“Hazel, you can’t blame yourself for surviving,” Natalie finally stated.
“I didn’t say I blame myself,” Hazel argued with her friend, but everyone in the car knew she was lying.
“You didn’t have to. You lived with them blaming you for six years, and it made you miserable,” Ruston said before Natalie could say anything.
“Can we not talk about this?” Hazel said, her voice low.
Was it because she didn’t want to talk about it at all or because the other couple was in the car? He was willing to bet that it was the former. Talking out the situation was hard for her.
“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly, not wanting to make her mad at him. “But I do have to tell you that Thomas is falling for Kit Nordskov.”
“Mandy’s sister?” Hazel questioned with interest.
“Yes, but she was also Jamie Smith’s sister-in-law. I don’t know if you remembered that.”
Hearing her gasp in the dark car said that she hadn’t. Either she hadn’t known or hadn’t remembered. The two were years apart in age and didn’t run in the same circles until recently. Now she was friends with both Kit’s brother and sister.
“They met at the wedding, or actually, they work together and hooked up at the wedding. I think she would be really good for him, but I wanted you to know.” He knew he couldn’t keep it from her. She needed to know.
“I don’t remember her at the wedding,” Hazel said.
“She was at the wedding but not the reception,” Sam said from the back seat.
“She left early, but they hooked up the night before.” Ruston wondered if he had said too much. Natalie was known for running her mouth, and she was definitely listening. “But this needs to not go anywhere. I don’t think Kit wants her parents to know yet.”
“So, no telling anyone,” Sam said flatly, more to Natalie than Hazel.
“You know I would never tell anyone,” Natalie said with a huff. Even she knew she would have trouble keeping her mouth shut.
The car fell silent, with only Sam and Natalie talking quietly to each other, probably because John Henry was sleeping in his car seat between them. Hazel was completely silent as she drove through the night. Ruston left her alone. She needed time to think about Kit being friends with Thomas. Or maybe she wasn’t thinking about it at all. He had no idea. Maybe her mind was on nothing but the accident and Kit’s connection to it.
CHAPTER27
Thursday.The anniversary of the accident fell on a Thursday that year. Hazel had not been looking forward to it, just like every other year. Ruston hadn’t seemed to remember that it was today, if he even knew.
Trying to keep her mind off the events of the day, she cleaned the nearly spotless house. Scrubbing the floors, then walls when she ran out of floors. Then she vacuumed all the carpets and furniture. By lunchtime, she was rearranging the kitchen cabinets, though she just seemed to be putting everything back where it had been before. She hadn’t really wanted to change things in Ruston’s house, not wanting to mess up any part of his life.
Ruston took John Henry back with him to the church for the afternoon to get him out of her hair. With all the cleaning, he was getting on her nerves when he would mess up something. It was best if he was out of the house.
Her goal for the day had been not to cry at all. So far, she had succeeded in her effort, but just barely. Today she had avoided looking at the pictures she had so recently put on the walls, of the smiling happy teens forever trapped in time.
At one point, she thought Natalie would come over, but she knew her friend was in her own private hell today. Same as she was. Some days were not worth sharing.
At three in the afternoon, a light snow had started to fall, so unlike the day seven years before when it had been bright, sunny, and warm all day. With nothing else to do, she walked across the street to get John Henry, so she wouldn’t be alone. Loneliness was setting in as the day progressed.
She found the boy sleeping in Ruston’s office, with her husband working at his desk. He smiled at her, and she just waved, leaving the boy to sleep as long as he needed to. No need for a crabby boy and a crabby mom.
Instead of turning to leave the church and go back across the snowy street, she walked into the sanctuary. It was dark and quiet, so different from Sunday mornings with its brightness and people milling around.
Lightly touching the smooth wood of the pews as she walked past them, she went toward the front of the church. In her heart, she knew that was when you prayed, but she wasn’t there yet.
Looking around the room, her eyes landed on the old piano she had learned to play on. When the triplets were six, their grandmother had dutifully brought them every week to learn to play little songs with Mrs. Green, who was long since gone. Of the three, only Hazel loved it. The other two were no longer playing by seven. But Hazel came back, year after year, even when her grandmother didn’t want to bring her anymore. When Mrs. Green wasn’t able to teach her anything more, she was just there as Hazel played.
At one point, she had begged her grandparents for a piano, but they had always said no, only getting her a guitar when she had changed to begging for that. Neither had ever understood her love of music and had barely tolerated it when she was young. And when she came back, they didn’t. Even the radio was silent most days in the house unless she was alone.
Sitting down at the old familiar instrument, she opened the lid silently, then ran her fingers lightly over the keys, pressing them just enough for them not to make a sound. There was still a chip on the middle C key, and she ran a finger over it, a finger that remembered it even when Hazel didn’t.
Lightly, she played the songs that Mrs. Green had taught her so many years before. Using only three fingers, then four, then finally five. Then adding the other hand to it. Looking at the music in front of her on the stand, she started playing. She knew it was the last song sung on Sunday morning, but it wasn’t one she had ever played before. But the notes played as easy as any song.