Wishful Thinking

by Alexandra Bullen

  “I have no idea what Maura is doing out here all day,” Jaime sighed as Hazel crouched low beside her. “I swear, I heard her talking to the lettuce the other morning. How could she not notice that these poor little guys are being totally strangled?”

  It was the first time Hazel had been inside the garden’s mesh-wire fencing. There were rows and rows of lettuce and squash, tomato plants, grown taller than she was, tied to wooden stakes, and long, skinny pole beans casting swinging shadows out onto the footpath. The strawberry patch was tucked in a sunny spot on the far side of the garden, and was so tangled in weeds and sprouting vines that it was hard to see any of the tender red fruit poking through.

  “How do you know what’s a weed?” Hazel asked, gently tugging at a stringy patch of unwanted-looking green. Her fingers were stiff from ripping packing tape all day, but it felt good to be working outside.

  “If it comes up easy, it’s probably not supposed to be there,” Jaime explained, plunging her hands into the soft dirt and dragging up fingers full of tiny green clovers. “The roots will resist if you tug on them too hard.”

  Hazel found a smattering of loose weeds and ripped them easily out of the earth. “Weeds?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Weeds,” Jaime confirmed, tossing them into the growing pile. “But look out for the runners. Strawberries are weirdos. They shoot out these long stems and root down again about a foot away. See?”

  Jaime picked up a long, thick root and followed it to another smaller patch of plants, closer to the fence. “That’s how you get mothers and daughters. The ones you plant are the mothers, and the ones that sprout up where the runners reroot are the daughters. And then the daughters send out runners of their own. It’s like girl-only procreation. Pretty bad-ass, huh?”

  Hazel smiled to herself, carefully picking around the bottom of one of the plants at her feet. There was something satisfying about pulling up weeds. It was almost like she could feel the plants breathing easier as she cleared up the crowded space around them.

  “I’m telling him tomorrow,” Jaime said all of a sudden. Hazel still hadn’t quite gotten used to the way Jaime just picked up in the middle of a thought. She was either not in the mood for conversation or racing toward the end of one. There was never any in-between.

  “Reid,” Jaime continued, mistaking Hazel’s quiet for confusion. “I’m telling him about the baby.”

  “Wow.” Hazel swallowed, her heart jumping into her throat. “That’s… big.”

  Hazel took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but her pulse was beating an insistent rhythm in her veins. She’d been waiting for this moment ever since she made the wish for Reid to come back. It had been almost unbearable, and the last few times Reid had been over to the guesthouse it was all Hazel could do not to “accidentally” blurt out the secret herself. She couldn’t wait until the truth was out, and they could all start planning for what would happen next. It was as if she were running a race; she could see the finish line, and all she could think about was getting there.

  Jaime dusted off a tight knot of roots. She was obsessively patting the dirt around the bottom of the plant, in a way that seemed like stalling. “I think I’ll tell him at Illumination Night,” she said firmly. “It seems fitting, don’t you think?”

  There had been talk of Illumination Night all week long. Hazel still wasn’t totally sure what it was, aside from an end-of-summer tradition in town involving live music, more fireworks, and lots of lanterns. Luke had asked her to go with him, as if she’d have gone with anyone else. He still got all nervous and shy about things like that, in a way that made Hazel fall for him even harder.

  Now Illumination Night would be important for two reasons. A special date with Luke, before the summer’s end, and the night Reid found out he was going to be a father.

  “How do you think he’s going to take it?” Hazel asked, forcing more calming breaths to steady the nervous tremors in her voice.

  Jaime stopped weeding and stared off into the open fields. “I don’t know,” she said. Hazel could tell Jaime was doing her best to stay calm, too. “I really hope he’s not mad at me for hiding it so long.”

  Hazel nodded. She pictured Reid’s face, the tender way he looked at Jaime, always checking in to make sure she was okay. She couldn’t imagine him ever being angry.

  “And he leaves for school pretty soon,” Jaime added, digging her hands back into the ground. “I have to say something if I want to go with him.”

  Hazel’s hands froze in midair, a knotty mess of weeds clutched between her fingers. “Go with him?” she asked dumbly. She knew that Reid was going to Dartmouth in the fall. But she figured that once Jaime had told him she was pregnant, he’d change his mind and stay with her on the island. Hazel had never seriously considered the possibility that they’d go together anywhere else.

  “Yeah,” Jaime said. “I can’t ask him not to go to college. It wouldn’t be fair. And we’ve already kind of talked about finding an apartment together. It’s supposed to be a really cool town. Lots of kids our age, tons of stuff to do, and near the mountains.”

  Hazel sat back on her heels. Her knees were starting to hurt from crouching for so long, and the tops of her toes were tingling. New Hampshire wouldn’t be terrible, she guessed. It wouldn’t be as comfortable as the island, since they wouldn’t know anyone, but Reid would have his friends at school. It would be cool to grow up with young parents in a hip college town. And wherever they were, they’d all be together, and that was the important part. No more foster families that never seemed to have enough room, or on-again, off-again stints with Roy.

  Hazel stared at her dirty fingernails, her vision blurring as she imagined what her life would be like. If Jaime kept her, and she and Reid raised her together, when she made her final wish to go back home, where would “home” be?

  She’d have everything she always wanted. Parents who loved her, worried about her, asked how her day was over dinner every night. A real house. A real bed. Friends she’d grow up with and not have to leave behind before she’d really made them.

  What would it be like? What would she be like? Would she be interested in the same things? Would she still care about taking pictures?

  Or would she be a totally different person? What if she became somebody else? What if she turned into one of those ungrateful girls who complained all the time and lied to their parents? Without any idea of what her life could have been, would she even appreciate all that she had?

  Yes, she decided. With a mom like Jaime, and a dad like Reid, of course she would be grateful. The three of them would be all of the family she’d ever wanted, and she’d never need to make another wish again.

  “It sounds perfect,” she said, turning to Jaime with a smile.

  “I think so, too,” Jaime agreed, though there was something small in her voice. Her thick eyebrows were knit tightly together, and the corners of her mouth were pulled in.

  “What do you think you’d do there?” Hazel asked, stretching her long legs out in front of her and giving them a rest. She’d been so busy thinking about how her own life would be changing, she hadn’t once thought about what it would all mean for Jaime.

  Jaime shrugged and picked up another handful of weeds from the ground between her bare feet. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I guess I could take classes or something. That way maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad about turning down the scholarship.”

  Hazel paused mid-stretch and turned to look at Jaime. “Scholarship?” she asked. “What scholarship?”

  Jaime reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to Hazel. “A while back, before… all this… I applied to this program that organizes digs in Peru,” she said. “You know, like lost civilizations, ancient ruins, that sort of thing. It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal?” Hazel repeated. The letter was on thick paper with some kind of government seal, and lots of words in a language that looked a lot like Spanish but wasn’t. �
��How long have you known about this?”

  Jaime shrugged again, taking the paper back and folding it in half. “A couple weeks,” she said. “But there’s nothing I can do. The timing couldn’t be any worse.”

  Jaime leaned forward and smoothed the ground where she’d been digging, tucking the plant back into the soft, solid earth. “Besides,” she went on, “when I applied, I had no idea what I’d be going through. It just doesn’t seem as important now that I have a family to think about. All that matters is that we stay together.”

  Hot tears burned at the corner of Hazel’s eyes and she leaned forward to hide her face. It was exactly what she’d wanted to hear. She dug her hands back into the ground, tugging at a thick, stubborn vine. It snapped in her hand and she fell back, holding a ball of broken roots.

  “Nice one,” Jaime laughed in mock disappointment, tracing the root back to the mother plant. “Daughter down.”

  Hazel looked at the wounded roots sagging in her hands and took a deep breath, silently apologizing to the uprooted plant. She’d been there. And whatever it meant, whatever it took, things were going to be different now. She’d never have to feel so alone again.

  24

  Hazel should have known there would be walking involved.

  First, there was the walking to town, from what appeared to be the last available parking spot on the entire island. For Illumination Night, every road leading into Oak Bluffs was lined bumper-to-bumper with cars, not to mention the soccer fields overflowing with creatively parked sedans and pickup trucks. Reid, who had volunteered to chauffeur in his dad’s BMW, eventually found a spot near the gas station, and Luke announced cheerfully that they’d have a bit of a hike into town.

  Next came the walking around town, which even Jaime agreed was the only way to properly enjoy the spectacle of glowing lanterns at the center of the evening’s festivities. Strings of colored paper lanterns were strung delicately from porches and hung across the windows of each of the painted gingerbread houses.

  Luke led them through narrow back alleys, closed to traffic and teeming with visitors on foot. Rows and rows of glittering houses stretched beyond them toward the ocean. Older couples sat swinging on porch chairs, holding hands and admiring the view. Every so often, Luke would wave and call out a hello.

  “Is there anybody on this island who doesn’t know you?” Reid asked as they crossed the street to the sprawling green of Ocean Park.

  “Sure,” Luke said, and smiled, his brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know them.”

  In the middle of the park, a swing band was playing on the wooden stage of a gazebo, and a small crowd had gathered to dance barefoot on the lawn. The sun was just beginning to set and little kids waving glow sticks ran over rumpled blankets and hopped between their parents’ legs. Adults sipped wine from plastic cups and toasted another summer nearly gone by.

  Luke went ahead to find a spot on the lawn, while Reid and Jaime hung back by the curb. “We’ll catch up with you guys later,” Reid called, grabbing for Jaime’s hand.

  Hazel caught Jaime’s eye over her shoulder and tossed her an encouraging smile. She looked beautiful in her simple white sundress, but Hazel knew she was nervous. This was the night she was going to tell Reid about the baby. Hazel wanted to hug her friend but knew it would draw suspicion, so she held up a hand and mouthed Good luck, after Reid had turned to cross the street.

  “Where’d they run off to?” Luke asked, swinging his backpack down over his shoulder. He pulled out a red and white striped sheet that Hazel recognized from the linen closet at Rosanna’s and flapped it out over the grass.

  “I think they want to be alone,” Hazel said, sitting down beside him. Her stomach was in knots and she could hardly keep her mind focused on anything around her. But Luke had gone through so much trouble to make the night special. He began pulling surprises out from his bag: a Tupperware container full of Emmett’s latest foray into the world of cookies (chocolate chip with pecans and dried cranberries), a thermos of pilfered red wine, and two paper cups.

  Hazel crossed her legs, the grass cool and soft beneath the thin layer of faded cotton. She had agonized about what to wear. She knew she had to save her final Posey dress for later, when Reid and Jaime had a plan and Hazel could wish to start over with them, and so she’d ultimately decided on a pair of Rosanna’s chocolate brown linen pants, paired with a pretty white tank with light blue flowers on the straps. As she tried to get comfortable, she was relieved she had opted against the selection of skirts Rosanna had unloaded on her that morning. (The last days of packing for California had landed Hazel with more hand-me-downs than she knew what to do with.)

  Luke poured small sloshes of wine into the cups and handed one to Hazel, along with the biggest cookie in the bag. He held up his own cookie and tapped it against the corner of hers, a silly, crumbly toast.

  “To a perfect summer,” he said, trying to sound official as he bit into one chewy edge. Hazel smiled and did the same. The cookie was somehow still warm, and the perfect combination of soft yet substantial.

  But she could hardly take more than a bite. Her stomach flipped and her heart was full and heavy. She wondered where Jaime and Reid were right now. How would she tell him the news? What would he say?

  She must’ve been fidgeting or making some sort of uncomfortable face because all of a sudden Luke floated his head directly into her line of vision, his eyebrows cinched and concerned.

  “What’s up?” he asked, before glancing down at her untouched cup of wine. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. I have no idea if it’s good or not—it’s all I could find left over at the club.”

  Hazel shook her head and picked up her cup. “No, it’s great,” she said, taking a small sip. It wasn’t that good, actually, but she hardly noticed as she swallowed a tiny gulp.

  The muted sounds of the band across the green wafted around them as Luke stretched out his long legs. “Hazel,” he said, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Hazel lifted her chin to look at him. His dimples were gone and his voice sounded different. Shaky almost, and like it was coming from somewhere deeper inside of him.

  “What is it?” Hazel asked, trying to remember how many times in her life good news had followed that sentence. In the past, There’s something I need to tell you had often directly preceded the announcement: It’s time for us to move again. Or, the alternative, which was more common and even worse: It’s time for you to move again. Whatever was coming, it couldn’t be good, and Hazel felt her body shutting down.

  “Just tell me,” she said, her voice hard and closed. It shocked her how quickly she could switch back to the way she’d used to be. The way she’d had to be at home, always expecting to be let down, forever prepared for the worst.

  “It’s no big deal,” Luke said, tugging at his knuckles and looking at his rough, strong hands. “I just wanted you to know how much fun I’ve been having. You know, since you got here. Ever since I saw you in town that morning, I knew I wanted to know you. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I had a feeling it would be worth it. And I was right.”

  Hazel felt all of the blood rushing to her cheeks and looked away.

  “And I guess I just wanted to say, while I still have the chance…” Hazel felt Luke inching toward her and looked up. His mouth was doing the nervous, twitchy thing and his eyes were squinting a little bit, like he was staring into the sun. He took a quick breath and shakily let it out.

  “I love you, Hazel,” he said. “I love you, and I know the summer’s over, and all kinds of things will be changing, but I hope… I guess I hope that we don’t have to.”

  Hazel held his gaze for what felt like an eternity. His light brown eyes were still and focused, begging her to hear him, begging her to say something… but she couldn’t speak.

  “That’s all,” he said, a tentative smile pulling at his lips.

  She swallowed, her pulse a stampede, echoing
in her ears, and took a hearty sip of wine. Her hand was starting to tremble. She wedged the cup into the grass beside her, not wanting to spill any on the sheet. She’d heard that red wine stains were impossible to remove, probably on an infomercial for some kind of magical spray or laundry stick that you rub in circles on your shirt.

  Her neck was hot, the little veins at her collarbone throbbing. Why was she thinking about laundry sticks? Luke had just told her that he loved her. He loved her! Nobody had ever said that to her before. No one had even come close.

  She had to come up with something better than stain-lifting detergent spray.

  “Luke,” she said softly, looking at a spot between the red stripes on the sheet. Her eyes blurred and the crisp white lines turned pink.

  She could feel Luke’s body shifting on the grass as he crossed and uncrossed his ankles, clearing his throat. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

  What was wrong? She hardly knew where to begin. Of course she loved him. At least she thought she did. From that very first day at the ice-cream shop, there had been something so easy about being around him. He was so considerate. So open and uncomplicated. And he was always there. He didn’t disappear unexpectedly. He’d never let her down. It was more than she could say for anybody else she’d known in her life.

  So what was wrong? She was leaving. Everything was about to change. At that very moment, somewhere not so far away, Jaime was telling Reid that they were going to have a baby. Plans were being made. History was being rewritten. A brand-new life was just a wish away. And Hazel would have to start living it.

  Without Luke.

  There was nothing she could say to make him understand. How could she tell him that she loved him, and let him believe that they had a future together, that things wouldn’t change? How could she let him think that this was just the beginning, when it was really more like the end? It would all be nothing but a mouthful of lies.