Chapter Nine
Hazel
Why am I so nervous? It’s not like I’ve never had a serious conversation with my sister over dinner, but tonight’s different.
My worries about kids and my ability to be a mother, let alone a stepmother, haven’t gone away. They’ve been lingering in my mind, popping up to the surface at the most inconvenient times.
Grant’s started to notice too. Since soccer season is over, we decided to take Harrison to the zoo.
We’re trying to be more intentional about the time we spend together, and it was a lot of fun spending time with just the three of us.
Grant and I strolled hand-in-hand with an excited Harrison rushing ahead of us.
So much of that day was everything I dreamed it’d be.
Except when Harrison fell face-first toward the concrete.
Luckily, he caught himself, managing to scrape his palms and not his whole face.
I just stood there as the poor kid cried, not knowing if I should comfort him or leave him alone.
Grant was there, calm and prepared, and cleaned the cuts before putting on a cartoon band-aide.
Harrison was back to normal five minutes later.
But I wasn’t.
A normal person would’ve clucked and hovered over him to make sure he was okay. Not watching silently over his dad’s shoulder gnawing her lip unsure of what to do.
Once we were back on the path to the hippos, Grant offered his hand again and I reluctantly took it.
I could see the confusion in the tightness of his eyes, but he didn’t say anything.
As if he could sense something was off, he simply rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand offering his support.
He makes it so easy to love him.
Which is why I should be an adult and bring this up to him. But instead, I’m cowering out of fear.
If I can’t be what Grant wants, will I lose him?
It’s that fear simmering underneath my skin.
Candice has been eyeing me the whole time we waited for our table and now that we’re seated, I feel like I’m being interrogated by the FBI complete with the pendant lights shining right on me.
The way she squints her eyes at me across the table has me quivering in my seat like a scorned child and I haven’t even done anything yet. “So Grant, huh?”
After being so intimidated by her, the question makes me snort out a laugh. “Are you upset?”
“Upset? Are you kidding me? I’m downright proud. I’ve just been waiting for you to finally fess up. Now, tell me everything.”
My stomach erupts into butterflies as I tell my sister everything starting from the very beginning.
All the nerves I had going into this evening fade away the more I talk.
Hearing her gasp and squeal like a teenager as I recount how Grant and I got together, I’m reminded of how lucky I am to have a sister like her.
Not every girl has this close of a friendship with their sibling, let alone their older sister.
We managed to fight our way through childhood, build an understanding through our teenage years, and foster a close friendship into adulthood.
“So why did you keep it a secret?” she asks as she takes a bite of salmon.
I sigh into my plate. “I don’t know. Maybe I thought if I told someone about it, it wouldn’t happen. That it would turn out how every other date has. For all I knew, it would be a repeat of Randy.”
Candice nearly chokes on her water. “Oh my gosh, I forgot about Randy!”
“I wish I could forget!” I laugh. “I have you to thank for that one.” Randy was one of her infamous set-ups.
He was a friend of a friend who lived forty-five minutes away in the small town of Rose Prairie.
We talked on the phone a few times and I was excited to meet him.
Drove to a cute little diner only to find out that Randy was already married.
Candice’s match-making services were revoked on the spot.
“But seriously, things are good, right?” She asks when our laughter dies down. “You’re in love with him. He’s in love with you. It’s easy to see how much you care for each other. It’s written all over your faces when you’re together.”
I’m not sure how to answer her question. It’s not a simple yes or no. Yes, we love each other. Yes, we care very deeply for one another. Yes, things are good. But there’s still a but.
Her expression turns serious at my quiet contemplation, concern painted across her face. “Things aren’t good?”
If there’s any person other than Grant to talk my feelings through with, it would be my sister. She’s done all of it: dating, marriage, and parenthood. So why is it so hard to say the words?
“Grant’s great. Amazing. He’s the guy I’ve always wanted…”
“But?”
“But,” I suck in a large breath holding it for a second before exhaling the words in a rush, “What if I’m not everything he wants?”
Candice softens, smiling at me. It’s not meant to chastise but to empathize. “Hazel.”
“I know,” I mutter through a throat thick with emotion. A headache starts to form from the effort to hold back tears. The middle of a crowded restaurant is not the place to have an emotional breakdown.
“Has he said anything to make you think that?”
My answer is quick. “No. Never. Grant’s in. A hundred percent. There’s nothing about him that I question. It’s me that’s the problem.”
“Okay,” she says, placing her fork down. “Help me understand. You love him. You’re secure in your relationship with him.” I nod. “He’s not making you doubt anything, but you’re doubting yourself?” I nod again. “Don’t take this the wrong way Hazel, but what could you possibly doubt yourself about?”
God this feels like a therapy session. But bottling up these thoughts and feelings isn’t doing me any good. If anything, it’s putting my relationship in jeopardy. “I just don’t know if I can do it.”
“Do what?”
“Be a mom.”
There it is. The words I’ve kept hidden and tucked away are out in the open.
Candice’s eyes widen as the realization hits. Whatever it was she thought I was going to say, clearly, this wasn’t anywhere near what she was thinking. She blinks slowly. “Wow.”
An invisible weight has been lifted off my chest at my admission, but that doesn’t make the words any easier. “Yeah.”
With impeccable timing, the waitress comes by to check on us. I’ve been pushing the food around my plate and when she offers to take it, I don’t hesitate.
“You know,” Candice chimes in before our waitress leaves, “I’m thinking we need some chocolate. Split a lava cake with me?” She doesn’t even wait for my answer before placing the order.
“You in desperate need of chocolate?” I force a laugh trying to ease the tension. Dessert at a restaurant is normally a special occasion situation.
“Oh this isn’t a ‘me’ thing, it’s a ‘we’ thing. We need gooey chocolatey deliciousness.” I won’t argue with her on that. She takes a long drink of water. “I’m ready to listen when you’re ready to talk.”
She isn’t going to let this go, and if I were her, I wouldn’t either. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not elaborate.
“I don’t know, Candice. What if I wasn’t supposed to be a mom?
What if I was always only supposed to be the fun aunt who has responsibility for a short time frame?
Be the fun aunt, load ‘em up with chocolate and caffeine before sending them home to their parents. I don’t know the first thing about raising a kid, or taking care of one, let alone how to keep one alive. ”
“First, next time you watch Mason we’ll make it a sleepover so you have to deal with the ramifications of your sugar-doping actions.
” A genuine laugh bubbles up my throat. “Second, not for one second do I think that you were only meant to be a fun aunt. You are a fun aunt, but you are so much more than that. You know how to raise a kid because you already help with Mason. You teach him just as much about how to be a good human being as Tony and I do. Keeping a kid alive is a whole other thing,” she shakes her head.
“But Hazel, I think you’d be a great mom. ”
How is she able to flip everything upside down? Everything that I’ve been telling myself for weeks, she blows right through in seconds.
I shake my head. “It still doesn’t change how I feel.”
The waitress places the dessert in the middle of the table and my mouth waters. Chocolate cake topped with ice cream dribbling down the sides covered in hot fudge. Yum.
Candice scoops out a mouthful of cake. “How does Grant feel about all this?”
I laugh ironically picking up my spoon, stabbing the cake and watching the chocolate ooze out. “I haven’t told him.”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead. “Hazel,” she scorns. “How have you not told him about this?”
“What’s he supposed to say? It’s not like he can change anything. He’s a dad and that’s never going to change.”
Candice thinks around a bite of cake. “How do you know what he’s going to say if you haven’t told him? Has he said anything to make you doubt that you wouldn’t be a good mother?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then what is it? Why are you putting all this stress on yourself?”
The question is simple but the answer isn’t.
“What if I mess up? What if I do or say the wrong thing? I don’t know how to be a mom.”
Candice forces laughter. “I hate to break it to you, but no one knows how to be a mom. Most of the time, you make it up as you go and hope you don’t screw the kid up in the process.
” She shoves a dollop of ice cream in her mouth.
“You probably will screw up at some point. But, then again, that’s also the beauty of motherhood.
It’s joy, heartache, pain, mistakes, forgiveness, growth, love—so much love,” she smiles.
“I’m not saying it’ll be easy or that it’s for everyone, but no one’s asking you to be perfect. ”
I know what she’s saying is true, but still doubt lingers. “How do you handle it all?”
She laughs like I’ve told the funniest joke she’s ever heard. “I don’t. I’m not even close to perfect. Tony would be more than happy to share all my shortcomings,” she snorts. “Talk to Grant. Let him know what you’re feeling. Maybe it’ll ease all this worry.”
Just talking with Candice has helped take off some of the heaviness I feel. But she’s right. The only person who can help with this is Grant, but it’s a conversation I’m scared of.
“Are you going to eat the whole thing or are you going to save some for me?” Candice has been shoveling cake, fudge, and ice cream into her mouth only taking a breath to help ease my concern.
“Fine,” she says around a mouthful, “I’ll let you have the last bite.” But she doesn’t stop dipping her spoon in for another mouthful. “But you’re going to feel bad when I tell you my secret.”
“What secret?”