From her spot on the porch, she watched a cloud of dust moving down the road toward her house, and when the dust cloud turned into her driveway, she hoped it was Ruston coming back. It was that moment she had no idea what he drove. Which meant she was sure it was him until the SUV stopped and Natalie climbed out of it.
Groaning quietly, she didn’t want to talk to Natalie. They tended to just fight or cry when they were together. Now here she was, and Hazel’s emotions were not ready for her. She just wanted to be alone. She remained silent as Natalie parked the car and walked toward the house. Maybe she would leave.
“Hazel,” Natalie said as she got to the top step of the porch.
“Natalie,” Hazel said from her spot, unmoving.
“Ruston called me to tell you he has a parishioner who needs him. He doesn’t know when he will be done, so I gave him your cell number. He didn’t have it.” Natalie sat on the other end of the swing, pushing it into motion.
“Thank you,” Hazel said, not looking at her. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized they didn’t know each other’s numbers, that they had missed that step in whatever it was they were doing.
“I could have texted you that, but I want to talk to you.”
“We don’t do well with talking.”
“I know. But we should.”
Hazel shrugged at her words. Looking over at her former friend, she saw the changes in the woman who sat beside her from the girl she had been. Always taller than the May girls, Natalie was also darker with olive skin and black hair. But what caught Hazel’s eye was a scar she showed in the V neck of her shirt. It was not a faint scar; it was very visible. Until today, Hazel had never seen it.
“Do you have a lot of scars?” Hazel asked, but she knew she did. Though she tried not to, she heard about the damage, the surgeries, the recovery that her friend had gone through over the years.
“Yes.” Natalie turned toward her and pulled up her shirt.
Hazel gasped at the white and red lines covering her friend’s body, from long to short ones. Some looked bad, some looked okay. One ran from where Hazel had seen it above her shirt to mid-stomach.
“They are my reminder of that day. I think of Hanna and Henry every time I see them.”
“I have other reminders. I see them every day when I look in the mirror. I see them age when I know they won’t,” Hazel whispered.
“They wouldn’t want you to live like this.” She put her shirt down and looked around the yard.
“I have nothing else. No skills, no money, nothing.”
“The book club can figure it out. Mia always needs someone for the café, and Ruth has an apartment for you. She’s waving rent until you can get a job that pays.”
It seemed she had been planning before Hazel had even thought about that.
“I have no one to watch John Henry,” was all she said. It was enough.
Natalie just shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. Between the five of us, we should be able to figure something out. We are there for you; you have to know that.”
“I’ll think about it.” Hazel wanted to believe it was that easy. But nothing had ever been easy for her.
“Can I ask how it’s going with Ruston?” Natalie turned her body toward her.
She didn’t look at her. “There’s nothing between us.”
“Oh really? You’re going to go with that answer? I saw the kiss, and I know he stayed the night.” Natalie grinned at her.
“It’s not going to lead anywhere. We both know that.” Hazel bristled at Natalie’s glare.
“I don’t think Ruston thinks that.”
“I have told him.”
“He could lose his job if people found out he was staying here.”
“He knows the risk.”