THE CALM BEFORE
MEL
Who knew a hair tie could cause so much fuss?
Taylor had left the hair tie on his finger that Mel had wrapped it around. He never talked about it and she never questioned it. But every time she looked at his hand, her heart melted a little.
The buzz, however, was amongst the fan community. Everyone wanted to know the story behind "the black cloth around Taylor's finger." "Did he get married?" "Was it for some kind of cause?" And then the copycats popped up, sporting their own hair tie rings. The only way Mel even knew about any of this was because the girls in the office talked about what they monitored in the forums. They knew it was in bad taste to discuss what they read but sometimes you just couldn't help it.
The fans weren't the only ones enamored with Tay's new style choice. Mel was, too. She never could stop looking at his hand and the symbolism displayed on it. He was hers and he wore it proudly, albeit temporarily. She made a mental note to go ring shopping and SOON.
Mel awoke around midday one day after an incredibly late night, that hair tie ring on her mind and what she would want engraved on the inside of its replacement. As she shifted and stirred, sitting up in the bed, Fred meowed at her and jumped up on the bed. He always knew when she was wake, no matter what part of the house he was in. She scratched him behind his ear and lowered her face close to his. "I know you're not hungry, your daddy feeds you at the same time every morning." As he pranced around in her lap and raised his hind end to be scratched, Mel heard it. The low, dull, distant buzzing sound. Mel wished Fred wasn't purring so loud so she could hear better and she strained her ear to listen. Low, dull buzzing. Distant, but not THAT distant.
She got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans over her bed shirt and tied her hair in a mess on top of her head. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, she walked downstairs, dodging Fred along the way. As she made her way to the bottom, the buzzing got louder. Following her ear, she went through the kitchen and out the sliding glass door onto the patio where the sound now blared into her ears. Crossing the concrete, she stepped onto the grass and peeked her head around at the end of the yard and was taken back with shock at what she saw.
She couldn't help but dig her phone out at the sight. She took both video and pictures. She never knew he had it in him. There Taylor stood, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, ratty boots on his feet, rattier gloves on his hands, and safety glasses across his face. In front of him, he went hard at what appeared to be an unfinished buffet table with an electric sander. Did they even own tools like that? Showed how much Mel knew.
She was so turned on at the sight, she didn't even know what to do with herself. What was he doing? Had he been out there all morning, engrossed in this little project? She almost didn't want to disturb him, but curiosity got the better of her. She crossed the yard and stood a ways away from him, both to escape the flying dust and so to not scare him. She'd learned a very scary lesson from her father on what could happen if you startled a man with power tools. After her father's fingertip nearly had to be replaced, and a six-year-old Melody was devastated for weeks, she never once approached a man with a power tool again. Instead, she waited in Tay's peripheral vision and let him notice her first.
It didn't take long. He looked up at her and smiled, turning off the machine. Lifting the safety glasses onto his head, he stepped away and placed his hands on his hips. "What do you think?"
"I think it's hot as shit out here and you're crazy for doing this in the direct sunlight."
"Yeah, well. A little, 'It looks great, hon' would have sufficed, too."
"Tay..."
He smiled and crossed the yard, pecking a kiss onto her cheek. "I'm only joking. It looks like shit, it's not even finished yet. But when it is, it'll be beautiful."
She smiled at him and rested her hands on her hips. "So what exactly are you doing?"
"Uh, kind of a wedding gift. Sort of. But you thwarted it, so..."
"Oh. I'm sorry..."
"It's supposed to be our first piece of furniture together. Our first family heirloom, you know? Something that can be passed down from one generation to another." Then he grinned at her. "I'm building an antique."
"You say this like we're actually gonna have children."
"We will."
She turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "If this is supposed to be OUR first piece of furniture and OUR family heirloom--how come YOU get to be the only one who works on it?"
He wiped his brow and looked at her. "What?"
"Shouldn't we work on it together?"
"Well, I mean, the sanding's almost done. I guess you could help me finish it..."
His voice trailed off as she approached it, examining it more closely. She was impressed. He was right, it would be beautiful once it was finished. She had no idea he was capable of doing anything like this.
"I've been working on it forever, doing this and that whenever I have the time," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I've rebuilt it several times already, trying to get it just right."
"Don't rebuild it again," she found herself saying.
"You think so?"
"I know so. It's perfect the way it is." She squatted down and looked at the underneath. And then she took a seat on the grass underneath the table. "Here, give me your glasses. And your knife."
"Knife?"
She looked out from under the table. "In your pocket. I know you carry one."
Without question, he fished out his knife and handed her both. "You sanded this already, right?" she asked, looking at the underside of the table.
"Yeah," Tay answered. "What are you doing?"
"Making it ours."
As she got hard at work carving into the wood above her head, she noticed Tay settle himself beside her, laying on his back, his head resting on the wooden rung that ran along the bottom of the table. She knew that had to be uncomfortable, but he seemed to be content laying there and watching her work.
She glanced down at him. "Don't you let these splinters get in your eyes."
He smiled at her. "I'm okay."
Mel wasn't an artist and she didn't try anything fancy. But she allowed Tay to direct her anyway. After all, this was his baby and she felt kind of bad taking it over. When she was finished, she scooted herself down to Tay's level on the ground and looked up at it. "It looks like a third-grader did it," she remarked.
"I love how you put your initials as M. H."
She looked over at him. "That's my name, isn't it?"
"Not soon enough."
They both looked up at the initials she'd carved into the table and smiled. Then she remarked, "This smells really good. Is it cedar?"
"Yes," he answered. "Dark cedar. And I've sanded the hell out of this bad boy and I still have a ways to go."
"I thought you said that part was almost done?"
"Well, I made it to the top, that's an accomplishment."
Mel smiled. "Have you thought about detail?"
"Detail?"
"Yeah. Detail. Carvings. Like, around the edges and legs and stuff."
"Um...I don't know...I mean, I kinda had this vision..."
"Oh. Well, never mind, it's okay, then. Don't let me come in here and take this over. You keep on doing what you're doing with it."
Tay was silent for a moment as he gazed up at Mel's little branded carving. "No...no, you tell me what's on your mind."
For the next couple of hours, they talked, dreamed, and planned big things for their little table.
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TAYLOR
Taylor sat close to Mel in church on Sunday morning. His leg crossed over his ankle and his arm rested on the pew behind her. It was a surreal feeling as he looked around, being there with her. He wanted to laugh at the jokes about getting struck down sitting next to her that ran through his head. But then he looked over at her as she listened intently to Pastor Derek Bradley talk and remembered how seriously she was trying to take this and he immediately cleared his own mind.
He still couldn't believe they were there, though. She hadn't wanted to actually go to church when she started her new quest for religious knowledge. Maybe she'd been inspired since their last session, he didn't know. But she was willing to embrace something that was important to him and he couldn't deny how touched he was by it.
Tay had a bad habit of letting things go in one ear and out the other. It was something he was trying to correct himself on. But he'd heard this sermon before. It wasn't anything unique today and he was growing more impatient by the second. This was why he never went to church. He got much more out of it when he read the good book in private with a cup of coffee in the comfort of his own home.
To keep himself entertained, he slid his hand into Mel's and she glanced over at him and smiled. God, she was beautiful. She wore a black and white patterned Chanel pants suit and his eyes landed on the heel that peeked out from the bottom of her pants leg that was crossed closest to him. He loved the white patent leather pumps with the black tips. She didn't wear them often enough.
He hadn't realized he was twirling her hair around his finger until she turned her head and he felt her hair pull. His eyes widened at his mistake but she simply smiled at him. This was something they'd done since they were three. It had become a reflex now.
As Mel turned her attention back to the pastor, something caught Taylor's eye as he looked past Mel in the set of pews across from them toward the front. As he let his eyes focus across the church, the blood drained from his face. They'd been there at least forty-five minutes now, how had he not noticed? As if on cue, Natalie, who'd been fanning her face with a church bulletin, turned her head around and glanced directly at him over her shoulder before turning her attention back to Pastor Bradley. She knew they were there. She'd known the whole time. He knew coming to church was a bad idea, he just knew it.
And what the hell was she doing in Tulsa, anyway? There was nothing left for her here. No reason for her presence. And definitely no reason for her presence in church. She had friends there, still, but he didn't honestly think she'd kept in touch. But maybe she had. Still...
He needed to get out of there and fast. He had no desire to sit there and watch her cut eyes at him for another half hour. He had no desire to even be under the same roof as her and it wouldn't have hurt his feelings one bit if he never laid eyes on her ever again.
He was already going to hell, so what he did next didn't really bother him. The abhorrent glance he got from the other side of Mel might scar the old woman for a couple of weeks, but he was willing to make that sacrifice. Plucking the pen from Mel's hand, he wrote in the middle of the sacred text that lay open, "We need to leave."
Mel looked over at him in horror and then dug for her cell phone. She entered a text and then showed it to him. "Texting wouldn't work for you??"
Damn. That would have been smarter--had he had his phone on him! Dammit! The one time! He took her phone from her and entered the text, "Phone's in the Jeep. Gotta go."
"Why?"
"I don't feel good, I want to leave. Let's go to lunch or something."
"You don't feel good and you want to go to lunch?"
Anxiously, he glanced up from his and Mel's world and up in Natalie's direction. She was still looking up front. "GET ME OUT OF HERE," he texted. "Quietly."
Mel looked up at him and furrowed her brow. "Sure, quietly would have worked if we'd sat in the back like I suggested."
Silently, he glared at her. Even in a text she could successfully get a sarcastic point across.
He hadn't wanted to make Mel aware of the situation, but he had no choice. Keeping secrets wasn't an option anymore. He was just scared to death of what her reaction might be.
She looked over at him and mouthed silently, "What's wrong?"
He entered the text into her phone. "Across the church, third row, pink shirt."
Mel followed his direction and he instantly felt her body tense up beside him. She uncrossed her legs and sat up straighter. Then she jerked her phone out of his hand and entered the text furiously, "WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING HERE? DID YOU KNOW SHE WAS IN TOWN? WHO THE HELL DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?"
"You can't cuss in church," he texted back.
She took back her phone. "I cussed in my phone, not in church."
He looked up at her and pursed his lips in objection.
She entered more text. "Did you just Tayface at me?"
He furrowed his brow and shook his head. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he typed into her phone.
She took her phone back. "See? Now you did it, too."
Frustrated, he widened his eyes at her and mouthed silently, "Let's go!"
She entered the text into her phone. "She's gonna notice. The entire congregation will notice, including Pastor Bradley, especially." Then she looked up at Tay, a new fear washing over her face and she went back into her phone. "Do you think anyone else realizes she's here? Are we being made the fools of here? Are we the only ones who didn't know?"
Tay looked back at Mel, seeing the concern in her face. He hadn't thought of that. Without a word, he retrieved Mel's purse from the floor and dropped her phone into it. He then took the holy book from her lap and closed it up, shoving it into her purse, as well.
As they prepared to stand to leave, it was as if someone was blessing them in that moment. They hadn't been listening and hadn't heard when it was time to stand for a hymn. With everyone standing, this was the perfect time to make their exit, especially since now Natalie couldn't see them. As everyone stood, Tay took Mel by the hand and led her swiftly and calmly down the side of the church and right outside the door.
In the parking lot, Mel slowed up her pace. "Tay, don't you think this is kind of silly? Did she see you?"
"Yeah," he responded. "She saw me. And trust me, NOTHING good happens when that woman is around. I'd rather not have any part in anything she's involved in."
"You hate her that much..."
"With a passion."
"Can we say hate in the church parking lot?"
Tay paused for a moment and looked around in thought. "I never thought about it..."
"I AM hungry, you know," Mel said suddenly. "All that talk of bread and wine and such--it's not noon yet, let's go find brunch."
Tay grinned at her. "This is why I love you."
"Why? Because I want brunch?"
"No, because you GET it. Now let's get the hell out of here."
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MEL
The band rehearsed and Mel sat in on the rehearsal. Taylor wouldn't let her out of his sight, so she played diva and demanded comfortable seating if he was going to make her sit through hours of rehearsal time. After she watched Tay and Zac haul the comfy arm chair in, she curled up with her throw blanket and made herself comfortable.
Tay had been really shaken up by Natalie's presence in church a couple days earlier. Mel knew he wasn't clinging to her for control, he was clinging to her because he was afraid to be alone. Not that he was afraid Natalie would do anything violent, but she knew that he felt like he needed witnesses wherever he went, just in case. They had no way of knowing why she was in town, how long she'd been in town, or how long she was staying, but he didn't want to take his chances.
Mel would have been lying if she said she didn't want to sit in on a rehearsal or two anyway. After all, one of her favorite things to do was watch Tay work. There was something so sexy about him when he was focused and all business. His being a workaholic was both a blessing and a curse.
However, the time began to wear on and Mel began to find things to distract herself. She couldn't help herself when she began to delve into the online fan world. She looked at Twitter, Instagram, the band's website, and even the mobile app. The mobile app was fun. And handy.
As she amused herself with fan ramblings, she came across something that piqued her curiosity. She'd always known it existed, but never bothered to look any of it up. Apparently, fan fiction was still a big deal in the Hanson fandom. Finding a couple of websites, she browsed some of the stories, the variety unbelievable. Some were appalling, some were ancient, and some were downright interesting. Sometimes, no matter the subject matter, if something is well-written enough, you're gonna read it.
She settled into one that had hooked her right away. It took her a chapter or two of it to get over the awkwardness that she was reading fiction about her fiancée and his brothers, people she had known since diapers, but once she got into it, she found herself forgetting it was even based on real people. Drinking in every word, she was easily able to lose herself in it and after awhile, she couldn't even hear the guys rehearsing.
Finally, she'd made it to the end and she was bawling. Like a little baby, she was bawling. The author had killed off Tay! Had the memorial service, the whole nine yards. Except as she read, it wasn't Tay anymore. It was just a character that shared his name. Sometimes there was nothing more refreshing than getting a good cry out as a result of a good book or movie.
Some people didn't seem to understand that.
She hadn't realized Tay was behind her chair when his voice made her nearly jump out of her skin. "Sweetheart, are you okay? What's the matter?"
Straightening up in the chair, Mel sent her phone to the home screen and wiped her eyes and smiled. "Nothing, I'm fine."
Coming around the chair, he sat himself on the arm. "You're crying, but you're fine."
"Yeah, it was just something I read. It was just that good, that's all."
"Anything I might be interested in?"
Mel shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. It's, uh, chick lit."
"Hm. Well it must be pretty good to make you react like that..."
"It was interesting."
"So..."
Mel raised an eyebrow at him. "So...what?"
Tay laughed. "Are you not gonna tell me about it?"
"I don't see why it matters."
He narrowed his eyes and looked at her. "Mel--are you--are you reading fan fiction?"
She felt herself blush in response.
"You are, aren't you? What in the hell would possess you to do something like that?"
"It was really good, though, I swear!" she said, defensively.
"That shit is weird and it's awkward--"
"They killed you in the one I read."
"And THAT. I die in fan fiction."
"At least I was sad about it..."
"Well I have THAT going for me, I guess."
"Tay, it's really not that bad. You should be flattered."
"You find one about yourself and then get back to me on it."
"Have YOU ever read fan fiction about yourself?"
"How do you think I know it exists?"
"Well maybe you just got ahold of some weird ones. There are some doozies out there."
"They're ALL weird."
"I think you need to open your mind a bit and appreciate it for what it is. Some of these authors are really talented."
"And when they're not writing weird shit about any of us, I might read what they have to say."
"You know, for someone as vain as you are, I'm kind of surprised."
Tay raised his eyes in amusement. "Vain? You think I'm vain?"
"Maybe vain is a strong word..."
"I think you're treading on thin ice."
"What if *I* wrote fan fiction?"
Tay laughed suddenly. Loudly. "What the hell would you write about?"
"What if I wrote about you?"
He looked at her for a moment before he leaned into her ear. "Make sure it's full of filth and debauchery and feel free to use me for inspiration. Frequently."
"So then that would make you MY muse for a change," she responded flirtatiously.
"Maybe you should put that in your title."
"See? Vain."
Tay grinned a grin that Mel found completely adorable as he stood up from the arm of the chair. "We're gonna finish up here soon and then we can get out of here."
"Have fun," she responded. "I'll be here!"
As he walked off and she watched him get back to rehearsal, Mel put down her phone and settled in to watch the rest of it. She watched him work and her wheels began to turn. If she were to write such a thing, what WOULD she write? The possibilities were endless--and SO much fun to dream up!
MEL
Who knew a hair tie could cause so much fuss?
Taylor had left the hair tie on his finger that Mel had wrapped it around. He never talked about it and she never questioned it. But every time she looked at his hand, her heart melted a little.
The buzz, however, was amongst the fan community. Everyone wanted to know the story behind "the black cloth around Taylor's finger." "Did he get married?" "Was it for some kind of cause?" And then the copycats popped up, sporting their own hair tie rings. The only way Mel even knew about any of this was because the girls in the office talked about what they monitored in the forums. They knew it was in bad taste to discuss what they read but sometimes you just couldn't help it.
The fans weren't the only ones enamored with Tay's new style choice. Mel was, too. She never could stop looking at his hand and the symbolism displayed on it. He was hers and he wore it proudly, albeit temporarily. She made a mental note to go ring shopping and SOON.
Mel awoke around midday one day after an incredibly late night, that hair tie ring on her mind and what she would want engraved on the inside of its replacement. As she shifted and stirred, sitting up in the bed, Fred meowed at her and jumped up on the bed. He always knew when she was wake, no matter what part of the house he was in. She scratched him behind his ear and lowered her face close to his. "I know you're not hungry, your daddy feeds you at the same time every morning." As he pranced around in her lap and raised his hind end to be scratched, Mel heard it. The low, dull, distant buzzing sound. Mel wished Fred wasn't purring so loud so she could hear better and she strained her ear to listen. Low, dull buzzing. Distant, but not THAT distant.
She got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans over her bed shirt and tied her hair in a mess on top of her head. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, she walked downstairs, dodging Fred along the way. As she made her way to the bottom, the buzzing got louder. Following her ear, she went through the kitchen and out the sliding glass door onto the patio where the sound now blared into her ears. Crossing the concrete, she stepped onto the grass and peeked her head around at the end of the yard and was taken back with shock at what she saw.
She couldn't help but dig her phone out at the sight. She took both video and pictures. She never knew he had it in him. There Taylor stood, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, ratty boots on his feet, rattier gloves on his hands, and safety glasses across his face. In front of him, he went hard at what appeared to be an unfinished buffet table with an electric sander. Did they even own tools like that? Showed how much Mel knew.
She was so turned on at the sight, she didn't even know what to do with herself. What was he doing? Had he been out there all morning, engrossed in this little project? She almost didn't want to disturb him, but curiosity got the better of her. She crossed the yard and stood a ways away from him, both to escape the flying dust and so to not scare him. She'd learned a very scary lesson from her father on what could happen if you startled a man with power tools. After her father's fingertip nearly had to be replaced, and a six-year-old Melody was devastated for weeks, she never once approached a man with a power tool again. Instead, she waited in Tay's peripheral vision and let him notice her first.
It didn't take long. He looked up at her and smiled, turning off the machine. Lifting the safety glasses onto his head, he stepped away and placed his hands on his hips. "What do you think?"
"I think it's hot as shit out here and you're crazy for doing this in the direct sunlight."
"Yeah, well. A little, 'It looks great, hon' would have sufficed, too."
"Tay..."
He smiled and crossed the yard, pecking a kiss onto her cheek. "I'm only joking. It looks like shit, it's not even finished yet. But when it is, it'll be beautiful."
She smiled at him and rested her hands on her hips. "So what exactly are you doing?"
"Uh, kind of a wedding gift. Sort of. But you thwarted it, so..."
"Oh. I'm sorry..."
"It's supposed to be our first piece of furniture together. Our first family heirloom, you know? Something that can be passed down from one generation to another." Then he grinned at her. "I'm building an antique."
"You say this like we're actually gonna have children."
"We will."
She turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "If this is supposed to be OUR first piece of furniture and OUR family heirloom--how come YOU get to be the only one who works on it?"
He wiped his brow and looked at her. "What?"
"Shouldn't we work on it together?"
"Well, I mean, the sanding's almost done. I guess you could help me finish it..."
His voice trailed off as she approached it, examining it more closely. She was impressed. He was right, it would be beautiful once it was finished. She had no idea he was capable of doing anything like this.
"I've been working on it forever, doing this and that whenever I have the time," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I've rebuilt it several times already, trying to get it just right."
"Don't rebuild it again," she found herself saying.
"You think so?"
"I know so. It's perfect the way it is." She squatted down and looked at the underneath. And then she took a seat on the grass underneath the table. "Here, give me your glasses. And your knife."
"Knife?"
She looked out from under the table. "In your pocket. I know you carry one."
Without question, he fished out his knife and handed her both. "You sanded this already, right?" she asked, looking at the underside of the table.
"Yeah," Tay answered. "What are you doing?"
"Making it ours."
As she got hard at work carving into the wood above her head, she noticed Tay settle himself beside her, laying on his back, his head resting on the wooden rung that ran along the bottom of the table. She knew that had to be uncomfortable, but he seemed to be content laying there and watching her work.
She glanced down at him. "Don't you let these splinters get in your eyes."
He smiled at her. "I'm okay."
Mel wasn't an artist and she didn't try anything fancy. But she allowed Tay to direct her anyway. After all, this was his baby and she felt kind of bad taking it over. When she was finished, she scooted herself down to Tay's level on the ground and looked up at it. "It looks like a third-grader did it," she remarked.
"I love how you put your initials as M. H."
She looked over at him. "That's my name, isn't it?"
"Not soon enough."
They both looked up at the initials she'd carved into the table and smiled. Then she remarked, "This smells really good. Is it cedar?"
"Yes," he answered. "Dark cedar. And I've sanded the hell out of this bad boy and I still have a ways to go."
"I thought you said that part was almost done?"
"Well, I made it to the top, that's an accomplishment."
Mel smiled. "Have you thought about detail?"
"Detail?"
"Yeah. Detail. Carvings. Like, around the edges and legs and stuff."
"Um...I don't know...I mean, I kinda had this vision..."
"Oh. Well, never mind, it's okay, then. Don't let me come in here and take this over. You keep on doing what you're doing with it."
Tay was silent for a moment as he gazed up at Mel's little branded carving. "No...no, you tell me what's on your mind."
For the next couple of hours, they talked, dreamed, and planned big things for their little table.
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TAYLOR
Taylor sat close to Mel in church on Sunday morning. His leg crossed over his ankle and his arm rested on the pew behind her. It was a surreal feeling as he looked around, being there with her. He wanted to laugh at the jokes about getting struck down sitting next to her that ran through his head. But then he looked over at her as she listened intently to Pastor Derek Bradley talk and remembered how seriously she was trying to take this and he immediately cleared his own mind.
He still couldn't believe they were there, though. She hadn't wanted to actually go to church when she started her new quest for religious knowledge. Maybe she'd been inspired since their last session, he didn't know. But she was willing to embrace something that was important to him and he couldn't deny how touched he was by it.
Tay had a bad habit of letting things go in one ear and out the other. It was something he was trying to correct himself on. But he'd heard this sermon before. It wasn't anything unique today and he was growing more impatient by the second. This was why he never went to church. He got much more out of it when he read the good book in private with a cup of coffee in the comfort of his own home.
To keep himself entertained, he slid his hand into Mel's and she glanced over at him and smiled. God, she was beautiful. She wore a black and white patterned Chanel pants suit and his eyes landed on the heel that peeked out from the bottom of her pants leg that was crossed closest to him. He loved the white patent leather pumps with the black tips. She didn't wear them often enough.
He hadn't realized he was twirling her hair around his finger until she turned her head and he felt her hair pull. His eyes widened at his mistake but she simply smiled at him. This was something they'd done since they were three. It had become a reflex now.
As Mel turned her attention back to the pastor, something caught Taylor's eye as he looked past Mel in the set of pews across from them toward the front. As he let his eyes focus across the church, the blood drained from his face. They'd been there at least forty-five minutes now, how had he not noticed? As if on cue, Natalie, who'd been fanning her face with a church bulletin, turned her head around and glanced directly at him over her shoulder before turning her attention back to Pastor Bradley. She knew they were there. She'd known the whole time. He knew coming to church was a bad idea, he just knew it.
And what the hell was she doing in Tulsa, anyway? There was nothing left for her here. No reason for her presence. And definitely no reason for her presence in church. She had friends there, still, but he didn't honestly think she'd kept in touch. But maybe she had. Still...
He needed to get out of there and fast. He had no desire to sit there and watch her cut eyes at him for another half hour. He had no desire to even be under the same roof as her and it wouldn't have hurt his feelings one bit if he never laid eyes on her ever again.
He was already going to hell, so what he did next didn't really bother him. The abhorrent glance he got from the other side of Mel might scar the old woman for a couple of weeks, but he was willing to make that sacrifice. Plucking the pen from Mel's hand, he wrote in the middle of the sacred text that lay open, "We need to leave."
Mel looked over at him in horror and then dug for her cell phone. She entered a text and then showed it to him. "Texting wouldn't work for you??"
Damn. That would have been smarter--had he had his phone on him! Dammit! The one time! He took her phone from her and entered the text, "Phone's in the Jeep. Gotta go."
"Why?"
"I don't feel good, I want to leave. Let's go to lunch or something."
"You don't feel good and you want to go to lunch?"
Anxiously, he glanced up from his and Mel's world and up in Natalie's direction. She was still looking up front. "GET ME OUT OF HERE," he texted. "Quietly."
Mel looked up at him and furrowed her brow. "Sure, quietly would have worked if we'd sat in the back like I suggested."
Silently, he glared at her. Even in a text she could successfully get a sarcastic point across.
He hadn't wanted to make Mel aware of the situation, but he had no choice. Keeping secrets wasn't an option anymore. He was just scared to death of what her reaction might be.
She looked over at him and mouthed silently, "What's wrong?"
He entered the text into her phone. "Across the church, third row, pink shirt."
Mel followed his direction and he instantly felt her body tense up beside him. She uncrossed her legs and sat up straighter. Then she jerked her phone out of his hand and entered the text furiously, "WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING HERE? DID YOU KNOW SHE WAS IN TOWN? WHO THE HELL DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?"
"You can't cuss in church," he texted back.
She took back her phone. "I cussed in my phone, not in church."
He looked up at her and pursed his lips in objection.
She entered more text. "Did you just Tayface at me?"
He furrowed his brow and shook his head. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he typed into her phone.
She took her phone back. "See? Now you did it, too."
Frustrated, he widened his eyes at her and mouthed silently, "Let's go!"
She entered the text into her phone. "She's gonna notice. The entire congregation will notice, including Pastor Bradley, especially." Then she looked up at Tay, a new fear washing over her face and she went back into her phone. "Do you think anyone else realizes she's here? Are we being made the fools of here? Are we the only ones who didn't know?"
Tay looked back at Mel, seeing the concern in her face. He hadn't thought of that. Without a word, he retrieved Mel's purse from the floor and dropped her phone into it. He then took the holy book from her lap and closed it up, shoving it into her purse, as well.
As they prepared to stand to leave, it was as if someone was blessing them in that moment. They hadn't been listening and hadn't heard when it was time to stand for a hymn. With everyone standing, this was the perfect time to make their exit, especially since now Natalie couldn't see them. As everyone stood, Tay took Mel by the hand and led her swiftly and calmly down the side of the church and right outside the door.
In the parking lot, Mel slowed up her pace. "Tay, don't you think this is kind of silly? Did she see you?"
"Yeah," he responded. "She saw me. And trust me, NOTHING good happens when that woman is around. I'd rather not have any part in anything she's involved in."
"You hate her that much..."
"With a passion."
"Can we say hate in the church parking lot?"
Tay paused for a moment and looked around in thought. "I never thought about it..."
"I AM hungry, you know," Mel said suddenly. "All that talk of bread and wine and such--it's not noon yet, let's go find brunch."
Tay grinned at her. "This is why I love you."
"Why? Because I want brunch?"
"No, because you GET it. Now let's get the hell out of here."
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MEL
The band rehearsed and Mel sat in on the rehearsal. Taylor wouldn't let her out of his sight, so she played diva and demanded comfortable seating if he was going to make her sit through hours of rehearsal time. After she watched Tay and Zac haul the comfy arm chair in, she curled up with her throw blanket and made herself comfortable.
Tay had been really shaken up by Natalie's presence in church a couple days earlier. Mel knew he wasn't clinging to her for control, he was clinging to her because he was afraid to be alone. Not that he was afraid Natalie would do anything violent, but she knew that he felt like he needed witnesses wherever he went, just in case. They had no way of knowing why she was in town, how long she'd been in town, or how long she was staying, but he didn't want to take his chances.
Mel would have been lying if she said she didn't want to sit in on a rehearsal or two anyway. After all, one of her favorite things to do was watch Tay work. There was something so sexy about him when he was focused and all business. His being a workaholic was both a blessing and a curse.
However, the time began to wear on and Mel began to find things to distract herself. She couldn't help herself when she began to delve into the online fan world. She looked at Twitter, Instagram, the band's website, and even the mobile app. The mobile app was fun. And handy.
As she amused herself with fan ramblings, she came across something that piqued her curiosity. She'd always known it existed, but never bothered to look any of it up. Apparently, fan fiction was still a big deal in the Hanson fandom. Finding a couple of websites, she browsed some of the stories, the variety unbelievable. Some were appalling, some were ancient, and some were downright interesting. Sometimes, no matter the subject matter, if something is well-written enough, you're gonna read it.
She settled into one that had hooked her right away. It took her a chapter or two of it to get over the awkwardness that she was reading fiction about her fiancée and his brothers, people she had known since diapers, but once she got into it, she found herself forgetting it was even based on real people. Drinking in every word, she was easily able to lose herself in it and after awhile, she couldn't even hear the guys rehearsing.
Finally, she'd made it to the end and she was bawling. Like a little baby, she was bawling. The author had killed off Tay! Had the memorial service, the whole nine yards. Except as she read, it wasn't Tay anymore. It was just a character that shared his name. Sometimes there was nothing more refreshing than getting a good cry out as a result of a good book or movie.
Some people didn't seem to understand that.
She hadn't realized Tay was behind her chair when his voice made her nearly jump out of her skin. "Sweetheart, are you okay? What's the matter?"
Straightening up in the chair, Mel sent her phone to the home screen and wiped her eyes and smiled. "Nothing, I'm fine."
Coming around the chair, he sat himself on the arm. "You're crying, but you're fine."
"Yeah, it was just something I read. It was just that good, that's all."
"Anything I might be interested in?"
Mel shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. It's, uh, chick lit."
"Hm. Well it must be pretty good to make you react like that..."
"It was interesting."
"So..."
Mel raised an eyebrow at him. "So...what?"
Tay laughed. "Are you not gonna tell me about it?"
"I don't see why it matters."
He narrowed his eyes and looked at her. "Mel--are you--are you reading fan fiction?"
She felt herself blush in response.
"You are, aren't you? What in the hell would possess you to do something like that?"
"It was really good, though, I swear!" she said, defensively.
"That shit is weird and it's awkward--"
"They killed you in the one I read."
"And THAT. I die in fan fiction."
"At least I was sad about it..."
"Well I have THAT going for me, I guess."
"Tay, it's really not that bad. You should be flattered."
"You find one about yourself and then get back to me on it."
"Have YOU ever read fan fiction about yourself?"
"How do you think I know it exists?"
"Well maybe you just got ahold of some weird ones. There are some doozies out there."
"They're ALL weird."
"I think you need to open your mind a bit and appreciate it for what it is. Some of these authors are really talented."
"And when they're not writing weird shit about any of us, I might read what they have to say."
"You know, for someone as vain as you are, I'm kind of surprised."
Tay raised his eyes in amusement. "Vain? You think I'm vain?"
"Maybe vain is a strong word..."
"I think you're treading on thin ice."
"What if *I* wrote fan fiction?"
Tay laughed suddenly. Loudly. "What the hell would you write about?"
"What if I wrote about you?"
He looked at her for a moment before he leaned into her ear. "Make sure it's full of filth and debauchery and feel free to use me for inspiration. Frequently."
"So then that would make you MY muse for a change," she responded flirtatiously.
"Maybe you should put that in your title."
"See? Vain."
Tay grinned a grin that Mel found completely adorable as he stood up from the arm of the chair. "We're gonna finish up here soon and then we can get out of here."
"Have fun," she responded. "I'll be here!"
As he walked off and she watched him get back to rehearsal, Mel put down her phone and settled in to watch the rest of it. She watched him work and her wheels began to turn. If she were to write such a thing, what WOULD she write? The possibilities were endless--and SO much fun to dream up!