Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Blakely
The fruit tray clutched in my hands was heavy. I’d weighed it down with every type of seasonal fruit I could think of and even made a special dip that I plopped in the center.
I’d spent a lot more time than I normally would have on the simple side dish since I was still trying to ingratiate myself to Hazel.
Whose doorbell I’d just awkwardly rung while trying not to drop said fruit tray.
“Come in!” I heard her call through the door, and I pushed the doorknob down with my elbow. It swung open quickly, and I had to catch it with my foot to keep it from slamming backward.
I bumped it closed with my hip and did it all without spilling the fruit. With a triumphant smile, I turned to see Hazel holding Sadie between her legs.
“She gets in moods and likes to sprint out the door,” she said. She let Sadie go, and the dog bounded to me and hopped around my legs with her tongue lolled out to the side.
“She’ll stop in a second, but you can bring that in the kitchen,” she said, motioning to the dish in my hands .
Their house was beautiful. Wide open floor plan with the highest ceilings I’d seen since my parents’ house.
But unlike my parents’ house, which was cold and only decorated for aesthetics, their house was welcoming with soft, neutral colors. The back wall just beyond the living room was lined with windows that reached almost to the ceiling, and to our right was a kitchen that was just as inviting.
I slid the tray onto the large island and turned just in time to see Hazel wince with her hand on her very large stomach. She caught me looking and shook her head.
“Just Braxton Hicks,” she said through gritted teeth. She took a deep breath before she stood.
It took me longer than I would’ve liked to admit to remember what Braxton Hicks contractions were.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, waddling over to the counter where she’d lined up several different juice options in pretty glass pitchers and had prosecco chilling in a bucket.
“I’ll just have orange juice, but I can get it.”
“No, I promise I’m capable,” Hazel said, her tone sharp enough that I immediately backed off. “Sorry. I know I’m pregnant, but I still want to do things. Luke has been a little overbearing. He doesn’t want me to lift anything or stand up too long or breathe.”
She handed me my orange juice in a pretty, stemless champagne flute with an apologetic smile.
“That’s kind of sweet,” I said.
And she shrugged, filling another glass with cranberry juice and club soda. “I’ll probably look back on it and think it is. Anyway, I’m so glad you accepted my invitation.”
“Thank you for inviting me. I thought I was going to be late, but I’m the first one here?”
Hazel climbed onto a barstool and sipped her drink, pointing at the stool across from her. I sat down as she said, “I actually asked you to come over early. I figured we could use this time to…talk.”
My glass froze mid-air and inches from my lips.
“I promise this isn’t an ambush. I thought about asking you to lunch, but last time we had lunch, both of us were kidnapped before it ever began.”
I nearly choked on my saliva. She wasn’t wrong, but damn, I wasn’t expecting that. I looked up at her, and when I saw the small grin tugging on the corner of her lips, I couldn’t contain my own smile.
We both laughed, and I was so thankful for the levity it brought.
“We never got a chance to know each other back then, and well, I know how much you mean to…everyone. I want that opportunity. We can try to bond .”
Surprised laughter bubbled up from my chest, and the feeling stirring there felt mildly like hope and relief.
“You’re serious?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. I’m not going to lie and pretend that you weren’t my favorite person for a really long time. But there’s more to every story, and I will say, everyone believed that. They obviously didn’t know the extent, but Blakely, they never believed that you would have done something like that. And I want to know the woman that instilled that kind of faith and trust in all my favorite people.”
I didn’t even get the stinging warning behind my eyes. Suddenly I was just crying, and Hazel reached out and gripped my thigh.
“Well, shit. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she said.
I chuckled and wiped my eyes. “You’re just so nice.”
She shrugged, and I was able to compose myself with a few deep breaths. “I…umm…read your book.”
Hazel’s eyes widened, and she sipped her drink. “I wish there was prosecco in this. I’m sorry if?— ”
“No,” I said quickly, cutting her off before she could apologize. “Please don’t apologize for anything. You could have dragged me through the dirt and made me out to be the worst person alive. You could have done that, because it was definitely warranted.”
Hazel propped her hands on her belly and winced again. She breathed through the pain, and it was on the tip of my tongue to say something. But she opened her eyes and smiled. “I wouldn’t have done that. Like I said, stories are complex. There are multiple points of view, and I could only tell my side of it. Your side was much more intricate. Those details we didn’t know at the time were important, and if I’d tried to guess, I would’ve been absolutely wrong. Although it is fiction, I could have fibbed. I just didn’t want to.”
A lightness washed over me. Hazel was right, stories were complex, and often the ones most worth telling were the hardest. But it was so rewarding. If I hadn’t gone back to Texas and found the strength to tell it, my life would be so…empty.
“So, how are you settling back in?”
Hazel was laughing so hard, she kept crossing her legs, trying not to pee her pants.
I’d just finished telling her about one of our college antics that ended in both Luke and Devon rescuing the rest of us while we were marooned in the middle of a lake.
Hazel finally caught her breath, and her laughing abruptly came to a halt as she winced again. That time she massaged the bottom of her stomach and made an “O” shape with her lips.
We’d been sitting there for an hour “bonding,” as she’d referred to it. And it was no surprise that Hazel was just as great as I knew she would be. My friends were great judges of character—apart from the one mishap.
But Hazel had been in pain the entire time. Every once in a while, she’d wince and hold her stomach or brace her elbows on the counter to breathe through it. Each of the pains subsided somewhat quickly, but this one wasn’t going away.
“Are you okay? Should I call Luke or?—”
She shook her head, but her face screwed up even more. “No, all the guys are at some barcade, and I don’t want to bother him. I’ve been having those stupid fake contractions for a few days, too. But Blakely, I don’t think?—”
Her eyes suddenly went wide, and she tried to look around her stomach. She rolled her lips and slid off the barstool. When she turned around, she gasped and mumbled a curse under her breath.
“I think I’m in labor,” she said. She spun around and motioned to the small wet spot on her barstool. I glanced down and saw a twin spot blooming over her leggings.
“Oh, fuck. You think?”
“Yes, I think. I think that was my water breaking, but,” she said, the panic rising in her voice. “I don’t know for sure. I’ve never done this before.”
“Okay, okay.” I stood and looked around the kitchen. For what, I had no idea. “We should stay calm and?—”
“I need to change and then go to the hospital. I’ll call Luke on the—” Her words cut off as she groaned, the sound starting deep in her chest.
I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I was the only person there. So, I jumped into action, drawing on anything I could remember from books I’d read or movies I’d seen with women who’d gone into labor.
“Okay, is your bedroom down here? Can you change on your own?”
Her only response was a nod. She reached for me, and we hurried past the living room and down the hallway. She waddled into the bathroom with her hand braced on her back, taking quick, shallow breaths while I spotted two bags next to the bedroom door. There was a cute yellow stuffed animal sitting on top of one, so I guessed those were her hospital bags .
A minute later, she came out of the bathroom wearing a pair of sweatpants and with towels in her arms.
“I put on a diaper. How weird is that. Oh, you found the bags.”
“Yes, I’ll grab these. What are the towels for?”
I followed her out of the room and into the entryway, where Sadie was standing, wagging her tail like she was expecting to go with us.
“I don’t want to get uterus juice all over my caa-AAAR!” The word ended on a guttural groan, and I stopped in my tracks. She dropped the towels and doubled over, bracing her hands on her knees.
“I’ll drive you.” I scooped up the towels and told Hazel to stay put. I ran outside and tossed the bags in the back seat. I also arranged the towels on the passenger seat and scooted it back a few inches.
When I returned, Hazel had tears in her eyes. “Fuck, this hurts like a bitch.”
I rolled my lips, trying not to laugh, but another painful groan echoed through the air.