“That’s all you have to read?” Hazel asked.
“Yeah. I lost most of my books a long time ago. I’ve never got more. I don’t read so great anyway.”
“I have an entire library. You’re welcome to borrow any book you’d like.”
“I’d bet they’re too smart for the likes of me,” Carolyn half-heartedly joked.
“I doubt that,” Hazel seriously replied.
Quietly, the women smiled at each other. They left it at that and fell into a comfortable stillness. Hazel hummed to herself while Carolyn watched the fields roll by the window. It was wonderful just being near each other.
As usual, the day went by too quickly. The man had the parts that Carolyn needed, and he was kind enough to give them a good deal. Carolyn was sure that it was because Hazel was such a beautiful woman. Not because the man was feeling generous.
At Hazel’s farm, Carolyn placed the car parts neatly beneath the car so that nothing would happen to them. Then, it was time for Carolyn to go. Otherwise, she wouldn’t finish her chores by the time that her husband got home. The women always hated to say farewell.
“Well, I’ll see about coming out here on Monday for a few hours. Shouldn’t take but a day or two now,” Carolyn said.
“No hurry,” Hazel repeated. “So…I’ll see you at church tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there. Then I’ll be gone just as quick.”
“I wish I could be. The townspeople are going to kidnap me again, I bet. They want to know every detail of my life.”
“That’s why I run out the door. They can’t know what happens,” Carolyn said.
She didn’t realize that she had said it with force. Hazel noticed, but Hazel didn’t want to call attention to it. Not yet. So, she nodded. “I’ll be at the church whenever Rodger comes along. I’m looking forward to our next make-believe musical number.”
“Me too. Until then?”
“Until then,” Hazel confirmed.
Carolyn went on her way. Hazel looked at her broken car, sighing. She was grateful for Eugene’s cheapness. That car changed her life. It still would.
Eleven
At church, Hazel sat with Carolyn once again. They took turns keeping each other awake, and they dramatically pretended to sing with every song. It was easy for Hazel, given that she knew how to sing. It was even easier for Carolyn. She had years of experience when it came to the art of acting. Her entire life was an act.
After the service, Carolyn said hello and goodbye. Hazel was led to the back room by Mrs. Bean, and Mrs. Gable was ready with the sewing supplies. Unhappily, Hazel had to deal with more women this time. Mrs. Sadey and Mrs. Mare were chomping at the bit to hear about Hazel’s life. But, Hazel was ready to put on a show this time.
“So, I’m here all alone. That is how it should be. This is my fiancé’s dream, and—as a respectable wife-to-be—I must do what I can to make his dreams realities,” Hazel said as convincingly as possible.
Mrs. Sadey, an old woman with a saggy face, placed a hand over her heart. “What a darling! You are just the sweetest.”
“Yes. You’ll make a fine wife,” Mrs. Mare, a woman with tall hair, hummed.
“You must be just dying to get to the wedding,” Mrs. Gable said.
Hazel didn’t break character. “Oh, that’s hardly the word for it.”
“How did you know?” Mrs. Bean asked.
“How did I know what, Mrs. Bean?” Hazel asked in return.
“That he was the one that you love. The one that will be the father of your children. The one that you’re going to spend forever with,” Mrs. Bean clarified.
Love. Father of your children. Spend forever. Hazel’s neck twitched while her expression faltered. Mrs. Bean was watching for this. She had a feeling that something wasn’t right the moment that Hazel opened her mouth. Mrs. Bean didn’t take kindly to falsehoods.
“I knew I loved him from the moment I saw him,” Hazel said as she feigned a loving grin.
“That’s how it was with Joseph and me,” Mrs. Deanwood blushed.
“Oh, look at the time! My husband needs this room for that townhall meeting. We better clear out, girls,” Mrs. Gable said.
Hazel gave her sewing materials to Mrs. Gable and made a run for it. She failed to remember that she didn’t have a ride home. She only knew that she wanted to get away from those women. Walking six miles to her farm sounded far better than riding with any of the busybodies. So, that is what she intended to do.
However, she hit a roadblock just when she left the church. It was Ronnie Richardson. He had arrived to attend the townhall meeting. It was reserved for only the most influential people in Debarr, and he was the only Richardson available to appear that day. He was very glad that he’d caught Hazel.
Ronnie stepped in front of her when she tried to walk around him. “Hello, Hazel. Where are you going?”
“Home. Excuse me,” she curtly responded.
“Without a car?” he asked, stepping in front of her again.
“I have legs. I like to use them.”
“You do have legs…” he trailed off.
She hated the way that he eyed her. “I don’t appreciate the way that you’re looking at me.”
“I don’t like how you’re looking on me either. I’m a nice guy, you know.”
“No, I can’t say that I know that.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’d skip this meeting to take you home even though it’s important.”
Mrs. Deanwood came through the church doors. She was oblivious to the scene before her. “Ms. Mayer, you’re still here. Good. I remembered that you don’t have a car. Would you like to come to my house for tea or coffee? It isn’t much, but it’d be nice to have company for a change.”
“Why, yes, that sounds lovely,” Hazel responded. She glanced at Ronnie. “I do hate to cut things short, but I must go. Goodbye, Mr. Richardson.”
“Oh, hello, Mr. Richardson. Have a great day,” Mrs. Deanwood said.
Ronnie observed as the women got into the car. In his life, he had yet to encounter a single woman who was immune to his boyish charm. Most women would swoon whenever he walked into a room. Now, he found a woman that wouldn’t bat an eyelash. He saw this as a challenge. Hazel Mayer would love him in the end, Ronnie believed. Or else.
*-*-*-*
Although it was mostly a way to escape Ronnie, Hazel didn’t mind spending time with Mrs. Deanwood. She was right when she said that the house wasn’t much. It was more of a cottage, but there was a large barn. It functioned as a medical center when Mr. Deanwood was home. Without him in town, they had no doctor. Hazel was perturbed when she heard that.
“He didn’t want to go. That didn’t matter, though. He was drafted anyway,” Mrs. Deanwood said. Smiling gloomily, she pointed to a photograph of her husband. “My Joseph.”
“He looks like a nice man,” Hazel replied genuinely.
“The nicest. He’s always said that the only good thing about the war is that, when we win, it will make this world a better place for our children. We didn’t have a chance to start a family before he was called. I wish this world wasn’t such a cruel place. Too many people are getting taken away by drafts or bullets.”
“I agree,” Hazel honestly replied.
Mrs. Deanwood gestured to the back of her living room. There was a wardrobe tucked in the corner. “I escape all those bad things by reading. It helps to imagine other worlds.”
“I do the same thing. I love to read,” Hazel told her.
“You do? Finally, another woman who reads. Go look at my collection. Maybe we’ve read the same ones and we can talk about it. Help yourself to a cigarette. I’ll get some coffee. Unless you prefer tea?”
“Coffee would be lovely, thank you,” Hazel answered.
Once Mrs. Deanwood left to make the coffee, Hazel looked through her book collection. They did have several of the same books. Hazel relished the idea of having another bookworm in town. Even so, she was still somewhat suspicious of M
rs. Deanwood. She feared that the woman would report back to Mrs. Bean or Mrs. Gable, spreading Hazel’s information all over town.
“I see that you have Pride and Prejudice. That’s a favorite of mine,” Hazel mentioned to Mrs. Deanwood.
She handed Hazel a cup of coffee. “Mine too. I love Jane Austen.”
“She is wonderful. Are there any other avid readers in Debarr?”
Mrs. Deanwood hummed. “No. No, I don’t think so. Nobody I spend time with, at least.”
“So, not Mrs. Bean or Mrs. Gable?” Hazel began.
“Definitely not. They prefer gossip to books.”
Hazel posed the question. “Why do you spend time with them then?”
“I’m lonely mostly. And, it’s what you have to do around here. It’s all about reputation. The way that this town perceives you is everything. If it wasn’t that way, I wouldn’t be around those women.”
“You don’t have any other friends?”
“One moved out of the country to avoid her husband getting drafted. The other…well. They forced her out.”
That peaked Hazel’s curiosity. “Forced her out?”
“She got pregnant a few months ago, but she wasn’t married. They persecuted her until she couldn’t take the way they treated her anymore. She still writes me, but that’s all. Like I said, it’s reputation. You best be careful around Mrs. Bean and the others.”
“Thank you for the warning. I’ll remember that.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about. You’ll fit right in. It’ll be even better when your soldier comes home. I’m looking forward to meeting him,” Mrs. Deanwood sounded too upbeat for Hazel’s liking.
“Yes,” Hazel dryly answered. “Shall we discuss the book?”
They began their discussion. Both found it entertaining and intriguing. It was obvious that they could become friends. Mrs. Deanwood was sad to see Hazel go, but Hazel needed to get home. It wasn’t too long of a drive from Mrs. Deanwood’s house.
After saying goodnight, Hazel walked into her living room. Her mind began to unravel at the sight of Eugene’s things. Forever. Forever. Forever. The word continued to repeat. Eugene forever, Hazel, she thought. Disgust, horror, anguish—it festered within her.
She grabbed a fragile lamp that rested upon a table. It was something Eugene had packed. In a powerful motion, she threw it against the wall. That was just the start. She frantically ran around the house, destroying anything that was his. When she reached a picture of him, she slammed it against a doorframe. She ignored how the shards of glass cut sharply into her hands.
Exhausted, she slid down the wall and rested among the debris. This was what her life had become. She saw no way out.
Twelve
Carolyn arrived to work on Hazel’s car the following morning. She was somewhat surprised to see that Hazel was sitting on the porch. A mug of hot coffee rested between her hands. They had several scratches on them, which Carolyn noticed immediately. She jogged towards Hazel.
“Good morning,” Carolyn called.
Hazel sleepily greeted her. “Good morning.”
“Are you all right?” Carolyn tenderly asked.
“Me? I’m fine. I didn’t sleep much is all. Would you like some coffee? It’s fresh. I’m sure you could use a boost before getting to work out here,” Hazel offered.
Carolyn accepted. She followed Hazel to her kitchen. Along the way, she noticed traces of broken glass on the floor. The corner of a photograph’s frame jutted out from beneath the sofa. As hard as she tried, Hazel had done a poor job of cleaning up the night before. She spent most of the night sitting against the wall, softly crying.
In the kitchen, Carolyn observed as Hazel reached into her cupboard for another mug. Carolyn had a clear view of the shallow scratches. Concern gripped her. “Hazel, what happened to your hands?”
“Hmm? Oh, my hands? Nothing. I mean, I dropped a lamp when I was moving it. It broke. I was scratched when I was cleaning up the pieces.”
Carolyn knew what it felt like to lie about injuries. She could spot that sort of lie from a mile away. “That’s what happened?”
“Yes. That’s what happened. Do you take milk and sugar in your coffee?” Hazel asked.
“Just milk. Not too much of it,” Carolyn answered. She moved forward. “If you ever want to talk to somebody about things, I can be real good at listening.”
“I’m fine, Carolyn. Is this enough milk?”
Hazel carefully poured milk into Carolyn’s mug. Carolyn nodded. “Yeah. That’s good.”
“Good. So…the car. Do you have everything you need? Do you need an assistant at all?”
“I’ve got it, thank you. I should be able to get half done today and half done tomorrow.”
“All right. I’m going to make that iced tea later. Maybe you can stay around to have a glass.”
“I’d like that. I best get started. Thank you for the coffee. I promise I won’t get grease in your mug.”
Hazel laughed for the first time in over twenty-four hours. “Great. That’s an expensive mug.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I know. You do a good job of taking care of things,” Hazel began to smile. And people, Hazel wanted to add.
Carolyn’s cheeks burned with bashfulness. “I’ll start on that car now.”
While Carolyn left the house to work on the car, Hazel sat in her living room. She gazed at her books, trying to remember which novels Mrs. Deanwood had. She could use another intellectual discussion for certain. A particular title caught Hazel’s attention. Sense and Sensibility. She enjoyed the love story, and love stories made her think about Carolyn. Carolyn did say that she didn’t have much to read.
Hazel took Sense and Sensibility from her bookshelf. Carolyn was deep into the engine when Hazel brought the book into the kitchen. She began to make the iced tea while she flipped through a few pages. Something told her that Carolyn needed a romantic escape as badly as she did.
There was a knock at the door. Carolyn was tapping against the wood with the toe of her boot. One hand was black with grease and oil while the other held the empty mug. She had wrapped it in a rag to keep it clean. Hazel had to smirk when she opened the door. Together they went to the kitchen.
Carolyn set the mug on the counter. “Here you go. No grease.”
“I see that. You’re a woman who keeps her word,” Hazel replied.
“Or tries to,” Carolyn muttered. Promptly, she turned to the sink. “I’ll just scrub down real quick and get going.”
“The tea?” Hazel asked.
“Right. I’ll have some.”
“All right.”
Silence came. It was somewhat awkward, but it was not because they felt uncomfortable around each other. It was because the kitchen was an intimate space. Carolyn had trouble keeping her eyes off Hazel’s form, and Hazel had to swallow her desire to accidentally fall into Carolyn’s arms. The quiet air began to breathe again.
“Here’s your glass,” Hazel stated.
Carolyn took it from her. Delicately, she sipped. “It’s perfect. The coffee was too.”
“Thank you. I brought some coffee grounds with me from Boston. I tried the coffee from Elmer’s store yesterday when I was with Mrs. Deanwood. It’s not bad, actually. But, Boston still tastes better.”
“More time in the sewing circle?” Carolyn asked.
“I went to her house for awhile afterwards. It was mostly to escape Ronnie Richardson, but I like Mrs. Deanwood. We have a few things in common. As it turns out, she loves books like I do. We had a rousing conversation about Pride and Prejudice.”
Carolyn was happy to hear that Hazel was making friends. “That’s nice. I’m glad you found somebody to spend time with.”
“Do you know much about her? I can’t help being somewhat suspicious when everybody in town seems to enjoy rumors,” Hazel returned.
“I don’t know much about her. She’s way after my time. I’ve been married longer than she’s bee
n alive. Longer than you’ve been alive,” Carolyn said. The age difference popped into her mind once again.
It didn’t occur to Hazel. “I’ll just be cautious around her, then. We’ll stick to books and nothing else. That reminds me. I have a book for you.”
“For me?”
“No, for the other you,” Hazel teased. “It’s one of my favorites. Do you know Jane Austen?”
“I’m guessing that’s the gal that wrote the book. That’s all I know.”
“She’s known for her romance novels. They’re classics. I thought that you might like something to read other than fairytales.”
Carolyn took the book from Hazel as if it could shatter. “Does this book end with happily-ever-after?”
“Would you want me to spoil the story?”
Smiling, Carolyn opened the cover. She read the first paragraph, to the best of her ability. Her smile contorted into a frown. “Hazel, these are big words for a woman like me.”
“I have an idea,” Hazel hummed. She went through a drawer until she found a pencil. She held it out for Carolyn. “Just underline or circle anything you don’t know. Then, we’ll talk about it.”
“I won’t be as smart as Mrs. Deanwood. You should leave the talking to her.”
“Carolyn—”
“And I’d ruin your pencil. It’d get worn down or broke after all the underlining I’d be doing.”
“Stop, Carolyn. You really should believe in yourself. You’re far more wonderful than you think you are.”
Carolyn sighed. She had never heard someone say that. At least, not since her family had died. It was enough to make Carolyn nod. “All right. I’ll read it.”
“Great. I hope you like it.”
“If you did, I will. Thank you,” Carolyn whispered.
“Of course,” Hazel whispered back.
The intimate kitchen was nagging at them once more. They were one step away from pressing against one another. Carolyn felt like reaching out with a deft hand to tuck Hazel’s hair behind her ear. Hazel wanted to lightly run her fingertips down Carolyn’s spine. Then, their foreheads would rest upon one another. They would refuse to move.
The Way We Are Page 6