Nineteen: Tantrum
Diana woke me up Sunday morning with a cup of coffee and a skirt in her hand. I almost told her I’m not a big coffee drinker but I sat up and accepted it gratefully instead since she had taken the time and everything.
“Good morning. It’s 6:30 and I’m going to get the kids up in like an hour or so, so you should probably get in the shower now. Do you have anything nice to wear to church? I brought you a skirt of mine if you don’t.”
I tried not to smile at the long, floral skirt that looked like it was bought several decades before. The gesture was… thoughtful to say the least.
“I think I have a black skirt. Do you think that would be okay?”
She smiled and nodded, taking a big sip of her own coffee. “You don’t want to wear my very trendy Talbots skirt that I got before you were born?”
“It’s nice!” I lied.
She laughed. “I’m glad you have something you can wear. Meet me downstairs in 30 minutes to help with breakfast, okay?”
I appreciated how seriously she was taking the whole job. I would have been disappointed and felt guilty if she let me slack off and didn’t insist that I work for my “rent”. It felt good to know that I was earning my keep and the situation couldn’t be considered all pity-based.
Once I’d showered and dressed, I went downstairs and stood before Diana who was cracking eggs into a bowl and singing to herself.
“Is this okay?”
She looked up at my black skirt and blouse to examine me before nodding. “Are you planning on wearing those brown shoes?”
I shrugged, trying to mumble that they were all I had in a voice quiet enough so that she might not hear me and just move on in the conversation. They were giving enough to me. I didn’t need them thinking they needed to find me black shoes too. And I certainly didn’t want to seem like I was asking for anything.
“What did you say?”
“They’re all I have,” I said a little bit louder.
“Can you fit into a size eight? I’m sure Jessica will have a pair of shoes you could borrow, if you want. I don’t even want to know how many pairs of black shoes I’ve bought her that all look exactly the same. She is always telling me she needs a new pair though…” she rambled like her son. I loved them both for that trait.
“They might be a bit big, but I can try… if Jessica didn’t mind that is,” I said, joining her at the counter and looking to see what I could do. “What exactly are we making?”
She nodded at a pile of French toast. “I’ve just started the French toast… could you get the cantaloupe from the fridge and cut that for me?”
“You’ve just started?” I laughed at the growing pile of toast. It was already at least 10 pieces high.
“I have a lot of mouths to feed,” she replied, tossing a soppy piece of bread onto the sizzling frying pan. I found the cantaloupe from the fridge, pulled a knife out of the knife holder, and began cutting it into even slices.
“I didn’t know families really did this.”
“Did what?”
“Made real breakfasts with fresh fruit and… I didn’t realize people still did the traditional Sundays of going to church and all that,” I confessed, placing the slices into a bowl I found in the cabinets. Slowly but surely, after the month I’d spent babysitting, I was becoming an expert at knowing my way around the Hanson family kitchen. “I thought it was just in movies or disappeared with the Cleavers… or something.”
She laughed. “There definitely aren’t many families that still come together on Sundays, if you want to know the truth. At least, I don’t get the impression that there are. I’ve always tried really hard to make sure the family always spends time together and goes to church on Sundays though. Ever since we started traveling with the boys and life got crazy I told myself that I had to maintain as much routine for the family as I could. I refused to let everyone grow apart due to busy schedules and fame and all of that. Four years later, I’ve stuck with that promise. My kids gripe and groan when I make them get up every Sunday morning, but I don’t care. I’ve always been so scared that we would all of sudden not be down-to-earth anymore, or the family would start falling apart because of how much pressure there is during touring. Knowing that Sundays are how they’ve always been since my children were tiny… well that makes it’s all right.”
“I didn’t think you guys would be this down to earth, actually. Before I met Taylor, before I met any of you, I heard rumors around town of girls in my high school running into Ike, Tay, and Zac at like stores and everything. Some girls liked to say that Taylor was a snob to them,” I laughed. “I cannot even imagine Taylor being snobby. He’s too nerdy.”
Diana flipped a piece of French toast and pointed the spatula at me. “Well you know, I’m not surprised to hear that. He’s straightened out lately… actually, a lot since he met you. But around the time that the boys released This Time Around he picked up this unattractive, almost conceited attitude… worse than he is now, if you can imagine!”
“Oh god, I can’t.”
“He was distant with the family and always flying back and forth to see his girlfriend at the time.”
“How long were they together?” I asked, enjoying the opportunity to gossip about Taylor and put answers to the questions I’d been wondering about but never wanted to ask him.
“Oh goodness, I think a year and a half? They were always off and on… more on than off, but I want to say they met two Junes ago. She lives in the same hometown as Zac’s girlfriend and last year around this time it was Taylor, not Zac, whining that he couldn’t get on a plane and fly out to Georgia whenever he so desired.”
“Was she nice?”
“Natalie?”
I nodded.
“She’s a nice girl. I don’t think any of us liked her nearly as much as we like you,” she smirked at me. “But she always seemed nice enough to me. I think she was the type of girl Taylor thought he was supposed to date. She was a cheerleader and giggled a lot… I remember she once spent like two hours getting ready when we were on tour.”
“I can’t picture Taylor being happy with someone that high maintenance,” I admitted as I got another bowl to pile more pieces of melon into. I couldn’t help but feel a little bit competitive with her.
“I think he finally realized that she wasn’t his type either. He says they’re still friends and I think they parted on decent terms, but I guess he wouldn’t tell me anyway if they didn’t,” she said thoughtfully. “He’s so open about most things, but he’s never really told me much about his love life. He talks about you more than most.”
I couldn’t help but beam- glad to be the girl that stood out to him. A month ago it would have made me uncomfortable to know he was thinking about me that much, but I had grown to just accept and embrace it for what it was.
“He’s changed a lot in the last six months though, and like I said, especially lately. He’s never been a bad kid really, and I would never go as far as to say he was a snob. But I think for awhile he was sort of riding on a high horse and testing limits. He’s over the whole going out and drinking, trying drugs, being a moody teenager phase for the most part. And Zac’s just moving into it,” she rolled her eyes. “Hopefully he’s learned from some of the times Taylor got himself into trouble.”
“I can’t picture Taylor being as moody as Zac is,” I laughed. Zac had made it very obvious in the time that I’d known the Hanson’s that he didn’t easily listen to authority and he resented his family in general.
“Oh, he was probably worse. And don’t let Taylor fool you. He controls himself around you for the most part for the sake of his image, but he can still be just as sulky and whiney as Zac can be. I’m sure you’ll find that out in no time,” she winked, walking over to the table and setting down plates and silverware. I stood there finishing cutting the fruit and letting Diana’s words run through my mind. It was fascinating to hear a mother, a real mother, talk about their children the way she did. She knew them so well and talked like she actually cared about the people they were becoming. I could never picture my Mom talking about me the way Diana did. For one she didn’t care enough, and secondly she didn’t know me nearly as well as Diana seemed to know her children.
We worked quietly, Diana humming, for awhile until the pile had doubled and I had finished cutting all the fruit up. It felt nice to prepare a nice, perfect breakfast with her. I’d never seen a breakfast like it before except for the previous time I was at their house.
“Alright. Shall we get everyone up? You want to wake the girls and I’ll get the boys?”
I nodded, thankful I wouldn’t have to experience Isaac and Zac in their boxer shorts. We marched up the stairs together and then split to begin waking everyone.
I knocked first quietly on Avery and Jessica’s room. When I didn’t get a response, I slowly pushed it open a crack and peered in at the sleeping sisters. Was I being intrusive? It felt odd to be waking them up my first real morning in their house.
“Jessica… Avery,” I said hesitantly. “Guys, your Mom asked me to get you two up for church.”
They stirred and after a second Avery sat up to look at me. “Is breakfast ready?” she mumbled.
“Yep. It’s all ready so go downstairs and get some.”
She sniffed. “Is it waffles or French toast?”
“French toast.”
“Yes!” she cried, tearing his covers off and getting out of bed. She slipped on a pair of slippers I’d seen Jessica usually wearing and ran by me.
“You gonna get up, Jessica? It’s almost eight.” I spoke hesitantly to her. Somehow I felt like I was almost intruding on her role in the family by moving into the Hanson’s house, and I was careful not to step over an boundaries. She’d always been pleasant to me, but I’d always felt like her demeanor was forced in order to obey her parents.
She groaned and pulled the covers off of her head. “I am so tired. I didn’t get to bed until 3. This is brutal.”
“What were you doing until 3 in the morning?”
She sat up and raised an eyebrow at me much like her brother usually did. It was interesting how similar her expressions were to his, and she had his same naturally arched eyebrows and blue eyes. “Nothing important.”
“It must have been important if you sacrificed sleep for it,” I teased.
She hesitated for a moment, finally raising the same eyebrow again and asking, “Do you promise you won’t tell my Mom? Or Taylor? Or anyone with he last name Hanson come to think of it.”
“I won’t tell.” Was she actually opening up to me?
She tossed the covers off of her and get out of bed, grabbing a towel from a rack on her closet door. “This boy. My friends older brother. He’s 16. He drives,” she grinned. “Sorta… cute…”
“You’re thirteen?”
“I’ll be fourteen in the summer. I’ll be down after I shower.” She draped the towel over her head and disappeared into the hall and behind the bathroom door. We didn’t say much, but I considered the conversation successful.
When I looked down at the bathroom the boys shared, Taylor was standing in nothing but his red boxer shorts and leaning his forehead against the bathroom door with his eyes closed. I smirked at him, wondering what time he went to bed the night before.
He didn’t open his eyes, just pounded on the door a few times slowly and moaning, “Get. Out. Now.” He was completely oblivious to the fact that I was standing there watching him. When there was no response from the other side of the door, he starting banging harder. “Zac! Get out! You said you were just going to be a minute and I’ve been standing here for almost five! Hurry the hell up.”
I watched Taylor flinch for a minute, open his eyes, and press his cheek to the door. “Did I just hear the shower turn on?”
“Go away, Taylor!” A muffled voice came from the other side of the bathroom door.
“You jackass! You said you just wanted to wash up! You said you weren’t going to shower! I called the shower before you!”
I bit my lip to avoid laughing out loud at Taylor’s temper tantrum. If he turned and saw me standing at the other end of the hall, my show would be over and that would be more unfortunate.
Taylor turned the locked door knob a few times, despite the fact that he knew it was already locked, and then kicked the bottom of the door swiftly. “I called the shower before you Zac! That is so cheap! You are so… freaking dumb,” he said, probably censoring himself since he was standing in the middle of a high traffic area in his house. He gave the door one final kick and turned to walk back into his room when he noticed me.
I smirked at him and he shot back a sheepish smile.
“I… Zac… I called the shower and he…” he sighed, a smile still playing on his lips. “Want to just down and eat breakfast? It’s ready… right?”
I laughed and looked him up and down, just to make him uncomfortable in his boxers. To my disappointment, he seemed to enjoy the once over more than I’d expected.
“You gonna go down in boxers?”
He stepped close to me, wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my lips. He did it so confidently and in such a laid back way, but I knew him well enough he was still getting used to us being together and he was probably afraid I’d push him away.
“If you want me too,” he raised an eyebrow at him.
I laughed and stepped out of his embrace, opening Zoe’s bedroom door. “I’m getting your sister up. Meet me downstairs for breakfast.”
He nodded and disappeared into his bedroom.
As I walked over to the sleeping child, I wondered if I was allowed to eat. Suddenly the realization hit me that I was still working. People don’t sit and eat breakfast with their boyfriend when they’re working. My job should be no different. I stepped close to Zoe’s bed and rubbed her back gently.
“Wake up, sweetheart,” I said in my best imitation of Diana Hanson. “It’s time for breakfast.”
Zoe stirred and then looked at me, rubbing her eyes and resting her head against her pillow. She slept late for a four year old. I was impressed.
“Do you live here now?” was the first thing she said.
“Yes I do. Do you remember the room that’s all for me?” I said, scooping her into my arms and melting as she wrapped her arms around me and rested her little face on my shoulder.
“Right down the hall,” she nodded, fingering my hair with her tiny fingers as I carefully took each stair at a time. She was only four, but she was pretty tall and heavy in my arms.
When we arrived at the kitchen table more than half of the food was already gone. Taylor was already standing there eating a piece of bacon while standing up. He was still shirtless, I noticed. He was probably trying to show off the muscles I knew he was working on with the weights in the basement. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you want to look at it, he had put on the same sweatpants he’d been wearing the night before.
Isaac, Avery, Mackenzie, Diana, and Walker sat the table all trying to talk over each other and eat at the same time. v I put Zoe down and she went running over to her usual spot at the table, climbing onto her booster seat and reaching eagerly for a piece of the cantaloupe I’d cut.
I could feel Taylor’s eyes on me as he stood there chomping on bacon blatantly staring at me and not trying to hide it. Fortunately, the rest of the family was so preoccupied with everything else I was the only one to really nice.
I made eye contact with him so he knew I saw him but he just continued to chew with his mouth open and watch me. What did I find attractive about him again?
“Taylor, where’s the fire?” Walker suddenly said to him.
He looked over- confused.
“Sit down and have something to eat. And chew with your mouth closed,” Diana added in as she reached around the table preparing a plate for Zoe. She didn’t even glance at him. It was if the line was part of the routine- said every morning. I didn’t doubt it.
“I’m waiting for the shower,” he said, reaching over Avery’s head and taking a piece of bacon from her plate. “I don’t want Ike to get in before me.”
“I need more time to get ready than you do,” Isaac said pointing a fork in Taylor’s direction thoughtfully. “I always take longer. I should go first.”
“I was already cheated by Zac,” Taylor rolled his eyes. He frowned. “Speaking of which…” I watched as Taylor crossed the room, stood at the bottom of the stairs, and screamed up them. “GET OUT OF THE SHOWER ALREADY!”
“Taylor!” his father said, turning and glaring at his impatient son. “Sit down and chill out!”
I watched as Taylor’s expression became anything but submissive. He grinned to himself and wandered over towards the bathroom that was off the kitchen- directly below his bathroom upstairs. The entire family leaned to watch him turn the faucet on hot in the bathroom sink.
“You know that’s just going to start a fight,” Diana warned with a sigh.
Taylor looked over at me and smirked, walking over to the table with the water still running and sitting down. “The pipes are connected for the two bathrooms. His water is going to freeze.”
“Go turn that off!” Walker said, the only sensible one in the room. Everyone else seemed to just shrug off Taylor’s prank as if it happened every morning. And again, I didn’t doubt it. “Do you pay the water bill?”
“It’s hardly wasting water!” Taylor chuckled, reaching out and grabbing a piece of toast and putting it on a plate.
I stood awkwardly to the side of the room watching everyone eat, assessing the table to make sure nothing was running out. Was there enough butter? Two sticks. Syrup? Plenty.
“Taylor,” Walker said sternly, putting his fork down on his plate.
Taylor sighed and got up from his chair, clearly irritated by his father. He dragged his feet to the bathroom again, turned off the water, and then came back, raising an eyebrow at his dad.
“There you go,” he muttered, shoving a piece of French toast into his mouth. He all of a sudden turned and looked at me as if he had forgotten about me for a moment. “Gab, sit down and eat.”
I looked back and forth from Taylor to Diana. They were both watching me. Didn’t they understand? I was working.
“I’ll eat when… when there’s time in a bit. I was just about to get Zoe some juice,” I said, noticing that she had never been given a sippy cup.
Before they could say anything, we all turned to the stairs where we could hear the bathroom door burst open upstairs and Zac begin yelling. His footsteps pounded down the steps and he appeared with soaking hair in a pair of jeans with a towel around his neck.
“Thanks a lot, Taylor,” he spat, taking the towel and smacking Taylor’s face with it. Taylor gasped, a sound that almost resembled a 12 year old girl, and clawed at the towel until he was free from it.
“Get your gross towel off me,” he mumbled.
Zac took the towel and began to rub it all over Taylor’s head. The entire family just went about their business as if they weren’t being immature children at the table.
“Get the hell away from me!” Taylor yelled as Zac snickered and stopped, putting the towel back around his neck and finding his spot at the table.
Diana looked at Taylor disappointedly.
“Look at him like that!” Taylor announced. “He’s the one being an idiot.”
I was getting my first taste of the Taylor they all knew. It was still Taylor, don’t get me wrong, but his tender age of 18 was so much more obvious when he was sitting at the breakfast table being harassed by his little brother.
Zac gave his mother an innocent smile before piling food onto his plate too.
Taylor turned back to me. “Gab, I’m taking a shower…” He turned and looked pointedly at Isaac when he said that. “Take my seat and eat breakfast.”
He got up, took my arm, pulled me over to his chair and then patted me on the head. “Good job. Now get food.”
I looked at Diana nervously. Was I supposed to be eating? She’d hired me. It was okay for everyone else to eat because everyone else earned their keep by their blood alone. I, however, was the only person in the home without Hanson DNA and was probably expected to wait. I was working for them after all.
“You heard him. Grab something to eat,” Diana insisted as Taylor gave his mother a tight smile and left to take a shower before Isaac could beat him to it.
“Shouldn’t I wait?” I tried to whisper across the table. “Technically, I’m working right now.”
“Gabrielle!” she said in a shocked voice that caused everyone to silence and look at me. Oh, just great. “Of course you can eat now! You and I are going to have to establish how this is going to work later. But for now I insist that you take a piece of toast and start eating.”
“Yes, but-”
“Go ahead!” she said sternly in a similar tone to what I’d heard her use with Taylor just moments before. Despite her firm tone, I could tell by the softer expression on her face that she wasn’t angry at me, just trying to be tough with me. Zoe giggled, probably because her mother had reprimanded me.
“Relax, okay? Put something on your plate and just relax.”
If only she knew how much easier that sounded. It was hard to relax when I was torn in between wanting to feel cared for and loved, but not wanting to feel pitied. I sighed. I saw no other option but to take two pieces of French toast, lather them in syrup, and somehow lose myself to the conversation at the Hanson table.