what if...?
I was reading through the final draft of my novel a few days ago, and it set me to wondering...what if I'd written the fanfic version a little differently? What if Taylor made it to the five-year point after all? It took me a while to get into the rhythm of writing this one, but I think it's going to work out. Yeah, yeah, I know I've said that before, but I'm confident about this one. I've stuck most of my works-in-progress on hiatus - set them as hidden files so I can't mess with them. But anyway, this is 'Waiting For The Day', what I have of it anyway.
Chapter 1: Ayden
“Tay? You awake?”
A slight rustling noise and the squeak of bedsprings was the only answer to my question. Then:
“Ayd, it’s five in the morning for crying out loud.”
“I just wanna ask you a question.”
“Can’t it wait until later?”
“No, it can’t. And besides, I know you weren’t asleep. You’re nervous about today; we all are. Even Mum is, though I know she’s been denying it all week.”
“Why would I be nervous about today?” my triplet asked levelly. “It’s just a normal Thursday.”
“Oh, well, let me see…” I dragged it out. “Maybe because it’s July 19? And because today Dr. Carlisle will be calling with the results of that blood test you had done on Monday?”
“It is not-” I heard him muttering; I knew he was most likely checking the calendar that hung on the wall near the head of his bed. “Shit, it is too…”
I heard him getting out of bed, and within seconds his head popped up in my sightline. “I know what today is,” he told me softly. “It’s just…”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” He cocked his head to the side. “You wanted to ask me something.”
“Yeah. What do you want to do with your life, if you’ve survived this?”
“I’ve always wanted to go into the music business,” he answered. “I mean, what’s the good of landing a 98 in the HSC for Music 2 if I’m not going to put it to good use?”
“I thought you were going to be a music teacher.”
He shook his head; blonde curls flew in all directions. “I’ve long decided that I’ve had enough when it comes to school. I don’t even want to go to university anymore. I know that the three of us made a pact, that we’d go to university together, but…” He shrugged. “I’d rather put my talents to use and hopefully land a recording contract. But not on my own; you know how badly I get stage fright.”
“So what you’re saying is…you want to start a band?”
He nodded emphatically. “Exactly. You, me, Ebony and Zac, in a band of our own.”
“What about Isaac?”
“He’s halfway through his degree; he doesn’t exactly have a lot of time for devoting all his time to getting a musical group off the ground. But I really want to do this. You’re probably not aware of it, but this has been something I’ve been working towards for a long time; it’s been a dream of mine for so many years. And I…I don’t want to do it alone.” He paused. “And I want to ask Natalie to marry me.”
“Whoa; that’s some plan you’ve got there.” I paused. “What if…”
He picked up on the meaning in my unfinished question, shrugging again in that characteristic way of his. “I don’t know, if you want my honest answer. I guess I just go through all the chemo again, hope it doesn’t kill me in the process.”
“You’re so morbid sometimes, Taylor,” I said, shaking my head.
“I’m just being practical, Ayden.”
“I know you are.” I reached down and gently grabbed his hand. “Like you said, it’s five in the morning. Well” I checked my watch “it’s now more like quarter past five. But promise me that you’ll at least try and get some sleep? If Dr. Carlisle calls with good news, you know exactly what Mum and Dad will do to celebrate. And heaven knows you’ll need all the energy you can get.”
He laughed, nodding knowingly. “If it’s anything like the party we had five years ago, then I’d say you’re right.” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and smiled. “I promise I’ll get some sleep,” he assured me.
“You make sure you do; you’re not exactly at full strength yet, and I can easily take you if I really want to.”
Taylor snorted. “As if,” he scoffed as he disappeared from sight, bedsprings squeaking as he settled into a comfortable position in his bed. “I’ve got a few more sessions with Dr. Manheim, a couple more X-rays and it’s over. No more rehab after the end of this month.”
“Go to sleep, Taylor.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
~ + ~
Morning broke an hour or two later, and with it came nervous anticipation; Dr. Carlisle would be calling at about 10:30 am.
“I’m so freaking nervous,” Taylor confided. “Look, my hand’s shaking.” He lifted his left hand into view, the scar on the inside of his wrist from the IV he’d had in April in plain sight; it was clearly shaking. “What if she calls with bad news?” he asked worriedly. “I mean…I don’t feel any different, I’m not sleeping more than I should be and the only pain I’m in is a headache every so often and a heck of a lot of aching after my physio sessions.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t think I could cope.”
He checked his watch. “It’s 10:30,” he said quietly. “Any second now…”
And as if by magic, the phone rang. He just froze, shaking ever so slightly; snapping out of his trance, he hopped up and walked into the kitchen. “Hello?…oh, hi Dr. Carlisle…could you hold on just a second? I want to take this in my room…”
He walked upstairs to our room, closing the door behind him.
I sighed, wishing he had the peace of mind to take the most important phone call of his life with me in the room, and walked into the kitchen. Mum sat at the kitchen bench, slowly drinking a cup of coffee and reading the Friday paper. I made myself a cup of coffee (black, four sugars) and sat down on the stool next to her.
“What the heck is his problem?” I asked. “I mean, I’m his triplet…he shouldn’t have to leave the room just to take a phone call; I’ve been in the room when he’s called Nat and he hasn’t cared.”
“Honey, you know it’s nothing against you,” Mum reminded me. “But this is the most important phone call of his life; it could determine his whole future. He’s been waiting for this day since he went into remission. We all have.”
“I know that,” I answered in irritation.
He came back into the kitchen a few minutes later, eyes downcast; he didn’t speak as he replaced the cordless in its cradle and started rummaging in the fridge.
“Taylor?” Mum asked. “What did Dr. Carlisle say?”
He simply shrugged; he set the 4-litre bottle of milk that had been bought the afternoon before on the bench and went in search of the tin of Milo that had a permanent home in the pantry. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard under the bench and started making a glass of chocolate milk - one of his many vices. His other major vice was his addiction to jellybeans - cherry, piña colada, popcorn, peanut butter, blueberry and coconut jellybeans were his favourites, and Ebony had caught him many a time sneaking into her room to raid her personal stash.
“Taylor?” Mum repeated.
A grin finally crept onto his face. “Dr. Carlisle said…” He paused for dramatic effect. “She said that I’m in the clear. I’m pretty much cured.”
~ + ~
The party that night was sure to go down in Hanson genealogy as one of the wildest and most joyful celebrations in our family’s history. Not even the hundreds of 16th, 18th and 21st birthday parties, the seemingly endless stream of weddings and the multitudes of christenings could ever match up. And we had a legitimate reason to celebrate.
I sneaked out onto the back deck, Kristal’s hand in mine, and checked around for authority figures. “All right, we’re safe,” I told her.
She stuck her head out over my shoulder. “Wait…who’s that in the corner?”
I reached over and flicked the light switch; Taylor and Natalie were engaged in a very passionate kissing session in a corner of the deck, oblivious to the scene raging around them. “Well, well, well,” I murmured. “The little Aussie battler and his girlfriend are going at it…what say we do the same?” I kissed Kristal gently and looked into her eyes. “Hmm?”
“You present a very convincing argument, I must say,” Kristal replied. She tilted her head back ever so slightly. “Hmm…the jury finds you guilty of your crime and sentences you to half an hour of torture at the hands of the head jailer.”
“And what, may I ask, is my crime, oh honourable judge, juror and executioner?” I asked cheekily, playing along.
“Your crime” she sucked in a sharp breath as I kissed her just below her right ear, one of her sensitive spots “is that you are one of the most fucking gorgeous guys I know. And you need to be punished.”
“Ooh, punishment,” I said slowly. “Then punish me, Kristal Marie Thompson.”
“Oh, I will, Justin Ayden Hanson,” she replied seductively.
“All right, party’s over; inside, all four of you.”
“Aw, Mum!” I complained.
“Don’t ‘aw, Mum’ me, Ayden; inside, now.”
I groaned and followed my mother inside; Kristal met my gaze, and she grinned evilly. We’d continue this little escapade later; right now, we had a party to attend. And a certain triplet brother to introduce to the joys of chocolate Mudslides. While Ebony and I had been drinking alcohol since our mid-teens (Ebony had been sneaking our father’s Jack Daniels from the age of fourteen), Taylor had never touched even a glass of champagne. The only time he got close was at Christmas, when our grandmother’s legendary Christmas pudding was served - it was normally soaked in brandy and set well alight.
----
Damn, I gotta do my tech assignment, Mum will have my head if I haven't made a decent start on it by the time they get home...
Chapter 1: Ayden
“Tay? You awake?”
A slight rustling noise and the squeak of bedsprings was the only answer to my question. Then:
“Ayd, it’s five in the morning for crying out loud.”
“I just wanna ask you a question.”
“Can’t it wait until later?”
“No, it can’t. And besides, I know you weren’t asleep. You’re nervous about today; we all are. Even Mum is, though I know she’s been denying it all week.”
“Why would I be nervous about today?” my triplet asked levelly. “It’s just a normal Thursday.”
“Oh, well, let me see…” I dragged it out. “Maybe because it’s July 19? And because today Dr. Carlisle will be calling with the results of that blood test you had done on Monday?”
“It is not-” I heard him muttering; I knew he was most likely checking the calendar that hung on the wall near the head of his bed. “Shit, it is too…”
I heard him getting out of bed, and within seconds his head popped up in my sightline. “I know what today is,” he told me softly. “It’s just…”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” He cocked his head to the side. “You wanted to ask me something.”
“Yeah. What do you want to do with your life, if you’ve survived this?”
“I’ve always wanted to go into the music business,” he answered. “I mean, what’s the good of landing a 98 in the HSC for Music 2 if I’m not going to put it to good use?”
“I thought you were going to be a music teacher.”
He shook his head; blonde curls flew in all directions. “I’ve long decided that I’ve had enough when it comes to school. I don’t even want to go to university anymore. I know that the three of us made a pact, that we’d go to university together, but…” He shrugged. “I’d rather put my talents to use and hopefully land a recording contract. But not on my own; you know how badly I get stage fright.”
“So what you’re saying is…you want to start a band?”
He nodded emphatically. “Exactly. You, me, Ebony and Zac, in a band of our own.”
“What about Isaac?”
“He’s halfway through his degree; he doesn’t exactly have a lot of time for devoting all his time to getting a musical group off the ground. But I really want to do this. You’re probably not aware of it, but this has been something I’ve been working towards for a long time; it’s been a dream of mine for so many years. And I…I don’t want to do it alone.” He paused. “And I want to ask Natalie to marry me.”
“Whoa; that’s some plan you’ve got there.” I paused. “What if…”
He picked up on the meaning in my unfinished question, shrugging again in that characteristic way of his. “I don’t know, if you want my honest answer. I guess I just go through all the chemo again, hope it doesn’t kill me in the process.”
“You’re so morbid sometimes, Taylor,” I said, shaking my head.
“I’m just being practical, Ayden.”
“I know you are.” I reached down and gently grabbed his hand. “Like you said, it’s five in the morning. Well” I checked my watch “it’s now more like quarter past five. But promise me that you’ll at least try and get some sleep? If Dr. Carlisle calls with good news, you know exactly what Mum and Dad will do to celebrate. And heaven knows you’ll need all the energy you can get.”
He laughed, nodding knowingly. “If it’s anything like the party we had five years ago, then I’d say you’re right.” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and smiled. “I promise I’ll get some sleep,” he assured me.
“You make sure you do; you’re not exactly at full strength yet, and I can easily take you if I really want to.”
Taylor snorted. “As if,” he scoffed as he disappeared from sight, bedsprings squeaking as he settled into a comfortable position in his bed. “I’ve got a few more sessions with Dr. Manheim, a couple more X-rays and it’s over. No more rehab after the end of this month.”
“Go to sleep, Taylor.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
~ + ~
Morning broke an hour or two later, and with it came nervous anticipation; Dr. Carlisle would be calling at about 10:30 am.
“I’m so freaking nervous,” Taylor confided. “Look, my hand’s shaking.” He lifted his left hand into view, the scar on the inside of his wrist from the IV he’d had in April in plain sight; it was clearly shaking. “What if she calls with bad news?” he asked worriedly. “I mean…I don’t feel any different, I’m not sleeping more than I should be and the only pain I’m in is a headache every so often and a heck of a lot of aching after my physio sessions.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t think I could cope.”
He checked his watch. “It’s 10:30,” he said quietly. “Any second now…”
And as if by magic, the phone rang. He just froze, shaking ever so slightly; snapping out of his trance, he hopped up and walked into the kitchen. “Hello?…oh, hi Dr. Carlisle…could you hold on just a second? I want to take this in my room…”
He walked upstairs to our room, closing the door behind him.
I sighed, wishing he had the peace of mind to take the most important phone call of his life with me in the room, and walked into the kitchen. Mum sat at the kitchen bench, slowly drinking a cup of coffee and reading the Friday paper. I made myself a cup of coffee (black, four sugars) and sat down on the stool next to her.
“What the heck is his problem?” I asked. “I mean, I’m his triplet…he shouldn’t have to leave the room just to take a phone call; I’ve been in the room when he’s called Nat and he hasn’t cared.”
“Honey, you know it’s nothing against you,” Mum reminded me. “But this is the most important phone call of his life; it could determine his whole future. He’s been waiting for this day since he went into remission. We all have.”
“I know that,” I answered in irritation.
He came back into the kitchen a few minutes later, eyes downcast; he didn’t speak as he replaced the cordless in its cradle and started rummaging in the fridge.
“Taylor?” Mum asked. “What did Dr. Carlisle say?”
He simply shrugged; he set the 4-litre bottle of milk that had been bought the afternoon before on the bench and went in search of the tin of Milo that had a permanent home in the pantry. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard under the bench and started making a glass of chocolate milk - one of his many vices. His other major vice was his addiction to jellybeans - cherry, piña colada, popcorn, peanut butter, blueberry and coconut jellybeans were his favourites, and Ebony had caught him many a time sneaking into her room to raid her personal stash.
“Taylor?” Mum repeated.
A grin finally crept onto his face. “Dr. Carlisle said…” He paused for dramatic effect. “She said that I’m in the clear. I’m pretty much cured.”
~ + ~
The party that night was sure to go down in Hanson genealogy as one of the wildest and most joyful celebrations in our family’s history. Not even the hundreds of 16th, 18th and 21st birthday parties, the seemingly endless stream of weddings and the multitudes of christenings could ever match up. And we had a legitimate reason to celebrate.
I sneaked out onto the back deck, Kristal’s hand in mine, and checked around for authority figures. “All right, we’re safe,” I told her.
She stuck her head out over my shoulder. “Wait…who’s that in the corner?”
I reached over and flicked the light switch; Taylor and Natalie were engaged in a very passionate kissing session in a corner of the deck, oblivious to the scene raging around them. “Well, well, well,” I murmured. “The little Aussie battler and his girlfriend are going at it…what say we do the same?” I kissed Kristal gently and looked into her eyes. “Hmm?”
“You present a very convincing argument, I must say,” Kristal replied. She tilted her head back ever so slightly. “Hmm…the jury finds you guilty of your crime and sentences you to half an hour of torture at the hands of the head jailer.”
“And what, may I ask, is my crime, oh honourable judge, juror and executioner?” I asked cheekily, playing along.
“Your crime” she sucked in a sharp breath as I kissed her just below her right ear, one of her sensitive spots “is that you are one of the most fucking gorgeous guys I know. And you need to be punished.”
“Ooh, punishment,” I said slowly. “Then punish me, Kristal Marie Thompson.”
“Oh, I will, Justin Ayden Hanson,” she replied seductively.
“All right, party’s over; inside, all four of you.”
“Aw, Mum!” I complained.
“Don’t ‘aw, Mum’ me, Ayden; inside, now.”
I groaned and followed my mother inside; Kristal met my gaze, and she grinned evilly. We’d continue this little escapade later; right now, we had a party to attend. And a certain triplet brother to introduce to the joys of chocolate Mudslides. While Ebony and I had been drinking alcohol since our mid-teens (Ebony had been sneaking our father’s Jack Daniels from the age of fourteen), Taylor had never touched even a glass of champagne. The only time he got close was at Christmas, when our grandmother’s legendary Christmas pudding was served - it was normally soaked in brandy and set well alight.
----
Damn, I gotta do my tech assignment, Mum will have my head if I haven't made a decent start on it by the time they get home...