Chapter 14
Elijah
“You’ve been busy,” Mom commented with a lift of her eyebrow. It was a strange déjà vu to be in this town, with my mom insinuating she knew something about me I hadn’t told her. Only this time, I wasn’t in trouble… and I was a grown man.
The espresso machine sputtered, steaming milk for someone else’s latte. A mom and dad with two small children sat on two teal loveseats, their North Face coats marked them as tourists. On the coffee table between, their drinks were forgotten in a mad dash to clean a hot chocolate spill. Warm and colorful, it was the kind of cafe that felt lived in—someplace a spill would be cleaned up and nothing was forced to be pristine.
“I guess so. Just hanging out with Hazel before I have to go back to Detroit in a couple of weeks.” It was true. But it didn’t express how I was constantly preoccupied thinking about her. Or how being with her felt… right. I didn’t know how to explain it—and I wasn’t going to try.
How two weeks was too short a time to have left of these moments.
The past few days, had been hard on her. But the sermon was already growing distant—much to Sterling’s efforts.
I lifted my latte to my lips and looked out the cafe window at the dark blue waters of Grand Ridge Lake. Autumn leaves floated on its flat surface, and a teenage couple sat on a bench by the beach. Their mannerisms were jerky and awkward, the way young people were when they didn’t know how to behave with someone they liked. It was sweet.
I could see how people fell in love with this place. I was beginning to feel like it was possible for me, too.
“Oh, I don’t mean your time spent with our lovely veterinarian.”
We both knew exactly what she was insinuating, but I was working very hard to keep that a secret.
This town was not made for secrets.
I needed my plans to remain quiet for one more week, that was it. At that point, I’d have it all set up and I could tell Hazel about the community fund I’d established with the help of the town clerk and head librarian. It would benefit households that weren’t able to afford vet care. It’d require charitable events or crowd funding from time to time, but it would take some of the burden off of Hazel.
Mom squinted at my blank expression before flicking one hand. “Okay, don’t tell me. But I still think it’s very sweet.”
“You know this rumor mill goes in both directions. You’re renting the cabin for another month?”
“I am.” She beamed. “I’m really enjoying myself. I figured, why not? I wanna remember what November is like up here.”
“Did you also rent a four-wheel drive vehicle with snow tires?”
“I did.”
“Okay, then I’ll worry less.”
“Oh, son, you don’t need to worry. Turns out, there’s a lot of people up here that will help me if I get stuck in a ditch.” Her eyebrows twitched, and she got a faraway look in her eyes. “I forgot how much I liked being a part of this place.”
I made a “Hmm” sound of understanding.
She looked up at the clock above the cash register. “Well, I should get to Bettie’s Pour House. Ginny is driving me to Deb Creger’s for Euchre Club.”
I narrowed my eyes in mock suspicion. “Now I see where you’re getting your intel.”
Mom leaned forward and whispered, “Those women know everything that’s going on around here.”
Laughing, I stood to give her a hug goodbye. “It’s about time I head out, too. Gonna go for a walk on the beach with Hazel before we get dinner.”
“It’s a great day for it. She seems wonderful; I can’t wait to meet her. I only vaguely remember her as a kid.”
“It’s still new.”
Didn’t mean I wasn’t in over my head.
“You seem…” Mom tilted her head, considering me. “Committed.”
“I’ve been committed before,” I argued.
“Of course. It’s just different.”
A twitch of my eyebrow was my only acknowledgment.
“Okay, well, I’m off. Be safe. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Have fun.”
I ordered a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso for Hazel, and promised to tell her that Millie said hi. She was a tall woman, with an easy smile. And then, I left Country Grounds a few minutes later.
Taking in the beautiful fall day—my breath coming out in swirling steam—I turned the corner toward the vet clinic. A man just a few feet away made me come to an abrupt stop. He was almost exactly my height and stature.
I knew I’d run into him eventually, but seeing my dad without a warning shot anxiety through me.
When I’d cut my visit short last summer, he and I had not ended on good terms. I couldn’t remember a time we ever had been.
His venomous, harshly whispered words, “How did you come from me?” had me, on more than one occasion, considering going back to therapy. It couldn’t be healthy to imagine cutting him just as deeply as he had me. I probably shouldn’t circle back in my memory to the disgusted way he looked at me.
“Don’t make her pay for your sins,” he’d warned. And I was pretty sure Hazel was paying for what he perceived as my sins. In fact, his smear campaign against the auction was probably done in an attempt to hurt me, and not necessarily Hazel.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t catching any of that heat.
But Hazel certainly was—on the internet, in haughty side-eyed glances at the grocery store, and with a dip in appointments at the clinic.
She just wanted to raise money for the humane society. Money she needed because Dad loved control more than he loved anything else.
“Son.” A muscle jerked in his tight jaw.
“Dad.” My voice was void of all emotion. I didn’t have anything else to say to him, and I moved to walk around him.
He stayed where he was, not blocking my way, but not making it easy for me to go around him, either. “I told you to stay away from her.”
I willed myself to keep going, to not give him the satisfaction of a response.
“I knew you’d take her down to your level. I should never have let you come here last year.”
I had taken a step past him, but despite my better judgment, I turned to face him.
“What exactly is my level? I don’t pretend to be anything but who I am. You’re the one hurting people, not me. I’ve been a grown man for a while now. You don’t tell me what I can do anymore—and that’s what you hate about me.”
“No, son, I hate your sinful ways, and the way you draw good people to sin. You make good people do bad things.”
It took a force of will not to crush the paper cup containing Hazel’s latte. Memories from my past rushed to the surface, rippling out old shame I still struggled to rebuke.
“I didn’t make anyone do anything,” I stated, reminding me just as much as telling him. Despite the way I had been depicted, I hadn’t been the devil tempting Eve to taste from the Tree of Life; I’d just been a boy with a crush on a girl.
He shook his head, disappointed as ever.
“But are you really mad at what I did? Or are you mad that when I got caught, it threatened your image?” I demanded.
For a moment, I thought I’d struck a nerve, because he looked over my shoulder. I got sick pleasure from it.
Then his lips twisted into a sad smile. Jerking his chin toward something over my shoulder, he said, “That’s the kind of man she deserves.”
I twisted my neck and saw Hazel walking with Dennis to his truck. His dog trotted next to him, the leash held loosely in his hand.
They looked good together. Easy. Natural.
I was grateful my dad couldn’t see my face as his words hit their mark.
“Give her time, and she’ll see the truth of it for herself,” he commented sagely, as if passing on some fatherly wisdom.
With my shoulders back and my head up, I walked away from him. But I’d hesitated too long, and I knew that he knew he’d hurt me.
Being weak in front of him was worse than the pain.
“Are you cold?” Hazel’s voice near my right shoulder pulled me out of the recesses of my mind. The wind whipped around us, sending the loose hair at her temples across her face. The evergreens and gray sky behind her gave the concern in her brown eyes a solemnity. Instead of her usual warm smile, her beautiful lips were pursed.
I glanced behind us at the long lines of shoe prints in the sand and wondered when was the last time I’d spoken as we walked Lake Michigan’s shoreline. “No, I’m not cold. Are you?”
The corner of her mouth twitched up. “You saw how many layers I put on before we left my office.”
My laugh came out in one puff of steam.
“I’m not cold,” she went on. “You’ve been quiet.”
“Yeah, sorry. How was your day?” I took her gloved hand in mine, and we continued down the beach. To my left, the stone-colored water crashed with wave after wave—white bubbles against the darkness, stretching as far as the eye could see. The surface was rougher than normal, but it didn’t have the large curling waves of the ocean.
Her shoulders fell. “Busy. It’s always busy. Not with patients, unfortunately, but with stuff to do. I’m falling behind.”
I stopped and tugged her arm so we could speak face-to-face. “Can I help with anything?”
“I don’t want to bother you with it.”
“I want you to.”
“I don’t even know what you could do… I don’t… I don’t know how to give any of these tasks to someone else.”
I nodded. “I get that. I think it’d be good if you did, though.”
She tightened, her shoulders drawing back up and her spine straightening.
I kept my voice gentle, hoping my words wouldn’t hit a sore spot. “Hazel, you can’t keep this pace up. It’s taking so much from you.”
I knew she was sleeping more than she had been before we’d started dating—taking more time outside of the clinic in general. But even this much work wasn’t healthy. The dark circles under her eyes were still there, even if they were lighter. The reason she was spending less time working was because of me. Would she go back to overworking at the rate she had been before I’d arrived?
If she could just share the load with her staff… I could see all the weight carried on her shoulders—and it was a lot.
“What am I supposed to do?” Her tone made it clear I should tread carefully.
“You’re doing cleaning, and stocking, and ordering. Give those tasks to someone else.”
She scoffed. “I can’t do that. Everyone’s working fifty-plus hours a week, and then I’m going to be like, ‘By the way, here’s more work that was not in your job description. Enjoy.’”
“How many hours are you working, Hazel?”
“Less than I need to be because I’m spending time with you,” she bit back. Shaking her head, she took a calming breath. “I’m sorry. I want to be here.”
She shook her head again. “I’m really sorry. I’m just overwhelmed and tired, and I don’t know how to make everything work.”
Feeling like she might need to move again, I turned us back the way we came and started walking. “What about that woman’s daughter? The one who wanted the job?”
Her lifted eyebrow could only be described as annoyed. “You mean, the woman who said her daughter couldn’t have a job?”
“There are other high schoolers. You could hire someone for two, three-hour shifts a week. There are things that only you can do, but things like advertising or community outreach—things that actually bring in more business—can be given to others. Unloading that work could pay for itself.” After a moment of silence, I asked, “Do you want to keep talking about this or do you want to let it be?”
“Let it be.”
“Okay.” I lifted our joined hands and kissed the back of hers. Her glove was warm against my cold lips.
“You said you ran into your dad?”
And he drudged up old memories better left in the past.
I hummed confirmation, but didn’t elaborate.
“Is that why you were being so quiet?”
“Probably.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
The knot in the pit of my stomach tightened. “It was just a playlist of all his greatest hits.”
Now it was her voice that was gentle. “What are those?”
I kicked at a clump of frozen sand, which flew in every direction. “It all boils down to the fact that he thinks I’m not worthy. That I’m not good.”
That you would be better off with someone else.
“Not worthy of what?”
“Acceptance, forgiveness… love.”
She stopped, the toes of her shoes planted in the sand, and I turned to face her. The firm set of her jaw, and the conviction in her eyes, made the center of my chest feel tender, and I looked out at the turmoil playing across the water’s surface.
“You are good,” she said simply. “You are worthy of love.”
“I know,” I mumbled. Needing to move, I began to walk again, and she joined me—her feet falling in rhythm next to mine.
Her tone was softer, almost swallowed by the wind. “I’m falling for you.”
My step stuttered before I brought us to a stop again.
“Is it too soon to say that?” She tugged her hand from mine and ineffectively smoothed it over her hair.
I shook my head. The words were trapped inside my throat, caged in tight behind years of hurt, blocked by wounds I thought I’d healed in therapy. I wanted to tell Hazel, but my pain had been dredged up too recently.
My expression felt hard, my features set to portray impenetrability—jaw firm, eyebrows drawn, eyes narrowed at nothing over her shoulder. “Are you really?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around me and pressed her cheek against my chest.
I hugged her closer, resting my chin atop her head. It was easier to tell her than it was to accept her statement. “I’m falling for you, too.”
Already fallen, actually.
The air around her felt charged, shifting with new energy.
The waves continued to clap, and the wind continued to rush past pulling and pushing us. But I could have sworn that the sun broke through the dark gray blanket of clouds, making everything warmer and brighter.
Tilting her head up, she stretched to her toes. Her mouth was soft as it brushed mine. I drew her in, as if everything I needed could be found in the delicate skin of her lips. She sighed and melted into my arms, and I was helpless to her silent demand. My cage’s doors curled open, and the steel barriers that had protected me gave way under the slightest urging from Hazel.
I wanted to open to her completely. Draw her in. Lay bare. All of my wounds in full view.
I just hoped she would still want me after she saw them.