Back To Normal Again… Or Not
October 3, 2007
From that night on, everything seems completely back to normal. Whatever normal ever was. It’s such an overused word, especially in my life, that I feel like it has completely lost any meaning it might have ever had. Especially for me. In short, fuck being normal. I like being me, as weird and fucked up as I am.
Another thing I happen to like are the long breaks between concerts on this promotional tour. We get to sleep in actual hotel rooms quite often, rather than going straight from the bus to the venue. Sometimes we even get a few days off to rest in each city before or after the show. I know it’s all for my benefit while I get back to 100% of the person I was before the accident, and while on some level that bothers me, on another it’s just a really nice, relaxing change of pace.
I don’t even remember what city we’re in this morning, but I don’t care. Any city where I get to sleep in late in a comfortable hotel bed is a good city in my book. I would have liked it even better if I could have shared with Taylor, but I know at this point, that would have looked odd. Even though I feel like by now our relationship is practically an open secret, there are still things that it just seems like we ought to hide. I’m never going to be okay with that, but I can understand it.
I take my time waking up and I even indulge myself by staying in bed awake for some time before finally pulling myself out from under the covers and into the shower. We’re supposed to meet for brunch in the hotel’s restaurant to run through our schedule for the next few days – the album’s official release is just a few days away, so there’s a lot to do – so I pull on a clean pair of clothes and make my way toward the first floor of the hotel.
I know Taylor has something up his sleeve, some crazy plan for promotion, but he hasn’t shared it with any of us yet. I have a feeling he’s going to bring it, whatever it is, up at this meeting. It’s fascinating to watch his mind work, because he’s a little bit like a mad scientist or an evil genius. You’re never quite sure if he’s brilliant or just totally off his rocker. I can’t help smiling to myself as the elevator ticks off each floor, growing closer and closer to the ground floor.
At the third floor, my cell phone rings and I pull it from my pocket. It’s Kate. She doesn’t call often because she doesn’t know my schedule, so she’s taking a risk in guessing that I’ll be awake and able to talk this early.
“Hello?”
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” she asks, and her voice is nervous and urgent, like she might be on the verge of crying about something.
“No, I was already up, believe it or not. We’ve actually got a pretty easy day, but we were going to have a band meeting this morning. Afternoon. Whatever.”
Kate laughs. “Hansons, awake in the morning? I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Awake and functional. Must be a sign of the apocalypse.”
She laughs again, but this time I notice it’s a little strained. “Well, if you’re busy… I can call back.”
“No, it’s fine,” I reply, stepping out of the elevator and walking into the gigantic lobby, trying to remember the way to the restaurant. “I’m not at the meeting yet. What’s up?”
“Well… you know how I was feeling a little strange the last few days?”
“Yeah, are you feeling better?”
“Yes and no,” she replies. “I mean, I feel the same, but now I know what’s wrong.”
“And that makes it better?” I ask, only half listening as I finally make my way to a sign that points me toward the hotel’s lounge and restaurant.
“It does. It makes it a lot better.”
I feel like there’s still something she’s not telling me, and it’s taking forever to pull it out of her. I walk into the restaurant and see Taylor and Ike waving to me, so I switch the phone to my other hand and wave back. “Okay, well what’s wrong?”
“Well, not really wrong…” she trails off with a strange giggle. “Zac, I’m pregnant.”
I come to a stop in front of the table where my brothers are sitting and for a moment, I think I might pass out. I stand completely still, phone still held up to my ear even though I can’t seem to make my voice work.
“Zac? Are you still there?”
I gulp, and try to ignore the way Taylor and Isaac are staring at me. “Yeah… yeah. That’s great. Can I call you back later, though?”
“Yeah, call me when you’re not busy.”
I end the call and stuff the phone back into my pocket, still standing dumbly in front of the table. Taylor raises an eyebrow and Isaac crosses his arms. I realize, perhaps too late, that they’re waiting for me to explain myself. I can only imagine how I must look. “Umm… Kate’s pregnant.”
Isaac’s face lights up. He’s loving being a father, and I know he’s dying for a second baby, so it’s no surprise that he’s happy for me. Taylor frowns and his eyes cloud over, but he quickly forces that expression away and replaces it with a smile that’s too big to be mistaken for anything genuine.
Taylor pulls out a chair for me, but barely even looks me in the face. “That’s great, Zac. You’ll make a great dad.”
I wonder if he has any clue how insincere his words sound. Even more than that, I wonder if Isaac notices. I think he does, but he chooses not to remark on it. I can practically see inside of his mind, as he files that thought away somewhere where he doesn’t have to think about it and can pretend it didn’t happen, like so many other odd moments between Taylor and me that he’s noticed over the years.
I can’t even manage to pay attention to the conversation going on around me. I barely manage to order a coffee, but I can’t think about eating anything. I just dive into my coffee and stay there as Taylor and Isaac talk about plans for how to promote the album and something about walking. I manage to nod and say “yes” or “no” at the appropriate moments, so I don’t think they even notice that I’m off in my own world.
I don’t know why this has hit me so hard. It’s not like I didn’t plan on someday having children, and it’s not like I didn’t know that was going to happen eventually. I’m not an idiot. I know how this works. Hell, I was terrified to even have sex with Kate after what happened with Taylor and Natalie. But I’m a married man now, aren’t I? I shouldn’t be so scared of being a father; it’s kind of part of the whole job I signed up for when I gave Kate that ring.
Maybe it’s Taylor’s reaction that’s bothering me, then. I knew why he wasn’t happy about my wedding. I could understand that, eventually, even though I thought it was selfish and childish. And after he opened up, I understood why he had pulled away from me after the accident. But what I don’t understand at all is why this, the news of my impending fatherhood, could possibly bother him. He knew this would happen, too. He knew that we could never be truly, 100% devoted to each other. This couldn’t really be any other way.
So why does it feel like that’s what he wants from me?
Maybe I’m reading too much into how strange he’s acting. Maybe he just thinks I’m too young to be a father; after all, he would know about that, wouldn’t he? He would have to be pretty damn hypocritical to judge me for having a baby with my wife of over a year, though, considering how he went about the same process in reverse.
Once we’re finished with the meeting, which probably accomplished a lot more than I was paying attention to, we part ways to pack up and head on to the next city. I walk off in a daze, barely even managing to say goodbye to either Issac or Taylor. If that bothered either of them, I didn’t notice that either. Once I’m back in my room, throwing clothes into my suitcase, I call Kate back to apologize for hanging up so suddenly earlier.
She accepts my apology far more readily than I had expected and it only serves to make me feel even more like shit. I’ve done precious little to deserve someone so devoted, so willing to accept whatever I say and do, even when both are absolutely wrong and horrible. I don’t deserve such a wonderful wife. I know I’ve taken her for granted. Wasn’t that the great lesson I was supposed to learn from that alternate reality? Yet I’ve done nothing with that knowledge.
It doesn’t take me long to finish packing, since we’ve only been here for a day and I only brought one of my suitcases in from the bus anyway. I just stuff the clothes into it, shove my soap and things into the inside pocket, and then slam it shut. The longest part of the process is getting the damn thing to zip. The conversation slowed me down a bit, though, so almost everyone is back on the bus by the time I make it downstairs.
Except Taylor, of course.
He’s always running late, especially when packing is involved, but I can’t help thinking he’s deliberately taking his time now to prove a point. Maybe – no, definitely – that he doesn’t want to be around me. I’m still not entirely sure why, and I’m not exactly relishing the idea of trying to find out. We may have communicated better lately than ever before, but if we’re angry, it’s nearly impossible for us to talk. He shuts down and refuses to speak and I snap and start punching things. The two of us angry isn’t a pretty sight, and I just can feel that we’re getting close to that.
In the hopes of avoiding an argument, I settle into the bus couch with my Xbox. I’m choosing the path of least resistance. If I’m absorbed in a game, everyone will hopefully know better than to disturb me. It doesn’t always work out that way, but one can always hope.
Sometimes I’m too hopeful for my own good.
Taylor tumbles onto the bus, humming along with his iPod, but he stops short when he sees me. He looks like he’s going to speak, but he doesn’t. I turn back to my game and try to ignore the way that Taylor is so obviously ignoring me as he wanders around the bus. He takes his time surveying the contents of the fridge, then walks away without even taking anything from it.
Against my better judgment, my worst judgment – all of my judgment combined – I decide to speak. I clear my throat to get his attention, even though I know I already have it, whether he would admit it or not. “Tay. You didn’t congratulate me.”
“Congratu-fucking-lations,” he spits out, his eyes narrowing as he says it.
“Say it like you fucking mean it, I guess,” I reply.
He curls his lip like he’s about to spit some awful reply back at me, but he doesn’t. With a last shake of his head, he walks down the bus’s hallway and slams the door to the back lounge. I shake my head in disbelief. I really don’t know what his problem is, but I know I didn’t improve it any by pressing his buttons. I always do that. I can’t help it. I used to like the way I could get under his skin like that, but now it only seems to get me into trouble.
Only a few seconds later, Isaac walks onto the bus and looks around, hands on his hips. I suppose he can tell there’s tension around, and the closed door to the back lounge pretty much says it all. I just offer him a shrug and turn back to my game, but of course he isn’t willing to let it go that easily.
“Fighting again?”
I give up and pause the game. “It would appear that way.”
“Any particular reason this time?” he asks, but only seeming half concerned. He opens the fridge and grabs a beer. It’s early in the afternoon, but I can’t say that I’m not tempted to do the same, if it would make the rest of this day pass a little easier.
“Fuck if I know why he’s mad. He’s just being Taylor, I guess. Maybe he’ll get over it.”
“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t,” Isaac says, sitting down at the table across from me. “Maybe you should just go ahead and apologize for whatever you did.”
“Why do you assume I did something?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you two act like an old married couple. So if he’s being pissy, and his actual wife isn’t around, I have to conclude that you’re to blame.”
I frown. “Why am I the wife?”
“Because it worked out really well for my metaphor. You can be the husband if you want. What the fuck ever, just go apologize before you guys drag this fight out for weeks like the last one.”
“No. I didn’t do anything wrong,” I reply, pouting and turning back to my game before Ike can see that I’m pouting.
I truly believe that, too, for at least a few minutes. It’s not wrong of me to have sex with my wife, and of course children are bound to be the result of that. I didn’t do anything wrong there. But what if staying with Taylor, what if trying to actually turn this thing into a relationship was wrong? If we can’t ever truly be together the way I want us to be, maybe we shouldn’t be together at all.
Maybe Taylor was right after all, as much as it pains me to admit that that has ever happened, even once. Maybe I have completely misinterpreted my coma dream, alternate reality life. Even if that is the case, I’m damn sure not apologizing to Taylor.