Chapter 22 #2
I start the car, letting the low rev of the engine fill the silence. “So, is this something you have to do all semester?”
Nodding, she stares out the window. “Yeah. We have to volunteer somewhere, and I picked the retirement village.” She hesitates, her fingers tapping against her knee.
“After seeing my mom sick—helpless—it made me think. There’s probably a lot of other people in the same situation.
Ones who can’t take care of their yards or go grocery shopping and can’t afford to hire someone to do it.
I figured maybe it’d help to have someone looking out for them. ”
Her words hit me harder than I expect.
I grip the steering wheel, my mind drifting back to the hospital hallways and whispered updates. Back to the moment my father collapsed, helpless as his heart gave out right in front of me.
I know what she means.
Loss changes you.
It shifts your entire perspective, makes you see things you never noticed before. But I wasn’t like Hazel. I was focused on grades, on med school, on getting everything right. I wasn’t thinking about giving back. I was just trying to push forward.
Hazel, though. She already gets it.
I glance at her as she stares out the window, lost in thought.
She’s already thinking about others in a way most people don’t.
That’s rare.
And damn, I envy it.
We pull into the parking lot of the retirement village, a quiet, well-kept space lined with trimmed hedges and a small garden by the entrance. A few older residents sit on the porch, chatting, enjoying the sun.
Hazel unbuckles her seatbelt. “Alright, we better check in.”
“Lead the way.”
Inside, the air smells of pine and lavender. A receptionist greets us with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up when she sees Hazel.
“We’re so excited to have you,” she says. “Honestly, this is such a lovely program. I’m sure you’ll be missed once your time is up.”
Hazel smiles. “I’m glad I can help.”
The receptionist beams. “We’re so happy to have you, Dr. Pierce.”
“Please call me, Adrian,” I offer, and she nods.
I’ve noticed lately, the whispers have stopped. No more sideways glances, no more hushed conversations when I pass. It’s peaceful.
The receptionist hands Hazel a list and a small map with names circled. “These residents are struggling the most right now. Since there are two of you, you might get through more than one today, but it’s entirely up to you.”
Hazel studies the list, nodding. “We’ll see what we can do.”
We step out into the courtyard, and I let her take the lead.
“Any particular place you want to start?” I ask.
“Not really.” She shrugs. “I figured we’d start with the closest and work our way around. See what they need help with.”
“Good plan,” I say.
“Maybe one of us could help with groceries, and the other could do something festive,” I suggest.
She nods. “Good idea.”
“How long do you have?”
“Only a couple of hours,” she says. “Then I have to write a research paper for school.”
“Fair enough.” I glance down at the list. “Who’s first?”
She scans the names. “Mr. Gideon.”
I nod, tucking my hands into my pockets. “Alright. Let’s go meet him.”
The retirement village is a collection of single-story homes arranged in a square pattern around a central courtyard with benches and a small garden.
We head to Mr. Gideon’s place first.
The moment he spots us through the screen door, a wide grin spreads across his face. He pushes it open and leans against the frame, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the naughty doctor.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And Miss Hazel. Now, Hazel, I didn’t know you kept such questionable company.”
I can’t help but grin. This guy’s got personality.
“He’s alright.” She smiles. “Mom likes him.”
Mr. Gideon lets out a dramatic sigh. “Ah, yes. Mothers always like the troublemakers.” He gives me a once-over, then wags a finger. “You do look like a heartbreaker. Bet you’ve left a trail of crying women in your wake.”
Hazel giggles while I shake my head.
“I think you’re giving me way too much credit.”
“I was a looker back in my day too, you know,” he says, tapping his temple. “Had the ladies lined up, but I was a gentleman.” He winks. “Mostly.”
Hazel bites back another giggle. “We’re here to help you, Mr. Gideon.”
“Well, don’t just stand there. Come in.” He waves us inside. “Tell me what you’re gonna do for me.”
Hazel launches into her well-rehearsed explanation of the project. As I listen, I’m impressed. She’s got a natural way of speaking. Clear, direct, thoughtful. She may be only sixteen, but she’s already more put-together than most adults I know.
Mr. Gideon nods along, rubbing his chin. “Alright, alright, so you’re basically my free labor?”
Hazel sighs. “We prefer to call it volunteering.”
He snickers. “Same thing.”
In the end, he decides he doesn’t need help with groceries because he still enjoys flirting with the cashier too much. Instead, we tackle his Christmas decor together.
I glance down at Hazel’s outfit: jeans and white sneakers. “Didn’t exactly dress for pulling decorations out of storage, did you?”
She huffs, tugging at her sleeves. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Mr. Gideon plops down in a chair under the porch. “Don’t worry, kid, real work builds character. You should see the kind of stuff I had to do at your age.”
“Yeah?” I say. “What kind of stuff?”
“Oh, you know.” He waves a hand vaguely. “Built a barn, chopped wood, walked uphill both ways to school. The usual.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, biting back a grin. “Sounds tough.”
We spend the next couple of hours untangling strings of lights, carrying boxes of ornaments from the storage room, and setting up his elaborate Christmas display. By the time we finish, we’re both dusty, slightly out of breath from climbing ladders, and a hundred percent over it.
Mr. Gideon claps his hands together. “Well! You both survived. That’s good. Thought the doc might collapse halfway through.”
I shake my head, wiping sweat from my eyebrow. “Not a chance.”
Hazel snaps a quick photo of us with Mr. Gideon’s fully decorated house in the background and sends it to her sister. I wonder what Amelia will think. My phone dings almost immediately.
Amelia: Oh my God, THANK YOU.
Another message follows a second later.
Amelia: She asked me to help with that project, but I haven’t had the chance. Been swamped with work and taking care of Mom. I’ve been thinking about you, though. ??
I type back.
Me: I’ve been thinking about you too.
Hazel groans, reading over my shoulder. “Gross. Can you guys not flirt while I’m standing right here?”
Mr. Gideon barks out a laugh. “Get used to it, kid. Men like him? They never quit.”
I shake my head, grinning despite myself.
As I’m dropping Hazel off at home, she steps out of the car, balancing the large bouquet in her arms. I start to get out to help her, but she waves me off with a look that tells me she doesn’t want me coming to the door. “Thanks for helping today.”
“Anytime.” I nod toward the flowers. “Make sure those get to where they’re supposed to go.”
She smiles. “Oh, I will.”
“If I’m free next time you go to the retirement center, I’ll tag along again.”
Hazel grins. “Alright. Just don’t let Mr. Gideon mess with you.”
“I think he’s already got my number.” I may have given it to him before I left.
She laughs, waves, and disappears inside.