by Tabatha Kiss
The doorbell rings. I shift off the bed and throw on a shirt and jeans before heading downstairs.
I open the door to find Bobby standing on my porch holding two six-packs of beer, his eyes obscured with thick, black sunglasses. Pearl hovers behind him with her watchful, unblinking gaze from her usual spot by the stairs.
“So…” he says, sliding his sunglasses off, “when you agreed to no strippers yesterday, was that real or like a wink-wink nudge-nudge kind of thing?”
I step back, keeping the door open. “No strippers, Bobby,” I say.
“God, fine. I was just testing you.” He follows me inside with Pearl on his heels. “You know, like a good best man should.”
I whistle. “Pearl, come on.”
She relaxes and abandons him in favor of rushing toward her food bowl.
“Overprotective mutt,” Bobby says, playfully. “You’ve only known me for like… five years. Give me a break.”
I laugh. “So, what brings you out here so early?”
He sets the beer down on my counter. “Just finishing up some work at the office,” he says. “Found a stack of papers you forgot to sign.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m just messing with you.” He smirks. “Like a good best man should.”
I sigh as I scoop some food into Pearl’s bowl.
“Man, you really miss her, don’t you?” he asks. “Your sense of humor’s gone to shit.”
“I’m just a little... tense, that’s all.”
“I can imagine.”
He slides a can toward me and takes one for himself.
“Bob, it’s ten in the morning,” I point out.
“So?” He flicks his open. “It’s your last day as a free man. I think that vindicates a little day-drinking. Also, this is the first day of the first vacation the two of us have taken in like a million years, so yeah…” He raises his can. “Cheers.”
I exhale, following his lead. “Cheers.”
We both take a few chugs. It feels heavy on my empty stomach, so I turn to the fridge to grab some lunch meat and bread.
Bobby clears his throat. “So, one day away,” he says.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Am I sure?”
“Are you sure?” he repeats, staring harder at me.
I nod again. “Yes, I’m sure. I love Hazel. I love our life. I want it to stay like this forever.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll ask again in the morning.”
“Don’t bother, Bob,” I say, fixing a few sandwiches. “You already have my answer.”
“I wouldn’t be a good best man if I didn’t ask. I mean, hell, I’d expect you to grill me if the roles were reversed.”
I laugh. “Now, that I can’t imagine.”
“Me neither.” He shivers. “I’m never getting married, man.”
“Never say never.”
“Never,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong, though. One of these days, I’m going to meet my dream girl.”
“Oh, yeah?” I humor him.
“Hell yeah. She’s going to be tall and hot as fuck and witty and smart — but not too smart. Black hair, brown eyes, and, as the song goes... the girl just wants to have fun.”
I raise a brow. “You’ve rehearsed this.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Well,” I extend my can toward his and he taps them together, “I wish you luck with that.”
My phone rings in my pocket. I reach for it, hoping to get a little bit of Hazel in my morning.
Bobby points at me. “No girls allowed!”
I turn it over in my hand to get a good look at the screen. “It’s just Claudia.”
“Claudia’s a girl.”
I swipe the screen to answer it. “Hey, Claud. What’s up?”
“Is Hazel with you?” she asks.
“No, I thought she was spending the day with you.”
“Me, too, but I pounded on her door for about ten minutes. She’s not there. She’s not with you?”
“No,” I answer again, growing curious.
There’s a short pause. “Uh-oh,” she mutters.
“Why uh-oh?” I ask. “She probably just went shopping or something. She’ll be back.”
“Yeah... I thought that, too. So, I asked the front desk if they’d seen her and they told me she checked out.”
I pause. “Checked out?”
“Yeah.”
“Of the hotel?”
“That’s what that usually means, yes.”
“Hazel checked out of the hotel?” I ask. “She still has another night booked.”
“Right. But she’s not here. And she’s not with you. And it’s the day before her wedding, so...”
I frown. “Uh-oh.”
“Head of the class, big brother.”
I force myself to take a deep breath. This doesn’t mean anything. There are many other reasons why Hazel would check out of her room and once my heart stops pounding in my ears, I’m sure I’ll come up with one or two pretty good ones before the panic sets in.
“Thanks, Claudia,” I say before hanging up.
Bobby leans forward as he flicks open his second beer. “What’s up?” he asks.
I don’t answer. Instead, I swipe over to my contact book to call Hazel.
“Hey, you’ve reached Hazel. Leave me a message.”
I hang up and dial again.
“Hey, you’ve reached Hazel—”
I hang up and dial again.
Bobby furrows his brow. “Should I be doing something helpful right now?”
I look at him as Hazel’s message plays in my ear again. “Hazel’s gone,” I say.
“I gathered,” he says with a nod. “Where do we start looking?”
I open my mouth to speak but stop as my phone gently vibrates with a new text message.
I’m sorry.
It’s from Hazel.
I reply back quickly.
Answer the phone.
I dial again but it just rings and rings.
“Goddammit, Hazel...” I murmur.
I send out a flurry of new texts, some full of nonsensical typos, begging for her to talk to me.
Finally, she sends one back.
I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.
I collapse into the nearest chair at the table and stare at my phone until the words become unrecognizable.
I can’t marry you?
“Leo...” Bobby says slowly. “You okay?”
I shake my head once. “She’s calling off the wedding.”
He exhales. “We’re gonna need more beer. I’ll be back in ten.”
I feel his hand on my shoulder, tapping twice, as he gets up and walks toward the front door.
I don’t understand. Last night, she was fine. She was my Hazel. Bright and happy Hazel, ready and willing to take on the world with me. What happened?
I flinch. What the hell was in the box?
I get up and grab my keys.
Bobby turns around as I slam the front door behind me and march to my truck. “Where are you going?” he asks.
“To talk to my wife.”
“Obvious semantics aside... do you know where she is?”
I pull open the door to my truck. “Only one place she can go.”
“Okay…” he says. “I’ll just… hang out here. With the dog.”
“Thanks, Bob.”
He stares on in confusion but he says nothing more as he backs out of the way.
I race down the driveway, pushing the gas pedal hard.
Hazel Smith of Spokane, Washington.
I can’t marry you?
We’ll see about that.
Five
Hazel
I stare up at the ceiling of my old bedroom. It’s been so long since I’ve been back and, honestly, I never thought I ever would be here again.
I was so sure Leo was it for me. How did I never stop and wonder why it was so easy? We met. We fought. We connected
. I fell in love at the drop of a hat, completely fueled by this romanticized notion of fate. But I thought, well, it happened to my parents.
Why not me, too?
But I never saw the whole story. I only saw what was on the surface of their apparently perfect relationship.
Scratch the surface of me and Leo and what darkness will you eventually find?
A soft knocking taps on my door.
“Hazel?”
I breathe out. “Yeah, Nana?” I ask.
The knob twists and my grandmother pokes her head inside.
“Do you need anything, honey?” she asks, her eyes filled with sympathy.
“No,” I answer. “Not since you asked me ten minutes ago.”
She pushes the door open the rest of the way and walks into my room.
“Nana, really...” I wave a hand, feeling tears building in my eyes. “I just want to be left alone right now.”
“And I want to be packing a bag for my granddaughter’s wedding but we can’t always get what we want,” she says, sitting down on the end of my bed. “So, what’d he do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then, what did you do?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Nothing.”
“Then, why the cold feet?”
“This isn’t cold feet, Nana,” I say, sitting up. “I just don’t see how I can marry him after...”
I taper off. I’m not sure how much my grandmother knows about. If she doesn’t know, then I don’t want to be the one to tell her about my mother’s affair.
“After what?” she asks.
I sigh. “Nana, did my parents ever fight?”
“Oh, Lordy,” she murmurs. “Constantly.”
“Really?”
“Never in front of you, of course,” she says. “Or me, for that matter. Mostly just over little things and she’d vent to me if she ever felt the need.” She squints. “Why? Did you and Leo get in a fight?”
I shake my head. “No.”
I think of the first day I met Leo. Practically shouting back and forth on his porch. That all changed the day he showed up with that tree trunk. After that, all fighting was playful and fun. Never malicious or from annoyance. We were the perfect fit, I thought.
My mother thought she and my father were the perfect fit, too. They drifted apart. Why didn’t they break it off when they had the chance? Did they stay together because of me? How long until Leo starts looking elsewhere? How long before I do?
I collapse down on the pillow and close my eyes.
“You’ve just got cold feet, honey,” she says. “I did before I got married, too.”
I chuckle. “Which time?”
“Every time.” She nudges my knee. “Get up and eat some chocolate. You’ll feel better.”
I lie still as she stands up and makes her way back into the hallway.
A hard pounding strikes the front door.
I shoot up on the bed, jerked into action by the start of my pulse. My grandmother stops and stares down the hallway at the door.
“Hazel!”
My jaw drops. “Leo?”
I slide off the bed and stand next to Nana as the pounding continues. She nudges my arm and gives me a gentle push in his direction.
“Hazel, please open the door,” Leo shouts.
I wince at the sudden pinch on my arm. “Ouch!” I rub it, staring daggers at my grandmother’s claw-like fingernails.
“Go to him,” she urges. “Don’t be such a wuss.”
I scoff and walk toward the door. The knocking ceases as I turn the lock and I plant my foot a few inches in front of the door to keep it from swinging freely.
I open it an inch and peek out at Leo’s concerned face. “Leo—”
“What are you doing here?” he asks quickly.
“I can’t marry you,” I say, my voice low.
“Why not?” He lays a hand on the door, pushing slightly, but I keep my foot in place. “Come on, Hazel. What did I do?”
“Nothing...”
“Then, what happened?” he asks. “What was in that box?”
I glance over my shoulder. My grandmother has kept her distance, still lingering back in the hallway.
I sigh and take a quick step out onto the porch. Leo’s face shows a bit of relief but I keep one hand clinging to the doorknob behind me as I close it.
“Leo, I’m sorry—”
“You’ve said that already,” he says. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
I look down at his black shoes and blue jeans. It’s what he always wears. The flannel changes. Today, it’s red. Tomorrow, who knows?
“She cheated,” I say.
He blinks. “Who?”
“My mother. She had an affair when I was five.”
He shifts an inch closer but stops as I lean away. “How do you know that?” he asks.
“Her diary,” I answer. “Found another one in that box. Guess she was hiding it in a different place. Pretty easy to see why...”
“You didn’t know?”
“No. Not really sure my father ever knew, either. Didn’t read that far.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “But... I’m struggling to see how you went from my mother had an affair to I’m calling off my wedding. Just seems like a major leap.”
I keep my head down. “We met on Lover’s Trail, just like they did.”
“Haze…” His voice softens. “I think I know where you’re going with this now but we didn’t get hitched after a week of knowing each other.”
“I know.”
“And we didn’t get pregnant immediately,” he adds. “We didn’t rush into any of this at all. What happened to them isn’t going to happen to us.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask. “I mean, you read those diary entries, Leo. My mother was so sure she was with the man she would always be with.”
“Last I checked, they were still together in the end,” he points out. “Your mother made a mistake. People do that, but it didn’t break them.”
I breathe a little easier but my air still catches in my throat. “Would something like that break us?” I ask.
He sighs. “Hazel, look at me.”
I flex my jaw, feeling the tears creeping along my lashes. Finally, I turn my head up and he looks me in the eyes.
“You don’t know what really happened back then,” he says. “I don’t know what really happened back then and, to be quite honest, I don’t really care.”
My brow twitches. “You don’t care?”
“No, I don’t. I care about you. I care about your thoughts and your feelings, but I surely don’t give a rat’s ass about what two impulsive kids did over two decades ago. It happened, they obviously got past it, and there’s no reason why you need to dwell on it right now.” He scoffs. “Honestly, what did they expect? They got married after a week of knowing each other. I’m more surprised it took five years before one of them caved.”
“Caved?” I repeat. “So, what, you don’t believe in true love?”
“I believe love takes work,” he answers. “I believe it takes a little more than coincidence and happenstance to form a relationship with someone. No, what I don’t believe is that I had to track you down across state lines and drag you back to the altar the day before our damn wedding.” He points a stern finger. “So, now… go say goodbye to Nana and get in the truck.”
I cross my arms. “No.”
“No?”
“No. You had me at it didn’t break them,” I say. “That was sweet. And thoughtful. It really put things into perspective for me.”
He raises a brow. “Okay…”
“Then, you lost me when you tried to boss me around.” I lean forward. “Equal partners. Remember? You are not my boss.”
“Hazel, I swear to God—”
“I never let you push me around before.”
“Are you serious—”
“And I sure as hell wasn’t going to start just because I was your wife.”
/> “I’m asleep right now.” He closes his eyes. “This is my nightmare.”
I turn on my heel. “Goodbye, Leo.”
“Wait, Hazel—”
I slip out of his grip and slam the door closed behind me, shutting him outside. He pounds on the door again, drawing a harsh sigh of judgment from Nana sitting in her armchair across the room.
I flash an apologetic look in her direction.
“Hazel!”
I push onto the tips of my toes to peek out the thin, vertical windows in the door. “Go home, Leo!”
He pushes in close and his breath briefly fogs the glass. “Not without you!”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. Wouldn’t want to leave without your trophy, right?!”
His face screws up. “When have I ever treated you like a trophy?”
“Dammit,” I whisper, biting my lip. He’s got me there but the anger in my chest hasn’t let me go yet. “You know how much my parents meant to me,” I say to him. “I dropped my entire life to go to Whitefish, to follow in their footsteps and find myself, and you don’t care?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t care about that,” he argues. “Obviously, I care about that. You found yourself all over my living room rug.”
“So, you only care if it affects you. Is that it?”
He slams his forehead against the door and growls. “You are such a…”
I squint. “Such a what?”
“A brat!” he says. “Spoiled, rotten—”
“I’d rather be a brat than an egotistical, selfish jerk!”
“So, this is it, then? You want me to throw away the most important piece of my life over something you read in a diary… again?!”
“I want you to get the hell off my grandmother’s porch!”
He stands back and digs his hands into his hips. “Are we getting married tomorrow?” he asks. “Yes or no?”
“No!” I answer.
“Fine!”
Leo spins around and stomps off the porch toward his truck.
I collapse my back against the door, pausing to let the shock radiate in my system. Adrenaline pulses through my veins, making everything quiver. My knees threaten to knock me over and I’m about ready to let them.
