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Chapter One
Dean
I wake up slowly, the dream I was just having faded away. The sound of my alarm going off beside me forces me to shake the sleep out. I turn on my side, grabbing my phone and turning my alarm off. Then I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling for a long time, trying to remember even just a fragment of the dream I was just having.
This is how it always goes. When I’m in the dream, everything feels so lively, so vivid, so real. The moment I open my eyes, all of that just drifts too far for me to reach. I don’t remember a damn thing no matter how hard I seem to try. Yet at the same time, I just know it was the most lifelike dream.
It’s so frustrating.
I let out a deep sigh, rubbing tiredly at my eyes before finally rolling out of bed and onto my feet. I make my way into the bathroom, getting the shower going.
Today is Saturday and normally, I would be sleeping in a bit, but Hazel has different plans. Apparently, there’s a magical duo coming into town today and she’s planning on meeting them. I’ve never heard of them before but she assures me that they’re something special.
They work for the National Magical Education Department, going from city to city and helping people realize their own magical abilities. One of them has the gift of sensing other people’s magic and the other has the ability to draw those powers out.
That sounds like quite the handy duo to me!
Hazel has been excited about meeting them since she saw they were coming into our town. They’re doing a little meet and greet at the back of Hazel’s favorite coffee shop; The Screaming Owl. When she asked me to come along, I agreed without even having to think it over because one, I love spending time with my daughter, and two, I want to be there when and if they help her realize she has a magical ability.
Not everyone is born with magic but if I’m being honest, it seems like the majority of people at least have a little bit of magic running through them. The same cannot be said for me. When I was a teenager, I was so desperate to be magical yet throughout the years, nothing ever manifested. Now I’m in my fifties and have come to be content with who I am.
How could I not be? I’m successful, I have an amazing daughter, I have friends around me. I have a good and happy life here. Peaceful.
Is it lonely now that Hazel has moved out? Sure. But I’m fine. Like I said, things are peaceful.
After my shower, I take care to get myself dressed in a nice blue polo and some tan pants. I make use of the hair products Hazel got me, telling me I have to take better care of my curly hair. Then I spritz myself with some cologne.
Looking in the mirror, I let my eyes wander over my face. I look… well, I look fine. Anyone who looks at me can tell I’m old. I have wrinkles and white hair. Some might joke that I’m distinguished and I know, objectively, I’m handsome, but really, what they mean is that I’m no longer a spring chicken. Gods, I have a daughter who’s in her twenties. I’ve been at the same job for thirty years. I’m almost at the age where I can think about retiring, but what the hell would I do then? Sit at home wasting away?
With one last look, I turn away, going into the living room so I can get ready to leave. It doesn’t take me long to drive over to Hazel’s apartment. She’s already outside waiting for me, a grin on her face. She’s bouncing from foot to foot, excitement clear in the way she moves.
Affection strikes me straight in the chest. My love for her has only deepened over the years, morphing with every passing milestone. I don’t have to take care of her anymore. She’s a grown woman, yet I can’t stop wondering if she needs anything, if there’s anything I can do to help her.
When Hazel was born, her mother passed away due to complications. I’ve been a single father her entire life. At times, it was hard, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I love her so freaking much it leaves me breathless at times.
“Dad!”
“Hey, baby girl,” I say, opening my arms for her. She rushes over, hugging me tight and making me groan as my back cracks.
When she pulls back, she tugs on my hair. “I told you that pomade would make your curls look good! See, you have to trust me more.”
“Okay, okay,” I say, holding up my hands in surrender. “You were right about this, but don’t forget about the blue hair debacle.”
“Dad,” Hazel says with a whine, shaking her head at me. “That was when I was twelve! You can’t keep holding that over me.”
“I can and I will,” I tell her with a chuckle. “It’s what dads do.”
Hazel grumbles under her breath as we start walking down the street. The Screaming Owl isn’t too far from her apartment so we decided to walk. It’s a gorgeous day outside. Fall has officially started to settle in so the air is crisp instead of hot. I love this time of the year. It’s full of sweaters and warm coffee and walks outside where we’re not sweating our butts off.
Fall is special to me because it’s when I met Hazel’s mother, Helen. Helen was a whirlwind of a woman. We met during the first day of college. There was a connection between us like I’d never felt before, like the universe knew we were destined to cross paths and be in each other’s lives.
Helen wasn’t the love of my life, she was the bestest friend a guy could ask for. The love we shared was deep and profound but it wasn’t romantic. She was my platonic soulmate. After we graduated, we moved into a rented house together. When she said she wanted a baby, I immediately agreed to co-parent with her.
Helen was in my life for too short of a time, but the impact she had on me changed me as a person. Maybe I’ve slipped back into that shy, timid guy who was too afraid to make waves or take a chance, the same guy I was before I met Helen.
I’ll always be thankful for Helen. She brought me Hazel. She made me a better man. I miss her all the time.
A finger poking my cheek brings me back to the present. I startle a bit, looking over at Hazel with a raised brow.
