The scene was impossibly picturesque, like something straight out of a movie. If I’d ever tried to imagine the perfect little family moment, this would be it. Everyone was pitching in to get dinner on the table, someone setting out plates and silverware, their laughter echoing as they swapped stories from the week.
It made my chest tighten, thinking of Gran. Our dinners had never looked quite this perfect, not in the glossy, magazine-cover kind of way. But the love? The sentiment? That was always there.
Conversation flowed easily as we all gathered around the table. They made answering question after question about myself seem friendly instead of like an interrogation.
“How do you like the salon? I know Ruby is really happy you’re there.”
“What made you want to be a hairstylist?
“Where did you grow up?”
None of the questions were about the extortion situation, my Gran, or Vermont, for which I was immensely grateful. It was nice to feel normal and not like a spectacle. They treatedme like a girl Reid brought home to meet the family, not like his current charity case.
Which wasn’t how I felt. Not really. But sometimes my intrusive thoughts got the better of me.
After we’d all had seconds—thirds if you were Reid—Regan started clearing the plates. I jumped up to help, but Reid’s mom put a firm hand on my shoulder. “Hazel, you’re a guest. You relax. Do you like mint chocolate chip cookies? I just baked some fresh.”
Ugh, they really were perfect. I stayed seated while his mom brought over a heaping plate of cookies. My stomach was near-bursting but they looked way too soft and delicious not to have at least two.
“You can see why dinners are only weekly.” Reid took one off the plate. “If we were here more often than that, I think my arteries would get blocked.”
His mom waved off the comment. “You need food that sticks to your bones. You eat enough healthy stuff.”
“Yeah, not everything needs to go into a macro tracker,” Regan added.
I settled into my seat. They had welcomed me with open arms, and I couldn’t be more grateful Reid had asked me to come tonight.
“Does your family get together often?” his mom asked me.
“Oh, uh, no, not really,” I started.
“Mom.” Reid glared at her.
“No, no, it’s alright,” I added hurriedly. “My gran was my only family, and she passed away last month.”
“I’m so sorry.” Reid’s mom reached out and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Reid mentioned that, but I didn’t realize…Anyway, you’re welcome here anytime.”
“Thank you,” I said. The weight behind my eyes loomed, like I might cry at any moment, but it wasn’t so bad. Because this time it was a mixture of sadness and happiness.
“And we don’t have to talk about it, of course, but I hatewhat you’re going through right now. I hope you’re doing okay.”
“People absolutely suck,” Regan chimed in, shaking her head.
“We’re here if you need anything,” his dad said.
That was it. Now the tears were really in danger of spilling over.
“I appreciate that. Would you just excuse me one second. Where’s the bathroom?” I stood up, the chair squeaking across the tiled floor.
“Down the hall to the left.” Mr. Mitchell pointed behind him.
I rushed off down the hallway, rounded the corner, and enclosed myself in the tiny pink powder room. A few tears spilled out almost immediately and I tore off a piece of toilet paper to wipe them away.
A soft knock came at the door. I quickly blew my nose and wiped at my face. My eyes glistened and were a little red, but overall, I looked put together.
“Hazel? It’s me. Open up.” Reid’s concern shone through even with his voice muffled.
I unlocked the pocket door and slid it open. His eyes widened when they saw me, before he pulled his glasses off and squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Shit. Are you okay? I should have warned them not to say anything.”
