She felt energized to be a part of it all here at the market. She took a step into the moving crowd and began walking through the rows in a swiftly moving mass of people. Inertia kept her going and going through the market. Passing tent after tent. Table after table brimming with foods and colors and things.
Hazel felt present. Alive and independent and back in her body. There was a surprising lightness, a surprising sense of relief, without Eve or Silas. She hadn’t realized how heavy and viscous the air was in Silas’s house until this moment. How much it must have been pressing down on her. The air felt thinner here. Easier to breathe.
From the corner of her eye, Hazel spotted a two-seated stroller nestled in the corner of one of the tents. There was one precious light-haired little boy in each seat. They were both dressed in the same blue shorts and hunter green T-shirts, both speckled with crumbs and drool. Their thin blond hair both falling to the side in the same way. Their cheeks similarly pink and smooth. Their big eyes in the same position on their little heads. The corners of their little lips turned up in the same curvature.
Two little twins right in front of her. Little Griffin and little Trevor right in front of her.
Hazel felt her center soften and then a magnetic pull toward the little boys. Without directing them herself, Hazel’s legs began to move beneath her.
She crouched down in front of the stroller inches from the boys’ faces. They both began kicking their legs out and cooing in excitement. Those sounds softened her center even more. She felt a warmth around her heart.
Still crouched, Hazel looked straight into the eyes of the one on the left. Big and blue and glistening with a blank and gentle ease. Like Griffin. Like Trevor. The baby looked back at her. Straight in her eye. She saw the innocent ease in his existence. A calm optimism. A sweet and simple happiness.
She thought of the times at home lying on her bed, Griffin and Trevor curled up in front of her by her belly. Giggling and reaching their small hands out. The feeling of their soft palms on her lips. The gentle scratch of their little nails along her nose. Their little whimpers and outstretched arms when they wanted their pacifiers. The gentle suction on her fingertips when she placed the pacifiers into their mouths.
Hazel noticed a pacifier in the lap of one of the boys in front of her. And then she felt a tingle of longing in her fingertips. Hazel picked up the pacifier and placed it in the boy’s mouth. There was light tug on her fingers and he began sucking. It gave Hazel a warm chill, and then the longing in her fingertips moved to her arms and chest and heart. It moved into a longing for Griffin’s and Trevor’s bodies against her body. A baby’s body against her body again.
As automatically as her legs had started moving toward the stroller, her fingers started moving to the seat belt of the stroller. She unfastened the buckle and slid her hands behind the little boy’s back. His back was soft and warm.
Hazel stood up from her crouched position, lifted the boy and pressed his belly into her face. The smell was a little flowery with the faint acidity of old milk. She inhaled it deeply. She closed her eyes and thought of the boys. Of home. She ached for it.
And then she felt a hand on her shoulder, accompanied by a frantic shriek. “My baby!”
Hazel shook her head and relinquished the child as if her hands had been on a hot stove.
A sharp pain seared through Hazel’s head, and she closed her eyes to cope.
“What are you doing with my baby?” the woman yelled, her voice now shakier.
“I... I... I don’t know,” Hazel stuttered and took two wobbling steps backward.
“I... I...” Hazel stuttered some more, still backing away.
The woman had now picked the boy back up into her arms and pressed him against her chest. Tears were wobbling in her eyes now.
“They remind me of my brothers,” Hazel explained, her voice assured and earnest now. “How I miss them.”
She could see that the woman had tightened her arms around her child more thoroughly.
“I’m sorry,” Hazel said in the same earnest tone, tears now welling up in her own eyes, her feet still backing her away from the scene. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
The woman closed her eyes and kissed the top of the boy’s head.
Hazel turned away and lost herself in the rush of the crowd again, eager to get completely out of sight. He chest was rising and falling, her heartbeat quick and anxious. All of these things she didn’t know she felt were oozing out of her. She didn’t know what was happening inside her. What had caused her to pick that baby up. To frighten that mother like that. To shout at Eve and run from her.
Hazel’s chest rose and fell some more. And her heart skipped and skipped.
And then she caught a glimpse of the back of Silas’s head, his loose black curls swaying above his strong shoulders.
“Silas,” Hazel tried to yell, but it came out in a whisper.
The back of his flannel shirt billowed slightly behind him as his legs paced forward. They were picking up speed.
“Silas,” she said again, this time louder, but he still didn’t hear her. Hazel widened her stride and increased her pace, trying to at least maintain the guise of a walk. Her arms were swinging at her sides like a pendulum, thrusting her forward.
“Silas,” Hazel yelled again, this time certain her shout was in earshot.
She rocked onto her toes and started a light jog after him. As she rounded the side of his body and observed the profile of his face, Hazel could tell his attention was locked on a woman just a few feet ahead of him. She had deeply tanned skin and was wearing a flowing dress held up by two slim straps around her shoulders. Her arms were long and casual at her side, and the crisp white of the dress contrasted sharply with her skin. Her long honey-colored hair hung down her back and swayed and flecked with sunshine as she walked.
Silas was now within inches of the woman and reached out to touch her shoulder. Hazel stopped in her tracks so as not to disturb the moment.
“Torrey,” he said hopefully as the woman flinched and then whipped around in the direction of Silas’s hand. Her eyebrows were pressed up like two exclamation marks and her jaw and shoulders were tense.
And then Silas tensed up himself. His knees locked back and his shoulders crept up toward his ears. He pulled at the scruff on his chin and then nervously pulled at his curly hair.
“I’m, uh, sorry, miss.”
The woman stood there for another moment.
“I just thought you were someone else.” His voice had sunk into a garble.
“No worries,” the woman responded, a restored pep in her voice. And then she took off again.
Hazel walked toward Silas, who was raking his fingers through his hair.
“Who’s Torrey?” she asked.
Silas popped his head back up, a bit startled.
“Ah, just an old friend,” he said, attempting a cheery tone.
“Wait, isn’t that the same name I saw on the buckets in the garden?”
Silas looked stunned for a moment and then appeared to pretend he hadn’t heard her. He placed his palm into Hazel’s back and rubbed it around.
“How are you doing, kiddo?” He had stretched a smile across his face now and looked down at Hazel. She could sense a solemnity in his eyes. A longing.
They held eye contact for a brief instant, until Silas’s attention was diverted over Hazel’s shoulder.
“Ah, look. There’s Eve. Eve! Eve!” he shouted and waved his hands around.
Hazel turned around and saw Eve in the crowd. Her sunglasses were perched on top of her head in front of the wild mess of hair collected behind it. She walked over slowly and confidently, her hips rocking to one side and then the other.
Hazel’s tummy flipped as her mind raced back to what had just transpired with Eve. Her heart beat and clanked around b
ehind her ribs.
Would Eve talk to her? Look at her? Acknowledge her?
Eve planted her feet right next to Hazel. Without a millisecond of delay, she flipped another brown honey stick in front of Hazel’s nose.
“Bought ya another one!” she said, the words buoyant and upbeat.
Hazel looked at Eve skeptically but couldn’t hold back a smile.
“Seriously. Bought it with my own money. Well, his own money.” She stuck her thumb out in Silas’s direction.
Hazel snatched the honey stick from her hand, popped the top and brought the honey to her lips.
Eve winked and then brought her sunglasses in front of her eyes.
Eve turned her attention toward Silas.
“Can we get out of here or what, old man?” she said harshly.
“Oh, I’m an old man now, huh?” Silas retorted.
“Every dad is an old man!” she replied, not missing a beat.
Silas pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. “Well, I guess I am a dad. So I guess that makes me old.”
He looked at Eve and then at Hazel. Really looked at them. With a weight in his eyes. He pressed his lips together and nodded some more. As if he was assuring himself of a truth. A truth of his fatherhood. A truth of his daughters. These daughters. These two girls in front of him.
And then his eyes went vacant for an instant. And then he blinked.
“I’ll grab the truck. You guys wait here for a minute.”
Eve crossed her legs under her and dropped to the ground to sit.
“Can you believe our moms met Silas at this popsicle stand?” Eve rested her elbow on the inside of her knee, and her head in her palm.
Hazel looked back out at the market. She thought of her mother in this place, all those years ago. The sound of Silas’s horn blared and interrupted her from the thoughts.
30
Night fell and Silas prepared another dinner for the three of them using the meats and produce and cheese he’d got at the market.
Hazel pulled her chair underneath the table. The legs of the chair screeching against the floor created an unfamiliar echo in the room that made Hazel aware of the hollowness in the space. There was usually a cacophony in the background, pans slamming together and chatter between the girls to fill the air. But this evening, it was quieter.
“Dig in,” Silas said with feigned cheeriness. Now the sounds of forks and knives clacking against the plates made Hazel even more aware of the quiet.
Hazel thought about what to say to break the silence. She could feel her words start to rise but she would pore over each syllable in her mind until they sounded too lame to say aloud. So she returned her gaze to her plate and pressed her food around it.
The absence of words was so heavy in the air. The tension in the room only increased as everyone waited for someone else to say something. It was like being at home all over again. She desperately wanted it to go back to how it was when they’d first arrived.
A feeling crept up from deep within her that this whole thing was so stupid. That, of course, it wasn’t going to work. That, of course, these people wouldn’t like her. That, of course, there was no new family to be created. No new love in her future. But she wanted it, so bad. She needed it. So she pushed that feeling way, way down and willed it to turn itself around.
Hazel observed Eve’s every move as much as she could so that Hazel wouldn’t let herself be discovered. Hazel didn’t have to watch long to realize that Eve’s expression was growing increasingly sour. She shifted her body position every few seconds, each movement accompanied by an indiscreet groan or sigh and a periodic eye roll so that she could make her displeasure known. She had left her utensils crossed on top of her plate and folded her arms across her chest implacably. She checked her phone a few times in her lap with apparent disappointment. Silas was sitting with one boot up on the seat of the chair next to him. One arm lay heavy on the table and the other he used to pull down on his black curls emerging from behind his ear.
“Should we make a fire later?” Hazel blurted out. Eve flinched like glass had shattered.
The silence on the other end of her question was thick and viscous.
The feeling crept up again. The terror that it wouldn’t work out. But again she willed it so far down that she hoped it would never see the light of day again.
“I think I’m going to hit the hay early tonight, Hazel,” Silas responded and lifted his arm to give Hazel a characteristic rub of her hair.
“Same,” Eve said and pushed her plate farther out in front of her, barely having eaten a morsel.
Silas started clearing dishes and Eve slunk upstairs, leaving Hazel alone at the table.
“I can help clean up,” Hazel chimed in.
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” Silas said with a half smile. “Don’t tell anyone but I kind of like cleaning. Keeps my hands busy while I clear my thoughts.” He winked and turned on the water of the sink to drown out any potential for a response. He seemed almost dejected. But about what?
Hazel pushed the question down and skulked away.
When Hazel got upstairs to the bedroom, Eve was already tucked into her bed in the dark with the glow of her cell phone emanating near her face. Hazel thought better than to turn the lights on and slipped into bed.
She checked her own phone in some part to find herself on the same page as Eve in any capacity and in some part to distract herself from the weight of even more silence.
There was a text from her mother. A simple but still loaded How are you, honey? that Hazel still didn’t feel compelled to respond to. She didn’t know how to answer anymore. She didn’t know whether she should say nothing or everything.
It occurred to Hazel that she used to find comfort in the solitude of her own bedroom at home, tucked under the covers with the door propped just open enough for her to hear the murmurs of the rest of the house. But now, the silence felt harsh and pressing. Hazel turned her attention from the room to any noise coming from the kitchen. She at least expected to hear the clamoring of pots and pans getting returned to their drawers or the rush of water from the sink. But the kitchen sounded hollow and empty like before. She feared this could be the new version of reality. And she was no longer a fan of the quiet.
Hazel was desperate for connection. Desperate.
She tucked her phone underneath her pillow where she couldn’t see the glow of the screen.
“Eve,” she blurted out into the darkness. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah, why?” Eve responded without turning around.
“How did you find out about me?” Hazel asked. She could see Eve stirring a bit now.
“What do you mean?” Eve responded lacklusterly.
“I mean how did you know we were sisters?”
“Oh, this is a good one,” Eve replied with much more energy. She sat straight up and turned her lamp on.
The glow lit her face up, and Hazel could sense a maniacal twinge in her eye.
“Well,” Eve began, slamming her palms onto the sheets next to her, causing them to ripple.
“As you know, I am always one to have all the information. Some people call it gossip but I really prefer to call it information. And there was no way I was going to not find every bit of information about my own father.”
Hazel nodded along. The feeling resonated.
“And in this case the information wasn’t just going to come find me. My mother gave up his name pretty easily.”
Eve smiled proudly and flipped her messy bun from one side of her head to the other.
“I told her I was sick of her secrets and she just blurted it right out. So, one day after school, I googled his name. Silasbox.com was the first search result. I literally could not believe it would be this easy and I clicked on the page. The first page was boring. Just a bunch of shitty tables and st
uff. But then I found the About Me page.”
Hazel felt the room get a bit colder and the light of the lamp against Eve’s cheek get more dramatic as the story continued.
“Silas’s picture popped up right away and there was no doubt that this was him. His green eyes. His black hair. If it’s not creepy to say, his good looks. And right there beneath the picture was a whole set of contact information. Email, phone number, address.”
Eve paused and Hazel felt a pulse of energy run through her.
“I thought calling him would be the easiest first step so I did. The phone rang a few times and I thought he might not pick up but then I heard his voice on the other end.”
Hazel was enraptured now. “Well, what did you say?”
“I said, ‘I think I’m your daughter.’”
“Just like that?!” Hazel asked with true shock at Eve’s straightforwardness.
“Yup, just like that. It was quiet on the other end of the line for a moment and then... Want to know what he said?”
Eve was giggling now, her shoulders bouncing up and down.
“He cleared his throat and he sounded a bit flustered. ‘Uh, right. The other daughter.’”
Eve guffawed as the words left her lips and Hazel’s tummy clenched into one big knot. Silas knew about her the whole time? Her father knew about her the whole time? It was almost as if it were all happening all over again. That kick in the stomach, those hot tears pressing behind the eyes, the constriction of the throat that came with learning that the things you thought you knew were not wholly true. She wasn’t sure whether to interpret this as a betrayal or not. But Hazel wanted to stay far, far away from that idea. She wanted to push it way, way away. She wanted so badly for this new life to be her permanent one now.
Hazel had barely caught her breath again when Eve continued.
“Now this truly shocked me into a moment of confusion and silence, so he went on. ‘Jane is your mother?’ he asked, now sounding a bit nervous. ‘No, I’m Eve,’ I explained. And I could tell this one was a real kick in the nuts for him because all he could say was ‘Oh, shit. I didn’t know there was another one.’”
That Summer in Maine Page 20
