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4
HAZEL
I wake up in a cold sweat. I just had the weirdest dream that I was a little fish, swimming in a fishbowl, when all of a sudden a hand reached inside and, well, fished me out of it only to drop me into another fishbowl.
It was disconcerting. Both fishbowls were perfectly fine as far as fishbowls go, but they were still…fishbowls. I rub my eyes open as I vaguely recall wishing in my dream state that I were that tiny-bitty fish swimming around a big ol’ deep lake, instead of a fishbowl.
What…the heck. I haven’t a clue what it’s supposed to mean. Is Seattle supposed to be one of the fishbowls, or is Seattle the lake? Am I like a small fish in real life, or a big fish in a little bowl? What am I supposed to be? What. Do. I. Want.
I cast about for my phone to call or text Tess and ask for her thoughts, but then I remember she’s in San Diego all week, where her younger sister is having a baby. All over again my eyes take in the room that would’ve been mine in a parallel reality. With the early-morning sun shining in, it’s even more homey and serene than yesterday. And so quiet.
My gosh, is it quiet.
I decide that today is going to be a new day. I am going to give this time with my bio family my all and accept whatever comes of this visit. Though I miss my parents and even my brothers, kind of, I fix myself up and go downstairs wearing a genuine smile full of gratitude and presence and love. Channeling the mindset Marjorie Hardin herself extols on social media.
Mrs. Hardin, I mean Mama. I mean Marjorie is in the kitchen making a country breakfast that smells heavenly. My sisters, Sophie and Liz, are having a spirited debate, over what I’m not sure, at the breakfast table. All giggly and grinning and shaking their heads at each other.
My soul warms. I can almost picture Rosemary sitting there with them. It hits me that no matter what happens between my families and me, Rosie will also be experiencing changes. In some ways she feels like more of a sibling to me than any of the others. A soul sister, of sorts.
“Good morning,” Sophie greets, spotting me first.
“Oh hey girl, you’re up,” says Liz, brightly.
“Hi, yeah.” There is no sign of Hank. I notice his cowboy hat is absent from the hatrack by the front door so I assume he’s already had his coffee and started his workday. “Good morning, family.”
“How’d you sleep?” Marjorie asks.
“Really good, thank you.” I take a seat at the breakfast table with the sisters.
“How does everyone want their eggs?”
“Over easy for me,” Sophie chirps.
“Me too, please,” Liz replies.
That is my least favorite way to eat eggs and I almost cave or completely embarrass myself by asking for mine to be scrambled instead. But then I remember. “Oh, uh, I guess I didn’t tell you? Chasen is picking me up for breakfast.” Awkwardness averted, thanks to Chasen.
“How nice, honey!”
“Yeah, it’s really thoughtful of him. He said he’d show me around the town.”
“That is a wonderful gesture,” Marjorie says.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
As Marjorie cracks the eggs into the pan, an awkward silence folds in on the kitchen. Sophie and Liz aren’t even returning to their lively conversation they were having earlier. I bet they aren’t sure how to include me and I’d just feel left out, which they don’t want to happen either. The politeness is thoughtful of them but it also makes my heart split unevenly.
Wouldn’t it be nice if it could be easy? Thoughtless? If we didn’t worry about hurting each other’s feelings—like regular sisters?
Why do I suddenly care so much? I didn’t even want to come here, initially.
It’s just, they share such a palpable connection built on a lifetime of shared experiences that I have never, ever been a part of, and witnessing it…well it makes me ache. I’m not even close like that with my three big brothers. Because sisters are just different. Because girls get it.
I start to worry that Chasen forgot about our breakfast.
As I wait for him in the audible quiet, I feel tears beginning to swirl in the back of my throat. I swallow them down. I look up, down, away. All over. Dangit, this sucks. I was fine before. Fine. Now I want what theyhave.
And I want him. Against all of my voices of reason, I want Chasen’s strong, protective arms wrapped around me. I want to snuggle him up in his cabin. I want to hear his voice turned way down low, close, only for me. I picture us riding off in the sunset together. In the country.
