by S. Bennett
Breaking the seal, I pull out a handwritten letter from Oley. It’s in print as that was how Oley wrote. It appears shakier than normal, but isn’t a struggle to read.
Dear Hazel,
You know I’m a man who has difficulty coming out and saying what’s in my heart. But I couldn’t leave you back here on earth without telling you something very important.
I love you.
I love that hellion of a dog, too, and will always be thankful to Atticus for bringing us all together.
With that said, I have a few things for you. My lawyer will be reaching out to all my heirs soon, which includes you.
I’m leaving you the farm. The reason I’m telling you this now in a letter rather than face to face before I died is because I knew you’d argue with me about it, and I don’t like arguing with you. I’ve also set up an account for you, in which I put the money Marsha paid me for the practice. You deserve that because you’re the one who helped me build up a business that was actually worth something.
I’m sorry if you catch any wrath from Tara and Cameron about this. They aren’t going to be happy I’ve left these things to you, but I’ve given them all my life insurance so they can’t quibble too much. Besides… I knew who would be sitting by my side when I died.
Hazel… you’ve been such a blessing and a joy to me. It’s with great meaning when I tell you that I considered you to be my daughter in all ways.
Tell the gang I love them, and how much I appreciate the way they all rallied around me these last few months. Keep Friday night baseball and pizza a tradition. That’s now a family thing that you own.
Lastly, after you finish this letter, I’m sure you’ll have a good cry. But then no more tears for me. I’m ready, and I don’t fear where I’m going.
Love,
Oley
The words blur as I go ahead and have my good cry. Atticus shifts his head to put it on my lap. My fingers go to his fur, and I let it all out.
When the tears dry up, I look back down at the letter again and see there’s a postscript.
P.S. I foresee a beautiful and happy relationship between you and Jack. I can’t wait to see my “grandkids” from heaven above.
I burst out laughing, pulling the letter to my chest where I hug his words to me.
CHAPTER 53
Hazel
We say our final goodbyes to Oley on a mid-August Saturday morning. There was no big church affair or tearful farewell over a grave. Instead, we spread his ashes over his beloved pet cemetery, which represented the type of man he was.
The turnout is a little overwhelming. It is the most beautiful type of validation of how loved and revered he was. When we posted his obituary and invited all friends to join us in a remembrance celebration at the farm, we invited humans and pets alike. There were almost as many animals as there were people who came to pay their last respects.
The gathering at the pet cemetery is informal. Cameron speaks of his father as best he can, but sadly… he really didn’t know the man Oley had grown to be later in life. Bernard also speaks about his friend, about the Oley that I knew. He gets choked up several times, but I adhere to Oley’s wishes and don’t cry for him anymore.
Instead, I let myself be filled with the light and peace the man gave to me when he left this world.
When he left me a better person for knowing him.
After Bernard finishes, Tara does the honor of sprinkling his ashes. Her daughter Abigail, who has an incredibly lovely voice, sings one of Oley’s favorites, Amazing Grace. That song never fails to make goose bumps prickle along my skin.
The short ceremony complete, I invite everyone up to the farmhouse where I had the foresight to have some food catered. This was probably unnecessary because practically everyone showed up with food, which is a very southern thing.
What I like best as I mill around and talk to people is there’s a lot of laughter going on. People telling their best Oley stories, and I know that’s exactly how he would have wanted this to be.
I glance over at Jack. He’s got Atticus by his side, holding tightly to his leash. While he’s being such a good boy today, because I think he truly understands what’s going on just by reading the heaviness of emotion here today, Jack’s not taking any chances that my dog will break away and do something crazy.
Jack has been a rock. My personal strong pillar to lean against.
As Oley had said would happen, his lawyer did in fact reach out to me as well as Tara and Cameron. I guess timing was of the essence because his wishes for cremation were within his estate documents, as well as how he was dividing his assets among his loved ones.
Tara was not happy about me getting the farm. Surprisingly, Cameron had pulled me aside this morning and told me he was happy about it. He knew I’d care for and love this place in ways he and his sister wouldn’t. He even admitted that had they been left the farm, he was sure they would have sold it for the money since their lives were established away from here.
Regardless of his kind words, Tara felt the need to deliver some unkind words to me about it. Unfortunately for her, Jack happened to be standing beside me when she approached, and he gave her a very subtle but pointed dressing down that made her snap her mouth shut. She’s been polite but distant since then, and that works for me.
My mom comes up beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. I lean my head on her shoulder.
“You okay, baby?” she asks softly.
“Actually, I am,” I reassure her. She’s not begrudged my sorrow or the strong relationship I had with Oley, especially since it had become more than what I was ever lucky enough to have with my dad.
She knows what I know deep in my heart.
God gave me Oley as my second chance. He gave me another father to guide me and love me.
Oley didn’t say he loved me until the letter I’d read after he died. And that was fine. I always knew it because Oley was more about the action over the word.
But I didn’t hesitate to tell Oley my feelings. I told him I loved him on that very first day he got the cancer diagnosis, and every day thereafter. He was so cute about it at first, sort of grunting and then stammering with embarrassment.
After that, my words would just make him smile with a special sparkle in his eyes. Usually, his response was a hug or a squeeze to my hand.
It was beautiful, and it was perfectly enough for me.
My gaze sweeps across the yard, and I spy Bernard over at the fence looking over the cow pasture. He’s got his forearms resting across the top of one of the posts as he leans his weight against it, one leg crossed over the other.
“I’m going to go talk to Bernard,” I tell my mom.
She gives me a squeeze and releases me.
It’s difficult maneuvering over turf in high heels, and I know to anyone watching, I probably look ridiculous.
When I reach Bernard’s side, I slip my arm around his waist. He startles for a moment, turning his head my way. When he sees it’s me, he gives me a bright smile and pushes off the post to put his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me in close, and we stare out over the rolling green hills for a long silent moment.
He looks great today. Tyrone lent him one of his suits. He shaved and got a haircut, although I know Oley wouldn’t have cared how he dressed.
“Your words were lovely, Bernard,” I tell him.
“From the heart, Hazel,” he replies gruffly. “Can never go wrong when they come from that place.”
I smile, leaning my head onto his shoulder. “You were such a dear friend to him. You enriched his life so much. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” he says softly. “He gave it back tenfold, though.”
A tiny laugh bubbles up inside of me. “Just think about what a trio we made. A cranky old veterinarian, a worthless bartender, and a homeless guy.”
Bernard chuckles, but his voice is tender when he says, “You were never worthless, Hazel.”
“Maybe not to you and Oley, but I
was to myself.”
“Well, I hope you know what you meant to that ol’ coot,” Bernard says as he releases his hold on me to turn to me. “You made his life a very happy one, if only for a few years.”
“I’m glad,” I say. For the first time today, I can feel the threat of tears. An overwhelming longing for Oley hits me, and I have to fight it back.
Bernard glances over his shoulder at the farmhouse, at the multitudes of people and animals standing around. Eating, drinking, and laughing.
“Quite the turnout,” he murmurs.
“Yup,” is all I say as I take it all in.
“I’ll help you clean up after everyone leaves.”
“You’re a dear, sweet man, and I’ll take you up on it.”
“Let’s head back,” he says as he clasps my hand in his. “There’s apparently socializing we need to be doing.”
My responding laugh is all he gets. We walk in silence for a bit, Bernard letting me lean on him as my heels sink into the soft ground.
Just before we reach the edge of the crowd, he leans his head toward me and asks, “We on for pizza and baseball Friday?”
“You betcha,” I reply.
♦
I yawn as I walk Tyrone and Bernard to the door. Carina had left with the kids long ago while we cleaned up. Tara, Cameron, and their broods also took off for Raleigh and Charlotte even though I begged them to stay, but I think ultimately it was awkward for them to sleep in a home that wasn’t theirs anymore.
Hard hugs are exchanged, and I get an extra kiss on the cheek from Bernard. I lock the front door before heading back into the kitchen. I find Jack wiping down the kitchen counters. Atticus is on the floor, sound asleep. He doesn’t even open his eyes when I walk in.
Jack glances at me, gives me a big smile, and goes back to running the wet cloth over the granite surface.
“I’m tired,” I say as I blow a breath out. After I pull a chair away from the table, I sit down heavily.
“It’s been a long day,” he replies, turning to the sink and draping the cloth over the faucet.
He turns back around, tucking his hands in his pockets. Jack is a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy, and it’s the way I prefer him. But I have to say he looks mighty damn fine in a suit. He’s currently got the jacket and tie hanging on the knob of the back door.
“What are your plans tomorrow?” he asks.
“Charmin and Shane are going to come out to hang for a bit before they head back to Raleigh.”
“Need your baby fix, don’t you?” Jack asks with a knowing twinkle in his eye.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask. Charmin just had the baby—a girl named Felicity—two weeks ago. I hadn’t been able to see her before the funeral. What with Oley becoming bedridden and then dying.
“Well, you did pay more attention to the baby than you did Atticus today, so that says something.”
From deep within his slumber, Atticus hears his name and raises his head, looking around blearily. I tell him honestly, “You’ll always be my number-one baby, buddy.”
This seems to satisfy him, and his head drops back down. His eyes close, and he’s out.
“What are you plans the day after then?” Jack asks. “And if you’re doing something then, what about the day after?”
“What are you getting at?” I ask with a smile.
“I’m trying to ask you out on our first official date.” His grin is charmingly devilish, and it makes me ridiculously happy.
I don’t let him know that, though. Instead, I cock an eyebrow. “You do understand, don’t you, that we’ve been out to dinner many times as well as the movies? I think we’ve already had a date.”
Jack shakes his head. “Those weren’t dates. They were friendship outings.”
“What’s the difference?”
“We’ll be having our first kiss after our first date,” he says smugly. “That’s the difference.”
“Oh,” I murmur, feeling my cheeks flush. “In that case, the day after tomorrow I’m totally free.”
“And hopefully the days after that.” His eyes are soft and yearning as he searches my face for the answer.
“And all the days after that.”
EPILOGUE
Atticus
“Love isn’t something you find. Love is something that finds you.”
—Loretta Young
Three years later…
My body is getting weary and my bones are aching, which is why my favorite place to rest is right here on the couch with Hazel. Of course, we have to share space with Jack, but that’s okay. Next to Hazel, he’s my favorite human, just barely edging Bernard out—only because Jack lives with us and sneaks me food all the time.
I’m curled into a circle with my head pressed against Hazel’s hip. I can’t put it on her lap because it’s huge now… like there’s a big round ball inside. It’s not a ball, but a tiny human she’s carrying around.
Jack sits on the other side of Hazel, with a big book spread out across his lap. Hazel’s leaning against him looking at it, but she has one hand buried deep in the fur at my neck to give me rubs.
“Oh my gosh,” Hazel says with a laugh as she points at a picture in the book. I don’t bother raising my head to see. I’m too comfortable. “Remember when you took that picture at the Grand Canyon?”
Jack laughs. “It was the most perfectly timed picture ever.”
Okay, curiosity gets the better of me. I lift my head up, stretching my neck. Jack holds the book up so I can see. “Remember that, Atti?”
I do indeed. Me sitting beside Hazel when we visited the Grand Canyon. She was laughing at something Jack said. I was sleepy because we’d been hiking all day, and I was in the middle of a huge yawn. When Jack took the picture, it looked like Hazel and I were laughing in sync at something the both of us found funny.
Those were some good days, although there’s no way I’d have the stamina to go on another grand adventure like we did then.
After Oley died, Hazel took an opportunity to write for a travel blog that was focused on traveling with pets. For an entire year, Hazel, Jack, and I traveled around the United States together. Jack’s father watched the store, and Marsha assured Hazel she’d survive without her at the clinic.
We saw everything there was to see. My favorite was the places that had snow for me to romp around in.
I think Hazel’s favorite was on the beach in California where Jack proposed to her. He had the ring in a box tied to my collar, but then I got too excited and chased after a seagull with the ring still tied to me. I’ve never heard Jack yell so loud as when he chased me, or Hazel laugh so hard.
“Ouch,” Hazel exclaims, and I go on high alert with my ears perked forward. I stare at her intently, waiting for her to tell me her troubles so I can solve them.
She rubs the lower part of her belly with a laugh. “That kid is going to be a soccer star.”
Oh… okay. Just the tiny human moving around inside of her. No biggie as that happens a lot lately.
I’m sure Hazel and Jack are aware, but I know that baby is going to be making an appearance very soon.
It’s a special baby, too. They worked long and hard to get it. Hazel had to see the doctor a lot. Even had to get a lot of shots in her legs and stomach and butt. Jack helped give them to her, and I provided the doggie Xanax fix each time because she’s scared of needles. She once told me after one of her shots that the baby was a team effort, and she couldn’t have done it without me.
That made me proud.
I’m not sure how I feel about the little human, though. Deep down, I know it will take Hazel away from me. Not completely, but to a great extent.
What I also know within my soul is this will make Hazel happier than anything has ever made her in her existence. Happier than even me.
I’ve pondered this for months, and I finally figured out this is okay by me. It’s a sacrifice I’ll gladly make for her.
After all, I’m pretty sure I was put on this
earth for the sole purpose of making Hazel who she’s supposed to be. When the tiny human is born, Hazel will have completed her journey.
Then my work here is done.
About the Author
S. Bennett is the pen name for New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Sawyer Bennett.
Under the name S. Bennett, Sawyer writes general, young adult and women’s fiction stories that deal with the realities we face on a daily basis such as love, loss, personal growth and all things in between. She tackles difficult issues with grace, while adding her signature humor along the way. Because Sawyer is a romance writer at heart, you’re likely to find a love story within each of her books, though it’s not always a guarantee.
When she isn’t writing as S. Bennett, she’s writing contemporary romance as Sawyer Bennett, and sweet romance under the name Juliette Poe.
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