A normal person would’ve clucked and hovered over him to make sure he was okay. Not watching silently over his dad’s shoulder gnawing her lip unsure of what to do.
Once we were back on the path to the hippos, Grant offered his hand again and I reluctantly took it. I could see the confusion in the tightness of his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. As if he could sense something was off, he simply rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand offering his support.
He makes it so easy to love him.
Which is why I should be an adult and bring this up to him. But instead, I’m cowering out of fear.
If I can’t be what Grant wants, will I lose him?
It’s that fear simmering underneath my skin.
Candice has been eyeing me the whole time we waited for our table and now that we’re seated, I feel like I’m being interrogated by the FBI complete with the pendant lights shining right on me. The way she squints her eyes at me across the table has me quivering in my seat like a scorned child and I haven’t even done anything yet. “So Grant, huh?”
After being so intimidated by her, the question makes me snort out a laugh. “Are you upset?”
“Upset? Are you kidding me? I’m downright proud. I’ve just been waiting for you to finally fess up. Now, tell me everything.”
My stomach erupts into butterflies as I tell my sister everything starting from the very beginning. All the nerves I had going into this evening fade away the more I talk. Hearing her gasp and squeal like a teenager as I recount how Grant and I got together, I’m reminded of how lucky I am to have a sister like her. Not every girl has this close of a friendship with their sibling, let alone their older sister. We managed to fight our way through childhood, build an understanding through our teenage years, and foster a close friendship into adulthood.
“So why did you keep it a secret?” she asks as she takes a bite of salmon.
I sigh into my plate. “I don’t know. Maybe I thought if I told someone about it, it wouldn’t happen. That it would turn out how every other date has. For all I knew, it would be a repeat of Randy.”
Candice nearly chokes on her water. “Oh my gosh, I forgot about Randy!”
“I wish I could forget!” I laugh. “I have you to thank for that one.” Randy was one of her infamous set-ups. He was a friend of a friend who lived forty-five minutes away in the small town of Rose Prairie. We talked on the phone a few times and I was excited to meet him. Drove to a cute little diner only to find out that Randy was already married. Candice’s match-making services were revoked on the spot.
“But seriously, things are good, right?” She asks when our laughter dies down. “You’re in love with him. He’s in love with you. It’s easy to see how much you care for each other. It’s written all over your faces when you’re together.”
I’m not sure how to answer her question. It’s not a simple yes or no. Yes, we love each other. Yes, we care very deeply for one another. Yes, things are good. But there’s still a but.
Her expression turns serious at my quiet contemplation, concern painted across her face. “Things aren’t good?”
If there’s any person other than Grant to talk my feelings through with, it would be my sister. She’s done all of it: dating, marriage, and parenthood. So why is it so hard to say the words?
“Grant’s great. Amazing. He’s the guy I’ve always wanted…”
“But?”
“But,” I suck in a large breath holding it for a second before exhaling the words in a rush, “What if I’m not everything he wants?”
Candice softens, smiling at me. It’s not meant to chastise but to empathize. “Hazel.”
“I know,” I mutter through a throat thick with emotion. A headache starts to form from the effort to hold back tears. The middle of a crowded restaurant isnotthe place to have an emotional breakdown.
“Has he said anything to make you think that?”
My answer is quick. “No. Never. Grant’s in. A hundred percent. There’s nothing about him that I question. It’s me that’s the problem.”
“Okay,” she says, placing her fork down. “Help me understand. You love him. You’re secure in your relationship with him.” I nod. “He’s not making you doubt anything, but you’re doubting yourself?” I nod again. “Don’t take this the wrong way Hazel, but what could you possibly doubt yourself about?”
God this feels like a therapy session. But bottling up these thoughts and feelings isn’t doing me any good. If anything, it’s putting my relationship in jeopardy. “I just don’t know if I can do it.”
“Do what?”
“Be a mom.”
There it is. The words I’ve kept hidden and tucked away are out in the open.
