Christmas was hellish. And it takes a lot for me to say that; I’m a holiday person, and I was the only Hanson family member who didn’t mind spending the celebration in O’Hare Airport the year I was nine and our layover flight was canceled because of snow.
Abs and I spent the endless parade of celebrations (and there were a lot of them: our families are so close we end up at all the same peoples’ houses) dancing around each other. She would nod at me from across the room and then pull a disappearing act, or I would manage a slight smile and book. It was so ludicrous, but it was the only thing either of us could think to do.
I was also haunted by the ever-present Reagan Larkspur, who had managed to turn much of the teen population of northern Oklahoma against me, and by songs with lyrics such as “I miss you most at Christmas time,” and “All I want for Christmas is you.” Damn that Mariah Carey...
One night, around the middle of January, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, kicking off the blankets and grabbing them back, listening to Zac’s peaceful breathing and Isaac’s snoring, reminiscent of a steamroller over gravel.
Finally, tired of lying there, tired of following my mind through its eternal maze of irrelevant thought, I swung my feet over the side of the bed and walked out into the hallway. My father was in New York, attending meetings with Steve Greenberg and Chris Sabec, and Mom slept more and more soundly as her stomach grew. My siblings all sleep like logs, so I knew there was little chance of my waking anyone up.
I wandered aimlessly down the stairs, eventually ending up in the kitchen, where I microwaved water for hot chocolate. I think I put in too much liquid, though, and as I sat in the den watching Laverne and Shirley, petting the dustbunnie of a dog we’d gotten for Christmas and enjoying my heated chocolate water, I realized I was no more of a refugee from my thoughts than I had been upstairs.
The minutes ticked by on the grandfather clock that hangs in the den, and Laverne had turned into Lucy, who had turned into Mary Tyler Moore, before I was disturbed.
“Tay?” Ike’s voice, gravelly with sleep and tinged with something unrecognizable-fear?- snapped me out of my sitcom-induced trance.
“Yeah?”
“I think you’d better come up here.”
Abby
“I’ll reach out my hand to you,
I’ll have faith in all you do.
Just call my name,
and I’ll be there.” ~ The Jackson Five, “I’ll Be There”
I hadn’t been back in school for more than two weeks when I awoke without the help of my alarm, rolled over, and saw that the clock read nine-oh-six. Sitting straight up in bed like the parents in Home Alone, I would have put my hands to my face and screamed if I hadn’t gotten a look out the window just then; Tulsa suddenly resembled the North Pole. Another glance outside revealed that we must have gotten at least three inches, and as my brain cleared, I realized school must be closed.
I happily bounced out of bed; I can never get back to sleep once I’m awake and it’s light outside. I put on the furry leopard-print slippers I’d gotten for Christmas, and bounded down the stairs.
When I entered the kitchen, there was a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing at the counter, facing away from me. I was about to open my mouth, asking “Dad?” when harsh reality hit: Don’t be stupid, Abby. Your father doesn’t live here anymore.
“Hey, Jason,” I greeted my older brother.
“Morning.” He looked at me with a half smile, as if he knew something I didn’t and was enjoying his superiority of information, and held up the orange juice container. I shook my head, standing on tiptoe to look out the window above the sink at the snow-covered backyard.
“How many inches?”
“Three and a half.”
I nodded. “Where’s Mom?” My mother is dedicated to her job as a real estate agent, but I didn’t think she’d go to work in weather like this. Who would want to look at houses with three and a half inches of snow on the ground?
“At the hospital.”
All thought of my father flew out of my mind, and my heart skipped a beat. “Elaborate, please.” Jason wouldn’t be acting this nonchalant if something bad had happened, would he? Ever the pescimist, a thousand catastrophic scenarios flooded my brain. I could hear Rugrats on in the playroom; Janie was fine. Clara?
After watching my face for a moment, amused, Jason let me in on the secret. “Diana’s having the baby.”
My jaw positively dropped; I actually felt it. “Diana Hanson? Now?”
“How many other pregnant Dianas do you know?”
“Well, none.”
“Well, there you go. Walker’s out of town, Ike had to drive her to the hospital.” Jason spoke of Taylor’s brother with a newfound respect.
“Where’re the rest of them?”
“The kids? Clara’s over there; Mom woke her up when Taylor called.”
I nodded, indignant that I hadn’t been stirred. Taylor was my friend- or at least something to that effect.
“Is Taylor at the hospital?” I hoped Jason would say no. There I go getting maternal again, but ever since his grandma...well, Taylor has a hard time in hospitals. I wasn’t crazed about the idea of Tay and Ike there without Walker. Mom was there, but still...
“Yeah.”
Damn. I thought for a moment. “Jay, I need you to take me to the hospital.”
Jason stared at me, pausing with his glass of orange juice halfway to his lips. “Are you crazy? Abby, the reason you’re not in school today is that the roads are dangerous.”
“The reason they closed school today is that they probably couldn’t get the heat to work and they don’t want to be sued for neglect. It’s not far, Jay. She’s at Jenks General, right?”
“Jenks is twenty minutes away, Abs.”
“Jason . if you won’t take me to that hospital, I’ll find someone who will. And do you really want me on the road with Clara at the wheel in weather like this?”
My brother opened his mouth to object, and then closed it with a sigh. I had left no room for argument.
“We can drop off Janie at the Hanson’s on the way,” I called triumphantly over my shoulder, running up the stairs to get dressed.
“Why are you doing this again?” Jay questioned. “I didn’t even think you and Taylor were speaking. You avoided him like the plague for all of vacation.”
“I did not,” I protested, pointing at some ice in the road. Jay swerved.
“Well, maybe I avoided him a little, but it’s not that we aren’t speaking, exactly.” I could feel a blush starting to creep up my neck, and I scowled. “It’s hard to explain. I just have to be there.”
Taylor
“How did I get here- what have I done?” ~ Eric Clapton, “My Father’s Eyes”
I was tired. I had been sitting in the same hard, unforgiving plastic chair for-a quick glance at the ever-present watch- about six hours now, and my behind was just about asleep. Much like Isaac- he had passed out around seven that morning.
I think it was when I could swear I heard someone page “Doctor Spock” that I decided I needed a change of scenery. A call had been delivered to Dad in New York, and he was due any minute- maybe when he got here I’d head home. Maybe I could get a ride back to the house with Faith. Although, I thought wryly, producing a dollar from the back pocket of my jeans, she was so caffed-up on coffee, I wasn’t really sure I wasnted to be in a moving vehicle with her at the wheel.
I scanned the vending machine for something other than Chee-tos and gum, but to no avail. I was comtemplating heading down to the cafeteria when a voice startled me out of my reverie.
“Some breakfast, huh?”
I turned around, and tried not to look too surprised at who was standing behind me. “Hey, Abs.”
“So, is there a new little Hanson yet?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. I haven’t heard anything yet.”
Abby nodded. “So, um, do you wanna go get some real food?” She paused. “Well, as real as it gets in a hospital.”
I cracked a smile. “Sure.”
We rode the elevator down to the cafeteria in silence. As we got off, I touched her arm. “Abs?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For coming, I mean. I was getting a little crazed.”
Abby took a sudden interest in her boots. “I figured.” A moment of silence as her hand grazed my fingertips, unsure as to whether or not to take my mine. “Well, what was I gonna do, not show up? You’re my best friend.”
I smiled. “Well, thanks anyway.”
