Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
I thought about my dad, about his marriage with my mom, about the good times despite the sadness, and I knew she was right. Maybe I wouldn’t have a lot more time with my mom, but the moments she was given, wow…how spectacular.
“You’re right.” I pulled Hazel into my arms. “We all have our spiritual gifts. Hers was matchmaking.”
“And mine?” Hazel asked.
“Digging holes.”
“And yours?” She laughed.
“Standing by your side,” I whispered. “For as long as you’ll let me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Hazel
ONE YEAR LATER
Dear Hazel,
If you’re reading this, then that means I’m currently driving God to drink. Then again, water into wine, am I right? Anyway, I wanted to send you one last thing, and while I’m sitting here in this boring-as-hell room wondering when I’m gonna kick the bucket—high heels on, thank you very much—I figured I’d impart some wisdom on you.
The colors aren’t black and white. Sometimes, they’re gray. Other times, they’re red, pink, blue, or yellow, just like one scar never looks the same as another. The way the love around you fills, it shifts and changes. It grows.
You’ll have setbacks, you’ll have some of the best days of your life, followed by days where you want to crawl into the corner or scream into a pillow. Humans are like earthquakes waiting to happen. You know there could be damage, but you keep going, you keep fighting. And then if or when it does happen, you manage it, you fix it. You allow the cracks to fill, and you keep going, knowing it could happen again. But you become wiser for it.
Marriage is like that, Hazel. Wear lipstick for you, not just for him. Dress up at least once a week, even if it means you’re walking around your house by yourself. The three Ss never cease to solve all problems: a good shave, a shower, and sex—in whatever order you prefer. And at the end of the day, Hazel, my dear girl, if you’re a mess, if you’re chaos, if you’re dirty, if you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror and feel nothing but pain? Well done. You’ve lived.
What a wonderful gift. And tell that boy next door I’m sure you’re about to marry that I knew it the minute he saw you in the tree reading your book. I knew it the second he smiled up at you like a puzzle he couldn’t figure out but wanted to try, day in and day out, until all the pieces fit.
I hope you enjoy your time with that young man and give us so many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. If you look at the third branch on the right, where you used to stash wine—shhhh, I won’t tell—you’ll find a blue hairpin inside the little hole. You’ll also find a picture of us. Do me a favor? Have your daddy carry that picture with him down the aisle. On our deathbeds, we think about a lot of crazy things. On mine, I just wanted to hold your hand and walk you toward your beginning before I met my end.
I love you, sweet pea.
Great-Grandma Nadine.
Epilogue
The Wedding
I held the picture in one hand and my dad’s arm in the other, looking straight ahead. I stared at August waiting at the end of the aisle.
And in his hands, he held a picture of his mom and him.
Both of us, both of our losses, both of our broken pieces, were getting put back together, through us and our love. But also through two incredible women in our lives who actually saw it.
They didn’t look up at the sky and claim it was falling.
They looked up in amazement and said, “Wow, how beautiful.”
Even in the darkness and the chaos, they saw the one small part that made the world worth saving, worth living in, worth loving.
I walked with my dad and felt like sprinting toward August. We’d had a rough start, a weird middle, and so much laughter that it made my stomach hurt.
We’d have hard times.
We’d have good times.
We’d have disasters.
Wins.
And we’d have each other.
Being with someone who challenged you, who made you question, who made you wonder if it was worth the risk—it was a hazard.
But in the end, love truly did fix it all in the most beautifully messy way.
I didn’t remember a lot of the ceremony until I handed the picture over to my dad and wrapped my arms around August. “Wanna fight?”
He burst out laughing. “Hazel, I’ve been fighting you since the minute I tried to push you out of that tree.”
“I thought you were trying to save me.”
“Nah, I was saving myself. Figured if I struck first, I wouldn’t fall first.”
“And did you?” I asked. “Fall first?”
“First.” He kissed me. “Last.” He kissed me again. “Forever.”
“Forever.” I grinned against his mouth.
THE END