CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
TAYLOR
Men don't cry.
They're not supposed to, anyway. That's the belief society has been raised on for many, many years.
Taylor was not a crier. But in the days that followed Mel's explosive reaction to his news he cried more than he had in years. He cried alone, never letting his brothers see him shed a tear. He tried his best to keep a positive attitude at home, but Natalie was on to him. She constantly asked what was wrong with him and he
constantly lied and said he was just nervous about the baby.
It had been a week since he'd seen Mel. She didn't come to the studio, she wouldn't answer nor return any of his calls or texts, and she changed the locks on every door to her house. She was locked down like Fort Knox. There was no getting to her.
So instead he sat in her driveway in his car. He would come at night and just sit. All alone. In silence. In the dark. Sometimes he sat on her front porch, facing her door, back propped against a column. He never knocked or rang the doorbell. He just sat. All alone. In silence. In the dark.
He left her notes. No love letters, no poems or song lyrics. Just small notes. Usually only a few words. Ones that said things such as "I'm sorry" or "Please forgive me" or "I know you don't believe me but I'll never stop loving you." Every day he came back and his notes had disappeared. He knew she was getting them. Yet there was no response from her.
But mostly he just sat. She may not have wanted him there, but at least she would know he was.
Taylor had to resort to asking Isaac and Zac for updates on how Mel was doing. Ike, Nikki, Zac, and Mel's
mother were all taking turns sitting with her. He never knew that it was that bad until he started hearing repeat reports of how she still wouldn't speak to anyone, how she slept constantly, and how she would only eat when someone made her eat. His heart broke more and more every day.
He didn't know how he was living with himself. He just didn't know. How does a person do to another person what he'd done to Mel? How does a person make all sorts of promises to someone and then rip them away as if they meant nothing? How does a person watch the one they love wither away to nothing because of
something you've done, while you go home to your wife and unborn child and live life as if nothing happened? How? Oh, that's right. By not wearing a condom. And by not watching your mouth.
He was disgusted with himself.
Taylor's head wasn't in the writing game that week. Ike and Zac didn't pressure him. He spent a lot of time in Mel's office. She had finally gotten around to painting it. Cream walls with sage border. A small chandelier hung in the center of the room. The office had Mel written all over it. He couldn't bear to leave it. He was aware that the girls in the business office were beginning to notice his excessive entry into Mel's office. He didn't care. He had told them that Mel chose to extend her vacation and there was work in there that needed to be done. Nobody questioned him.
Maybe he was going crazy. He didn't know. It was extremely likely. But in Mel's office he wrote more notes. Post it notes. Of all the things he wanted to say but couldn't because she wouldn't listen. They were littered
everywhere. He stuck them to her desk, her computer monitor, inside her cabinet doors, on the drawer handles and even on the walls. He wrote multiple notes per day, a lot of them saying the same words. Most of them said "I'm sorry."
He had been devastated. Devastated by where his life was leading him. Devastated at the thought of losing Mel again. Devastated by her absence. Devastated by his own stupidity.
And now he was angry. He was completely angry with himself. Angry with Mel for not being willing to see reason. Angry at Natalie for--well--he didn't really know what he was angry at her for, but he was. He hated the world right now.
And so now he was through with notes. Even the notes made him angry. On this particular day, he locked himself inside Mel's office, searched for the nearest sheet of paper, printer paper, and began to write.
"My first ever memory is you. Your curly hair and your pink jumpsuit. I always only wanted to be around you. We shared cookies and loved popscicles. Orange was your favorite. I used to chase you and you would squeal with laughter. You taught me how to kill ants with my thumb. I loved you then.
When we turned five, you went to kindergarten. I was jealous because you got to go to public school and Mom taught us at home. I was crazy jealous when you came to my house and told me stories of playing on the swings and winning stickers for coloring the best picture in your class. I loved you then.
We went trick-or-treating together. Every single year, without fail. We held each other's hands as we crossed the street. You were too shy to ask for candy, so I was your voice. You always chose to wear "boy" costumes like Batman or werewolves. I thought you were weird. I loved you then.
When we were seven you went away. You had no choice. You were the best friend I ever had and then you were gone. I remember the day you left like it was yesterday. I made you a necklace out of brown beads and painted a T in red on the biggest one. I wore a matching one with an M on it. Do you remember those? The necklaces? I wore mine for several years after. Every day. I still have it. And then I cried when they said it was time for you to go. You were strong, you told me not to cry and that we would be best friends forever. You hugged me and it was the first time you ever told me you loved me. But I was so upset I couldn't say it back. I loved you then.
When we were thirteen you stepped into my house, you and Drew. My mother needed a babysitter and your mother volunteered you as soon as you moved back to town. Our friendship started again with a fight. It was always a fight with us, wasn't it? Seems like it still is. Even still, through our teenage years, we did everything together. We went to our first party, we learned to drive, tried our first cigarette. You used to cheat at cards. I always knew you did but I never got mad because I spent the time watching you do it, admiring the cleverness and quick thinking that came with it. I loved you then.
When we were sixteen, our love grew and became defined. We were each other's first kiss. We lost our virginity to each other. You came on tour with me--and maybe traveling with you and my brothers wasn't necessarily the greatest of ideas for all parties involved, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. We
attended our first Hollywood functions together. I showed you New York City for the first time. I loved watching your face as you looked up at the bright lights and tall buildings and how you loved the fast-paced world there. I loved you then.
And then I lost you. I lost the only girl I ever loved because I was stupid for five minutes. Five minutes was all it took to throw all those memories out the window. When we were nineteen, my world changed. Turned upside down. When we were nineteen, you were gone again and I was getting married. I loved you then.
Ten years pass and fate brings us together again in New York City. Life is complicated now. More complicated than it ever has been. There are more players in the game now than ever before. More people, more things to consider. More responsibilities for both of us. But the one thing that isn't complicated and, yet the most complicated thing of all, is how I love you and how I know you love me, too. I love you still.
We will grow old. I wanted to grow old with you. And I still may get that opportunity, just not the way I had wanted. We will turn gray. We will be grandparents. We will retire. And I will love you still.
Life will throw us curveballs and we won't know what to do with them. But over time we will learn to deal with those curveballs and we will persevere over whatever obstacles come our way. One at a time. Fate brought us together three separate times. Most people are lucky if it happens once. Please don't give up on me. I love you now."
Taylor didn't even proofread his work. It wasn't necessary. He simply put down his pen, turned off the light, and locked the door behind him as he exited Mel's office.
______________________________________________________________
Somebody let me down
Somebody show me love
I wouldn't care much either way
I'd rather the sticks and stones
Than dragging the ball and chain
Of "what if the world won't save me?"
Even if the hull should crack
Even if the blood flows red
Nothing could be worse than numb
So please Use Me Up
I just want anyone to Use Me Up
Cause no one ever does Use Me Up
I've carried it all too long
The fear of the pain it brings
Feeling the panic building up
I'd rather the broken heart
Than live in the emptiness
Of "what if the world won't take me?"
Even if the bow should break
Even if the blood runs cold
Nothing could be worse than numb
Please Use Me Up
Treat me some way cruel
You can throw me away
As long as I feel it
Show me something true
You can deceive me
I am yours to use
Use Me Up
Use Me Up
MEL
Mel wished life would go away. She wished the sun would stop coming up in her window. She wished the darkness would stay. She felt the most comfortable in the dark. Darkness was what she was used to. It was what she was most familiar with. It was obviously where she belonged.
She slept all the time, day and night. Her appetite was gone. Her desire for life was gone. She didn't watch television or drink coffee. She didn't enjoy her wine or read any books. The only contact she had with the outside world was through her email, setting up plans for the 3CG fundraiser benefit in LA the next month. She had let the battery run out in her phone days ago and never bothered to charge it.
People came and went all the time. She never spoke. She dressed when she had to. Ike, Zac, Nikki, her mother. She knew someday when her emotions returned to her, if they ever did, she would be grateful to them. For now they were like shadows to her, just passing through. They would sit with her for hours, each one. Sometimes someone spent the night. They would talk to her, bring her food--and yet Mel never spoke. Mel never spoke because she feared that if she did then that would mean it was real.
She didn't want it to be real.
She wanted to wake up and make the nightmare go away. And then go back to sleep, sleeping peacefully through the rest of the night.
But the nightmare stayed.
One night, toward the end of the week, her mother was there. Though she didn't have the strength to show it, she was glad she was there. She was only a couple inches taller than Mel, just as small, with a basic shoulder-length brown haircut.
Her mother had managed to get Mel into the bathtub. The hot water felt nice. Her mother washed and
conditioned her hair for her. And now Mel sat in a ball with her chin on her knees as her mother sat on the toilet lid and sponged her back with hot water. The hot water felt good going down her back. Then her mother spoke in her typical soft, mothering tone, as she always had. "I am so sorry you're having to go through this, honey."
Mel continued to stare at the wall of tile in front of her.
"Sweetie, don't take this the wrong way. But I think you and Taylor really need to talk this out."
Finally, Mel spoke. For the first time in five days, she spoke. She was startled by the deep grogginess of her own voice. But she showed no emotion, and in flat monotone she responded, "What's left to talk about? He's having a baby and renewing his vows. Not much else to say beyond that."
"Well, you know, just because he's renewing his vows doesn't necessarily mean it's what he wants. Did you ever think of that? Maybe it has nothing to do with her. I'm willing to bet that every single bit of that has to do with the baby. Maybe he feels like he's doing the right thing, trying to keep a family together."
"Twenty-four hours before his appointment with his attorney sure is a convenient time for all this to go down."
"Well, honey, if she's pregnant she's pregnant. Babies don't wait."
"I didn't think they were still having sex," Mel's flat monotone said.
"They are married."
"So it's perfectly okay to make plans and promises and then go home and--where's the logic?"
"Nobody ever said life was logical. Life is just lived. That's all."
"You sound like Jason."
"I like Jason," her mother said. She had met him the weekend he was in Tulsa.
"He loves me."
"Well why wouldn't you go after a hunk like him?"
"We're just friends. And besides, he won't have me, not with the way I feel about Tay. After all
this--after all--Mom, I still love him. How do I make it stop?"
Mel's mother sighed and ran her fingers down Mel's wet hair. "It won't stop. You just have to learn to adapt. When you love someone, that love either grows or diminishes. But it never goes away."
Mel sighed. "I think I'm ready to get out now."
That was the first day Mel did something for herself. She dried herself and she dressed herself. And then she looked in the mirror at herself. Even after all the sleeping she had done, she was still exhausted. She knew she needed to go by her office to finish up work on this fundraiser. The thought of going there churned her stomach and she wanted to be sick.
_______________________________________________
The next morning, Mel was ready to return to work. She didn't want to, but it was necessary for the project she was working on. She dressed simply in a black long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Walking in the business office with her purse and her laptop bag, she opted to leave her sunglasses on her face until she got inside
her office. She wasn't ready for anyone to see her quite yet. She wasn't in the mood to answer any questions.
Not that she was left much choice. Jeanette's face lit up when Mel walked in. "Extended vacation, huh? Did you have a fabulous time?"
Mel stopped. "Extended vacation? Who told you that?"
"Taylor."
"Well I wasn't on an extended vacation, I was in mourning. And still am."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Jeanette said. "Who died?"
"I did," Mel said simply, heading to her office. She went to open the door and found it locked. "Who locked my office door?"
"Taylor did," said Lisa. "He's been in and out of there all week, working."
"Oh, really," Mel responded flatly. "And where might the key be?"
"He said when you get here to let you know he has it," Lisa answered.
"Lovely."
"Oh, speaking of Taylor," Bethany said, smiling. "Did you hear the news? He and Natalie are having a baby. Isn't that great for them?"
Mel jerked off her sunglasses and stared across the room at Bethany, her eyes stone cold. Then she said,
"Bethany, your services are no longer needed here. Turn in your keys and clean out your desk. I'll have a severance package prepared for you before the day is out."
"But--"
"This isn't up for negotiation." Then she looked around at Lisa, Jeanette, and Carol. "Anyone else want to delve into someone else's personal life? I didn't think so." She looked back at Bethany. "Ten minutes."
With that, Mel stormed out and through the building to the back where the studio was. She met Tay halfway
in the art area. "I was told you have my office key," she said to him in her emotionless, monotone voice.
"Oh, I do," he said, struggling to fish it out of his pocket. Finding it, he dangled it in front of her and then caught it in his fist. "IF you talk to me."
"Nevermind," she said, pulling her pistol out of the back of her pants. She turned around and stormed away. "I'd rather just shoot the lock out and get in myself."
Tay raced to stop her, stepping in front of her. "Hey now, let's not do anything crazy," he said in a low voice. "You'll scare the girls."
"Well then how about once, in your miserable life, showing me just a little glimmer of respect? Just for once?"
Tay stared back at her in thought. And maybe fear, she didn't know. She didn't care. "Okay," he said, dropping the key in her palm. "Okay."
Without another word, Mel stomped off to her office.
When she opened her office door, she didn't know what to think. She wasn't really surprised, honestly. Especially after learning he'd been in her office. She was actually more annoyed at the mess she had to clean up. There were post-it notes everywhere. It was ridiculous. She tried not to be aware that she was stopping to read each one before she threw them away.
Then her eyes fell on the paper that lay on her desk. She didn't want to read the words written in Taylor's handwriting. She wanted to close her eyes, wad it up, and throw it away, far away.
But yet she was compelled and she didn't know why. She didn't care about him anymore. He could rot for all she cared...
She set her stuff on the floor and sat abruptly in her chair and she began to read. She must have read the words he wrote at least ten times over. It wasn't until teardrops began to smudge the ink on the paper that she realized she was crying. He remembered...her favorite fucking popscicle flavor from when they were
four! And her pink jumpsuit--god how she loved that thing. She wanted to wear it every day. Mel laughed lightly at this memory. It was the first time she'd cracked a smile since Ireland. It felt good. And the crying Batman. She would never forget that year. What the hell, Batman didn't cry...
She found herself chuckling louder when Tay's voice nearly scared the daylights out of her. "We had some times, huh?" He leaned up against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
Mel sat up and jerked the paper off the desk and out of her sight. "How did you get in here? I didn't invite you in here."
"I made a spare key."
"Get out. I have nothing to say to you."
He closed the door and locked it and sat at his usual spot across from her. "This was the only way I could get to you. The only way I could get you to hear me."
"I don't want to hear you and I don't need to hear you. I've heard enough. Now please leave."
"I can't."
"You can. You simply open the door and walk out of it."
"No. I can't leave here until you've heard me."
Mel only looked at him.
Tay continued. "Look, I don't WANT to renew my vows with Natalie..."
Mel scoffed and shook her head. "You're unbelievable."
"I NEVER did anything with the intention of hurting you. You have to know that. But she's pregnant. And it wasn't planned, I swear. I mean, she is my wife. And you were off doing god knows what with Jason and--well I'm not trying to start anything right now. What I'm saying is, we stopped trying to get pregnant a year or two ago. This pregnancy was completely unexpected. And now that she is...what kind of man would I be if I abandoned her now? If I abandoned that baby? It's not about me and her, it's about bringing that baby into the world. And I think--I mean I do really want this baby. It's my baby. And as for this vow renewal? At the time it just flew out of my mouth and Natalie went with it. But the more I think about it, the more--it's kind of what's best. I don't want it to be born into an already broken family."
"Bravo," Mel said nastily. "Bravo with that heartwarming performance there. That baby's not even a tadpole yet and you're already using it. You're a piece of work."
"I just wanted you to know what was going on," he said. "That's all. And I wanted to tell you--I meant every word I wrote on that paper. And more. Mel, I do love you. I do. I'd say it until my voice permanently gave out if you wanted me to."
"Those are words, Tay. Just words. Meaningless words."
"Tell me what you want. What do you want me to do? Say it, I'll do it."
Mel stared in his eyes. The hope and the pleading in them sickened her. "What I want is for you to lay your spare key on my desk and leave my office."
Without another word, Taylor did as she wished and was gone in seconds.
Not sparing a moment, the first emotion that came over Mel in over a week poured out of her eyes and she
put the paper back on her desk, sobbing with it for the next hour.
____________________________________________________
TAYLOR
Men don't cry.
They're not supposed to, anyway. That's the belief society has been raised on for many, many years.
Taylor was not a crier. But in the days that followed Mel's explosive reaction to his news he cried more than he had in years. He cried alone, never letting his brothers see him shed a tear. He tried his best to keep a positive attitude at home, but Natalie was on to him. She constantly asked what was wrong with him and he
constantly lied and said he was just nervous about the baby.
It had been a week since he'd seen Mel. She didn't come to the studio, she wouldn't answer nor return any of his calls or texts, and she changed the locks on every door to her house. She was locked down like Fort Knox. There was no getting to her.
So instead he sat in her driveway in his car. He would come at night and just sit. All alone. In silence. In the dark. Sometimes he sat on her front porch, facing her door, back propped against a column. He never knocked or rang the doorbell. He just sat. All alone. In silence. In the dark.
He left her notes. No love letters, no poems or song lyrics. Just small notes. Usually only a few words. Ones that said things such as "I'm sorry" or "Please forgive me" or "I know you don't believe me but I'll never stop loving you." Every day he came back and his notes had disappeared. He knew she was getting them. Yet there was no response from her.
But mostly he just sat. She may not have wanted him there, but at least she would know he was.
Taylor had to resort to asking Isaac and Zac for updates on how Mel was doing. Ike, Nikki, Zac, and Mel's
mother were all taking turns sitting with her. He never knew that it was that bad until he started hearing repeat reports of how she still wouldn't speak to anyone, how she slept constantly, and how she would only eat when someone made her eat. His heart broke more and more every day.
He didn't know how he was living with himself. He just didn't know. How does a person do to another person what he'd done to Mel? How does a person make all sorts of promises to someone and then rip them away as if they meant nothing? How does a person watch the one they love wither away to nothing because of
something you've done, while you go home to your wife and unborn child and live life as if nothing happened? How? Oh, that's right. By not wearing a condom. And by not watching your mouth.
He was disgusted with himself.
Taylor's head wasn't in the writing game that week. Ike and Zac didn't pressure him. He spent a lot of time in Mel's office. She had finally gotten around to painting it. Cream walls with sage border. A small chandelier hung in the center of the room. The office had Mel written all over it. He couldn't bear to leave it. He was aware that the girls in the business office were beginning to notice his excessive entry into Mel's office. He didn't care. He had told them that Mel chose to extend her vacation and there was work in there that needed to be done. Nobody questioned him.
Maybe he was going crazy. He didn't know. It was extremely likely. But in Mel's office he wrote more notes. Post it notes. Of all the things he wanted to say but couldn't because she wouldn't listen. They were littered
everywhere. He stuck them to her desk, her computer monitor, inside her cabinet doors, on the drawer handles and even on the walls. He wrote multiple notes per day, a lot of them saying the same words. Most of them said "I'm sorry."
He had been devastated. Devastated by where his life was leading him. Devastated at the thought of losing Mel again. Devastated by her absence. Devastated by his own stupidity.
And now he was angry. He was completely angry with himself. Angry with Mel for not being willing to see reason. Angry at Natalie for--well--he didn't really know what he was angry at her for, but he was. He hated the world right now.
And so now he was through with notes. Even the notes made him angry. On this particular day, he locked himself inside Mel's office, searched for the nearest sheet of paper, printer paper, and began to write.
"My first ever memory is you. Your curly hair and your pink jumpsuit. I always only wanted to be around you. We shared cookies and loved popscicles. Orange was your favorite. I used to chase you and you would squeal with laughter. You taught me how to kill ants with my thumb. I loved you then.
When we turned five, you went to kindergarten. I was jealous because you got to go to public school and Mom taught us at home. I was crazy jealous when you came to my house and told me stories of playing on the swings and winning stickers for coloring the best picture in your class. I loved you then.
We went trick-or-treating together. Every single year, without fail. We held each other's hands as we crossed the street. You were too shy to ask for candy, so I was your voice. You always chose to wear "boy" costumes like Batman or werewolves. I thought you were weird. I loved you then.
When we were seven you went away. You had no choice. You were the best friend I ever had and then you were gone. I remember the day you left like it was yesterday. I made you a necklace out of brown beads and painted a T in red on the biggest one. I wore a matching one with an M on it. Do you remember those? The necklaces? I wore mine for several years after. Every day. I still have it. And then I cried when they said it was time for you to go. You were strong, you told me not to cry and that we would be best friends forever. You hugged me and it was the first time you ever told me you loved me. But I was so upset I couldn't say it back. I loved you then.
When we were thirteen you stepped into my house, you and Drew. My mother needed a babysitter and your mother volunteered you as soon as you moved back to town. Our friendship started again with a fight. It was always a fight with us, wasn't it? Seems like it still is. Even still, through our teenage years, we did everything together. We went to our first party, we learned to drive, tried our first cigarette. You used to cheat at cards. I always knew you did but I never got mad because I spent the time watching you do it, admiring the cleverness and quick thinking that came with it. I loved you then.
When we were sixteen, our love grew and became defined. We were each other's first kiss. We lost our virginity to each other. You came on tour with me--and maybe traveling with you and my brothers wasn't necessarily the greatest of ideas for all parties involved, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. We
attended our first Hollywood functions together. I showed you New York City for the first time. I loved watching your face as you looked up at the bright lights and tall buildings and how you loved the fast-paced world there. I loved you then.
And then I lost you. I lost the only girl I ever loved because I was stupid for five minutes. Five minutes was all it took to throw all those memories out the window. When we were nineteen, my world changed. Turned upside down. When we were nineteen, you were gone again and I was getting married. I loved you then.
Ten years pass and fate brings us together again in New York City. Life is complicated now. More complicated than it ever has been. There are more players in the game now than ever before. More people, more things to consider. More responsibilities for both of us. But the one thing that isn't complicated and, yet the most complicated thing of all, is how I love you and how I know you love me, too. I love you still.
We will grow old. I wanted to grow old with you. And I still may get that opportunity, just not the way I had wanted. We will turn gray. We will be grandparents. We will retire. And I will love you still.
Life will throw us curveballs and we won't know what to do with them. But over time we will learn to deal with those curveballs and we will persevere over whatever obstacles come our way. One at a time. Fate brought us together three separate times. Most people are lucky if it happens once. Please don't give up on me. I love you now."
Taylor didn't even proofread his work. It wasn't necessary. He simply put down his pen, turned off the light, and locked the door behind him as he exited Mel's office.
______________________________________________________________
Somebody let me down
Somebody show me love
I wouldn't care much either way
I'd rather the sticks and stones
Than dragging the ball and chain
Of "what if the world won't save me?"
Even if the hull should crack
Even if the blood flows red
Nothing could be worse than numb
So please Use Me Up
I just want anyone to Use Me Up
Cause no one ever does Use Me Up
I've carried it all too long
The fear of the pain it brings
Feeling the panic building up
I'd rather the broken heart
Than live in the emptiness
Of "what if the world won't take me?"
Even if the bow should break
Even if the blood runs cold
Nothing could be worse than numb
Please Use Me Up
Treat me some way cruel
You can throw me away
As long as I feel it
Show me something true
You can deceive me
I am yours to use
Use Me Up
Use Me Up
MEL
Mel wished life would go away. She wished the sun would stop coming up in her window. She wished the darkness would stay. She felt the most comfortable in the dark. Darkness was what she was used to. It was what she was most familiar with. It was obviously where she belonged.
She slept all the time, day and night. Her appetite was gone. Her desire for life was gone. She didn't watch television or drink coffee. She didn't enjoy her wine or read any books. The only contact she had with the outside world was through her email, setting up plans for the 3CG fundraiser benefit in LA the next month. She had let the battery run out in her phone days ago and never bothered to charge it.
People came and went all the time. She never spoke. She dressed when she had to. Ike, Zac, Nikki, her mother. She knew someday when her emotions returned to her, if they ever did, she would be grateful to them. For now they were like shadows to her, just passing through. They would sit with her for hours, each one. Sometimes someone spent the night. They would talk to her, bring her food--and yet Mel never spoke. Mel never spoke because she feared that if she did then that would mean it was real.
She didn't want it to be real.
She wanted to wake up and make the nightmare go away. And then go back to sleep, sleeping peacefully through the rest of the night.
But the nightmare stayed.
One night, toward the end of the week, her mother was there. Though she didn't have the strength to show it, she was glad she was there. She was only a couple inches taller than Mel, just as small, with a basic shoulder-length brown haircut.
Her mother had managed to get Mel into the bathtub. The hot water felt nice. Her mother washed and
conditioned her hair for her. And now Mel sat in a ball with her chin on her knees as her mother sat on the toilet lid and sponged her back with hot water. The hot water felt good going down her back. Then her mother spoke in her typical soft, mothering tone, as she always had. "I am so sorry you're having to go through this, honey."
Mel continued to stare at the wall of tile in front of her.
"Sweetie, don't take this the wrong way. But I think you and Taylor really need to talk this out."
Finally, Mel spoke. For the first time in five days, she spoke. She was startled by the deep grogginess of her own voice. But she showed no emotion, and in flat monotone she responded, "What's left to talk about? He's having a baby and renewing his vows. Not much else to say beyond that."
"Well, you know, just because he's renewing his vows doesn't necessarily mean it's what he wants. Did you ever think of that? Maybe it has nothing to do with her. I'm willing to bet that every single bit of that has to do with the baby. Maybe he feels like he's doing the right thing, trying to keep a family together."
"Twenty-four hours before his appointment with his attorney sure is a convenient time for all this to go down."
"Well, honey, if she's pregnant she's pregnant. Babies don't wait."
"I didn't think they were still having sex," Mel's flat monotone said.
"They are married."
"So it's perfectly okay to make plans and promises and then go home and--where's the logic?"
"Nobody ever said life was logical. Life is just lived. That's all."
"You sound like Jason."
"I like Jason," her mother said. She had met him the weekend he was in Tulsa.
"He loves me."
"Well why wouldn't you go after a hunk like him?"
"We're just friends. And besides, he won't have me, not with the way I feel about Tay. After all
this--after all--Mom, I still love him. How do I make it stop?"
Mel's mother sighed and ran her fingers down Mel's wet hair. "It won't stop. You just have to learn to adapt. When you love someone, that love either grows or diminishes. But it never goes away."
Mel sighed. "I think I'm ready to get out now."
That was the first day Mel did something for herself. She dried herself and she dressed herself. And then she looked in the mirror at herself. Even after all the sleeping she had done, she was still exhausted. She knew she needed to go by her office to finish up work on this fundraiser. The thought of going there churned her stomach and she wanted to be sick.
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The next morning, Mel was ready to return to work. She didn't want to, but it was necessary for the project she was working on. She dressed simply in a black long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Walking in the business office with her purse and her laptop bag, she opted to leave her sunglasses on her face until she got inside
her office. She wasn't ready for anyone to see her quite yet. She wasn't in the mood to answer any questions.
Not that she was left much choice. Jeanette's face lit up when Mel walked in. "Extended vacation, huh? Did you have a fabulous time?"
Mel stopped. "Extended vacation? Who told you that?"
"Taylor."
"Well I wasn't on an extended vacation, I was in mourning. And still am."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Jeanette said. "Who died?"
"I did," Mel said simply, heading to her office. She went to open the door and found it locked. "Who locked my office door?"
"Taylor did," said Lisa. "He's been in and out of there all week, working."
"Oh, really," Mel responded flatly. "And where might the key be?"
"He said when you get here to let you know he has it," Lisa answered.
"Lovely."
"Oh, speaking of Taylor," Bethany said, smiling. "Did you hear the news? He and Natalie are having a baby. Isn't that great for them?"
Mel jerked off her sunglasses and stared across the room at Bethany, her eyes stone cold. Then she said,
"Bethany, your services are no longer needed here. Turn in your keys and clean out your desk. I'll have a severance package prepared for you before the day is out."
"But--"
"This isn't up for negotiation." Then she looked around at Lisa, Jeanette, and Carol. "Anyone else want to delve into someone else's personal life? I didn't think so." She looked back at Bethany. "Ten minutes."
With that, Mel stormed out and through the building to the back where the studio was. She met Tay halfway
in the art area. "I was told you have my office key," she said to him in her emotionless, monotone voice.
"Oh, I do," he said, struggling to fish it out of his pocket. Finding it, he dangled it in front of her and then caught it in his fist. "IF you talk to me."
"Nevermind," she said, pulling her pistol out of the back of her pants. She turned around and stormed away. "I'd rather just shoot the lock out and get in myself."
Tay raced to stop her, stepping in front of her. "Hey now, let's not do anything crazy," he said in a low voice. "You'll scare the girls."
"Well then how about once, in your miserable life, showing me just a little glimmer of respect? Just for once?"
Tay stared back at her in thought. And maybe fear, she didn't know. She didn't care. "Okay," he said, dropping the key in her palm. "Okay."
Without another word, Mel stomped off to her office.
When she opened her office door, she didn't know what to think. She wasn't really surprised, honestly. Especially after learning he'd been in her office. She was actually more annoyed at the mess she had to clean up. There were post-it notes everywhere. It was ridiculous. She tried not to be aware that she was stopping to read each one before she threw them away.
Then her eyes fell on the paper that lay on her desk. She didn't want to read the words written in Taylor's handwriting. She wanted to close her eyes, wad it up, and throw it away, far away.
But yet she was compelled and she didn't know why. She didn't care about him anymore. He could rot for all she cared...
She set her stuff on the floor and sat abruptly in her chair and she began to read. She must have read the words he wrote at least ten times over. It wasn't until teardrops began to smudge the ink on the paper that she realized she was crying. He remembered...her favorite fucking popscicle flavor from when they were
four! And her pink jumpsuit--god how she loved that thing. She wanted to wear it every day. Mel laughed lightly at this memory. It was the first time she'd cracked a smile since Ireland. It felt good. And the crying Batman. She would never forget that year. What the hell, Batman didn't cry...
She found herself chuckling louder when Tay's voice nearly scared the daylights out of her. "We had some times, huh?" He leaned up against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
Mel sat up and jerked the paper off the desk and out of her sight. "How did you get in here? I didn't invite you in here."
"I made a spare key."
"Get out. I have nothing to say to you."
He closed the door and locked it and sat at his usual spot across from her. "This was the only way I could get to you. The only way I could get you to hear me."
"I don't want to hear you and I don't need to hear you. I've heard enough. Now please leave."
"I can't."
"You can. You simply open the door and walk out of it."
"No. I can't leave here until you've heard me."
Mel only looked at him.
Tay continued. "Look, I don't WANT to renew my vows with Natalie..."
Mel scoffed and shook her head. "You're unbelievable."
"I NEVER did anything with the intention of hurting you. You have to know that. But she's pregnant. And it wasn't planned, I swear. I mean, she is my wife. And you were off doing god knows what with Jason and--well I'm not trying to start anything right now. What I'm saying is, we stopped trying to get pregnant a year or two ago. This pregnancy was completely unexpected. And now that she is...what kind of man would I be if I abandoned her now? If I abandoned that baby? It's not about me and her, it's about bringing that baby into the world. And I think--I mean I do really want this baby. It's my baby. And as for this vow renewal? At the time it just flew out of my mouth and Natalie went with it. But the more I think about it, the more--it's kind of what's best. I don't want it to be born into an already broken family."
"Bravo," Mel said nastily. "Bravo with that heartwarming performance there. That baby's not even a tadpole yet and you're already using it. You're a piece of work."
"I just wanted you to know what was going on," he said. "That's all. And I wanted to tell you--I meant every word I wrote on that paper. And more. Mel, I do love you. I do. I'd say it until my voice permanently gave out if you wanted me to."
"Those are words, Tay. Just words. Meaningless words."
"Tell me what you want. What do you want me to do? Say it, I'll do it."
Mel stared in his eyes. The hope and the pleading in them sickened her. "What I want is for you to lay your spare key on my desk and leave my office."
Without another word, Taylor did as she wished and was gone in seconds.
Not sparing a moment, the first emotion that came over Mel in over a week poured out of her eyes and she
put the paper back on her desk, sobbing with it for the next hour.
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