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“Did you just come here to talk about knocking?” her dad asked with a smirk.
“No, I need a few things. Again. And I want to borrow some of my volleyball tapes. More than just senior year,” she added so she could see Hazel again, see if she really yelled at her friend all the time.
“Going to review your career before coaching?” her dad asked and followed her through the house to the bedroom area.
“No, not really. I talked to Hazel today, and she said I yelled at her a lot.” She grabbed the things she needed from her bedroom. Her dad was in his office next door.
Her dad appeared in the door holding a box of little disks. “I can tell you right now you did. Did you want to see it?”
Tentatively, she took the box from his arms, his words worrying her. Did he think she was a bad person too? She was afraid she was going to see how bad she was. “I need to know. I don’t remember it that way.”
Turning, her dad led her to his office. Grabbing a few more discs off the shelf behind him, she wondered how many hours of her life had actually been recorded. But she knew it was a lot. He added the disked to the box and said, “You’ll want to watch these too.”
“Am I?” she wondered out loud.
“Maybe. Your choice.” Her dad gave her a quick hug.
“Thanks, Dad. Thanks for recording my life so I can just review it at any moment. The good and bad.” Giving him a one-armed hug back, she knew she was about to see the bad. And sadly, at the time, it had felt like it was so good.
“I wouldn’t change it for the world, even if you hated me for doing it,” he admitted as they went back to the kitchen. “Do you want to stay for supper?”
“No, Sam’s probably making something for us already. Is it weird yet, Sam and I?”
“Sam and me, sweetheart.” Her dad smiled at his grammar joke. “No, not weird. I like him, and I like him for you. What do you think of Faith and me?”
“I’m just happy for you. You deserve to be happy.” She smiled at him.
“That’s how I feel about you and Sam. I can see he makes you happy.” Her dad pulled open the sliding door for her.
“Happier than I thought possible not that long ago.” She kissed his cheek as she left the house.
“That’s what I’ve always wanted for you. Someone who makes you happy.” He closed the door.
Back across the yards, she slipped through Sam’s back door. As she closed it, she wondered if she would have to shovel a path through the snow to her dad’s house in the winter. But she knew she gladly would. Kicking off her shoes, she dropped the box on the coffee table and went to change clothes, bringing the few personal items she took from her room with her.
Putting the items away, she slipped out of her work clothes and hung them up, then dressed in some leggings and a T-shirt before going back to the living room. Sam was still missing, so she wondered if she could head back to her dad’s later for a meal. That would be far easier than her making something.
Setting her phone on the coffee table, she saw he had sent her a text she had missed that he was at the grocery store. Since she had a few minutes, she put a movie in the DVD player. Volleyball against Campbell, their biggest rival when she was a junior. There she was. The camera was focused on her most of the time, but it would sometimes catch Hazel or Hanna as they were playing. Except for the numbers on their backs, they were indistinguishable. They looked so much alike. It was before Hazel had cut her hair off, and they were styled the same.
But almost from minute one, she heard herself yelling at her teammates. Pointing out their errors and showing her disappointment in them. Never did she congratulate, always just negative. As if she hadn’t made a single mistake in her life.
Tired of watching herself yelling at the people she missed so much, she removed the disk and replaced it with another. Not sports this time, since she knew now how bad of a person she was. This time it was a dance video—whatever that was.
The moment she saw the three of them on the screen, she knew what dance. It was junior prom, her only prom. Her date had been Henry while Hanna went with a boy from a neighboring town, and Hazel hadn’t gone at all. But she did spend the day helping the other two get ready. Just trying to be involved as best she could.
Natalie remembered the pink dress she had to have. Nothing else would do. Hanna was in red, but she barely remembered that. Hazel was in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt that was Henry’s since it was cold in North Dakota in early April.
Her dad had recorded some of their getting ready. Natalie and Hanna were chatting about what fun the dance was going to be and who was going to be there. Including a few barbs at Hazel for not going, not being able to find a date. Then they spent some time just talking about what Hazel had to do to get a date: loosen up, grow up, be more outgoing, be more like them.
Sitting alone on the couch, she wanted to yell at her younger self that it was easy for her to say, she had just started dating her best friends’ brother, no big risk. Hanna was no better. She had only gone out with that guy three times for that dance and never again afterward. From the couch, she could see how the words had hurt Hazel. Now, seven years later, Natalie could see how her words hurt those she loved.
From the couch, she watched herself finish getting ready for the dance, getting in her car, the one from the accident, with Henry, Hanna, and a guy she couldn’t even remember the name of. The group was all smiles, but instead of focusing on them, she watched Hazel getting into her car in the background, going home alone.
Jumping up, she took out the disk. She couldn’t watch anymore. Dropping it in the box, she saw the next one was labeled Graduation. Picking it up, she slid it into the player and watched Hazel May graduate from high school. Sure, she knew everyone who graduated that day, but she only saw Hazel.
On the screen was not the shy, quiet girl from school, but nor was it the Hazel she had talked to today. In front of her was a shell of those versions. Her hair was cut short, not as short as now, but no longer just barely touching her shoulders like she had been wearing for years. Shorter than Natalie had seen ever seen it. The cut was terrible, and Natalie was sure that no stylist had been involved. Her once-bright eyes were sunken, her skin looked gray, and the orange gown did nothing to make her look any better.
Hazel had said she missed a lot of school that year and that Sam had helped her get her diploma signed. She could see why. The person on the screen was barely alive.
