Two Shades Of Green. (Tayvin/Talvin)

- c h a p t e r 8 -

SONG: Loosing Your Memory- Ryan Star.

"We were," she was about to say; lunge into a pity campaign about how numb and sore she felt, but it was pointless. A dead end. Instead she swallowed her breath, closed her eyes and nodded, her lips closed. Her arms smoothed over the material of her cardigan, down her sides until meeting with her skater skirt where she fisted her right hand with the soft thickness of the clothing. He shifted his focus from the picture frame onto the girl. The buttons had been mismatched, resewed, and the jumper, that she had so clearly grown out of, clung to her hips. It was lavender and one of the pockets had 'Kate' printed in soft yarn. Compared to his white t-shirt and blue jeans, she fit perfectly into the picturesque house. Whilst, he stood out like a sore thumb. He felt rigid and cold where as she felt warm and cosy. He had met the girl only an hour ago and in those sixty minutes he learnt about what made her life orbit, always spinning. It was what scared him. He didn't know what to say and how to say it. Sure he had lost someone, but not to that extent. He could still call her. He could have his pain taken away by a simple conversation. He still had that. She didn't. Someone being ripped away from your arms, before you were aware of anything; before you knew that when someone went like that, they just weren't going to come back. She was going to be robbed of so many things, just by the loss of one person. Very quickly he started to be amazed by this little girl and how her shoulders were always pulled back and her smile didn't dare fade. Another thing that became clear was that: this wasn't his business to intrude on. People suffered in this house. Maybe they were okay now. Maybe they were still healing. But he couldn't help anyone with what he had. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, sometimes I get carried away. I'll leave you be. Just...um take of yourself." He said in a rush, striding for the door. He heard her sigh as she opened the door for him. "I'm sorry, again." He apologised and she laughed slightly shaking her head, "Stop saying that. It's weird." Adam smiled and nodded to her before sliding his shades on his face and getting into his car. She drew in a large breath when she closed the door and leaned against it. Her head on the wood.

She knew she would never hear the end of this if her mom found out. "Please, dad. Don't let mom know, Please." She said aloud to him, receiving silence in response. She knew he heard her. He always did. She smiled to the ceiling whispering, "Thank you." She passed through the kitchen, reminding herself to get something to eat when she saw the time on the clock. She clasped the metal handle to the fridge, her eye catching a picture of Caleb being held by a Spongebob magnet. He was smiling. His big green eyes beaming at the camera, unaware of what he was about to endure. "I'm sorry, Caleb. I'm sorry you didn't know him. It isn't fair." She whispered to the baby form of her brother captured forever in the photograph.

Later her grandfather would find her in Harry's t-shirt curled up into a ball, fast asleep. Scott kissed her small forehead and pulled the covers over her. He wondered if their dad's scent still clung to his old t-shirts. His cologne was most impressive. It hit you right in the face, but gently. Scott would describe it as being embraced by a bear who had befriended you. Peculiar, yes, but that was Harry. Unique in the most strangest of ways. People didn't remember his colourless lips in his lasts moments or the sterilised hospital room, because that wasn't him. He didn't suffer for himself. He lived for everyone. He wasn't gone to them, here was still here, pacing the hallways like he always did. Laying in his bed next to Taylor, standing beside Caleb on the field. Scott looked at his picture one last time, on the wall, before deciding that he had done enough reminiscing for one day.

When he saw his daughter walk through the door shoulders slumped, the exhaustion visible from under her eyes, he didn't lecture her about sleep or anything of the sort. The time was almost two in the morning and Scott was awoken from his sleep by the cracking of the front door opening. He sat up, the reclining chair adjusting to his new position, and moved the blanket from his lap. Taylor smiled at her father and proceeded to drop her purse on the kitchen counter and go to the fridge to satisfy her hunger than had been contributing to her lightheadedness for the last thirty minutes of her shift. It was her own fault. She had stupidly forgot to make herself something that morning, thus making her feel faint and her whole body begging her to sit down. She was in the house. She could rest. She wondered why she worked herself until she was literally about to drop, but then she reminded herself she had no other choice. Her job was something she dreamed of well before they asked her in Kindergarten.

He examined his daughter sitting on the rotating chair at the bench, his arms crossed and his back leaning against the couch. There were new creases appearing on her forehead, he knew this as a sign of ageing. A lot had twisted her over the years. She was bent and snapped, moulded into situations she couldn't escape. All while he stood back and watched them break her; into unrecognisable little fragments of the once happy and bright little girl he called his. She had grabbed herself a mango and passionfruit juice and the leftovers of the lunch he had gotten Katrina and Caleb. Which just so happened to be Subway, much to her delight. "You won't be able to sleep on a full stomach," he interjected quietly, motioning to the already half gone juice. At least she still had the appetite. At least that hadn't disappeared. "I wouldn't have been able to sleep on an empty one either." She shot back, obviously beaten down by exhaustion and stress. He chuckled and laughed, silently agreeing with her. She was not in the right state of consciousness to mess around with. She was tired and he knew what he was in for if he set her off. He wanted to ask her how it went today. Visiting Harry. She wasn't heartbroken anymore, but he couldn't say it didn't sting her every once in a while.

Her relationship with Cucumbers and Tomatoes was still intact, because she left them in the wrapper and threw it in the bin. He smiled at that. Harry would always call her out for this particular habit of hers. It wasn't the best example for the kids, but thankfully they took after Harry in the eating department. "Austin and Charlie are coming down next week, for Oliver's birthday. Said they wanted everybody to be there," Scott said to her back as she cleaned up the crumbs on the bench. She sighed and nodded, continuing to wipe, "I'm going to have to talk to the hospital, see if I can get a day off. I can't promise that I'll make it." Scott had knew her schedule was tight. That was why he was always willing to help out with Katrina and Caleb, but he hadn't seen Oliver and Amethyst in three months and neither had Taylor. Surely she'd want to see them too. "They are your niece and nephew, Taylor, you have to be there. Everybody is going to be there, your cousins, everybody. It's his fifth birthday, Taylor." She wiped her wet hands on her uniform and made a mental note that she would have to wash and iron it. She could sense the disappointment in her father's voice. She couldn't do anything about it. It was beyond her control; a lot of things were. "I know that, Dad, but I can't exactly barge in there and threaten them, can I?" Scott shook his head and mumbled a response, which he thought was clear but apparently wasn't. He let out a breath, with his eyes closed. His feet trembled and he could feel himself giving into sleep.

"This is messed up, Taylor." She looked at her father as if he just insulted her, and in some insane way he probably did. She nodded slowly, "Yeah, it is."

He knew that he'd lost a son but he hadn't realised he'd lost his daughter too.