Her eyes darted from the remaining toys to the boy talking in his arms, then back again. In a near panic, she rushed to Ruston and took the boy from his arms. The boy, it seemed, did not want his mom and squirmed immediately to get away from her. Due to his size versus hers, he was able to get free easily—her days of controlling him with strength alone were soon over.
Quickly, she squatted down and grabbed him around the waist and held his body to hers, whispering, “No, leave him alone. He doesn’t want us here today. Don’t bother him today.”
“Let him go, Hazel. He’s not bothering me,” he stated firmly, unable to control his tone in that moment. He watched her arms instantly let go at his command.
“He’s in a mood.” Her voice was still at a whisper, using words he had never heard her use. She was still squatting on the floor as the boy ran off, away from them both. But once he was gone, Hazel took off after him, grabbing him up and hurrying into their bedroom. Shutting the door behind her.
Watching her go, he saw the action for what it was. Defensive. This was how she kept the little boy away from her grandparents for years. The moment he started acting like a little boy, she would take him to her room. That tiny room packed with everything she and he owned.
Not anymore.
Never again.
Stomping to the door, he opened it and saw her holding John Henry tight, her eyes wide at him coming into the room. It must have not been something her grandparents would do. “Hazel, he’s four. He’s acting perfectly normal. Let him go so he can play,” he said, and she did, John Henry darting from the room without looking back at them.
“You’re tired of him, of me. I can be out in an hour. I have very little here that’s mine.” She crushed a bear she had picked up to her chest.
“What are you talking about? What makes you think I’m tired of you? That I could possibly be tired of you?” He didn’t move for fear she would leave the room as fast as her son had.
Was it Kit? Had she said something? What could she have said?
“When you married me, you didn’t realize that you would have to choose between Thomas and me. But you don’t. Thomas is your best friend, so I will leave. You don’t have to make that decision.” Her words came in a rush.
“You are my wife,” he reminded her. She was the most important person to him, besides her son.
“A wife you didn’t want. You had to marry me, remember? Now that we’re married, we can separate quietly, and your job will be safe.” She let go of the bear and dropped it on the bed.
What was going on? Why was she suddenly talking like this now?
“I wasn’t exactly honest about that. I was told to marry you or stop seeing you. I couldn’t stop seeing you, Hazel. This, what we have right now, is what I wanted. Since that party last summer, I have wanted you in my life.” He finally went to her, glad she stayed on the bed.
“Kit was right? You lied to me? Why?” Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and he wished he hadn’t let the other woman come over. He should have rushed over to get her to leave when he saw her go into the house.
“I don’t know what Kit said to you. I lied because I was scared that if I didn’t act fast, you would have left town. I couldn’t take the chance of losing you. In fact, if you left Landstad, left me, I would have followed you. Wherever you go, I will follow. I am so in love with you, I can’t think when you’re not near.”
She didn’t look up from the stuffed animal on her lap.
“That was then. Now I know you’re tired of me, of us. I can see it. We’re a bother. You’ve realized we aren’t worth the trouble. I am trouble.” She toyed with the bear’s ears as she spoke, her words focused on it and not looking up at him.
Crouching down, so he was level with the bear, he took her hand. Just one in both of his. Not wanting her to feel trapped, not wanting her to panic.
“I am not your grandparents, Hazel. I will never be them. I love you both, and I am not going to get tired of you. And John Henry is four; I know he’s just being a kid. It’s something I love about you two being around, something I didn’t even know I was missing before I met you.”
“But I have all this stuff from my past, and a loud, messy son, and I don’t have a job.”
“And none of that matters because it makes you, you. I love you. I don’t love a simple and uncomplicated Hazel; I love Hazel May, and I love her kid, and I never want to be without them.” He hoped she was listening to him, believing him.
“Nobody has loved me. Not for a long time. Even before they died, I wasn’t anyone’s favorite. Sometimes I felt everyone liked Natalie better than me. When they died, and she lived, I secretly was happy that she didn’t get to die with them. Because that was my place. It proved she couldn’t take my place. But still, every time I saw Natalie, I would wonder why I wasn’t good enough to have been there with them that night, to die with them. Why not me? Why was God punishing me by letting me live?” Her tears ran down her cheeks and into the bear’s fur.
Ruston’s heart hurt at her anger, her pain at simply not being included in what she felt was her place, beside them in life and death. To not feel blessed that she lived. That she had spent seven years feeling cursed that she lived. That she was being punished.
“You were never meant to be there. You need to be thankful you were lucky to live. To grow up, to have a son, to have friends and family who love you. You were never supposed to die out there with them.” He pulled the bear away and pulled her into his arms, needing her to feel the love that she had been missing for years.
Her body burrowed into his, and her tears dampened his shirt. “My grandparents hated that I was a constant reminder that they were gone. They couldn’t get over that. I was a disappointment to them, a disappointment that I didn’t die. That I brought a baby home. That I continued to live.”
Ruston shook his head, though she couldn’t see it. “That’s their issue, Hazel, not yours. I think that your grandparents were the most negative people I have ever met. In the end, they were just looking for an excuse to not love you because you are easy to love.”
“They loved me once upon a time. Growing up, I knew I was loved. We were all loved. It made it harder when the love was gone, replaced by bitterness that nothing could fix. All the pictures were put away, all the memories forgotten. We were all just surviving for so long.”