Hazel's P.O.V
"What do I do, Luce?" I plead over the phone. It's been two days since I frantically agreed to Jack's demands, and now we're supposed to go on this lousy date tonight. Thank god that my weekly chat with Lucy landed right in the middle of this pickle. I'm absolutely desperate for some way out of this.
"First of all," she begins, her protective nature encouraging an even thicker Brooklyn accent than usual, "This Jack fellow sounds like an absolute goon."
"Trust me, he is," I emphatically agree.
"But second of all," she continues, ignoring my griping, "don't you dare go on a date with that creeper."
I was kind of expecting that kind of advice, but at the same time, I don't really know if that's genuinely an option.
"I wish it were that simple," I mutter, tucking my knees into my chest.
"Why not?" Lucy replies.
"What if he tells Gran, Luce?"
"Hazel, this is silliness," she calls me out. "You can't trust him."
"I'm sure he'd tell, Lucy, I'm positive of it. And if Gran finds out that not only have I been seeing someone, but also sneaking out to do so, I'm sure she'd send me back. There's no chance for me and Harry then. Why would she ever keep a troublemaker around?"
"But who's to say Jack doesn't just tell her later? It could turn into some long list of do this or do that and eventually you'll have to say no, so it'll all comes out anyways. But by then, you would have gone on several dates, making it so much worse."
I groan, completely agreeing with her logic.
"Appeasing him will only delay the inevitable, and possibly just make it worse, even if it seems like the smart move right now," she adds firmly.
It's almost comical how annoyingly awful this whole thing is, and I find myself chuckling softly as I lean my head back against the wall. "Good gosh almighty, since when did my nonexistent love life turn into the next international crisis."
"I could always ring Churchill for you, see if he could arrange another Munich meeting for you," she laughs lightly. I chuckle a little with her, but the humor of the moment subsides into nausea as my stomach turns.
"Oh Lucy," I sigh, "What am I going to do?"
Lucy takes a moment, her heavy breathing crackling softly over the phone as she mulls over my worries. "Perhaps you just need to stop sneaking around."
"You mean stop seeing Harry?" My heart aches just saying the words.
"No," she quickly replies. "I mean, just tell your Grandmother you like him- or someone. I don't know, maybe ease her into it."
"Maybe.." I reply doubtfully. I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't occurred to me already, but I don't want to make that decision without Harry. He has his career to think about after all.
"Hazel, you know him better than I do and perhaps your situation is different, but I'll tell you this," she says before pausing carefully, "You deserve more than to be someone's secret. He should want to show you off to the world, not hide you from it. And if he really wants to be with you- and if he really is as wonderful as you say, then he'll do just that and all this worrying you've got going on will work itself out."
I slowly take in her advice, resisting the knee-jerk reaction I have to defend him. I've only known him for a little whiles, but I trust him with everything in me. Harry seems much too sweet for any kind of nonsense like that.
But then, on the other hand, Lucy's never really spent time with him, and she is right that this secret relationship we have is only a temporary solution- one that clearly has an expiration date on it.
"You can always tell me off if I've overstepped," Lucy says, reminding me that I've been quiet for too long.
"Luce," I reply softly, "You're a good friend, you know that?"
"I try," she lightly laughs. "But really, I don't mean to be too pushy."
"I think every now and then a push is exactly what's needed," I tell her, and I mean it too. I'm still not totally sure how I'm going to go about this, but at least I feel a little bit clearer in the head.
"Tell me some good news, my favorite lady," I sigh, hoping to change the conversation with some good news. "What's happening on your end?"
Lucy begins to fill me in on the trials and tribulations of the last week, which mostly consist of annoying relatives and dreary weather. There is, however, the excitement of the big winter fair happening this weekend.
"You should come with me! I'm just a few miles out from it. We could walk!" Lucy squeals.
"You mean no crazy driver trying to send us to our graves?" I playfully gasp.
"Oh god, don't remind me," she moans before breaking into a jingling laugh. "I'll actually have the house to myself for the weekend. My family will be headed into London and they want me to stay back to look after things, which let me tell you," she pauses, her lowered voice making me chuckle, "I couldn't be more excited for."
"You lucky, dog!" I playfully gasp.
"Come stay with me! We'll have such a lovely gals time."
"I'll have to check with Gran, but what fun that would be!" I reply, my eyes floating up to the ceiling along with wistful dreams of fun and freedom. I highly doubt Gran would let me, but it's lovely to imagine.
"Let's make a plan to chat on Wednesday- that way I can let them know if I'll have company and give you some time to work it out with your Grandmother."
"Perfect." I reply, smiling earnestly for the first time in two days.
"Listen, I've got to go, but good luck, and I'll talk with you soon," she says.
"Sure, sure. We'll be in touch."
"Oh and Hazel?" she asks gently.
"Yes?"
"You tell that Jack I said to put it where the sun don't shine or else I'm gonna knock him to the moon," she says in a low and serious voice with only a hint of humor.
I burst out into laughter, radiating with a new sense of confidence. "You got it, Luce."
I reach up and place the thick receiver back onto the base, the heavy click of its placement echoing in the empty hall. As I lean my head back against the wall, I stare out aimlessly, wondering just how I'm supposed to act on this new found determination.
"Hazel!" Gran's voice calls up from downstairs. "Could you come here for a moment, I've got a job for you!"
I hop up from my little spot and make my way downstairs. Gran however is nowhere insight.
"Gran?" I call, nearly tripping as I spin around looking for her.
"Back here, dear! In your grandfather's study!"
I mosey down the hallway and turn into Grandfather's room. "Grandfather are you alright?" I ask, quickly making my way over to him as he sits slumped over his desk with his head in his hands.
"Yes, yes, fine, fine.." he mumbles not bothering to look up. "I've a handful of papers here that I know your uncle will be needing at work. I don't want to bother him by coming over here, and I was wondering if I could trust you with delivering them. You can take them to his assistant."
Holy smokes, there is a God.
"You mean Harry?" I nearly squeak. Both of them look up at me quizzically, even Grandfather in his ill state. I clear my throat as I clutch the side of my skirts as I try to shake off the sudden surge of excitement coursing through my limbs. "I mean, Harry, right?" I try again, this time in a lower and calmer register. I scrunch my face as I try to shake off my reddening cheeks.
"Yes, that's the lad." Grandfather lightly chuckles, still eyeing me carefully. "He'll know what do with them."
Grandfather then tilts his head closer to Gran, but in his frail state, cannot turn up his neck to look at her. "The pile on the left, Florence," he says softly to her. Gran moves swiftly around the chair to hand the envelopes to me, but just as I reach out to take them, Grandfather adds, "You're alright to take them?"
"Of course, sir. It's no trouble at all," I reply hastily.
"That's not quite what I mean, although I'm thankful," he grumbles through a dry cough. Extending his boney finger, he explains, "Those are rather important documents. If they are lost or ruined, it'll mean quite a bit of trouble for a host of people. Can I trust you with this?"
The sudden pressure of the rather simple task throws me off a little, but my heart still pounds with excitement at the thought of seeing Harry. "I'll take good care of it, Grandfather, you can trust me." I nod seriously.
"Good girl," he says as his eyes flutter closed, his hand rubbing his head lightly. "I'll call for the driver to come get you."
"Well, actually," I cut in as Gran tries to help Grandfather settle into a more comfortable position. "I know how to drive. I could take the one still in the garage, if that's helpful..." The hopefulness in my voice slowly drifts away as Gran stares at me in bewilderment.
"Hazel," she says in a strained voice, her eyes somewhere between cross and confused, "I don't know if that would be such a good idea."
"Why not?" Grandfather huffs loudly as he shifts in his seat. He coughs violently into his handkerchief causing his large build to shake like a frail tree in winter. The concern in Gran's eyes shifts as they flicker over his worsening state. "Florence, we have a car and if the girl can drive, she might as well."
"I'm just thinking about you- I wouldn't want your employees to see.. You know.."
"What, Florence?" he impatiently asks.
"Well, you wouldn't want to see you without a driver."
Without raising a glance to look at her, he quickly fires, "For heavens sake, Florence, I'm trying to run a factory here. We're about efficiency, not appearances. If the damn girl can drive, then go give her the keys. I might be dead by the time a driver gets here, anyways."
Without missing a beat, Gran replies angrily, "Oh you hush that language, right now. You're not dying." Her lips purse to the side as she mumbles, "Should have worked on the stage instead of that silly factory all your life." I cover my mouth as I try to stifle a laugh, completely amused by their persnickety, albeit loving relationship.
"Hazel, you come this way. I'll get you the keys," Gran sighs as she charges out of the room. As I run after her, I can't help but turn the small event into a tiny hope, that maybe, just maybe, if Harry talks to Grandfather, he'd force Gran to be reasonable about the whole thing.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I nearly run into Gran as she stops short in front of a small cupboard in the kitchen. "Do you think you can lift the garage door? I'm afraid I won't be much help there," she laughs lightly.
"Oh yes, I can get it," I smile and nod at her, failing to keep my excitement at a normal level.
"Wonderful. Don't forget these," she adds, handing me the stack of envelopes.
Papers in hand, I scurry to grab my coat and hat before heading out to the garage. I can't believe my lucky stars that I have a chance to see Harry.
It's cold today, frigid even, but the rush of freedom breathes new life into my limbs as I dash to the garage. Stumbling only a little as I yank open the heavy door, I quickly make my way to the car and rip open the door to get out of the cold.
Without thinking, I toss the papers to the side, but when I extend my hands, it takes my stupid brain way too long to comprehend why there is no steering wheel.
"Oh for the love of Pete.." I huff.
Taking a moment to process this new challenge, I slide over to the right and settle behind the large steering wheel.
It's totally fine, you've got this, I mentally reassure myself, evaluating the contraption in front of me. It's totally the same thing, all I have to do is get into gear, tap the gas.. OH GOD.
The car lurches forward as my foot hits the gas, the engine far more powerful than the beat up truck I drive at home. With both feet, I slam on the breaks, the luxury car coming to a screeching halt.
"Holy smokes!" I breathe, my heart pounding with sudden exhilaration.
"Hazel, are you alright?" Gran calls from far down the path, her hand raised over her eyes as she stares up at me. I flash her a thumbs up, but I can tell from her tense body that she doesn't believe me for a second.
My heart pounding, I calmly try again, this time more successfully easing the car down the drive and past the house.
"Totally fine!" I yell through the window as I pass Gran who looks like she might have a heart attack. When I look back to the road, I cringe instantly, my shoulders flying up as I wince, the car way too close to the centre fountain. "Totally fine!" I yell again in a panic.
In the rearview mirror, I can see Gran gripping her temples with anxiety, but she turns around and moseys back inside so I must be fine enough. Letting out a cool breath, I slowly turn the car out of the drive and head down the road.
While I usually love driving, as soon as the wheels hit the main road, the pit in my stomach returns as my mind reminds of the talk I need to have with Harry. The drive does act as a solid distraction seeing as I nearly get myself into a dozen accidents. Every time I pass a car or even a large tree, I cringe, making it so much worse.
The worst part is when it comes to making turns. But even though takes me nearly three whole minutes to guide the car around a simple roundabout, it isn't until I see the gates of the factory that the worrying really sets in.
"Yes, hi, I'm here to deliver papers from Mr. Williams," I nervously croak to the man at the gate. He eyes me curiously, but nods and waves me in.
"Leave the car at building two for administration," he says flatly before turning back to his post.
I follow his instructions and quickly find myself in the lot. Anxiety sweeps over me with the click of the ignition, my nonexistent plan dissipating like the steam of the engine that hisses into the cold afternoon air.
What am I going to say to him?
Is he going to hate me?
Also, is this even the right building?
I step out of the car, curiously looking up at the building closest nearby. My heels slosh in the muddied ground, sticking to the earth as my nerves grip my muscles. But, with the papers clutched tight against me, I head down the walk towards the administration building, determined to set everything right with Harry.
When I reach the door of the now familiar admin building, I awkwardly wait for a second, wondering if Harry would even be in. But after I lightly wrap my fist against the door, I know exactly who the muffled "yep!" belongs to.