Chapter 10
Hazel
“Is anyone having dessert?”
I look from Lucy to Erika, who both shake their heads.
“I need to get back to work.” Erika takes her last bite of sandwich and starts on the rest of her French fries. “Don’t let me stop you, though.”
“I’m making cheesecake tonight for Sunday’s family dinner,” Lucy says. “And you know how baking days go.”
I don’t, since I can’t say I’ve ever baked cheesecake. But I take my best guess. “You graze as you work?”
“You know it.” Lucy laughs. “Gotta taste test all the ingredients, right?”
“I’m excited you’re hosting,” Erika tells me. “I can’t wait to meet Squash. She sounds adorable.”
“She’s the sweetest,” I agree. “Smart, too. The video tutorial for my new robotic litterbox said most cats take weeks to figure it out. Squash mastered it the first day.”
Erika chuckles. “You sound like a proud mama.”
I feel myself blanch and cover it fast by forking a big bite of salad into my mouth.
“Where did you buy the robotic litterbox?” Lucy asks. “I’ve been meaning to get one for Clawdia.”
“Oh, um.” I really can’t lie. “Luke Lovelin—you guys know him, right?”
They both give me duh looks. “Of course,” Lucy says. “Remember? We ran into the two of you at the clinic in Salem.”
“Right.” I feel Erika staring holes into the side of my head. I might not have mentioned that. She might be my closest friend, but she’s also engaged to my cousin. That makes her family, so I haven’t been ready to share.
Such a tangled web. Thank God I only have two days until family dinner, when I’m planning to make my announcement. I’ve been writing a script and rehearsing. I only get one chance to do this, and I’m desperate to have it go right.
But for now, I’m stuck being vague. “Luke found a used robot cat box somewhere near Sheridan. The electronic parts weren’t working, but he fixed it up and brought it over.”
He also oiled all the hinges on my doors so squeaks won’t wake napping babies. And rewired a light switch to easily turn on the red lamp for nighttime feeding. And—
“That’s sweet,” Lucy says.
“Very generous,” Erika adds. “Those robot litterbox things are expensive.”
“So I’ve heard.” But Luke wouldn’t hear of letting me pay him for it.
“I read about toxoplasmosis and pregnancy,” he said when he showed up with the cat box. “I don’t want you touching any cat litter. If this needs to be emptied, you call me. Understand?”
Agreeing seemed easier than arguing, though I don’t love being bossed around.
Or maybe I don’t hate it that much. Letting someone look after me isn’t the worst thing. I just wish he’d let me do it for him.
Erika snatches a crouton from my plate, jarring me back to the moment. “It’s great to see you and Luke becoming friends.” Her probing gaze says she has her suspicions. “He’s funny. And hot.”
“Is he?” It’s absurd to pretend I don’t notice. “Well, he’s a nice guy.”
“My brothers adore him.” Lucy places what’s left of her turkey sandwich into a takeout box.
“How’s your dad doing, by the way?” As soon as she says it, she gasps.
“Holy awkward transition. I swear I didn’t say that because they’ve both been in prison.
I was thinking of Sheridan and that drive to the valley and—”
“It’s okay.” I may as well tell them. “Dad actually may not be incarcerated at the federal penitentiary much longer.”
“Really?” Erika wipes her hands on a napkin. “How come?”
“I’ve had lawyers working on getting him transferred to a minimum-security prison camp.” Guilt gets the best of me, and I swivel to Lucy. “I’m sorry. I should have talked to you about it first.”
“Honey, you don’t need to run those decisions by me.” Her eyes are kind as she pats my hand. “My mother’s forgiven him. I won’t pretend the rest of us have, but we understand complicated family dynamics. You do what’s best for your branch of the family tree, Hazel.”
“Thanks.” I still feel like hell for not telling her sooner. “Could you maybe not say anything yet to the others? It might not happen at all. I haven’t even told my dad. It’s not a certainty, and there are tons of ways it could go wrong. No sense getting his hopes up.”
Or pissing off Luke.
I don’t say that part, but it’s true. I haven’t told Luke I’m pursuing a transfer. That I’m pouring my money into lawyers and appeals, the same way his co-defendant’s family did.
“It’s your business, Hazel.” Lucy squeezes my hand. “And we trust you to handle your business.”
“Thanks.” My purse starts to buzz, and I dab my mouth with a napkin. “I’m sorry, would you excuse me?” I dig out my phone and see it’s the call I’m expecting. “I’ve been trying to reach my mother. It’s hard to connect with the time difference.”
“Go.” Erika shoos me away. “We’ll take care of lunch.”
“Absolutely not.” I slap down a credit card and start for the door. “It’s my treat. You can return the card at family dinner.”
“Hazel—”
But I’m already out the door. It’s a good thing, too, since I’ve just escaped goodbye hugs. It’s getting harder to hide this burgeoning bump, especially in close contact with others. Guess there’s a plus side to being the family’s most hesitant hugger.
“Hi, Mom.” I duck under the awning, since it’s raining again. “Thanks for calling me back.”
“Hazel. I’m glad I caught you. Did you get the documents I sent over regarding the funding structure for the charity?”
“I did, thank you.” I can’t believe it’s all coming together. “It’s looking more and more like a family-based foster care center in Romania is our best option.”
“The data certainly points that direction, doesn’t it?”
“It feels like the right thing to do.” I still don’t have a clue how we’ll pull off a project this size. “I’ve got some feelers out to find on-the-ground contacts who specialize in this sort of thing. It’s a very niche skill set.”
“But such a good opportunity to help orphaned and abandoned children,” Mom says. “There are so many needy kids there.”
It’s the line about children that gets me. This feels like the right time to tell her.
I haven’t rehearsed, so the words just spill out.
“I’m pregnant, Mom. I’m just over twenty-five weeks along with twin girls and I’m a little bit terrified, but mostly thrilled.
The father is involved, but we’re not together romantically.
I’m excited, and I thought maybe you’d be happy for me, or at least curious.
” Pausing for breath, I press the phone tight to my ear. “You’re going to be a grandma.”
“Oh, Hazel.” Her tone isn’t happy or sad. It’s not disappointed or joyful.
It’s just…Mom.
When the silence stretches too long, I try probing. “How do you feel about that?”
I instantly know it’s the wrong question. We don’t discuss feelings, my mother and I.
“It’s a big undertaking,” she says slowly. “But I trust you’re prepared. You’ve got your financial ducks in a row? Trust funds and college savings plans—”
“I meant about motherhood.” Why do I say it? “I hoped you’d be excited about being a grandma. About watching your own daughter become a mom for the first time.”
She lets out a long, tired sigh. “I won’t pretend I’ve been a good mother.”
“Mom?” I feel myself holding my breath. It’s the closest we’ve come to having a heart-to-heart talk. “I’m sure you did the best you could, and I love you no matter what.”
“It’s so hard, Hazel. Being a mother? I don’t want you getting your hopes up that a love so profound won’t break your heart and leave you feeling simply horrible about yourself. It’s a danger-zone, dear. A one-way ticket to pain more profound than you can imagine.”
I’m gripping the phone so tightly my hand starts to ache. “I think I read that in one of the parenting books.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.” Swallowing hard, I tip my face up toward the sky. It’s still raining hard, but the blue and white awning keeps me dry. “I just wanted you to know.”
“Thank you for telling me.” She pauses. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Is the father of the children doing his part?”
“Yes.” I picture Luke’s face, and a little light leaks back into my heart. “He’s kind and caring and very supportive.”
“Good. That’s good.” Mom clears her throat. “You’ll keep me posted on your progress with the foster care center?”
“Of course.”
“And let me know if there’s more I can do in light of your…situation.”
“I will.”
We say our goodbyes, and I hang up the phone with a sense of relief and disappointment swirling like fog in my chest. So that’s that.
My mother knows now, so that’s one more thing ticked off my to-do list. Not a joyful announcement, but a practical task. I lean back on the building, praying nobody sees me standing alone on the sidewalk clutching my phone like a lifeline.
What did I expect?
For a few ragged breaths, I think about calling Luke.
I’m aching to tell someone what just happened.
Not just someone—Luke. The man who’d understand why I feel disappointed.
Who’d get that I knew in my heart my mother would have this response, but I still hoped for more from the woman who carried me in her own body for nine months.
Luke would understand how I’m feeling right now. I know he would.
But I’m not brave enough to let him in like that. To see the chinks in my armor, the ache in my soul.
So I stuff the phone back in my bag and walk to my car with my head held high, my ridiculous heart throbbing like a stubbed toe.
“Can I help with anything, Hazel?”
I turn to see Lucy strolling into my kitchen with her kind, open smile. It’s making my panic tougher to swallow, which is fitting. Panic might be the only thing on the menu for family dinner.
“Everything’s great.” I shift so I’m hiding the disaster behind me. “Just checking the Crock-Pot.”
The Crock-Pot I forgot to plug in. I’ve just single-handedly ruined the first family dinner I’ve hosted.
Thank goodness my cousin doesn’t sense my distress.