No Way Back (a Taylor Hawkins fan fiction)

Chapter 12 - Make Your Own Coffee

Taylor sat in his backyard, staring at the expanse of his swimming pool, a coffee on the table beside him, a cigarette in his hand. It was quiet; the kids were still asleep, the sun rising in the sky. He scratched at his facial hair pensively and looked at his phone. He wanted to call Gen. He wanted to hear her voice. His bed had felt more empty than usual the last two nights and he woke up with her on his mind. This was not territory he was familiar with, nor fond of. He had been married for seven years, the uncertainty and worries and underlying nervousness (which he hated to admit was a factor) were all foreign to him after years of comfort and familiarity. He picked up his phone, opened a blank message.

I miss you, he typed, then quickly erased it and set his phone back down, picking his coffee up instead.

"Daddy?" he heard Shane, his oldest, call from the patio doors.

"Morning buddy!" Taylor smiled, getting up and heading across the patio. "Is your sister up yet?"

The next few hours were spent getting the kids dressed, fed and ready for a play date. A couple down the street had two little ones the same age as Shane and Annabelle and they were excited to see their friends after having been gone for a whole week. When he arrived back from dropping them off, the house was quiet and his thoughts immediately settled back on Gen. He picked up his phone.

Hi.

He felt ridiculous.

****

Sunday Funday had given way to Hangover Monday and Genevieve was lying on her stomach in bed, nursing a throbbing head and a bruised ego when her phone vibrated with Taylor's text on the bedside table. She picked it up, squinted at the screen and smiled weakly.

Hi back. she responded.
—what are you up to?
Sleeping off Sunday Funday.
—uh oh. I'm jealous I missed that.

She rolled onto her side. She didn't know how to respond or what to say. She felt partly angry that he hadn't texted her yesterday, but moreso foolish for feeling that way. He was a father, his kids had been gone for a week. The man was constantly on tour – of course he'd want to spend every second with them. She sighed.

Would have loved to have you there. Today is not so pretty though.
—haha, poor girl.
Oh don't feel bad for me. I brought it on myself. Work is going to be a blast tonight.
—ouch.

Gen dragged herself out of bed, wondering if Rachel had made coffee. She shuffled down the hallway to the kitchen and was startled to find Michael sitting there in his boxers, peeling an orange.

"Dammit, Miley you scared me!" she gasped.

"How you feeling?"
Gen merely grunted and grabbed the coffee pot. Empty.

"Damn you!" she moaned. Michael laughed as Rachel entered the room behind him in a tank top and undies, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Looks like you'll have to make your own coffee, babycakes," Rachel said, accepting an orange slice from a grinning Michael.

"You're both assholes," Gen replied, eyes narrowed, mouth betraying a tiny hint of a smile at its corners.

"You heard from him, didn't you?" Rachel raised an eyebrow.
Gen shrugged in response. "I knew it! God I'm good. High five, Miley." She held out her hand and Michael responded accordingly.

"Shhhhhh," Gen put a hand to her temple. Rachel and Michael snickered.

After a coffee, a shower and a late afternoon nap, Gen pulled on some skinny jeans and a black tank top and headed down to The Sunroom to open. She worked alone on Tuesday nights. Jerry was sitting at the end of the bar when she walked in, looking over a binder full of paperwork and receipts.