Taylor
"Spractor, Spractor C, Spreet, Spring. Ah, there we go!" Taylor exclaimed triumphantly, "Sping, E. Spring, G. Spring, Mark. Spring, N. Spring, Nancy. Dammit, there's too many Springs!"
He looked accusingly at the phone book, and began to drum his fingers.
Did she ever mention her mom or dad's name? No, duh! She wouldn't even mention her name.
"Ugh!" he exclaimed, slamming the book closed.
"What are you doing, dear?" Mrs Hanson asked, coming into the kitchen.
"Trying to find No Na- Cheyenne's number."
"Look it up," Mrs Hanson solved, shrugging, and helping herself to a cup of coffee.
"I tried. There are thousands of Springs!" he exaggerated, "Hey, you know, what? I'm 'looking for spring'." He smiled at his pun on the line in the old song he and his brothers had written.
Mrs Hanson smiled, too, before saying, "What was her name?"
"Cheyenne Spring."
"Spring?!"
"Cheyenne Spring," he repeated.
"Oh! There was a flutist and singer whom I just loved! Their last name was Spring! They were a husband and wife team, married the same year as Walker and I. Rachel-Anne and Edward Spring. They played classical music. Rachel-Anne could really sing! I used to play it for Isaac, before you were born," Mrs Hanson recalled, her eyes glowing.
"What happened to them?"
"Oh, they had a daughter in the September after you were born, and moved to Canada five years later. You know what? I am going to play the tape for you!"
Mrs Hanson stood up and went off to find it, Taylor trooping off behind her. Humming, she found it, took the tape out, and handed Tay the case.
He stared at the couple in the picture on the flap.
Edward was a big man. He cleared six feet easily. His hair was brown and he had green eyes.
He doesn't look at all like Cheyenne. Too tall.
Rachel-Anne wasn't tall. She was short, but not terribly small. But it wasn't her height that surprised Taylor. It was her face. It was like seeing a picture of Cheyenne in the future. Rachel-Anne's face was round, and she had big brown eyes. And her smile was almost identical to Cheyenne's. She also had a cute smile, where the left side was up a bit higher than the right. Well, there was her hair, too...long and beautiful.
"Mom, that is Cheyenne's mom! They look so much alike!"
Zac
"Want to come over, Zacman?"
"Yeah, hold on," Zac replied covering the mouthpiece, "Mom! Can I go over to Jared's?"
"Okay. Be back at four, on the nose."
"Four?" Zac whined, "That's only an hour!"
"I don't care. You and Tay have to go to the doctor."
"Mom! It's just a cold," Zac pouted.
"Yes, I know, But we can't have the two of you losing your voices. You are coming home at four, or you aren't going at all. Take your pick."
Zac stuck his tongue out at his mom's back, and told Jared, "Yeah, but I have to be home in an hour."
"Okay. Cassie is here, too."
"Okay, see ya."
"Later."
Zac slammed down the phone, and raced out of the house, shutting the door, good and hard.
Whistling a happy, made-up song, Zac sprinted down the street, three blocks east, and four houses down.
Cassie and Jared were in the yard.
"Hey!" Zac cried.
"Zacman!" Jared greeted, punching Zac's arm.
"Hi, Zacky."
Zac exclaimed, "So, what's up?"
"We-ell, you're almost 13," Cassie reminded.
"Yeah.." he knew where this was going, and was excited.
"Shut up! Don't play stupid with us, Hanson!" Jared exclaimed.
"It happened to Tay, Josh, Ike, Brad, Cassie, Rachel," Jared continued, ticking off friends on his fingers.
Zac could hold out no longer.
"Yay!" he cheered, "When are we going?! When are we going?!"
Cassie giggled, "On your birthday, on your birthday!"
"Yipeeee!" Zac cried, grabbing Cassie's hands, and jumping up and down.
"You'll be here?" Cassie asked, jumping with Zac.
"You can bet on it!" Zac replied, "But I'll have to check."
Taylor
"Mom, I told you I didn't need medicine," Zac taunted, "I am too strong to be sick."
"Oh sure, Zac. You are just a macho man," Taylor told him, for unlike his brother, he did need medicine.
"Better safe than sorry," replied Mrs Hanson, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.
"Guess what?" Zac cried.
"What?" Mrs Hanson and Taylor (with fake enthusiam, unlike his mom) asked.
"Cassie and Jared are planning the traditional thirteenth birthday party for me!"
"Cool, Zac!" Taylor exclaimed, no faking this time.
The 'traditional thirteenth birthday party' had been going on for quite awhile. The person with a birthday and his/her friends went up to a cave by a swamp/pond, and had a sleepover. It wasn't the cave, or the sleepover, or even the swamp. It was the message it brought. It was like the graduation from childhood. Tradition.
"We'll be here, right?" Zac asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Probably, dear."
Taylor stared out his window, at the houses zooming by.
"Mom, we're two blocks away from Cheyenne's house," Taylor announced.
"She lives on 44th?"
"Mmmmmmmhmmmmmm," was the reply, "I read it by Spring E. in the phone book. Can we stop?"
"What for?" Mrs Hanson asked.
"Well, Cheyenne and I have an incredible knack for running into each other. So, I brought her book."
"Well, we should drop it off," Mrs Hanson replied, pulling onto 44th.
About 5 minutes later, Taylor was getting out of the car.
"Tay, be polite. These are the Springs. Could you please tell Mr Spring that I love his music, and that I wish him and his wife the best? I think they're just great! And, I can't believe I'm in the driveway of their home!"
"Sheesh, Mom. A little bit of a teeny are we?"
She laughed, "Just be polite."
Taylor ran up to the porch of the big, peach mansion and rang the bell.
A tall man whom Taylor immediately recognized answered the door.
"Hello? Can I help you?"
"Yes, sir. Is Cheyenne home?" Please let this be the right house. Please let Cheyenne be home. Please let this be the right Springs. Please don't let Mom turn into a teeny. Please-
Mr Spring was eyeing Taylor very critically, which was making him antsy. Taylor glanced at his mom and Zac in the van. From his mom's grin, he knew this was Edward Spring.
Jeez! Did he have to pass some kind of test before Mr Spring let him see his daughter? Sheesh! If he was going to lay one on her, which he had NO intention of doing, he wouldn't do it with Mr Spring watching and his mom in the van! Taylor shifted uncomfortably.
"Yes, she is. Come in."
Finally!
Mr Spring held the door, and Taylor went in.
"Uh, sir?" Gosh, why did he have to say this?
"What?"
"Mom is a big fan of your music and she wishes you and your wife the best." There, over with.
Mr Spring grunted something that sounded pleased, smiled at Taylor, and left him in the entrance. Mr Spring smiled at him again, and Taylor had to smile too. At least his mom's comment had gotten him in Mr Spring's good books. Mr Spring ran up a flight of stairs, and Taylor was left alone. After a couple of minutes, Cheyenne came down.
"Hi, Taylor."
"Hello, Cheyenne!"
"How'd you guess my name?"
"Simple," Taylor held up her piano books, "CHEYENNE SPRING."
Cheyenne took her book and hugged it to her.
"Thank you," she replied.
"You're welcome. Why wouldn't you tell me your name?"
Cheyenne snorted, "You don't give up, do you?"
"Nope."
"Well, I don't have to tell you. If I scream, Dad'll be down in an instant. He said he'd kick your sorry butt right outta here if you tried anything on me," she told him, a hint of her lopsided smile playing on her lips.
"I'm not trying anything on you."
"I know. You have a girlfriend. But, Dad said it didn't matter. He said he remembered being fifteen," Cheyenne continued, the smile full blown now.
"I'm not leaving until you tell me. So there."
"You're stubborn," she told him.
"You like power."
"You like to make me mad," Cheyenne pointed out.
"Tell me! And besides, I think it's you who likes to make me mad."
"Oh, fine! I didn't want to tell you because of who's daughter I am. I didn't want you to have any expectations of me. Because, as you heard, I'm not exactly musically inclined, like my parents. I didn't want you to think, "Well, she's not exactly a chip off the block!" It's not my fault. It's not like I haven't tried."
"That's it? Doesn't the name Taylor Hanson bring up any stereotypes?"
Cheyenne shrugged, "Well, kinda. Of a long haired keyboardist, who stamps his leg, and has thousands of girls hanging off of him, in a boy band." Spoken like a true anti-hanson.
"I resent that!" he exclaimed.
She giggled.
"Hey, didn't mean it. I actually bought Snowed In. And Mmmbop is pretty darn good. You are not a boy band. Hanson's here to stay, and I don't mind."
"Good," he smiled. That was better. Boy band his foot.
"Phone me when you're done your test?"
"Why?" she blinked.
"So I can see if I have any talents as a tutor."
"Okay," she shrugged again.
Taylor went to the door, thinking, "She's definately weird. But not as weird as I thought. And is weird a bad thing?"
Isaac
"Go see Uncle Isaac," Shae said, bouncing Sydney over to Isaac. She tickled Sam.
Isaac lay Sydney down on the blanket and said in the tone of voice he used with Zoe, "This little piggy went to the market. This little piggy went to town. This little piggy had roast beef. This little piggy had none. This little piggy went wee-wee-wee, all the way home."
Shae laughed.
It was a warm fall day, and Isaac and Shae had taken the twins to a park in her old neighborhood, which was a comfortable middle class one. The park was hardly used. Ike was glad. Being seen by press, fans, etc, with a teenage girl and babies caused his mind to jump to some conclusions.
"Cute rhyme," Shae smiled, her cheeks rosey, "Where'd you learn it? The twins-"
"Hello, Shae."
Isaac cocked his head to the new voice. It came from a short, slender woman, with slighlty greying brown hair.
"Hi, Mother," Shae replied, suddenly subdued. She took the red cap off Sam's head, and began to nervously fiddle with it.
"How are you?" asked her mom. Isaac watched as her attention became 100% focused on the twins.
"Fine, thank you. Mom, this is my boyfriend, Isaac Hanson," Shae curtly introduced.
"Hello, Isaac. Pleased to meet you. I'm Shae's mother, Mrs Morgan."
Isaac shook her hand, and watched Shae's eyebrows crinkle into an annoyed mass.
"You had better put that cap back on the baby. Are they yours?"
"Yes, Mother. This is Samuel Fredrick," Shae told her, coldly, motioning at the baby in her lap, "And the one Isaac is holding is Sydney Leanne."
Mrs Morgan stepped forward, "Can I hold them?"
"Whatever," Shae said, sounding bored, and shrugging.
Mrs Morgan picked up Sydney and smiled at her.
"She looks likes you. She has your eyes."
"That's nice."
"She's very pretty. And, hello there, Sammie!"
Shae's eyes were beyond annoyed now. Isaac knew she didn't like Mrs Morgan holding them, and babying them.
"They seem to be getting along well. How are you, money wise?"
"Mother, I don't really think that's your business anymore."
"Well, Shae, dear," Mrs Morgan continued, giving Sam back to Shae, after plopping a big kiss on his head, "Your dad and I were thinking. Maybe you should move back in with us. We miss you. And we'd like to watch the twins growing up--maybe be a part of their lives. It would be easier for you."
Shae practically laughed, but she reached for Isaac's hand anyway, for moral support, "Mom, you didn't miss them until now. If you would have, you would have phoned, or came over. You would've tried to see them. You would've tried to see me. How can you even ask that? We are fine the way we are. If you were so worried, you wouldn't have kicked me out."
"Shae, that's not true. We were trying to teach you a lesson."
"It was a crap lesson, Mom. Nobody would do that to somebody they loved. So, I don't know how you can even tell me these lies about missing us, and loving us, and being worried," Shae dropped Sam's hat and bent over to pick it up.
"Let me hold Sam. You can get the hat easier that way."
"No! Keep your hands away from him! I don't want you touching him, or holding him, or pretending to love him! You aren't going to hurt them too."
"Then at least let me get the hat."
"Mother, I am fine. You don't have to worry about me anymore. For whatever reason that fleeting remembrance you had of me and the twins isn't enough. So, just stop!"
"Shae, don't be so difficult! I am trying to apologize."
"Mom, you didn't seem to care earlier. I can't forgive you. Dammit, you didn't even phone the hospital to see if I was okay after the delivery. And, it was Tracey who drove me to the hospital and not you!"
She squeezed Isaac's hand, and bit her lip.
"Shae, listen to me. This is our problem. We can't listen to each other," Mrs Morgan looked genuinely sorry, but she was beginning to look tired of arguing too. She wasn't looking at Shae very much, more at the twins. And Isaac could tell that she was proud of them, and maybe even proud of Shae.
"No! You listen to me for a change! I spent a very long time listening to you. About how I would never amount to anything because of this, how I was such a failure, how Whitney would never get in this mess, how I was such a disappointment. You know what? I'm sick of listening! Sick of it! So, would you please just leave me alone? You kicked me out of your life, and I sure as hell don't want you in mine!"
Mrs Morgan looked hurt, but muttered, "I understand. Nice to see you, Shae. The twins look very well. You are taking good care of them."
She leaned into kiss Sam, but Shae turned away, and put her hand infront of Sydney's face, so that her mother couldn't kiss her, either.
"Whatever, Mom."
Isaac watched Mrs Morgan leave, and felt a tad bit sorry for her. She seemed sorry. It was in the past. Shae sighed dramatically, and Isaac knew her day was ruined.
"Shae?"
"What?"
"Don't you think you should forgive her?"
"What?!?! Did I hear you right? Weren't you listening to me either?"
"Shae-"
"No! You agreed with her! You are doing what she did. You are deserting me now too. How could you say that? Didn't you listen? Why doesn't anybody listen?"
Tears formed in her eyes, and spilled.
"Isaac, I thought you were different! How could you say that? Do you think I'm not being a good mother? Just tell me."
"No, I don't think that. But, didn't you say you had to get rid of your phoneline because of the cost? What about that? They could help you," Isaac tried desperately to prove his point.
"I don't want anything to do with them! Isaac, you promised you wouldn't do this! On the hill. I thought you cared. Well, I know now. Good bye, Isaac. Don't bother calling, or coming over. I don't want to talk to you. You can leave me alone, too," Shae whispered, coldly, taking Sydney and her stuff, and walking away.
"Shae, I didn't mean-"
She kept walking. Isaac sighed. This was some mess that he had gotten himself into. Shae was right. He hadn't listened. Well, he had, but he had notreally heard what she was saying.