Home.
All Taylor could think about right now was how much she longed to be at home, with her family.
Travis' arms.
His hugs.
Sweet kisses in the morning, coffee on her bedside table.
And her babies.
She sighs as she checks her phone one last time before take off, pouting a little when there's no message from Travis or Donna.
'They're okay, you know. You'll see them soon'.
'A 17 hour flight is not soon, dad. I just thought that Trav might be up with Isla by now. She's just started teething'.
'Oh I know. I had drool all over my shirt when I left yours the other day', Scott laughs, a fond smile on his face as his mind drifts to his youngest granddaughter.
'She's started earlier than Vivi, anyway. She's still drool-less, for the time being'.
Taylor can't help the soft smile that breaks across her face as she thinks of her daughters, their smiling faces peering back at her from her phone screen: Eloise, 2 (and three quarters, as she was fond of telling everyone); and 6-month-old identical twins Vivienne and Isla. Each and every one looked like Travis as a baby: darker hair, greeny-blue eyes, chubby cheeks. Each and every one had something else in common too: a complete and utter daddy's girl, through and through.
She sighs as she sits back in her seat, the jet now safely in the air, settling in for the long journey. It feels like she's come down with a case of Deja vu, rushing from a concert in Tokyo to watch Travis and the Chiefs play in the Super Bowl, this time in San Francisco, rather than Vegas.
The tour had been organised before she'd found out about the twins. TS12, as her fans had jokingly named it before it had been released, was one of her happiest albums: a reflection of meeting Travis, falling in love, getting married, and becoming a parent. It was her favourite, really, and she was overjoyed that it was this album that followed The Eras Tour, and allowed her to get back on stage again.
But along came the twins, and she'd had to postpone the dates for a year, meaning an unfortunate tight scramble with the Super Bowl, just like back in 2024. Except this year, everything had changed.
This year, she was coming back for her husband. Her family. Her girls.
They'd made the decision together that the girls would stay with Travis in Kansas City while Taylor was away, the prospect of two 17 hour flights within a week not appealing with a toddler and two babies. Donna had volunteered to stay with him, helping out while he was at practice, and Andrea had joined her when they'd all flown to San Francisco at the beginning of the week and stayed in a rented villa near to the team hotel.
Taylor was so grateful for the help of their family, but she knew Travis had it covered: he was a great father, just like she knew he would be. He was there for every middle of the night meltdown, 6am diaper changes, scraped knees and snotty noses, belly tickles - and, most recently, throwing a tiny pink football around in the backyard. Seeing Travis evolve into the father he'd always dreamed of being always made Taylor's heart flutter; she had no doubts about leaving the girls in his care.
But the truth was, she missed them deeply. She'd been away for a week now - the most she'd been apart from the twins since they were born in the summer. She was still breastfeeding, too, so she supposed that was working overtime on her emotions and hormones as well as settling on top of her mom guilt. She knew they were in great hands, knew they were having fun given her daily check ins, knew they would hardly miss her while she was away. But she missed them, desperately.
