Chapter 10Hazel
Chapter 10
Hazel
I lean my elbows on the wooden railing and stare into the depths of the murky green water.
A sea turtle is down there, swimming lazily about.
His fins swipe through the water. He noses through a patch of seaweed and paddles around a rock. Then he pokes his head up above the water.
My ringing phone pulls me out of a delightful daydream about how simple my life would be if I were born a turtle.
“Alexis, thank goodness,” I gush. “I’m freaking out.”
“Babe, calm down. Okay, I got your texts. This is not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”
“I kissed Jack Morgan! ” I hiss. “Weren’t we just talking about him yesterday? How he’s all swagger, no substance, and he has no clue?—”
“Wait, wait. Take a deep breath.”
I draw in air, then let it seep out, nice and slow.
“Better?” she asks.
“Maybe.” I sigh.
The turtle dips underwater again and swims toward a far corner of the lagoon. “I wish I was a sea turtle. Sea turtles don’t make stupid and embarrassing mistakes.”
“Who said kissing this guy was a mistake?”
“I did. It was. He’s the worst, Alexis.”
“Well, you didn’t think that yesterday, obviously. I know you, sister. You don’t hook up with just anybody. You’re incredibly picky. How did this even happen? Walk me through it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You do want to talk about it, or you wouldn’t have called me and left that desperate message. Come on, don’t clam up now.”
“Let’s just talk about you. Distract me. Tell me about how everything’s going there. How’s Melody?”
“Nope. No way. You’re not pulling that. We’re talking about you and your Hawaiian kiss, and I want details.”
I tilt my head to the sky. This is exactly why Alexis is my best friend—right here. She won’t let me hide.
Everyone else is fine with it when I bow out or take the back seat. Alexis doesn’t let me get away with that.
I remember how we always bumped into each other because we went to the same beautician in town for facials, manicures, and pedicures. Sometimes, we sat in the waiting room together for hours or side by side in our salon chairs without saying even one word. When we finally had our first conversation, she cracked up laughing. “All this time, I thought you were such a snob! You’re actually really cool.”
Since then, she’s had this habit of prying things out of me.
It’s good for me. I feel that.
Even now, I feel relief when I start articulating what’s on my mind. It’s really good to have a friend to talk to.
“Okay…” I balance my elbow on the rail and pull at the ends of my hair. “Hrm. Well, it started because of the photos. Like I told you in my text. Then, I guess we sort of hit it off. He’s got swagger. I knew that about him but knowing that about someone is different than experiencing it. I totally fell for it… the charm, his know-it-all attitude, his good looks…”
“Wait—he’s handsome?”
“Not just handsome, Lex. He’s gorgeous.”
“Ohh! Girl! I like where this is going.”
“That makes exactly one of us.”
“You deserve this. This is good for you. You’ve been such a hermit ever since the Derek Incident.”
This is another reason why I love Alexis. She’s willing to only refer to my horrible experience with Derek—the married dentist from my dad’s office—as the Derek Incident like I do.
Whenever that dating disaster comes up, we both tread carefully. A less awesome friend might be insensitive and blurt out something about how badly I got hurt. Alexis always tiptoes over the eggshells with me.
“I know, but the Derek Incident really messed with me. It’s going to take me a while to get over that.”
“It’s been three years, Hazel.”
“I-I know…”
“You can’t hide forever. You have to get out there. You are such a great person. Maybe this thing with Jack will just wiggle you out of your shell a bit.”
I watch the turtle poke out of the waters again in the shady cove. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’re saying he’s awful and terrible, all swagger, but there has to be more to the story than that. You’re not an idiot, Hazel. You are super smart, and you wouldn’t go for a jerk. He must be a nice guy on some level.”
A memory surfaces of how he cradled me in his strong arms. He laid me down so carefully. So gently.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know what’s going on. I wish you were here so you could meet him and give me a second opinion.”
“You don’t need me, honey. You just need to relax and have some fun with it. Quit worrying!”
I rub my forehead.
I wish I could quit worrying.
I’m not wired like Alexis. She seems to breeze through life, snatching up fun wherever she can. I love that about her, but I’ve never managed to emulate it.
I fret.
I stress.
I worry.
We chat a little more, mostly because she’s dying to know what he looks like. I promise to text her the photos I sent my mom. Then I paint a picture for her with words, and she gets a big kick out of my description.
“He sounds like a tall drink of water! You hit the jackpot. I can’t wait to hear how it goes. Promise to call me again soon. I gotta run before Melody tries another swing set flying experiment.”
“Flying experiment?”
She hangs up instead of answering, which is probably a good thing. I’ve seen Melody launch herself off the swing set in Alexis’ backyard before, and I’m glad Alexis hurried to intervene.
I slump over the railing again, my shoulders stooped.
Over in the shaded cove, the sea turtle has climbed onto a low, flat rock. I wander that way to get a better look. There’s a maintenance shed perched on the edge of the lagoon.
The turtle’s bald head wobbles. He turns to face me, then shuffles his fins on the rock so that he’s closer to me.
His eyes are bulgy. He blinks at me a few times.
I lift my hand and wiggle my fingers his way.
He moves closer.
“ Aloha kakahiaka, ” a man’s voice says.
I blink.
Did that turtle just talk to me?
“Looks like you got yourself a friend,” the male voice offers. It’s coming from over by the shed.
As I look that way, a man with a big smile steps out of the shed's shadows. He carries a bucket.
He unhooks a rope barrier that cordons off the area around the shed. A ‘Staff Only’ sign hangs from the rope.
“Oh, the turtle?” I ask.
“? Ae .” He holds the roped area off. “You like a little shade? It’s cooler over here than out there. You can visit him.”
“Thanks… I’m okay.”
“Well, you want to come over and get some shade, get a little closer to your friend, and go right ahead. Just move the rope aside. Anyone gives you trouble, tell ‘em Akoni said you could.”
He gives me a big, friendly wink as he passes and pats my shoulder. “Our home is your home for a little while. This guy is a good listener, too. Might be hard to believe, but I’ve known him since he fit in my hand.”
He holds out his palm to show me.
“Wow, he was just a tiny guy then. How long ago was that?”
“Five years ago, now. I used to feed him with a bottle when he was teeny-tiny. Now, he’s getting nice and big. He’ll go out into that big blue ocean in a couple of months and have himself a life, but for now, we take good care of him. Here—” He reaches into his bucket and pulls out a head of romaine lettuce. “You’ll have a real fan if you give him this.”
He wanders off, humming to himself.
I hesitate in the sunlight, watching the turtle. After a few minutes, the kind invitation wins me over. I unlatch the rope barrier, slip through, and settle into the shaded area.
My back leans against the shed’s rough, rustic shingles. I stretch my legs along the smooth stones that pave the ground. I’m wearing my flip-flops, and it feels nice when a cool breeze off the water tickles my toes.
The sea turtle seems pleased that I’ve joined him in his cove.
He scoots along his gray rock until he’s peering at me from about four feet away.
“You know,” I whisper to him, “you look a lot like my ex-therapist, Chester. He was bald, too.”
The turtle bobbles his head. He looks right at me, definitely interested. Not scared at all.
He likes my whispering, apparently.
“He moved to Canada,” I explain. “It was sort of out of the blue. At least, that’s how I felt. We were wading through some tough stuff together…”
I let my head rest back against the shingles.
At least in this quiet staff area, I have some privacy. Out on the walkway, resort guests walk along and chatter happily. Here in this shade, it’s just me and this turtle.
I tear off a piece of lettuce and toss it onto the rock.
He munches lazily.
“Like the Derek Incident,” I murmur. “Chester and I talked about that a lot.” I toss another leaf.
The turtle seems to nod as he chews. Maybe it’s just the movement of his jaws working. But it’s comforting to imagine that he wants me to go on.
Chester used to nod just like that when he wanted me to continue.
“I know that was about more than Derek. It was about… trust and vulnerability. And… yes. I’ve got some issues there. Of course, that all goes back to college.”
Munch, munch, munch. The ruffled green leaf disappears down his gullet. I toss him more.
“I mean, that was my first relationship. We called it love. To me, back then, that was love. And I know we were naive to think that at twenty, we could say a four-letter word and know what we were talking about.”
Then, just like that, I’m in it: The confusing maze of my past.
Back in college, I dated a guy, Sully, who I was sure I’d marry. After college, he jetted off to Italy for a year in Sardinia. While I’d been blissfully, stupidly assuming our relationship would progress straight through wedding vows and into a starter home, he’d made different plans.
“Chester says that I have abandonment issues,” I tell the turtle.
He nods.
He’s listening.
“He says that’s normal… and that if I work at it, I can have a vibrant, healthy, fulfilling relationship. But I keep seeing my friends walk down the aisle, and I’m terrified that…”
I trail off and chuck a leaf of lettuce.
This was always the point in my sessions with Chester where he’d push me a little.
“Hazel, I know you have been hurt. You’ve had problems in relationships in the past. That’s true. But that does not mean you will always have problems in relationships.”
“Maybe I’m being too hard on Jack,” I murmur.
The turtle— I’ll call him Chester, I decide—inches toward me. The remains of a lettuce leaf poke out of his beak-like jaw. As he chews, the leaf breaks apart. A piece of it falls onto the rock.
“I mean, he’s annoying to work with. We have different approaches. Different styles. But… that’s okay, right? There is nothing wrong with different .”
When a parrot swoops down to snatch up the stray piece of lettuce, I realize I have earned an entire audience.
Not just one therapist, but two.
They both listen patiently as I go on.
“Maybe Alexis is right, and on some level, he’s a nice guy. I mean, he was nice yesterday… I think. It’s hard to know. I’ve been duped before.”
“ Squawk! Duped… duped!” The parrot tilts his head at me.
Even though I’ve heard the parrots at the resort mimic other guests, it’s a surprise to hear my own words thrown back at me.
For a minute, I’m stunned. Then I gather myself.
“Yeah, for sure. Duped,” I agree. “There I am, thinking something great is happening. Something romantic. Then, ya know, the rug gets pulled right out from underneath me.”
“Rug gets pulled! Squawk! ”
I smile at the bird. “I heard your lot has taken up residency on this island. You sure are noisy.”
“ Squawk! ”
“Yeah, you know it, don’t you? Anyway, Jack is handsome. I will admit that.”
I yank off another leaf and toss it out toward the lagoon. The parrot pecks at it, and the turtle’s strong, steady jaws pull it in at the same time.
I lean back against the shed and sigh. “This vacation is a disaster. What am I going to do?”