Chapter 26Jack
Chapter 26
Jack
Keeping busy is my new priority.
It doesn’t really matter what I’m doing.
I can’t ride my dirt bike all day, so I’ve been mixing some work between bike laps on the dusty sandstone trails.
Right now, I’m in my truck with the windows down. I just finished a loop around the Slickrock Trail and loaded my bike into the back of my truck.
It’s a Saturday morning, probably why my new manager, Billy, is surprised I was willing to talk.
“Hey, Jack, I really appreciate the work you’ve put in so far,” he says. “It’s unusual for that restaurant to buy so much. We’ve had a lot of problems working with that owner in particular.”
“Eh, he wasn’t a bad dude. He likes sports. On Wednesday, we talked about the Knicks for a solid hour.”
Billy chuckles. “I like your style. And really, you’ve been going above and beyond. We’re lucky to have you. Look at this: you’re working on weekends and everything. This is dedication, man.”
“Well, it helps me, too.”
“The commissions add up, right?”
“Sure, that, and I like keeping my mind on the job.” It’s a heck of a lot better than thinking about Hazel Thorpe…
And how much I miss her.
Every day I put in with Buzzy Digital Marketing felt like torture after we broke things off.
I kept getting her emails and messages on Slack. Always formal, always about work. That email signature, with her full name in italics along the bottom, along with that fax number, hit me like a punch to the gut every time.
I kept thinking about how she giggled in the Yellow Coral bungalow when I teased her about having a fax machine.
And then I’d think about the kisses that followed.
How sweet she tasted, and how good she felt in my arms.
I’d think about her pretty face, bathed in that warm, golden morning light. Her wavy hair, and how soft it was under my fingertips when I brushed it off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
I’d relive moments before then, too. It was like a movie kept playing in my head: The first day, when we locked eyes in the lobby. Then, later, our first conversation in the hot tub… her nervousness, her innocence, how she opened up to me.
That second night at the Tiki Grille, when her lips were painted cherry red, and she wore that pretty black dress.
Each time I had to check in with her about a work-related task, I pictured that time she fainted in the hot tub, and I had to catch her and hold her and lower her to the ground…
That moment when I caught her felt so good.
I was saving her from getting injured; she was on her way to the metal railing fast.
That’s what I wanted to do: Save her from harm.
I really did save her from harm that late afternoon in Hawaii. No doubt about it. She’d have had a bandage on her head if it wasn’t for the fact I was right there, arms out.
And then I tried to do it again when the legal mess came up. I wanted to save her from getting terminated, from trouble, from punishment, from reprimands, and from having that promotion because it seemed like what she wanted.
But what I really wished—and still wish—was that she wanted me .
She didn’t.
She didn’t want me.
She probably got home to New Hampshire and came to her senses—realized she was too good for a reckless, restless, unsophisticated dude who likes his motorcycle too much.
I’m not Hazel’s type. That was the problem.
She was ready to let it cool off.
I thought she’d reach out once she got the promotion and start it up again. All that stuff I said on the Skype call with the lawyer was pretend. I just wanted to make things easier for Hazel and spare her the burden of lying under such stressful circumstances.
Then, when I realized that she wouldn’t feel okay about going for the promotion if we were dating, I wanted to help her again. I thought if we kept the brakes on, she could go after the job with her whole heart.
But I really thought that once she got the gig, she’d make a move for me.
For us.
Then, it started to feel a lot like those lonely nights after Jess walked out. How I’d lie in bed listening for sounds at the door, thinking she’d return home at any moment.
It started to sink in: I’m doing it all over again.
Waiting on a woman .
I got all tangled up about what was happening with Hazel. I got it wrong.
I was kidding myself when I thought about love.
That’s not what Hazel wanted. Not what she saw.
So, I kept it professional. That seemed to be how she wanted to play it. Finally, though, I couldn’t stand it. All the formal, stuffy emails got to me—all the pretending that we didn’t know each other as well as we did.
Earlier this week, I quit.
And now, I’m trying to move on and trying to look forward, not back. A buddy here in Moab hooked me up with the restaurant equipment sales gig.
This new job should be helping. I’m trying to put my all into it. It’s fast-paced, with great benefits and bonuses. The products are high-end, well-crafted, and have lifetime warranties. They’re easy to move, and the commissions I’m getting are ridiculously high.
By the time Billy signs off, I’m already feeling restless.
I check on Nola. She peers back at me.
“Why’s it gotta be like this, you think? With me and women? I mess up, Nola. I really messed up with Hazel…”
I sigh and look around the parking lot. A handful of guys are getting their four-wheelers ready for an adventure, and a couple of moms and kids are gearing up for a mountain bike ride.
I’d go around the freaking track again if it weren’t for the fact my legs were acting up so badly. Sometimes, if I hit the activities too hard, the metal pins start to ache with protest.
I know I should take it easy, but staying still is hard.
“I miss her,” I say to Nola.
Nola places her paw on the console. She nudges it over to me, so it touches my arm.
“Thanks, girl.”
Now she lowers down so her chin’s on my arm, too.
“Wow, I’m getting the full treatment.” I pet the top of her head, then down her back. “I probably seem pretty pathetic, huh? Moping around about a woman I only was with for a week. But—man.”
I shake my head, thinking back. “It’s weird how fast and deep it went. I mean, almost instantly. There was something about being around her… I guess it’s one of those things. Hard to put into words.”
My chest aches when I think about seeing Hazel smiling at Lia. Hazel had so much love in her expression. Nurturing sweetness, just pouring out of her.
I’d never seen anything like it.
I remember standing in that hallway and that illogical thought—that I might be looking at the future mother of my children.
“She was just… unique. Nice, and thoughtful, and quiet until you got her talking. Then, she could go on and on about the silliest and weirdest stuff.”
Nola nudges her paw toward my arm. She gives a soft whine.
“Aw, thanks, girl.” I ruffle the fur on her head to thank her for her empathy. “She liked animals, too. She talked to them like I talk to you. Right out loud.”
When I think about the sea turtles, a thought hits me. It’s this weekend that they’re getting released into the ocean.
I waited for her to call. I waited and waited and waited.
The resort is having a ceremony.
I’ve been checking the resort’s website for weeks, getting peeks at the turtles I started caring about. One page of the website has live camera footage. It’s cool to see them nibbling lettuce, getting sun, and slipping into the dark water of the lagoon.
I lean back and straighten my aching leg to reach my phone in my pocket. Then, I pull up the resort website and tap the option to watch the lagoon’s live video feed.
I’ve done this so many times over the past few weeks. It’s an excellent way to spend a few minutes of the day.
Somehow, it’s helping me stay connected to Hawaii and the changes I went through there.
I arrived on the island one person and came home another.
It hurts that it didn’t work with Hazel. I might miss her every day for as long as I live.
I might always wonder, what if?
But—at least I’ll have memories of our time at the Hanu Resort.
I have to flip the truck’s sun visor to see my phone screen better. There’s the dark, murky green water, so full of algae.
A few guests wander past, wrapped in sarongs and shrouded in straw hats.
I can’t see the turtles. Neither one. Not Chester, not his mate.
Hopefully, I’ll catch sight of them before the big ceremony happens tomorrow. I’d like to see Chester Dude one more time before he’s freed into the ocean.
I’m about to click the live feed closed when the sight of a woman leaning on the rail stops me.
She’s slender, and she wears a floppy, black hat.
I can’t see her face, but her figure… and that sundress…
I think I recognize the delicate curve of her shoulder and how she lists over the railing like a bendy sapling.
But that doesn’t make sense.
Hazel’s not in Hawaii.
It’s more of my wishful thinking.
I’m seeing what I want to see because I’m stubborn and willful, and?—
Hold up.
Did she just pull a bag of carrots out of her purse?
Now, that’s a coincidence I can’t write off as my own distorted perception. During that whole week in Hawaii, Hazel was the only guest I saw who carried carrots in her purse.
She tosses a carrot out into the lagoon—overhand. It’s a wimpy toss, and that makes me laugh out loud.
I know that quirky overhand lob.
My heart’s doing a big flip in my chest. It feels fluttery, bursting with emotion just because I’m seeing her there.
What the heck is going on?
We were in Hawaii three weeks ago. It makes no sense for her to be there, at that railing, today.
Unless…
Unless she went back. For the ceremony.
And if she did that, it could mean she’s still hung up on our time there, too. Maybe Hawaii’s been haunting her like it’s been haunting me.
Maybe what I actually got wrong was her professional, formal tone in all those many emails after we ‘cooled it.’
There’s a chance things haven’t cooled off between me and Hazel at all.
It’s time for me to find out.
“How would you feel about a few days with Uncle Brett?” I ask Nola.
My dog picks up on everything. My emotions, my tone of voice, each crease and crinkle on my face. I know that right now, she feels the hope blossoming in my chest as much as I do.
She perks up to sitting, wags her tail, and barks.
I waste no time firing up the truck and calling the airline I used for my last flight. Hard to believe it was less than a month ago when I stepped off that plane. A helpful representative spends a good fifteen minutes figuring out a flight path I can take. I’ll have to hop over to L.A. this afternoon, then take a red eye from there.
Worth it.
I spot my brother’s house when I'm off the phone.
He’s in the front yard, weed-whacking a stand of tall bluegrass. At the sight of me, he turns off the machine and pulls his orange ear protection off his head to rest around his neck.
The yard smells of freshly mowed grass. A flowering tree near the driveway is bursting with blossoms.
Spring comes early in the desert.
“Yo,” he says as I hop out of the cab. “You go for a ride?”
I’d tell him all about my lap on the Slickrock trail if not for my current time crunch. I have to hit the road soon if I want to make it to the airport in time to catch the plane to L.A.
It feels like my heart is bursting through my chest.
What will Hazel say when I show up?
Will I even catch her there?
I want to see her in person—not talk to her on the phone or email or text her. I want to see her face to face so that nothing can come between her and me when I tell her how much I’ve missed her.
“Yeah, Slickrock,” I manage as I walk around to the passenger side. Nola leaps nimbly onto the dirt driveway, trots onto the freshly landscaped lawn, and pees.
“Can you watch Nola for a couple of days while I head out of town?” I ask.
Behind me, over at the house, I hear the front door bang closed. Happy squeals and giggles bubble up. “Nola Bean’s here!” Ophelia cries.
“Nola!” Jasmine seconds. “Where’d you come from, girl? Are you here for a visit?”
Brett turns to face his girls. “Yeah, she’ll be here with us while Uncle Jack’s in Hawaii.”
I wait until my brother’s looking at me before hitching my brow. “Hang on. How’d you know?”
He chuckles. “The girls are obsessed with checking the resort’s live feed. Half an hour ago, Jasmine saw Hazel show up by the lagoon. Corinne’s been texting you.”
I yank my phone out of my pocket.
Yep—there they are.
Four texts from Corinne. All with several exclamation marks.
“I was on the phone with the airline, didn’t see…”
“Well, it’s not like you needed our input. You figured it out on your own.” He claps me on the shoulder but then steps in and turns the gesture into a tight, brotherly hug. He slaps my back for good measure.
I’m grinning like an idiot when we part.
I can’t help it.
Thinking about seeing Hazel again and telling her how I really feel is making me into a happy, hopeful idiot.
Over on the lawn, Ophelia does a cartwheel in the grass. Then she scampers toward me with Nola on her heels.
Ophelia’s hug is as tight as her dad’s. Her skinny arms hold me fast and won’t let go. “We’ll take care of Nola Bean. Just don’t come back without telling Hazel that you love her.”
I peer at Brett. “You raising this kid to be a romantic or something?”
He shrugs. “What can I say? Corinne and I have been talking about your situation. Get out of here, Jackie. Go get Hazel.”