The ride back is quiet save for the hum of the old engine and the splashing of wet snow against the tires. Lucy lays her head on my shoulder while the boys chat idly up front. While they mumble about some fella who keeps missing radio parts on the line, I quietly watch Harry. He leans his elbow against the window and runs his hand through his damp curls every now and then. He doesn't seem to have gone to that closed off place, but I still feel terribly inside. Every moment with Harry has been perfect. To make him think anything other than that is shameful.
I let out a big sigh, my frustration now audibly seeping out.
"You alright back there, Hazel?" Niall asks as he pull the car on to the bottom of Lucy's street.
"Probably made the poor girl sick with your driving," Harry says. I can't tell if he's messing with Niall or worried about me.
"Have not!" Niall protests, "Have I?"
"No, I'm just tired," I assure him. Niall's jaw juts out as he lets out a one big laugh of vindication at Harry. Harry just waves him off and turns to stare out the window again.
"Darling," Lucy says softly. "Could you drop us right here?"
"I'm not your cabbie, woman," Niall laughs. "We'll walk you to your door."
"You see that light on over there?" she asks. We all duck our heads to peer out the front windshield. Sure as sugar, a dusty yellow light glows in the upstairs window of the house across the street from Lucy's.
"What of it?" Niall asks.
"That there is Mrs. Collins and if that light is on, then the nosiest woman alive is awake. I'm in no mood to go fixing myself some trouble with her."
"We just need a decoy," Niall says. "Quick, Harry! Grab Hazel and give her a proper snog in front of that house so I can walk this one inside."
"You mental?" Harry asks, incredulously. I'm a little taken a back by the irritation in his voice.
"It's just a suggestion," Niall says, laughing.
"Well, no need for any more suggestions. My mind's made up," Lucy says. "It's just a quick little run up the street. I won't think you rude to leave us to it."
"Alright, alright," Niall replies, turning the ignition off. I shudder as the wind rattles the thin glass of the windshield. I peer out the window, goosebumps running up my arms as I look out at the wet cobblestone road shimmering with the reflection of the moonlight.
Lucy leans forward, resting her arms on the back of the front seat. "Harry, it's been a pleasure." She extends her hand. With a little chuckle, he takes it.
"Likewise," he offers with a sheepish smile. Lucy flashes him a smile and then shifts her gaze towards Niall."
"And you," she says, giggling.
"Yeah, yeah don't mention it," Niall replies, bashfully. Even in the dark of the car I can see the red rising on the back of neck. "So listen," he adds, flipping his coat collar up. "I'll ring you this week."
I'm hit with a pang of jealousy. I wish Harry could ring me with no worry of Gran or Grandfather hanging up the phone.
"I'll do my best to be around," Lucy replies. "Thanks a million, darling!" She leans over the seat and plants a big kiss on his cheek. Niall just grins, not bothering to wipe the little red memory of her kiss from his skin.
"Come on Hazel!" she calls as she opens her door and hops out.
Collecting my hat and purse from beside me, I say to Niall, "Thank you so much for driving us."
"Any time, Hazel. Salt of the earth, you gals."
"Right back at you," I say, grinning. I turn slightly and am surprised to see Harry staring so intently at me. I open my mouth to speak, but I falter. I don't know how to say goodbye to him. It's not like I can just say, sorry, I'm just a total fool who's so stuck on you that I was dreaming about being your wife. Hope my only family on this continent doesn't banish me from seeing you again.
"Um, lemme help you," he stammers, hoping out of the car before I can figure out what to say. When he opens the door for me, my heart aches to see his shoulders nearly touching his ears as he hunkers in the falling snow. I wish with every fiber of my being that I could take him inside. I'd sit him by the fire and warm him a blanket or maybe a hundred kisses or...
I shake my head as my mind starts to trail and hop out of the car.
"So listen," Harry says, shutting the door behind me.
"I'm so sorry for what I said before," I rush. "We've been on wonderful dates. Never been better dates. I wouldn't even count other dates I've been on in comparison."
"Don't tell me about other dates you've been on," he says, looking down. He shudders slightly, but when his eyes rise to meet mine, I'm soothed by the small smile on his lips.
"Hazel, hurry up!" Lucy yells in a whisper from the other side of the car.
"One second!" I whisper back.
"I'm gonna talk to your Uncle. I don't know when, but if I can't get to you, just go to the treehouse. I'll leave something for you."
"You'll be able to," I defiantly say. I can't accept a world where we aren't together. I just can't.
"Hazel!" Lucy calls again. "Mrs. Collin's living room light just went on. She's gonna see us!"
"I'm coming!" I hiss back, harsher than I intend to. He squeezes his eyes shut, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Just in case," he stammers, his eyes opening again. "Promise me you'll look there."
"I promise."
"Hazel!"
Frantically, I lean up and kiss him. His broad hands fan out against my back, but before my heart has time to fall, I pull away and dart around the car to Lucy. She grabs me by the hand, and careful to stay in the shadows, we run towards her front door and away from the boys we love.
+++
"Can you believe what a marvelous weekend it's been?" Lucy asks, falling backwards on to her bed as soon as we make it into her bedroom. I throw my wet coat over the bed post and collapse on bed next to Lucy.
"Almost too good," I say.
"Don't say it like that. You'll jinx it."
"It might be jinxed already," I reply, my gaze fixed on the ceiling above.
"What do you mean?"
"He's gonna tell my Uncle Ben."
"He's gonna what?" Lucy sits up quickly, propping herself up on her elbows.
"Ask Uncle Ben, or tell, I guess, about us going steady. I dunno really."
"So that's what you were doing last night," she says mischievously. Confused, I look over to see her grinning with a knowing look.
"What?"
"Oh, you know," she says, her wild eyes betraying her timid voice. "Making sure he knows you want to go steady."
"Absolutely not!" I can feel my cheeks become scarlet as the memory of Harry's wandering hands flashes in my mind.
"Why, Hazel! You're positively adorable." She hops on to her knees, leaning forward as she breathes, "Tell me everything!"
"Nothing happened," I groan, burying my face in my hands. She grabs them and pulls them away from my face.
"Good heavens, you look as guilty as a sinner sitting in church," she exclaims. Lowering her voice, she asks, "How far did you two go last night?"
I'm completely overwhelmed by how self-conscious I feel. Away from the temptation of Harry's mouth, I feel like a foolish girl, hell bound for her stupid actions. I groan again and roll over, hiding my face in the quilt.
"Hazel! Relax!" She says, a charming laugh behind her sweet voice. "You're a pretty little thing, of course a charming fella like Harry would want to be with you. It isn't anything for a girl to be ashamed of."
"Sure feels like it should be," I mumble into the covers.
"That's cause too many people go thinking that only boys should be enjoying themselves. Although," she adds with a chuckle, "by that logic, I'm not exactly sure who they're supposed to be enjoying themselves with."
The memory of my brother Thomas stumbling home late at night flickers across my brain. He had me sneak into Mother's room to steal her powder just so I could help him cover up the bruises on his neck after his date with Suzy Wellman. I'm not sure how they all got there; all I managed to learn from that giddy boy was that Suzy was a good time, but that I had to also swear not to be like her. I remember the confusion, and even a bit of anger, if I'm truthful, to see Thomas get to take pride in something that was supposedly so wrong for me.
I peak up at Lucy. She gazes down humorously, but a kindness that makes me feel like not the oldest sister for once. She brushes a curl out of my face and tucks it behind my ear.
"Hazel," she says, smiling, "truthfully, you're the closest I've ever come to having a best friend. I don't know why, but I've never been terribly good at keeping close gal pals. You've become a true companion, one I've never had either at home or when I've come to stay in England. I wouldn't judge you if my life depended on it."
"It's just that, I don't just run around with boys. I swear it."
"Really?" she laughs. "I never would have guess from those red cheeks you've got there." I let out a laugh, a cathartic release of my anxiety, and run my hands through my hair.
"So?" she asks again, her eyes alight with excitement.
"Promise you won't think I'm the biggest tart?"
"I swear to it," she nods, solemnly.
With a heavy sigh, I turn over and cross my legs. I begin with veiled vague words, but as she listens and nods, I become a little more open with her, sharing even more than last night. And shockingly, it feels really good to talk about it. Boys, well, boys in that regard, have only ever been a point of confusion. The only conversation I've ever had about that was with my mother and that certainly only raised more questions.
It was right after we had to sell our farm home and move into the little house in town. She cornered me in the kitchen, asking all sorts of strange questions about the boy I'd struck up a conversation with across the ally. She then proceeded to ramble on about the delicate nature of fine china, how it was meant to be cherished, untouched until the right time, and easily broken; it wasn't until at least a half hour later that I realized that I was somehow a piece of dining ware.
But as I tell Lucy all about my actions with Harry, it becomes clear to me that I still haven't the faintest clue about any of this. Have I let him go to far? What would it mean to go even farther? And most importantly, why do I long for it?
"So you really like this fella?" Lucy asks once I finish telling her everything.
With the deepest ache in my heart, I tell her, "Luce, I love him."
"It sure sounds like it," she says with a little laugh. She looks down, chewing slightly on her lip. "Hazel," she says slowly, looking up again. "You know I care so much for you. And I'm really very happy for you. It's about darn time that boy gets involved you the right way."
"But..."
"But, I have to warn you. Do be careful."
"Why?" I look up curiously at her, unease rising in my stomach. She pauses, her perfectly shaped brows furrowed as she seems to search for the right words.
"It's just that I've been close to a couple of boys before," she starts to say. "And while Harry was nothing short of a gentleman tonight, and clearly he's quite taken with you, I just worry that he's still a boy."
My stomach twists into a pretzel. I want to yell and convince her that Harry would never be like that, but the seriousness flickering across her usually wild eyes forces me to listen.
"I don't understand," I say.
"Well, it's just that, you know," she stammers, "sometimes boys can get to thinking that certain things aren't so sinful if you're on your way to something pretty serious."
I gulp nervously at the thought of that. I'm not entirely sure about the logistics of going all the way, but just the thought of Harry knowing such things, let alone wanting such things, makes me want to somehow want to hide under the covers with embarrassment and throw myself into his arms at the same time.
"Do you," I pause, clearing my throat. The house is empty, but I swear the walls are recording every indecent word we say. "Do you, um, think Harry's that way?"
"I don't know," she quickly replies, equally hushed. "I know most boys have it on their mind."
I feel a heat rising again, this time not just on my cheeks but my whole body as guilt and lust wage a war from my fingertips to my toes. On the one hand, if I had to describe Harry to anyone, it would be about what a sweetheart he is. But then again, my brain reminds me, he's snuck into my room on more than one occasion.
"Oh good lord," I exclaim, my hands flying to my hair. "Do you think he thinks we're going to do such things if he talks to Uncle Ben?"
Lucy shrugs her shoulders, her eyes as wide as mine. A deep panic sets in that.
"I don't mean to frighten you, Hazel. It's a marvelous thing falling for a boy. I just- I just," she stammers again. "I just want to make sure you end up with a boy who really truly adores you and will stick by you."
A flicker of something sad flashes across Lucy's eyes and it suddenly dawns on me- Is she someone's Suzy Wellman?
Without another word, I sit up and hug her. She wraps her arms tight around me, hugging me back and I know that there's a pain, buried deep inside that bright, bubbly girl.
"Oh gosh," she laughs, pulling back after a moment. "You've gone and made a sap out of me." She quickly gets up out bed, her hands wiping something from her face as she turns away. "I'm gonna go wash up, alright?"
"Alright." I say, softly. "Hey Luce," I call as she opens the door, "You're my best friend, too."
A gorgeous smile spreads across her face. She gives me a wink and heads out the door. When she returns, we head to bed, gabbing for only a few more moments before she drifts off to sleep. Despite my mind running wild with thoughts of Lucy's past, Harry's desires, and my own role in all of it, exhaustion creeps up on me. Before long, I too find myself falling into a deep sleep with dreams of belonging entirely to a boy with perfect curls.
+++
The next morning is a total rush. Lucy and I both oversleep, completely worn out from the tom foolery of the weekend. I nearly have a heart attack when I finally open my eyes and notice the time on the tiny clock on the nightstand. We scamper around the room, throwing my things back in my carpet bag and run almost the whole way to the train station.
I manage to arrive just as the engine begins to steam and hiss. I don't have time to really give Lucy the goodbye I wish I could give her, but with a quick hug, she pushes me up the stairs and on to the train. We wave goodbye to each other as the train leaves the station; Lucy, dramatic as ever, pretending as if we'll never see each other again. I nearly double over laughing at her theatrics, but am quickly advised to find a seat by the conductor.
Luckily, the whole ride back is fairly quiet. I'm able to find a seat without any passengers nearby and I'm left unbothered for the ride. Well, unbothered by other humans. My own thoughts have a way of prickling at my skin, the thought of Harry's knowledge still at the forefront of the drama playing out in my mind.
I close my eyes and lean back, doing my best to recite the lyrics to my favorite songs just to drive such devious thoughts away. I end up drifting into a light nap, which makes the train ride all the more appreciated. Before long, the train pulls into the station and I step out into the now more familiar station. It's funny how in two months time I've really started to carve out a little space for myself here. A space, that while in very amount of slow time and in very small ways, has begun to resemble a home.
I push my way off the train and onto the platform, fully expecting to see Uncle Ben waiting for me by the green wooden benches I sat on just two months ago just as he'd promised. I'm surprised, however, when from the hot steam of the engine and the crowd of bustling people, Louis, dressed in his driving uniform, emerges from the train depot.
"Louis?" I call out to him. "Has Uncle Ben forgotten me?" I ask, laughing.
"No m'am," he says, taking his cap off when I reach him. I cringe at his word choice, hating his sudden formality.
"Really, Louis, don't be silly. There's no need for m'am. I'd like to think we're friends at this point," I say, smiling at him. Louis doesn't smile back, but when he opens his mouth, a man's deep voice cuts him off.
"Really Princess, I think you might be the sweetest gal I ever met, befriending the help and what not."
Anger boils instantaneously inside of me to see Jack standing in front of me. Dressed in a wool suit, he doesn't look as pretentious as the night I met him at Gran's party, but his glittering blue eyes remind me trouble.
"What in the devil are you doing here?" I ask, far more harsher than I intended. Louis' worried look momentarily falters as he stifles a giggle.
"I've come to help for a few days," he offers, staring at Louis who looks the other way, coughing. "You know, just until things settle down."
"Settle down?" I ask curiously. "Why what's happened?"
Jack's grin softens into something closer to sympathy, and I suddenly want to smack him even harder.
"Come, I'll tell you all about it in the car," he says, holding his hand out for me.
"No, you will not! Louis, tell me this instant. What's going on? Where's Uncle Ben?"
"He's at the hospital," he says softly. He takes a step forward, boxing Jack out from my view.
"Grandfather?" I ask frantically. My heart begins to race. "Is he alright? What's happened to him?"
"No, Hazel," Louis says, his eyes lowering. "It's your Gran."