“I used to live in the city. I moved there after college when I got a job in finance. I was your typical finance bro: ridiculous apartment, a job that owned me six days a week, the circle of friends from the firm, and the pretty fiancé.”
Ivy’s caught off guard. She’s doing her best to mask it, but I can still see glimpses.
“You know that the lodge has always been in our family. My grandparents opened it, then my parents ran it. We knew Hazel would be next to take it over. She loved being outside.” My voice and thoughts veer for a moment. “She moved out here after college and immediately started making it her own. It was her idea to have events like this for guests.” I gesture to thes’mores tray.
I pause. Ivy nods. She’s listening intently. We’re on the edge of something.
“I thought I had it all.” I roll my eyes sarcastically at the cliché. “I tricked myself into thinking it was everything I could ever want and then some. The money was great, but it was the kind of job where you never had a chance to spend it. My job became my focus. Everything else fell to the bottom of the list. Coming home was very close to the bottom.”
“Hazel tried to get me to do short weekend trips, but I always said no. I never wanted to make it work so I didn’t. I treated it like a chore. But one weekend, I finally made it work. It was a Thursday night departure and a Sunday night return. I remember the dread I had when booking that flight.” I laugh because of how ridiculous I was. It sounds even worse coming out of my mouth now.
“I wanted to stay in the city with my current life and it felt like going home was a step back. My family was so excited. It was my birthday weekend and they were so glad I was going to be home for a few nights. The night we were supposed to fly out, my fiancé convinced me to go out for drinks—an early birthday celebration for the two of us. And I never could say no to Lauren.”
I can’t remember the last time I exchanged any kind of message with her. It’s odd to think about. We almost tied our lives together and now I have no idea what she’s up to.
“We had too many drinks and by the time I realized, I was drunk and had missed my flight home. I probably could’ve gotten on a later flight, but Lauren—the short-lived fiancé—convinced me it was no big deal. That I could just fly out the next day. So we stayed at the bar.” My mouth goes dry. I can almost smell the bar now. Hear the sticky floors and too loud laughs. “We drank way too much and were complete idiots the rest of the night.”
Ivy rubs my forearm.
“I rebooked my flight and texted the family group chat how something had come up and I’d be flying in the next afternoon. I had missed calls and voicemails, presumably from them, but I didn’t even take the time to listen. I’d be with them the next day.”
I take a few breaths. My chest aches. I’m hollow and my insides are nothing but black clouds. Ivy reaches over and squeezes my hand. It’s warm and reassuring. I can’t make eye contact with her. Not yet.
“I was hungover and miserable on that flight. I wished I was home on my thousand thread-count sheets, ordering takeout from a ridiculously expensive restaurant—the kind of place where people went for special occasions. But I thought I was above them—I’d get it and eat in bed.” I let go of Ivy’s hand. I stand up in between the loveseat and the fire.
I pace the short distance in front of Ivy. “When my flight landed, I grabbed a taxi to take me to my parents’ house. My lifelong home. I didn’t even tell them what time I was flying in so they could pick me up. I was so fucking selfish.”
My heart could explode. It feels like it could break open in my chest.
“When I walked into my parents’ house, I was annoyed that no one came to the door when I knocked. I rolled my eyes when I saw my parents sitting on the couch.” My voice cracks. I know I’m going to lose it. Deciding to trade pacing for stability, I sit back down. My fingers grip the edge of the loveseat.
“And the moment I saw my mom; I knew something was horribly wrong. I just stood there. My dad was the one who got off the couch, once my mom finally let him go. And he just wrapped his arms around me. He was heavy.” I wipe the corner of my eyes.
Ivy reaches over and places her hand on my back, barely moving it.
“My dad—a man I’d never seen cry my entire life—was sobbing into my chest. No one had said anything yet. I finally asked what was wrong. My dad picked his head up and grabbed me by my shoulders. His blueeyes were red where the white should be, and he took in a single breath. He told me Hazel had been in a car accident. He was in shambles. He couldn’t finish his sentence. The strongest man I knew couldn’t even say the words.”
I put my head in my hands. They’re cold from the chilled air and feel good on my face. I do my best to collect myself.
“My mom was still on the couch. She was the one who said it. She sighed and then it felt like she mustered all the strength she had left to say it. ‘She didn’t make it. Hazel. She died.’”
I think of the sound I made when my mom said those words. It was gut-wrenching. Couldn’t believe it came from me. I don’t share this detail with Ivy.
I let tears roll down my face. No use hiding it.
“My mom’s voice sounded like gravel. I’d never heard her sound like that.” My voice cracks and I cough. “She didn’t stand up from the couch. Her body looked so frail. It was like she had used her last bit of energy to turn and look at me and say those life-changing words.”
I wipe my face with the back of my hands.
“The worst part was when I was able to take in my surroundings. It was decorated for a party.Mybirthday party. And there was some squeaking in the laundry room off the kitchen.”
My knees bounce and shake my whole body.
“My parents told me Hazel wanted to decorate for my birthday. She planned something small with my family. And then my mom jumped off the couch like she forgot something was on the stove. She opened the laundry room and out ran Slate. He was wearing a harness with a red bow on the back. My mom reached down, picked the dog up, and handed him to me.”
“Oh no,” Ivy says. Her voice sounds heavy and like she could cry too.
“He was a birthday gift from Hazel. We talked about how we were happiest with dogs. I acted like there was no room for one in my life, but it wasn’t true. She researched and found a low-energy dog that would behappy in an apartment and on short walks. Hazel even had scheduled a few dog-walking services for me in the next few weeks. She wanted me to try them out and figure out which would work best. She was always one step ahead of me.”
