"My Father, Taylor Hanson": Book 4
Chapter 5


        “Uncle Zac!” Zoë exclaimed running through the metal detector towards my brother. He grabbed her into a hug and picked her up off the ground.
        “Let me get that,” I told Clare, taking a bag off her shoulder. I placed it on the conveyer belt that would go through the x-ray machine. “Will ya take that through the machine too?” I joked with the employee gesturing towards Anya who was sleeping on Clare’s chest.
        “Sorry, sir,” the employee said. “She might get lost in the machine she’s so tiny.”
        I laughed. “O well.” I stepped through the detector and grabbed the bags on the other side. I approached my brothers and family.
        “Look at you!” Isaac was exclaiming to my wife. “More and more beautiful each time I see you!” He hugged my wife carefully along with my youngest daughter.
        “Hey man!” Zac exclaimed giving me a handshake. “How are you doing?”
        “We’re great,” I replied taking blindly something my daughter was handing me. I looked down at her, she was smiling with satisfaction: she had been trying to get me to carry her book-bag all day and I had refused many times. “Zoë, come on.” I handed it back to her. “For the gazillionth time, Daddy’s carrying too many other things. You packed that bag, you carry it.”
        “Got anything in baggage claim?” Isaac asked me. We started to walk towards the baggage area.
        “Yeah, three suitcases and a duffel.”
        “I’ll get them for you.”
        “Thanks man.”
        “How’s your fiancée doing?” Clare asked Zac.
        “Nicole’s doing great!” Zac told her. “I can’t wait for you guys to finally meet her!” He looked down at Zoë, whose hand was engulfed in her uncle’s. “Are you excited to meet your Aunt Nicole?”
        Zoë nodded excitedly. “I can’t wait! And I can’t wait to see my dress!”
        I laughed. My daughter was referring to the dress she was going to wear as flower girl in the wedding. We had only seen pictures so far because her grandmother was making it herself. Zoë could not shut up about how gorgeous it looked and how she knew it was going to make a beautiful bell as she spinned. She went on and on for weeks when we got the first picture in the mail from Tulsa. Mom had promised her a picture and Mom never skipped a promise, the picture came along with a letter asking Zoë what type of flowers she wanted as flower girl.
        When Zac had asked Zoë if she wanted to be flower girl, Zoë was scared at first so he and Nicole gave her awhile to think about it. Mom informed me that she’d start work on the dress and maybe that would help convince Zoë to do it. Mom was right, it did. When Clare and I told Zoë about how her grandmother was making her a beautiful lavender dress to wear as flower girl Zoë was thrilled. It thrilled her even more when I told her that being flower girl meant throwing flower petals on the aisle floor of the church. She told me to tell Uncle Zac “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” So I did.
        “We got lucky with a parking space,” Isaac said on his return. “It’s right out front.”
        “Very kool,” I praised taking Clare’s hand as we walked towards the exit. “I can’t wait to get home and rest.”
        “How was your flight?” Zac asked from behind me.
        “Exhausting,” I concluded.
        “Times ten,” Clare added with a smile.
        Once we got to the van, Isaac, Zac, and I piled my family’s luggage into the trunk and we were on our way to my parent’s house.
        “Tomorrow, we’re going to the mall, right Taylor?” Zac reminded me.
        “I haven’t forgotten,” I assured him. I smiled to myself, Zac really was making sure everything was going to be perfect for his wedding. He had asked me a week ago to go to the mall with him. I could imagine him sitting down with a planner in front of him, making a day to day list of what he was going to do including the time allotment and everything. He was really nervous that something was going to mess up along the way. I really couldn’t blame him, I wanted everything to be perfect too, for his sake.
        Halfway through the ride, Anya woke up.
        “Oh no,” I said watching her eyes flutter open. Clare and I both looked at her wondering what was going to happen next. The plane trip had been worse than exhausting. For almost all of the three hours in the air Anya had spent bawling. When we were starting to land Zoë’s ears were hurting her, Anya’s probably were too but she couldn’t express it. I helped Zoë out by holding her nose while she blew, but Anya we couldn’t do anything about. We had to just let her cry while the pressure in her head evened out. I hated the fact that we had to take a plane with two young children but there was no other way of getting to Tulsa and back. I couldn’t drive them there, it would just take too long. We couldn’t take a train because that would take too long as well and Clare would be uncomfortable with all the people around for more than a few hours. Flying was our only choice left.
        Anya raised her head and placed it back on her Mommy’s shoulder. I breathed a sigh of relief and so did Clare.
        “What’s wrong?” Isaac asked from the driver’s side seat.
        “Anya finally got to sleep when we were on the ground, we don’t want her to wake up. She’s been having some problems lately with feeling neglected.”
        “How so?” Zac asked, a look of concern on his face.
        “We think she senses when we leave and she resents it, she’s scared. We also think it has something to do with the babies because she loves to lie on Clare’s stomach.”
        “We think she might miss the protection,” Clare put in.
        “You should buy her one of those womb-sounding machines while you’re here,” Isaac suggested. “You can put it on when she’s falling asleep. It sounds like the mother’s womb, and it might make her less scared that you aren’t there with her. If you’re scared that she’ll get too attached put it on when you’re not at home and when she is with a baby-sitter. We had one of those for Amanda.”
        “We might try that,” I told my brother.
        “In fact, you could borrow ours if you need to,” Isaac said, his voice hinted with a sound of resentment. “We don’t need it right now.”
        “Still having problems?” I ventured to ask my brother.
        He nodded and glanced at me in the mirror. “It might be me this time.”
        I made a face. “Sorry man.”
        Isaac nodded and pulled into the driveway of our old house. I looked up at it for a few seconds, taking in the sight of the old place. “Home again,” I muttered aloud.


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