by Carol Ross
“Hazel.” He was a veritable one-word wonder here, wasn’t he? But he didn’t even know where to start with how wrong she was. Didn’t she know that if he could be just friends with her, he would? How all of this “weirdness” was his fault because he couldn’t stop wanting her? Didn’t she know how much it hurt just to look at her?
“Seriously, Cricket, I want to move on from all of this. I’m just really, really excited to be going home for the holidays this year. I have things to figure out, and I...” Eyes shining brightly, she added, “A happy Christmas is all I want right now.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE COZY CARIBOU exemplified everything Hazel adored about small towns. The downtown restaurant was the place to gather in Rankins, to celebrate, mourn, commiserate, gossip or just plain old-fashioned chat about nothing. Fresh, home-cooked deliciousness was their hallmark, along with plenty of hot, strong coffee. Or, if you wanted something stronger, you could detour to the bar that made up the other half of the establishment.
The rustic decor was always homey and inviting, but the Cozy Caribou was extra special at Christmastime. A true holiday haven. Twinkle lights crisscrossed the high, open-beamed ceiling, where sparkly ornaments and glittery snowflakes hung from varying lengths of translucent string. Inside the door, opposite the register, there was a brightly decorated Christmas tree. Long lengths of evergreen garland accented the windows. A classic rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock” played softly in the background.
Making her way through the dining area, Hazel hummed along and let the magic sink into her. She found Iris, already seated in their favorite booth, a steaming teapot on the table before her.
“I cannot believe you are going to be here through Christmas,” Iris said, standing and delivering a huge hug. After spending an additional two days in Utah finishing her resort story, Hazel had arrived in Rankins the evening before to start her new job today, which she was going to do—right after breakfast.
Hazel settled across from her while Iris added, “I am ecstatic, which means Mom is going to flip. Have you told her yet?”
“I told her last night. She’s already making plans and signing me up for her volunteer thing.”
“No one is safe from Operation Happy Christmas,” Iris quipped. “The name of the charity is also her mantra.”
“I always thought when we got older that she would ease up a bit on the holiday enthusiasm.”
“Ha.” Iris lifted the pot and poured some liquid into each mug before sliding one across the table. “If anything, not having us all around just gives Mom more opportunity to spread her Christmas cheer farther and wider. Not to mention she has grandkids now. Did she tell you she has a surprise announcement to make at brunch on Sunday?”
“She did.”
“I can only imagine what she has in store.”
“You know what? I don’t even care. I’m just happy to be home this year. I am a willing participant in Operation Happy Christmas, Mom’s and my own. Starting now, I’m making that my mantra, too.” The time was going to go too fast, and she needed to enjoy every second and... Eww. What was that smell?
Tipping her head down, she took a whiff of the cup. “What is this?”
“It’s tea.” Iris patted her belly. “We are drinking this herbal mix that Ally gave me.” Ally was Tag’s wife, a paramedic with a vast knowledge of natural healing methods.
“Are we, now?” Hazel repeated before bravely taking a sip and shaking her head. “Nope, we are not.” She pushed the mug away with an exaggerated shudder. “That is disgusting.”
“It’s good for the baby,” Iris countered but couldn’t squelch her chuckle.
“I don’t see how that could possibly be true,” she joked and flagged down a waitress. To Iris, she said, “In case you hadn’t noticed, you and I are no longer in vitro. In other words, your tea is not my tea. But I am here for you in almost every other way, and in order to give you my full support, I am going to need coffee.”
“So, do you know where you’ll be heading after Christmas?”
“Not sure yet, but don’t worry, my schedule is pretty open. And March will stay that way. I’ll be back before you have the baby.” Iris and her husband, Flynn, had adopted Lily after her mother had died giving birth to her, and Iris, despite her brave face, was terrified of everything her own pregnancy entailed.
“That’s the detail I was after,” she cheerfully confessed.
“I know.”
“Hazel...” Iris’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t want to ask, but could you be with me? Like in the delivery room? Shay offered, which is very sweet of her, but you know what she’s like. I’m afraid she’ll just boss everyone around and make me more nervous.”
“That is a distinct possibility.” Shay’s type A intensity could be a bit overwhelming. Hazel reached across the table and took her sister’s hand. “I would be honored. As long as it’s okay with Flynn.”
“More than okay with him.” She directed a mega-watt smile filled with relief and love and gratitude at her. The waitress arrived with Hazel’s coffee, and they ordered.
“So, how are you feeling about your new job? Cricket didn’t even tell me they were going to ask you. I think I was as surprised as you were.”
“Good,” Hazel answered. Carefully unfolding her napkin, she thought about the question. “I haven’t seen their plans yet. They left the files for me at their office to take a look at, and then they’re meeting me there this afternoon to go over everything.”
This job thing had seemed like such a good plan in the moment, but now that the time was here, her stomach had worked itself into quite an intricate knot. She had tons of ideas for their tours, but what did she truly know about business?
But it was the Cricket factor that had her on edge. Hannah had informed her that there still wasn’t suitable snowpack in the mountains for JB Heli-Ski to operate. Since Cricket wasn’t flying, it was likely she’d be seeing him every day. She’d meant what she said about being over him, but how difficult was it going to be to make the declaration true? What exactly did it take to actively fall out of love with someone? Was there any science on that topic? Maybe she needed to read up on it.
Glancing at her sister, she realized Iris was eyeing her curiously. “Do you want me to get you a new napkin?”
“What?” Removing her hands from the tabletop, she folded them on her lap and willed herself to remain still.
Eyebrows arching high, Iris cast a deliberate gaze down at the curled, twisty strips of tissue now littering the table. “Yours is shredded. You’re all fidgety. I just can’t tell if it’s a good fidget or a bad fidget.”
“I’m a little nervous.”
“Is this about what happened with Cricket? Do you want to talk about that?”
Hazel’s stomach did a fast, hard flop. Iris knew? How had she found out? Truthfully, it was a miracle she’d been able to keep her feelings a secret from her sister all these years. But then again, she’d had a crush on Cricket for so long, and he’d always just been in their lives, so there was no time she could pinpoint where she’d fallen for him. It felt like it had always just...been.
The “incident” had coincided with her breakup with Derrick, and everyone had thought she was devastated over that. And she’d let them all believe it was true. Even Iris. So maybe it was a bit of guilt about that or the worry she’d just put her through in Utah. Or maybe—a thought that would only occur to her after the fact—she wanted to unburden her heart.
Regardless of the reason, she spilled the beans. “Um...well, I guess you could say it started my senior year during track season when Derrick and I were first having problems. But nothing happened until the following spring when I was home from college. But it’s over. Not that there was anything to it, except on my part. Although, Cricket... Never mind. That doesn’t matter. The point is, it’s taken me a long, loong time, obvi
ously, but I’m over him. Or, at least, I’m trying to be.”
Hazel hadn’t been looking directly at her sister as she poured out the details, so she wasn’t sure at precisely what point she’d turned into a wax figurine. Clearly, her assumption had been wrong.
Very, very wrong.
“Iris? Oh, no... You didn’t know. I thought you were telling me that you knew about us. Okay, um, please, forget everything I just said.”
A few very long seconds passed before she spoke, and Hazel could see her trying to process this bombshell.
“No. I was talking about your phone. Cricket said he thought you might have shut your phone off because you were upset with him, something about an argument you had in Florida. That seemed unlikely to me at the time, but...” With a shake of her head, she steered back to the point. “But, Hazel, the only way I could forget what you just said would require drugs I am not willing to take, repeated sessions of hypnosis or possibly even a lobotomy.” Quickly, almost furtively, she glanced left and right and then hissed, “You and Cricket? When we were in high school?”
“Maybe I should start at the beginning.”
“You have no idea how much I wish you would.”
The waitress arrived with their orders. And so, over fluffy omelets, crispy hash browns and flaky buttermilk biscuits, she told her sister everything.
“Do you remember how Derrick used to work for Cricket occasionally, helping with airplane maintenance and stuff?” At Iris’s nod, she went on, “Okay, well, one day, spring of our senior year, he was supposed to take me home after track practice. We’d had a fight, and Derrick didn’t show up. He was a jerk that way, bad temper.”
“That, I remember,” Iris said. “Never understood what you saw in him.”
“Me either. That day, I called Cricket looking for Derrick. He wasn’t there. No surprise, Cricket came and got me instead. I was upset. He took me out for a burger, and we talked. You know, differently than we ever had before?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Iris nodded patiently and drizzled hot sauce on her potatoes.
“So, um, a few days later, I made those oatmeal cookies that he likes and dropped them by his house—to thank him. After that, I started going to the hangar when I knew Derrick was working, and sometimes when I knew he wasn’t.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I started stopping by his house after practice. I know, I know... I knew what I was doing. I mean, I knew how I felt. I liked him so much, Iris. We talked about everything and nothing and laughed constantly, and he’s so interesting and made me feel interesting, you know? Nothing happened that could even be considered inappropriate, but there were these moments where it felt like we had a connection and... Anyway, that doesn’t matter. You and I left for college that summer.”
“That’s why you went home so often during our freshman year?”
“Yes,” she confessed. “I would go and see him... And then, Christmas break, Cricket told me about Derrick—that he’d been cheating on me with Kimberly Fitz.”
“That I also remember. What a weasel.”
“Totally. Understandably, I was upset. Not nearly as upset as I should have been. It was more anger and humiliation than heartbreak. Cricket was there to comfort me. He hugged me. And then...” Hazel closed her eyes and let the memory wash over her. It was burned into her brain because she’d never felt that way before. Or since. Like it was where she belonged.
Opening her eyes, she heaved out a sigh. Because she needed to find somewhere else to belong, didn’t she? “And then I kissed him and ruined everything.”
“Did he kiss you back?”
“Yes. In fact, at first, he was...enthusiastic. It was more like...”
“A make-out session?” Iris suggested, slathering jam on a biscuit.
“Yeah.”
“And that doesn’t tell you that he had feelings?”
“He’s a guy. Of course he had feelings. They just weren’t the same as mine.”
“Hmm,” Iris said, lowering the biscuit to the edge of her plate. “Except, he was, what, like twenty-nine at the time? He was no naive teenager. We’re talking about Cricket here.”
Hazel winced.
“I meant that he could always have a girlfriend if he wanted one. He just never does, not long-term, anyway. Sort of like—oh, I don’t know—you!” Iris said firmly. “What I’m saying is that he knew what he was doing.”
“Well, he didn’t want me.” Doesn’t want me, she reminded herself. Then she revealed the truly mortifying part of the story. “I told him I loved him. I told him...all sorts of embarrassing things. You should have seen him, Iris. I’ll never forget it. He looked sick, like physically ill. He told me it was a mistake. We shouldn’t have done it. I was Tag’s little sister. He broke a promise. We could never be together. He didn’t think of me like that, etcetera.” She brought one hand up to her forehead, where the heat of embarrassment burned even after all these years.
Scowling now, Iris leaned forward and asked, “What promise did he break?”
Hazel lifted one shoulder. “I assume he meant some silly promise to Tag about never dating one of his sisters.”
“Huh.” Iris paused for a few seconds, thinking. “Hazel, listen to me. Cricket would never have done that if he didn’t feel something for you. If you kissed him and he gently pushed you away and patted your head, then yes, I would tend to agree with what you’re saying. But that’s not what happened, is it?”
“No. But it doesn’t matter. Because that’s when everything changed. I was hurt and humiliated. I felt like such a fool. It ruined our friendship, and I started avoiding him. That was the worst part. I missed him so much. I missed our friendship.”
“This was when you stopped going home,” Iris stated with a deliberate nod like it all made perfect sense.
“Yeah, I spent the next semester in Germany, and then I started traveling. When I did see him, there was this uncomfortable tension between us. Like neither of us knew quite how to act. There would be moments when things seemed better. Good, even. We’d get closer, but then he would withdraw again, push me away. Sometimes we’d argue—mainly when I asked him how he felt about me. Then there were a few times, like in Florida, where things got out of control.”
“This is the Florida thing Cricket mentioned? As in this past spring, when you were there for Seth’s fishing show?”
“Yes.”
“What got out of control?”
“We had an argument.”
“About what?”
“It was stupid. And after a while, I don’t think either one of us knew. At some point, he’d overheard this guy ask me out for a drink, and he claimed the guy had a shady history with women.”
“Well, does he?”
“I don’t know! I wasn’t interested. But he said it like he was jealous. Or, at least, I wanted it to be jealousy. But I didn’t appreciate him acting like that. We started discussing that, which was intense and over-the-top for the situation. So, I asked him why he was so upset.”
“What did he say?”
“He said it was because he cared about me. He apologized, I apologized, and the next thing you know, we were hugging and... And I know he wanted to kiss me. Or, at least in the moment, I believed it.”
Iris grinned. “And then?”
“He didn’t. I asked him how, in what way did he care? I said I needed to know once and for all. I needed to hear him say he wasn’t attracted to me so I could move on.”
“So what did he say?”
Tears pooled in her eyes. Blinking them away, she pressed on, “He said, ‘Do you really think it will help, Hazel, if I say any of the things you think you want to hear? That it will make this easier if I’m honest with you?’ Then he turned around and walked away.”
“Okay, so you believe that...that cryptic non-answer means that he doesn’t have feeli
ngs for you?”
“Yes. It meant that he didn’t want to hurt me again, by telling me the truth. Chemistry isn’t feelings—not the kind I’m after, anyway, and he didn’t want to point that out.”
“Oh, good grief.” Iris placed both hands on her head and gave her hair a quick frustrated tug. “Where are you getting this stuff?”
“What do you mean?”
“Hazel, Cricket does not offer me unsolicited romantic advice or get in my business in any way. Ever. Never has. Now that I think about it, he does sort of hover where you’re concerned, doesn’t he? He talks about you a lot, too. Comments on where you are and what you’re doing. And why did he insist on flying to Utah? Tag offered, but he was so insistent, no one questioned it. Not even me.”
“I know he cares about me.” She rolled her eyes. “Like a little sister. He reminds me of that all the time.”
Iris tipped her head back as if analyzing the glittering snowflake suspended above them. Then she met Hazel’s gaze again with a deliberate look. “He doesn’t do that to me either. He made a point of saying that about you, though, in Utah. He said Hazel is like a little sister to me. He wasn’t compelled to say that about me, was he? When normally, everyone lumps us together.”
This was true. As triplets, they were regularly referred to as exactly that, “the triplets” or “the trips,” and Hazel and Iris were often Hazel-and-Iris, like it was one word, or simply “the girls.”
“I wonder who he’s trying to convince,” she added quietly. “He’s obviously attracted to you.”
“But so what? He’s right about that part. What would it solve by admitting it?”
“It’s what it would complicate. That’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“You really don’t see this, do you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Relationships are not exactly my area of expertise.”
“Yes, you and your list. Maybe you should have spent more time having relationships instead of trying so hard to avoid them,” Iris attempted to joke. “And then we’d have more to work with here.”
