Page 12

Chapter twelve

Emmett Foster

Hazel smells like orange marmalade. I shouldn’t know that about her, but she left the sweet citrus scent all over my pillow, so now I do. There were quite a few things I learned last night that I shouldn’t have. Like what she sounds like when she’s just woken up. And how soft her touch is. I can still picture the way her hair looked, halfway falling out of her ponytail, the strands creating a delicate frame around her sleepy expression.

She was…different. I’ve gotten used to seeing her daily. She’s become a part of my life because of her position as June’s nanny. And that was the way I thought of her. She was nothing more than June’s nanny. A shift occurred last night, though. It was as if I’d been looking at her through a smudged window, but when she touched me, that window was wiped clean. I awoke to a beautiful, kind woman who stirred something within me that I haven’t felt in years. Possibly ever.

I grip the countertop and stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Shadows hang beneath my eyes. I wasn’t able to sleep well once Hazel left. Her scent on my pillow was too much to bear, plus June insisted on sleeping with her knees digging into my back. Eventually I gave up on rest entirely and just stared at the ceiling.

I can’t afford to be anything less than a hundred percent for the upcoming games. While I don’t consider myself old–even if my friends like to joke otherwise–I know there are younger pitchers out there that my team might prefer if I slip below excellent. So it was foolish of me to have slept half the night in a chair that still has my back aching this morning. But when I saw Hazel holding my daughter as if she were her own…it was impossible to bring myself to wake them. June deserves to feel loved, and it’s clear that Hazel loves her.

“Daddy, I ate all my breakfast except the bananas because they’re slimy.” June appears in the doorway with her breakfast plate. There’s nothing left except a few sliced banana pieces swimming in syrup.

“Good job, sweetheart,” I say, mustering a smile for her.

“Now can we go see Miss Hazel? You said once I was done with breakfast we could go.”

I run a hand over my face, my palm scratching against my beard. It’s in need of a trim again, but I’m too tired to care.

“Yes, we can go now. Get your shoes on.”

June lifts one foot in the air, a sparkly pink tennis shoe glittering on her tiny foot. “I’m wearing my shoes. You put them on me.” She giggles as if she told a joke. I suppose my state of mind is a joke right now.

“Oh, well put your plate down and then we’ll go.”

“Yay!” she cheers and prances back to the desk where she was eating.

I wet my hair and run a comb through it before sighing and hiding it beneath my ball cap. Maybe the brim will help conceal my haggard appearance as well.

“I can’t wait to see what Miss Hazel has planned for us! She always takes me on the best adventures. One time we went to the park and searched for these painted rocks. I found a yellow one and gave it to her because she’s my best friend, and she cried and said I was her best friend too.” June stops only to take a breath. “Then we got ice cream with sprinkles and Miss Hazel stuck her tongue out with sprinkles on it. It was very silly.”

I pause at the door and look down at June. “She cried?” This must be one of June’s exaggerations.

June nods emphatically. “I was scared that I made her sad but she said sometimes she just gets soooo happy that tears overflow out of her eyes.”

A laugh escapes me. Maybe I wasn’t mistaken those times I thought I saw Hazel tearing up around June. She must be pretty sensitive to cry over something so small. I don’t relate to her there. Or really much at all, if I think about it. We seem to be very different people. Just like Shelby and I were.

June tugs on my t-shirt. “Come on, Daddy. We’re going to be late.”

“We’re actually going to be early, but okay. Let’s go.”

I check my wallet to make sure our room key is in there, then open the door. June flies across the hall and starts knocking on Hazel’s door. After six consecutive knocks, I catch her wrist.

“I think she heard you.”

June scrunches her nose. “She hasn’t opened the door though.”

“You’re supposed to knock, then wait.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”

I chuckle and muss her hair. She pushes my hand away with a giggle. Hazel opens the door a moment later, phone to her ear.

“I’m sorry, I’ll just be a minute,” she says in a low voice.

Darkness rims her eyes in a way that mirrors mine. Did she have a sleepless night too?

“No problem, I know we’re early.”

She gives me a tight smile, then turns and walks back into her room. It’s so unlike her that it catches me off guard. The door catches on my foot, preventing it from closing entirely.

“I understand that you have to work, but it shouldn’t be too difficult for you to take off an hour early one time. Once I’m back in Nashville, I’ll be able to help out again.”

“Is Miss Hazel okay?” June asks. I hold a finger to my lips for her to be quiet. I’m not sure if Hazel intended us to follow her into the room or for us to wait out here.

“Yes, I know Mom is supposed to take care of Raven during the week.” Hazel’s voice is ice cold. “But we both know that doesn’t happen. So please be her father and take her to this interview. It’s a dream of hers to even be considered for the position.”

My brow furrows. I recall Hazel mentioning a sister named Raven. She must be dealing with something concerning her.

“No, there are no other options. Her friends are busy.” A pause ensues, thick with tension. “No, I cannot take her. I just told you I’m working in New York.”

Hazel’s volume increases. “I am not her parent! This is not–” She cuts herself off, then lowers her voice again. “Please, Dad. This is important to her.”

My mind fills in the pieces of conversation, putting together an unpleasant picture.

“Thank you. I’ll tell her to call you with the details. Goodbye.”

June pushes open the door after Hazel hangs up and runs in before I can catch her. She throws her arms around Hazel’s waist.

“Miss Hazel, are you ready for our big adventure?”

Hazel smiles down at June, but her eyes don’t crinkle at the edges like normal.

“Yes, sweet pea. We’re going to have so much fun.”

“Yay! Oh, your window looks different than ours,” June exclaims, then skips over to look out at the view of the street below.

“Are you all right?” I ask Hazel.

She smiles that same not-quite-right grin. “Of course. I’m excited for a day in New York. I planned a scavenger hunt for June. Some of the items should be at the baseball stadium too, if my research was correct.”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but your conversation sounded a little tense.”

She shakes her head. “It was no big deal. I’m sorry I was on the phone when you got here, though.”

“I told you we were early. If anything, we interrupted you.”

“You could never be an interruption.” Her eyes widen. “I-I meant June,” she stammers. “June could never be an interruption.”

“Either way, I’m sorry if I overstepped by staying at the door.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but June speaks up.

“Daddy, Miss Hazel, come look at all the birds!”

Hazel immediately turns and heads for the window, no doubt using this opportunity to avoid our conversation. I don’t know why I’m pushing it anyway, it’s not like we’re friends. She’s June’s nanny, that’s all. Her personal business isn’t my concern. I need to remember that.

I follow Hazel to the window and stand on the other side of June. A line of pigeons are perched on the edge of the sloped roof.

“See, there’s a hundred birds,” June says, her eyes wide with wonder.

Hazel laughs softly. “Not quite a hundred. Why don’t we count them?”

I look down and watch as Hazel coaches June through counting the birds. There are twelve in total, which June still says is a lot of birds. Hazel tells her that pigeons are in the same family as doves.

“They’re like brothers?” June questions, making Hazel laugh.

“You could say that.”

Hazel’s gaze catches mine and we share a smile. It occurs to me that she’s putting on a brave face. And that this woman who cries over yellow rocks and saying goodnight isn’t crying over her dad being a negligent father. She’s strong and determined to not let anyone see her upset over her circumstances. Maybe we’re more alike than I thought.