Zoe grins beside her. “She’s also one sexy-ass mama.”
“Thank you.” Tears fill my eyes as I gulp back the lump in my throat. “What would I do without you guys?”
Cassidy sets down her clipboard. “You’ll never have to find out.”
“Nope.” Lucy moves forward, forming one edge of the circle around me. “We’ve got your back, Hazel.”
“And your front.” Molly sets down her stethoscope. “And all your other parts.”
Moving as one, these women wrap me in a big group hug. “We’re family forever,” Brooke says. “And family takes care of family.”
Sniffling, I spit out her hair. “I love all of you so damn much.”
“Good.” Lucy draws back and smiles into my eyes. “Now you just need to tell Luke the same thing.”
My phone starts to buzz, breaking up our hug-fest. Wiping my eyes, I glance at the name on the screen. “My mother,” I say. “I’ve been trying to reach her.”
“Go ahead and take it,” Cassidy says. “We’ve got this handled.”
“Thank you.” Heaving myself from the chair, I put the phone to my ear and answer. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hazel. Thank you for your email. How disappointing it didn’t work out with Easton Wherclift.”
“We’ll find someone else,” I assure her. “That’s actually not why I’ve been calling.”
“Oh?” My mother sounds wary. “You haven’t given birth yet, have you?”
“No, but that’s part of it.” Where do I start? I haven’t rehearsed this, so I just blurt it out. “I love you, Mom. But sometimes I struggle to believe you love me.”
“Hazel, that’s silly. Of course I love you. You’re my daughter.”
“Do you remember what you said when I told you I was pregnant?” I don’t give her a chance to respond. “You told me how hard it is, being a mother. You said it would break my heart and leave me feeling horrible about myself. You called it a one-way ticket to pain more profound than I could imagine. Is this ringing a bell?”
My mother says nothing at first. Then, she sighs. “I never knew how to be a good mom. I didn’t have one, and I felt lost from the start with you. Even your loathsome father knew more than me about being a parent. The two of you had this bond from the start, and I just…” Her voice breaks a little, and I hear her taking deep breaths. “I didn’t know how to be part of that. And you were so perfect. So perfect, Hazel—smart and beautiful and kind and loving with everyone—from your grandparents to your cousins to your dollies.” She laughs, but it sounds more sad than joyful. “Even at seven years old, you had more mothering skills than I ever did.”
“It’s not about skill.” I’m not sure how, but somehow I know what to say. “It’s about being there for your child, again and again and again. It’s admitting you don’t know everything but showing up anyway. It’s about pouring so much love into someone that it makes up for the fact that you’re screwing up just as often as you’re getting it right.”
Mom sniffles. “I wish it wasn’t too late to go back. I’d do things differently, Hazel. I’ve always wished we could be closer.”
“We can. You don’t have to go back to do that.” I’m crying again, wondering why it took me so long to have this conversation. “We can start fresh, Mom. We can have the kind of relationship I’ve wished for. It sounds like you’ve wished for it, too.” I choke on a surge of surprise at that fact. “I had no idea you felt the same way.”
“I’ve been too afraid to say anything.” Her laugh sounds more like a sob. “You’ve always been so much braver than me. You’ve always just known how to have the hard conversations.”
“I haven’t always.” But dammit, I want to get better. “I’m learning, too, Mom. I’m trying every day to get a little bit better.”
“Maybe,” she says softly, “we can try together.”
“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”
“I love you, Hazel.”
It’s the first time she’s ever said the words first. “I love you, too.”
“Can you forgive me for being a terrible mother?”
“You weren’t terrible. You were just doing your best.” I sense she needs more than that. “I forgive you, though.”
“Oh, Hazel.” She draws a shuddery breath. “Thank you.”
