Free at last - Box Set

by Annie Stone

  “I’m sorry,” I say as calmly as I can, which is not easy when a screaming old hag is making your daughter cry. “I’m leaving now, but I would be grateful if you could reconsider whether you really want to put Hunter’s recovery at risk just to teach me a lesson. Please.” I pick up Hazel and tug at Carey’s hand.

  Once we’re outside, he snorts angrily. “They can’t do that!”

  “Yes, they can,” I say. “But every crisis is an opportunity.”

  “What?”

  I nod. “How do you think Hunter reacted to Hazel?”

  Carey shrugs. “Positively.”

  “I think so, too. So maybe he’ll be willing to come back to San Diego once he hears we’re no longer allowed to come see him here.”

  Carey looks at me. “You’re a sly fox.”

  I shrug. “I want him home.”

  “Me too.”

  I hold my hand up, and Carey smiles as he gives me a high five.

  “Ice tream!” demands the two-year-old in my arms.

  “Okay, okay.”

  We drive to a nearby ice cream parlor, but my mind never strays from the hospital. When we’re seated, ice cream sundaes in hand, I say, “He wasn’t looking good.”

  “Yes, but his face lit up when he saw Hazel,” Carey says. “She’s his reason now. His reason to live.”

  I look out the window, unable to hide my sadness. The fact that Hunter wants our daughter doesn’t mean he wants me too. We’ve got a foot in the door, but that’s it. Just because I want a happy ending together doesn’t mean Hunter does, too. Maybe, in his mind, too much has happened. Maybe he’s no longer the man he was before his deployment to Afghanistan. He probably isn’t, actually. Experiences like that change you, change your view on things. Maybe he’s found a different path for himself.

  But I’m still glad he so obviously wants Hazel. I could see his infatuation, his determination to know her. It was so beautiful to witness. To be able to introduce my daughter to her father. That moment will always be in my top five favorite moments. So far, the list is only Hazel’s birth and that one night with Hunter. Technically speaking, I guess it’s a top three list, but I’m hoping to add more great moments with Hunter and Hazel…and maybe more children.

  Once again, I’m a hundred steps ahead of my reality.

  “Mac,” Carey says gently. “I don’t think you’re not a reason for him.” We’ve lived together too long. He can obviously read my mind. “He just thought he couldn’t have you anymore.”

  “Should we be worried he’ll try again?” I ask quietly while Hazel smears ice cream across the table and herself.

  “No, Mac,” Carey says. “No. I don’t think he really wanted to kill himself. It was a cry for help.”

  “Regardless, it’s not going to be easy.”

  He shrugs. “No, but who ever said the good things in life were easy to get?”

  “Mommy?” Hazel pipes up. “Daddy lite ice tream?”

  “Everybody likes ice cream.”

  She smiles. “Hazel happy.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Hazel has Daddy.”

  I stroke her head. “I’m happy you have Daddy, too.”

  She nods contentedly, scraping the bottom of her sundae dish with her little plastic spoon.

  Carey looks at me. “I’ll go see him tomorrow.”

  “Okay. But I don’t think we’ll get to see him while he’s under observation.”

  Carey grins. “We’ll see.”

  I roll my eyes. “Which one are you going to flirt with?”

  “The blond one who couldn’t keep you out today,” he says without hesitation.

  “Interesting choice.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “Don’t you think you might be a little overconfident here?”

  “Hey, doll, you know me. Nobody can resist my charm.”

  I shake my head with a smile. “Arrogant bastard.”

  “Bastard!” my little parrot croaks, and Carey laughs his ass off.

  The next day, we join Carey in the car, just in case Hunter was able to put us on his visitors’ list after all.

  “I’m sorry,” says the blond nurse Carey’s gunning for. “You need to leave, or I’ll have to call security.”

  I nod and turn to Carey. “You take Hazel.”

  “Really? What about the plan? If he thinks you two can’t visit…”

  I shake my head. “No. I want him to know he can see her whenever he wants, even if he and I are going to have a difficult relationship—or no relationship at all.”

  Carey nods and picks up Hazel. “Okay. Let’s go see Daddy.”

  Hazel claps her hands and cheers, and then they wave as they head through the double doors and down the hall. I feel horrible letting them go while I leave the hospital on my own.

  9

  Hunter

  “What do you want to talk about today?” Dr. Wilson asks in her best psychologist voice.

  “Hazel.”

  She frowns. “And who is that?”

  “My daughter,” I say, unable to prevent a proud smile from spreading across my face.

  Dr. Wilson’s eyebrows rise. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

  I smile a little. “Neither did I.”

  “Oh.”

  I’m still so excited when I think of Hazel. Mac has given me the greatest gift you could ever give to anyone. And she’s right—Hazel is my reason to live. But to know I have a child with Mac, that she and Carey have been trying all this time to tell me this, that she obviously didn’t get back together with Dad… Or did she?

  My mood shifts in an instant. She didn’t, right? God, I thought my feelings for her would fade one day, but now they’re stronger than ever.

  “Mac obviously heard about me trying to kill myself,” I explain.

  Dr. Wilson nods stoically.

  “So even though she’s on my blacklist, she just burst into my physical therapy session yesterday and put a little girl on my lap. She said it was my daughter.”

  “But you thought…?”

  “I, uh, I thought she was Carter’s kid,” I confess. “But it turns out she isn’t.”

  “Carter, your father?”

  I nod. “Yeah, that’s my dad.”

  “And is it indeed possible this child might be your daughter?” Dr. Wilson asks gently, obviously trying to be tactful.

  I nod. “Yes, there is. About three years ago, Mac and I spent one night together.”

  “While she was still with your father?”

  “Yes.”

  “So then couldn’t he be the child’s father?”

  I shake my head. “Mac wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t know herself,” Dr. Wilson points out.

  “We never had time to discuss it before,” I say, slightly annoyed. “Ever since that night, I’ve been successfully avoiding her. Whenever we saw each other, I made it clear to her I didn’t want to hear from her.

  Dr. Wilson squints at me. “What changed?”

  “I don’t know.” I sniff. “I guess she was scared I was actually going to kill myself.”

  “So”—Dr. Wilson twiddles her thumbs—“is it possible she made up this situation for that reason?”

  I shake my head. Mac wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t! “I trust her.” It takes me a moment, but I realize I mean that one hundred percent. “As strange as it sounds, Mac is one of only two people I always trust.”

  Dr. Wilson nods. “Then you should talk to her.”

  “I want to. I want to know everything now. But…”

  “But what?”

  “I asked them to take her off my blacklist, but they refused because she broke the rules barging in on my session yesterday. I was told she was lucky they didn’t sue her for it.”

  Dr. Wilson frowns. “I’ll see what I can do.” She looks down at the notepad in her lap and then squints back up at me. “So, Hunter, tell me what it was like holding your daughter.”

&n
bsp; “Incredible,” I say, not even trying to hide my smile. “She’s so cute and soft, and she called me daddy. It made me so happy to hear that word out of her mouth. Obviously, Mac’s told her a lot about me. I held her in my arms, and she snuggled up to me. I didn’t know two-year-olds could be such snuggle bugs!”

  Dr. Wilson smiles, too. “If Mac told her a lot about you, she must feel as though she knows you already.”

  “It was the most beautiful moment in my life. But it also led to the biggest sense of regret I’ve ever felt. I regret not listening to Mac before. Not being there when our baby was born. Not being there and stroking her pregnant belly. Not getting a chance to cut the umbilical cord. I regret every single day I haven’t spent with her. It’s eating me up inside. That I wasn’t there for her.”

  “There will always be things we would do different in hindsight. But what matters is that we do everything in our power not to make the same mistakes again.”

  I nod. “I don’t want to live without Hazel ever again.”

  “And Mac?”

  I shrug. “I want her. I love her so much, but…I…” I swallow. “How can she love me now that I’m so…imperfect?”

  “Hunter, you need to stop thinking your life is over just because you’ve lost a leg. It is not over. You are no less of a man now than you were before. You have gone through horrible times and survived them. You can overcome this obstacle, too. If you want to be with Mac, and if she wants to be with you, there’s no reason you shouldn’t be together.”

  “I can’t do that to her.”

  “She needs to decide for herself. She will be part of your life anyway if you want to take care of Hazel. So why not do it as a family—if Mac wants that, too?”

  “I…” Yes. That makes sense. So why am I still trying to push her away? “I’m scared,” I finally admit.

  Dr. Wilson is silent a moment. “Of what exactly?”

  I rub the back of my neck. “That she no longer finds me sexy. I know that’s totally superficial, but…”

  “It’s okay. Of course you’re scared of that. You’re still getting used to your prosthetic, and, yes, you look different now. But love and feelings are about more than a person’s looks. She doesn’t love you because she loves your hair, but because she loves you.”

  “But…”

  “Imagine the situation the other way around. Imagine she had lost her leg. Would you love her less?”

  I shake my head vehemently. And it feels like an entire lighting shop lights up in my head.

  “See? If she loves you, it’s not because you had two legs. Take things slow. Don’t rush it. Maybe you’ve both changed too much at this point, but maybe not. Don’t push her away. Give her a chance to make her own decisions.”

  “Maybe I’m scared of that, too. Of the fact that I’ve become a completely different person over the last three years, and she might not love me anymore.”

  “But what if she does?”

  The corners of my mouth twitch.

  After the session, I’m informed I have a visitor. It can only be Carey. I wonder whether he’s brought Hazel. Would Mac let her come see me alone? I hope so! I’ve been lying awake all night thinking about my little girl. I did the math and figured out she must have been born in January two years ago. She must be two years and one month now.

  I’ve never fallen in love with anybody so quickly. Not even with Mac. But Hazel… Hazel has stolen my heart. I’m so grateful to Mac for telling me, even though I tried to prevent her from telling me anything. Fuck, to think I was such an asshole when she came to see me in Germany! I’m so ashamed of myself.

  And she still came here to Virginia with my daughter. To give me this incredible gift.

  When I get to the visitors’ room, Hazel’s sitting at a table, drawing. Carey’s sitting next to her, joking around. She laughs, and my heart stings a little seeing them so close, but when she sees me, she calls, “Daddy!” and comes running toward me.

  “Hey, Hazel.” I beam at her. Since I’m not that comfortable with my prosthetic yet and I didn’t want to use crutches because then I couldn’t hold her in my arms, I’m in my wheelchair. She lifts her little arms, and my heart stops for a second before I pick her up and squeeze her.

  She giggles, touches my face with her tiny hands, and strokes my beard while planting a sloppy little kid kiss on my cheek. I’ve never felt anything better. I sit her down on my lap and try to get over to the table without letting her go.

  Laughing, Carey comes over to help us. “Hey, dude,” he says, hitting me on the good shoulder.

  “Hey, bro,” I say, and he grins.

  “Pitture for Daddy,” Hazel says, suddenly sounding all shy.

  I look at the picture on the table, and even though it’s just purple and blue scribbles, I praise it extensively. She beams when she hears that I like it. “I’ll put it on the wall next to my bed,” I promise.

  “Mac sent you something, too,” Carey says, handing me a paper bag.

  I reach in and pull out a framed picture of Hazel. It seems to be a picture of her birthday party. She’s squishing a cake, her mouth full of icing, laughing so hard my heart opens up.

  “She, uh, she’s captured every single day for you,” Carey says.

  I gape at him. “What?”

  “She’s taken pictures of Hazel every day, and videos, and recordings, and she’s written down what happened every single day. So that one day you could look at it all and not feel like you missed out on anything.”

  I’m speechless. Completely speechless. Well, almost. “Fuck.”

  “Fut! Fut! Fut!” Hazel squeals.

  Carey smiles. “You’ve just learned the first rule of fatherhood: you can’t keep using words like that in the presence of small children. They repeat everything.”

  My eyes widen. “Mac’s going to kill me.”

  Carey brushes my worry away. “Don’t be silly. She hasn’t killed me, and Hazel’s heard a lot of bad words from me. And, let’s face it, even Mac’s language is not impeccable.”

  “Fut!”

  Shaking my head, I have to laugh because this is so typical. The long-lost daddy appears and starts teaching his daughter bad language.

  Hazel wants to sit on her own chair, so I help her onto it. She starts a new drawing.

  “Carey,” I sigh. “Why did you never…?” And then I realize why.

  “You told me not to talk about Mac,” Carey says. “I wanted to tell you, but we… Mac and I were both so happy when you got in touch with me. I didn’t want to ruin that by breaking your rules. You would’ve run away again.”

  “But it would have changed everything,” I say helplessly.

  He nods. “I know. But you didn’t even read Mac’s emails. She wrote to you so many times, telling you all about Hazel…that I… I’m sorry.”

  “Why didn’t she say anything in Germany?”

  “You need to talk to her, Hunter. She’ll tell you everything, and you know it. I can only tell you that not a single day has passed that she didn’t think of you, talk about you. She left her toddler to go see you in Germany. I mean…doesn’t that tell you something?”

  My eyes drift to Hazel again. I can’t get enough of her. She’s such a miracle. With an expression of extreme focus on her face, she’s dedicating herself to drawing circles and lots of Hs on the paper.

  “I thought Mac…” I stop myself.

  “That she was with Dad?” Carey asks, and I nod. “No. She chose you that night. She never went back to him after that.”

  “But—”

  “Talk to her, Hunter. She can answer all your questions. I can’t.”

  “Sergeant Tilman.”

  I look up and see Dr. Wilson. “Ma’am?”

  “I talked to the charge nurse, but I’m afraid they’re not willing to make an exception.”

  My stomach sinks. “What does that mean?”

  “Ms. Hall is no longer allowed in the building.”

  “They can’t do that!�
�

  She raises her hands placatingly. “I’m sorry. I tried to convince them otherwise because I think it would be good for you to see her. But I was not successful.” She looks at Hazel. “Is this your daughter?”

  I never expected it, but a wave of fatherly pride surges through me. “Yes, this is Hazel.”

  Dr. Wilson smiles kindly. “Hi, Hazel.”

  Hazel doesn’t look at her, just slides across her chair, snuggling up to my leg—to my prosthetic. She clutches me with her little arms, and I stroke her head. I wouldn’t have thought she was shy because she wasn’t shy when she met me. Though, maybe she just didn’t get a chance—Mac plopped her in my lap.

  “Hazel?” I ask quietly. She looks up at me, and I see her bottom lip tremble a little. I guess she’s not so tough after all.

  Dr. Wilson smiles as Hazel presses her head against my leg. I give Carey a helpless look. He’s smiling but not moving.

  “Hazel, is everything okay?” I ask, and she nods. “Do you want to sit on my lap?” I ask, because I have no idea what she wants.

  She nods again, and I reach around her to pull her up. As soon as she’s sitting there, she snuggles up to me and looks at my therapist. “Hi,” she murmurs. “This is Daddy.”

  Dr. Wilson nods. “Yes, I know.” She kneels down. “I’m Camille. How are you doing?”

  “Dood. Haze’s drawin.”

  It’s astonishing to see how she’s suddenly not so shy anymore.

  “That’s a nice picture,” Dr. Wilson says, nodding at the table. “What is it?”

  Hazel bends down and pulls the paper closer. She points at a big, red scribble. “Daddy.” Then she points at a smaller, blue one. “Mommy.” Then a green one. “Ree.” And, finally, she points at a little yellow one. “Haze.”

  “Your family,” Camille observes.

  Hazel nods. “Yes. Daddy’s here.” She looks at me, and even though I haven’t studied her range of facial expressions that closely, I can see she looks content. I nudge her cheek with my finger like I’ve seen Carey do, and her entire face lights up. I can’t help but pull her closer. She climbs to her feet on my thighs, and her little hands touch my face, stroking my beard. She laughs quietly. “Pritly.”