Under Dust Painted Skies
Chapter Three"So, where's the maid?" Taylor asked, taking a look around.
Zac glared at his older brother, but there was no heat behind the look. He was too tired and sad to really work up enough anger for the look to mean anything. "She's not the maid," Zac retorted. "You know this."
"I know, I know," Taylor sighed as he followed Zac into the kitchen. "If she was, though, I'd fire her. This place is starting to look like a sty."
Zac rolled his eyes as he dug a couple of drinks out of the refrigerator. He knew Taylor wasn't completely off the mark, though. Since Remy had discussed her plans to find another job a few days earlier, Zac had let the place go. He'd been meaning to pick up after himself, but he couldn't find the energy. He was shocked Remy hadn't said anything yet. Normally, she'd be all over his case for letting the cleaning go, but then she hadn't been in the best of moods these last few days either.
"I haven't got around to cleaning yet," Zac muttered by way of excuse as he handed one of the canned beverages over to Taylor before popping the other one open for himself.
"You're not still brooding over Isaac's visit, are you?"
Zac glanced at him. He should have guessed that Taylor would know about that. "No, I'm not," he sighed. "And I'm sorry I won't be coming to your birthday dinner tonight. I hope you won't be too heartbroken."
Taylor snorted and shook his head. "It's fine."
"I don't know," Zac replied. "The way Isaac went on, he made it sound like you'd just be all out of sorts without me there."
"Yeah, well," Taylor smiled a little and shrugged, "you know I'd be happy if you were there, but if you're not, you're not. Besides, you know Isaac - he'll use any angle he can come up with to try to fix things."
"You think mom will be really upset?" Zac wondered. Of all of his family, he knew she was the one member who would stew over his absence the most.
"Mom will be fine," Taylor assured him. "After all, we're celebrating me. That's enough to make everyone happy."
"Right."
"It is. True story."
Zac raised an eyebrow but didn't argue; instead, he shook his head after a moment and glanced out the window. "Isaac still pissed?"
"I don't know. Probably," Taylor shrugged. "You know how he can keep up a good grudge when his mind isn't otherwise occupied."
"Thought he was co-writing these days," Zac commented.
"He is, but you couldn't have forgotten how much of a bitch he can be about that sort of thing," Taylor said, scrunching his nose up, as if remembering something unpleasant. "I think he just misses writing songs for the band."
Zac sighed. The band was not something he wanted to add to the clusterfuck of crap that had already accumulated this week.
If Taylor heard Zac's sigh, he didn't let on and continued speaking, "I guess I can understand where he's coming from in that respect. Writing music with and for other people just isn't quite the same."
"Please do not turn this into a guilt trip about me rejoining the band or something," Zac said. The slow, steadiness of his voice betrayed the anxiety that lie beneath. This was a subject whose discussion never ended well for anyone no matter how many times they had it.
"I'm not," Taylor said, raising his hands as if he were surrendering. "I think you've made it plenty obvious how you feel about it. I hold no delusions about Hanson making any sort of comeback now or ever really."
"Good."
The last album had come out three years ago. Zac had been home on a short break from promoting the upcoming album, The Walk, and was set to leave for the UK with his brothers for a short promotion tour in few days when he and Kate were attacked. All plans had been cancelled after that, but the album was released as planned at the end of July.
Taylor and Isaac had only done some very minor promotions. They'd wanted to postpone releasing the album altogether, but even then Zac knew he would be incapable of ever going back to that world. He'd stated that he was done with music, but everyone had seemed so sure that it was just the shock from the traumatic loss talking. Instead of pressuring him, Isaac and Taylor had soldiered on. Despite the lack of serious promotion and an accompanying tour, the album had done fairly well.
None of that had mattered to Zac, though. He was finished the day his career cost him his wife's life. There were no lyrics or notes left that could possibly fill that loss. They could never replace Kate. His brothers had argued that leaving music wouldn't bring her back either, but it was to no avail.
After the shooting, he never stepped foot back in a studio again - not even the one built on his parents' property. He couldn't, however, say that he honestly hadn't thought about playing the drums. He had, of course, in moments of anger because that had always been his way of relieving the tension. But this was different. It was because of those drums and the music that came along with them that Brielle Jensen had become aware of - and fixated - on him.
No matter how many times both Isaac and Taylor either together or on their own tried to make him reconsider, his mind was made up.
"That doesn't mean it makes it any easier," Taylor said. "I think we all thought we'd be in the band the rest of our lives."
"I was," Zac muttered.
"Your life isn't over," Taylor said. His words were firm and held no doubt. "Your life is just different now."
"For all intents and purposes, it is over," Zac replied. He knew that Taylor thought this was all about Kate, and while that was partly true, it was about so much more than that. "Remy's planning on leaving and getting a new job in the fall."
He hadn't meant to say these words aloud, but they had been stewing in the back of his mind. Despite what she said, he knew that things would be different. She did so much for him, and ever since she'd voiced her plans, he couldn't help but blame himself. He probably placed too much responsibility on her. Or she was just sick of him. He was pathetic, after all. A grown man who couldn't even answer the front door without cowering away. She already had a child of her own to take care of. Why should she have to deal with all of his baggage on top of that?
"Oh, so that's what's got you moping around like a schmuck?" Taylor smirked a bit, which earned him a glare that did hold at least a little heat this time.
"I'm not moping around," Zac tried to argue, but even he knew that was a lie. He ran a hand through his messy hair and shrugged his shoulders as if to admit the lie without saying the words.
"What did you say when she told you?" Taylor asked without acknowledging the lie.
"What could I say?" Zac retorted.
"Oh, I don't know," Taylor snorted, "I don't want you to go? Please stay? I'm too stupid to pull my head out of my own ass to acknowledge that I totally want you? I'd really like to bend you over the sofa and make you see Jesus? Should I go on?
"Shut up!" Zac exclaimed. His face felt hot, but he couldn't differentiate between anger and embarrassment. "God, why do you always have to be so crude?"
"Probably to make up for you being such a damn prude."
"I'm not a prude," Zac mumbled.
Taylor rolled his eyes and then sighed, "Would celibate monk be better?"
"This has nothing to do with sex," Zac replied, ignoring his question. "I don't think of Remy that way."
"Yeah, just like you don't have a poorly hidden stash of porn stowed away underneath your bed."
Zac's face flamed and for a moment he was distracted, wondering when his brother might have had an opportunity to snoop around his bedroom and find that, but he pushed those thoughts away and tried to focus on the topic at hand. "Remy is just my . . ." he paused then. She was just what? His friend? His assistant? His only link to the outside world?
Calling Remy 'just' anything would be a lie. She meant more to him than he cared to admit. However, not in the way that Taylor was trying to insinuate. She was attractive, yes, but his thoughts had never strayed far enough for him to consider her as anything more than his friend.
"Zac, dude, she's gorgeous," Taylor began. "And she doesn't care that you're fifty shades of fucked up."
Zac frowned a bit at that. Even if it were true, being called fucked up was never easy.
"You know I'm not trying to be a dick," Taylor said, noticing the frown. "I just mean she doesn't seem to mind your . . . limitations."
Well, that's certainly one way of putting it, Zac thought wryly.
"I know you love Kate," Taylor went on.
Zac flinched a little at the sound of her name. It was so rarely spoken aloud these days. His brothers were only around once a week at the most. Remy never knew her, and it was a subject she never touched. Luca had asked about her once after noticing various pictures placed throughout the house. Even though Zac thought of her often, he rarely spoke of her.
"But you can still love her and move on with your life," he continued. "She wouldn't want you to be alone, living like this."
"How do you know what she would have wanted?" Zac muttered.
"She was wife's best friend, Zac," Taylor pointed out. "And I knew her as long as you did. Maybe not in the same way, but she was a part of my life as well. She was a good person, and she loved you, so I know she wouldn't want to see you like this."
Zac didn't reply, so Taylor didn't stop there. "Maybe if you went back into therapy," he said. Zac glared at his hands, but that didn't stop Taylor. "I mean, just talk to someone. Get this shit out. Letting it all fester inside can't feel good." He paused, as if waiting for Zac to say something. When Zac didn't, he went on, "I'm not even talking about trying to leave the house or anything like that, but at the very least try to heal from losing Kate. Maybe make something of a life for yourself."
"I already have a life," Zac growled. Taylor wasn't easily provoked, so when a look of surprise crossed his face, Zac wondered for a moment what he must look like.
He realized vaguely that he was contradicting his earlier words. He couldn't claim his life was over in one breath and then claim to have a life in the next. He ran his hands through his hair. Frustration seemed to radiate off of him, and it was always so hard to clarify his thoughts when it came to talking about this stuff.
Life as he knew it was over. First, he lost Kate. He dragged her into his world of fame - a world with fans that more often than not seemed to blur the lines between adoration and obsession. He'd been young when they met, so maybe his naivety was partially to blame for his lack of foresight, but he'd never even considered the possibility that his career could put her in danger.
Losing her was bad enough, but he was getting by now. He knew that was in large part due to Remy's role in his life. Despite his agoraphobia, he was still managing some semblance of a life. He had his painting to keep him busy. His afternoons with Luca were probably the closest he'd ever get to fatherhood, and he treasured those moments with her. And it was his friendship with Remy that kept him from turning into a complete recluse. Their conversations and interactions were what made him feel the most normal. He could forget about his anxiety disorder and didn't have to think or worry about how something was going to get done without going outside because he had Remy to handle those things for him.
In a few short months she would be gone, and the life he'd managed to construct since losing Kate would come crashing down around him. However, hearing Taylor accuse him of not having a life now stung because he knew that he would likely be right soon.
"Okay," Taylor said, slowly and calmly as if to appease him. "Maybe I misspoke there. I know you have a life. I just meant a fuller life. I'm not an idiot. I know you're not happy."
Zac averted his eyes. His brother was right. He wasn't happy, but it didn't take a genius to figure that out.
"Maybe talking to someone would help," Taylor commented.
"I've already tried that. It didn't work out."
"Then talk to someone else. Maybe that doctor wasn't the right fit. That doesn't mean you give up altogether."
"Is this really about me being happy?" Zac wondered. "Or is this about you wanting me to be 'normal' again?"
"Well, of course I want you to be normal again," Taylor admitted. "You're my brother. I love you, so I'm not exactly thrilled at this zombified version of you, but I'm not expecting a miracle. I know you're not going to magically turn into the old Zac overnight, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't at least try to make things better. If for nothing else, do it for your own sake and sanity."
These words set Zac's mind ablaze. "My fucking sanity is perfectly in tact, asshole," he seethed.
"Shit, will you just chill out? Do you have selective hearing or some shit? I thought that was only a wife and mother thing."
"Fuck you."
Taylor rolled his eyes but was otherwise unruffled. Sometimes his cool demeanor really grated at Zac's nerves. At least with Isaac he could piss him off enough to get him to leave him alone. Of course, it was always awkward for a few weeks afterwards, but they both eventually got over it. With Taylor Zac couldn't typically piss him off enough to get him out of his hair for a while. As admirable as his patience was, it was equally annoying.
They sat quietly for several minutes after that, occasionally sipping on their drinks, but neither of them spoke. This, at least, was something he could deal with. As much as Taylor liked to talk, it was also just as easy to sit quietly with him. Zac had never fully understood why things fell so easily into place with Taylor this way while sitting in silence with Isaac was always so uncomfortable that by comparison he'd rather have his teeth pulled out one by one with pliers.
He supposed it was just a personality conflict. Isaac was never afraid to say what he was thinking and tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve. If he was angry or upset, you knew it. Taylor was better at keeping his emotions in check. That didn't mean he wouldn't let you know how he felt, but he also didn't let whatever he was feeling fuel his words and actions the way Isaac did.
Zac had always dithered somewhere in between the two, he guessed. Maybe that was just part of being brothers, but somehow their personalities, different as they were, had always melded well when it came to working together as a band. He sometimes missed those moments. It was so rare for the three of them to be together these days, and, more often than not, they were only all together when his brothers were attempting to talk to him about something he didn't care to discuss.
Finally, after a long silence, Zac stood, muttering that he'd be right back. He made his way down to his art studio and picked up the painting he'd made specifically for his brother. He'd worked on it during a week of sleepless nights, and secretly he hoped his brother wouldn't completely hate it.
He'd wrapped it a couple of days previous before calling Taylor to let him know he had a birthday gift for him whenever he had a chance to stop by. If he hadn't had words with Isaac, he probably would have just sent the gift with him, but he preferred doing it this way. If he couldn't be there in person for Taylor's birthday celebration, he could at least do this.
He hefted the painting up the stairs and returned to the kitchen. Taylor was no longer seated and was instead investigating the items hung of the front of his refrigerator.
"Looks like you got yourself a mini artist," he commented, motioning toward the pictures Luca had drew for him.
Zac smiled and shrugged a shoulder noncommittally before handing the large square over to his brother.
"Can I open it now?" Taylor asked, and his eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning.
"Sure."
"Awesome," Taylor grinned, as he sat his drink down on the counter, wiped his damp palms on his jeans and finally took the present.
Zac rolled his eyes, but inwardly he was a bit nervous. He returned to his seat at the table while Taylor propped the gift up on top of the table and began to remove the wrapping paper. The actual painting was facing Zac, so it wasn't until all of the paper was removed that Taylor turned the canvas around and got a good look.
"Wow," he breathed as his eyes danced over the canvas, again and again. He was quiet a moment after that, which only made Zac more nervous, but finally he lifted his eyes from the canvas to look at him. "Zac, this is amazing," he said with such emotion that it was impossible for Zac to doubt the sincerity of his words.
"This is based off a recent photo," Taylor commented, eyes washing over it again. The painting was a recreation of Taylor's four children - Ezra, Penelope, River and Viggo - from their latest family portraits. "How'd you get a copy? I don't think I gave you one of this one."
"Natalie," Zac answered, shifting his eyes away. He was ashamed to admit that when he called her about getting a photo of just the kids that it had been the first time, aside from calling the house and asking to speak to Taylor, that he'd spoken directly to her in at least three months.
Taylor smiled a little to himself at Zac's answer. Knowing that Zac reached beyond his comfort zone to do something like this for him was just an added bonus to an already amazing gift.
Time and again Taylor had tried to pry from Zac why he felt so uncomfortable speaking to Natalie when she had been a sister to him nearly as long as Zac had been with Kate, but Zac always shied away from the conversation.
The truth was that talking to Natalie now only seemed to bring back memories of Kate as well as a plethora of pain and guilt, not just over what he lost but over what Natalie had lost as well. Kate had been her best friend most of her life. Natalie had lost nearly as much as Zac. Instead of feeling a mutual understanding, he'd only been able to feel guilt and had distanced himself from his sister-in-law ever since.
Before Taylor could ask Zac about the details of that conversation - not that he couldn't just ask Natalie anyway, there was a noise from the foyer and a moment later Luca skipped into the room.
"Hi!" she smiled brightly up at Taylor as she skipped over to Zac.
"Hey there," Taylor said, as Zac, instinctively, scooped her up. Zac noticed the bemused look that crossed Taylor's face, but Luca was already speaking, giving Zac no chance to question his brother.
"I got to feed the fishies today!" Luca exclaimed, her eyes on Zac.
"Really?" Zac replied, raising his eyebrows. "Did they try to eat your fingertips?"
"Zac," Remy scolded as she entered the kitchen just in time to hear his words.
"No," Luca laughed, and then said in the most condescending tone a five-year-old could manage, "These fishies don't have teeth."
"Oh, silly me," Zac chuckled, smoothing her curls and kissing her forehead.
"Couldn't wait to unwrap your present?" Remy wondered, nodding her head toward the canvas Taylor was still holding. Taylor shrugged his shoulder sheepishly. "You told him it was incredible, right?"
"Of course," Taylor said indignantly. "I also told him the maid needed to get to work on cleaning this place."
"Tay," Zac groaned. He expected Remy to growl at him that she wasn't Zac's personal maid.
"Not part of my job description," she calmly answered instead while rolling her eyes. "Besides, Zac will get around to it soon, I'm sure." She gave him a pointed look that told him that the mess hadn't escaped her attention either.
He sighed and then shifted his eyes to Luca. "Want to help me clean, kiddo?"
"Ew, no!" she exclaimed, scrunching up her little nose in distaste. "I didn't make a mess!"
"Oh, well, you just remember that next time you make a mess and want someone to help you pick it up, missy," Zac smirked. Luca pouted and buried her curly head into his chest. He patted her on the back. "Oh, I'm just teasing, Lulu."
"I think she's tired," Remy shrugged, unconcerned by the pouting. She laid a pile of mail down on the table in front of Zac, but he didn't reach for it.
Taylor left the painting on the table, but propped it up against the wall so that it wouldn't fall over. He crossed the room to grab the drink he'd set aside, but as he started to turn back, he glanced out the window. Then he paused and leaned closer, as if to get a better look.
"When did your gay neighbors have a kid?" he asked, sounding perplexed.
Zac glanced over at him, frowning, but it was Remy who approached. She had to lean to the side to see around him, but both she and Zac could guess what he was talking about. Mac and Brian lived in the house directly across from Remy and had recently become first time fathers.
"About four months ago, wasn't it, Zac?" Remy replied, glancing over at him for confirmation.
"Something like that," he nodded. Neither of them bothered to correct Taylor's lack of tact in referring to them as their 'gay' neighbors. After all, while it may not have been the most polite, it wasn't an incorrect description.
"How'd they manage that?" Taylor wondered, and Zac knew is brother well enough to tell he was honestly curious and not just being nosy or judgmental.
"They used a surrogate," Remy answered. "The baby's name is Lily."
"Oh, well, good on them," Taylor nodded, shrugging as he watched the couple and child disappeared around the corner. "Who do you suppose is the man in that relationship?"
"Why, you looking to be someone's bitch?" Zac teased, which earned him a glare from both Taylor - for insulting him - and Remy, who growled, "Language!"
Zac glanced down at Luca, still curled up against his chest and rolled his eyes. "She's fast asleep."
"Doesn't mean she can't subconsciously pick up on your abhorrent language."
"It's not that bad," he muttered.
Remy sighed and went to the refrigerator and began to dig around. "What were you thinking for dinner?"
"I don't know. I hadn't thought much about it. Maybe spaghetti," Zac replied. "Want me to cook tonight?"
Zac happened to glance toward Taylor. "What?" he frowned at the sight of Taylor smirking as Remy assented to his suggestion.
"Nothing," Taylor murmured, as Remy moved to the cabinet to remove the items they'd need for dinner.
Zac could tell that Taylor was just itching to say something, but rather than reply, Taylor merely shook his head and ran a hand through his hair before he turned back toward the window.
Zac rolled his eyes as he pushed back from the table, chair scraping against the floor, earning him Remy's attention. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"To lay Luca down on the couch. Then I'll help with dinner," he answered before heading through the doorway. He made his way into the living room and carefully laid Luca down.
He would have put her down in the guestroom upstairs, but he didn't want to run the risk of her waking up confused. She'd stayed overnight a few times without any problem, but he always tucked her carefully into bed before she fell asleep, making it easier for her to remember where she was should she wake in the middle of the night.
After carefully tucking an afghan around her tiny form, Zac headed back to the kitchen. As he entered the room, he heard Taylor speak, teasingly, "If he's making meatballs I may feel inclined to invite myself to stay."
"Won't your wife be wondering where you are?" Remy chuckled.
"Probably," Taylor admitted. "But I doubt she'd fault me for staying. Zac's a pretty decent cook when he puts his mind to it."
Zac chuckled slightly as he reentered the room. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he commented as he went to the sink. After washing his hands, he went to the freezer and retrieved a package of ground chuck. "So are you staying for dinner or what?"
"I would, but Remy's probably right," Taylor sighed. "Besides, I have bath duty tonight."
Zac expected Taylor to move to leave, but instead he continued to gaze out the window at the darkening sky. Zac shrugged to himself and set to work on preparing the meatballs while Remy moved to the refrigerator, muttering something about a salad under her breath as she went.
Busy working in tandem with Remy to prepare dinner, it wasn't until Taylor spoke that Zac even remembered his presence in the kitchen. "Looks like your neighbor found himself a lady friend," he joked. Zac glanced over at him to see Taylor looking over his shoulder at him and Remy.
Zac frowned, hands submerged in a bowl of raw meat. He glanced down at the bowl for a moment, grimaced and then withdrew his hands, snagging a paper towel from the counter and wiping them off as he crossed to the window to see what his brother was talking about.
Zac arrived at the window just in time to see the man from across the street accompanying a leggy brunette, wearing a short red dress and tall back stilettos, up the front walkway.
Zac's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the woman, and Taylor let out a low whistle. A moment later Remy came up behind them to look as well. "Wow, looks like Mr. Cline hit the jackpot," she commented.
"Oh, so that's his name," Zac murmured. "Wonder where he found her."
"Probably on street corner," Taylor laughed, and Remy smacked him on the arm before she returned to preparing dinner.
Zac followed a moment later, the corners of his lips curved up in the shape of a tired yet sincere smile.