretty sure I hear Carrick stifling a giggle, though, as Penny struggles not to drop all the dolls and tiny little outfits tucked into her arms.
To my surprise, she hops up onto the couch next to him and flashes him her best smile. Knowing he’s already lost this one, Carrick sets his plate down on the coffee table.
“Hey, Uncle Carrick? You wanna play Barbies?”
He flashes me a look of slight terror. He grew up with only brothers, and I know he has one niece, but he rarely sees her due to her living on the opposite coast. But he knows he can’t say no to Penny, no matter what she asks of him. She’s just like that. When she’s old enough to date, Taylor will probably need to invest in an arsenal.
“Sure,” Carrick finally replies, letting out a breath.
Penny hops off the couch and into the floor, immediately launching into an explanation of each Barbie doll’s name and personality. Carrick flashes me one more look before joining her. I’m not going to rescue him, though. This is too priceless. No, I’ll just sit back and enjoy my Rice Krispie treat while Carrick tries to brush the tangles out of Skipper’s hair.
I can’t explain it, but something about watching him play with my niece, seeing how easily he just seems to fit into my family, despite all the reasons why he shouldn’t… it’s the first time I’ve felt okay all day. Maybe everything will be okay after all. Maybe not soon, like Carrick said, but there’s a tiny glimmer of hope beginning to form in my mind.