She forgot it would be different with Eve. With her sister. As she walked up to the bus, she prepared to be quiet and invisible.
But then there was a moment of eye contact with Eve, who was at the other end of the parking lot. It pulled Hazel back into her body. Into full, visceral presence, as she remembered she was no longer invisible to her world. She was the sister of Eve. The daughter of Silas. On the way to begin her new life. It emboldened her. Took over her. She waved wildly, excitedly in Eve’s direction, hand swaying vigorously back and forth, eyebrows raised.
She stopped her arms abruptly. How desperately uncool she must have seemed there for a moment. She pulled her lips together into a much more tempered smile and stood calmly in place even though her heart was beating wildly. She waited for Eve to approach her and resisted the nagging pull to look toward her mother. And then Eve started running. Her backpack bounced on her shoulders. Her strides were constricted and awkward as the weight of her cumbersome luggage swung recklessly from its precarious hinge on her thin shoulder. As soon as she made it to Hazel, Eve dropped her bags dramatically onto the asphalt and threw her long arms around Hazel’s ribs.
“We’re going, we’re going, we’re going!” Eve celebrated. She jumped up and down, arms still locked around Hazel’s torso.
“Come on, Hazel. Jump!” Eve whispered into Hazel’s ear. And Hazel joined in. She jumped and shouted and smiled in excitement she still wasn’t sure was real. Hazel could see what others would see from the outside. Two girls, two sisters, two best friends embracing. She liked the way it probably looked. And jumped and shouted once more.
Eve released her arms, picked up her bags and marched confidently onto the bus. Hazel remained in place, still stunned. Before she knew it, her mother’s arms were now around her ribs. They felt much gentler. And suddenly, Hazel was a puddle of nerves, scared and unsure. She was disarmed.
Over her mother’s shoulder, Hazel spied Susie lingering in the back corner of the parking lot. She was clutching the straps of her bag with both hands. Her body was rigid and vigilant. Her thin face was enveloped by large, dark sunglasses. She could see what Susie saw from the outside. Two young women, mother and daughter, in an embrace Susie longed for. Hazel liked the way it probably looked. And no matter how much she didn’t want it to, she liked the way it felt.
“Have fun, honey,” Jane said warmly into the side of Hazel’s face. Her voice rumbled below the surface. “I’ll miss you.”
Eve poked her head out the window. “Let’s go already, Hazel! I saved you a seat!”
Hazel could tell that Eve had done this before.
And just like that, Hazel snapped back into her reality. Or nonreality. Or something else entirely. Hazel wiggled out of her mother’s embrace.
“Mom! It’s just a couple weeks!” Hazel declared loudly enough to make sure Eve heard. She picked up her bag slowly and pressed her lips into her mother’s cheek decidedly. “I love you, Mama,” Hazel affirmed before springing onto the bus.
“Bye, Mom!” Eve yelled acrimoniously and clicked the window shut as Hazel made her way down the aisle of the bus and into the seat next to Eve.
Eve rested her head onto Hazel’s shoulder. And Hazel braced herself for more than just a bus ride.
Part II
Jane at Home
10
Jane’s car ride home from the bus stop was lonely. There was no other word for it. Jane felt emptier than she expected to feel as she watched her baby go head out on a journey that was all her own.
As she got off the highway and drove down the familiar streets with an unfamiliar quiet in the car, Jane thought about Hazel and the last couple of years. She realized that she and Hazel had been drifting apart for months now. It could have even been years. Was it years?
It was less of a conscious choice than a series of unconscious ones, but the outcome was clear. Things were different than they used to be.
Some of that was to be expected with Cam and the twins entering their lives. But Jane realized that she had inadvertently assumed that it would fill Hazel’s life with as much joy as it filled hers. For the first time, she realized that it hadn’t. In fact, it was probably the opposite. Her daughter must be feeling so lonely in this new family setup. Cam and the twins were taking up so much space, so much time, in what was once their home. And there were certainly changes in her daughter, changes in her relationship she hadn’t interpreted as clues until now.
How had she missed this? There were so many signs. She played them through her mind on a reel, but now the memories were playing through a prism.
There were Hazel’s sudden announcements of “having too much homework” to join the rest of the family for dinner or a walk or a trip to the store. In the morning she was gone early. Sometimes Jane would catch Hazel walking out of the house with as much confidence as she could muster to take on her day. She never sat for breakfast or said goodbye. And when Hazel returned from school, Jane would offer up hugs and kisses, and promptly request help with the babies. Jane didn’t want to exhaust herself with her boys like she had with Hazel all those years ago, but now she wished that she had spent more time with just Hazel on the couch. She had to admit dinners seemed quieter than they should have been for a home with love in it. The twins would coo and babble, but there wasn’t much talking about real things. Cam was sweet, he always tried, but Hazel would eat quickly and return to her room. And when she did, she would always leave the door ajar—never open, never closed.
Jane wondered why she never pressed that door wide open and hopped right onto the bed where Hazel was usually perched. Sure, teenagers needed their privacy, their space. But they also needed their mothers.
Jane had always interpreted Hazel’s behavior as evidence of her coming into her independence. Jane was proud and excited about this prospect—but she could see now that Hazel’s separating from them was something different than a need for independence. She realized now it was more of a loneliness. A cry for more attention, more love from her mother. Jane was sure of it now. And so sad she hadn’t thought to give more of herself to Hazel.
Why hadn’t she seen it sooner?
What a mess she had made.
When was the last time she and Hazel shared a bowl of surprise ice cream tucked under the covers together? When was the last time they found their bodies entangled after lying together and talking and laughing?
Jane wasn’t sure if teenage hormones or Cam came first, but the touching had become so much less intimate, so much more careless, so much less genuine now. There could be a peck on the cheek or a half-hearted hug, or the occasional instance of a heavy head tilted over onto her shoulder, but there was never much more. Even when Jane would try to pull her daughter in close, her daughter pulled away. And Jane just let it happen. She let it all go so easily.