“What!” he asked. “When did this happen?”
“Almost a year ago.”
“Oh yeah? Then where is he?” he asked.
“He’s a resident at Children’s and couldn’t get off for the dinner.”
Cillian tripped over his next words, obviously not able to think of anything smart to say, and everyone in our group started snickering.
“Etta, one. Cillian, zip,” Atticus teased.
Cillian blushed a little but smiled. “Hey, man, I’m new at this.”
“I know, dude. I’m sorry,” Atticus told him.
“Grams,” I called out for my grandma when I noticed her looking shell shocked, “you okay?
Her mouth dropped open a little and we all turned the direction she was staring. Half a block away was a thin, dirty, barefoot woman with my face and hair.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Atticus turned toward me. “Who’s that?” he asked.
I started to back up, looking for a way to run. Atticus grabbed my hand and held me there. “It’s my mom,” I said. I looked at my grandma. “Grams, how?”
She shook her head as my mom approached us. “I don’t know, baby. I really don’t.”
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I asked when she came upon us.
Everyone was staring at her. I could see the wheels in her head turning. She loved an audience.
“Mom, get out of here.”
She looked at me, eyed me up and down, then stared down Atticus before smiling at everyone else. She turned back to me. “I heard you whored yourself out and got knocked up.”
Etta and Sarah gasped. My grandma stepped forward a little. “Tawna, stop this instant!”
My mom swayed on her feet, obviously drunk or high or both. Atticus sidled closer to me but kept my hand in his. “I suppose this is the boy who did it.” She studied his tattoos. “Covered in them, just like your dad.” She laughed. “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” She looked at me. “I heard your baby died.”
“Yes,” I whispered, and Atticus squeezed my hand.
“I wish I’d been that lucky,” she said, stumbling a few steps before righting herself.
Everyone gasped this time. My free hand went to my mouth.
“Enough!” Atticus shouted at her.
She only laughed. “It’s just as well your kid died. You would have been a terrible mom.”
“Tawna,” Grams breathed.
Everyone around us was silent.
“Leave,” Atticus demanded quietly, but under his cool exterior, he was fuming. I could see it.
My own feelings didn’t match his. I understood why he felt how he did, but her insults hadn’t meant anything to me. I’d learned a long time before not to take anything she said seriously. In fact, I’d learned a long time before not to engage her at all, but for some reason I felt compelled to respond that day.
“No,” I told her.
She looked surprised. “What?” she asked, in disbelief.
“You’re wrong. I wouldn’t have been a terrible mom. In fact, I would have been a wonderful mom and for those two days I had my daughter, I was just that. Because I’m not you. I could never do to my kid what you have done to me. You think we’re alike, Mom, but you couldn’t be more wrong. We are nothing alike, because I loved my daughter and I will continue loving her for the rest of my life. That’s the difference between you and me.”
She didn’t respond. It was as if she hadn’t heard anything I said.
“Do you have any money?” she asked me.
I dug into my purse and gathered whatever cash I had. I held it out for her and she took it.
“Leave. Leave me alone, leave Grams alone. Take my cash and leave. Leave.”
She did what she was superlative at and turned away from me, walking in the direction from which she’d come. For an instant I felt like I was on the Leaving Porch all over again, but then just as suddenly I was free of the place. This time I had my daughter with me and I had Atticus with me and I wasn’t alone anymore.
I looked up into Atticus’s eyes. “Take me to the letter painting,” I told him.
We stood in the parking lot, side by side.
“Start there,” I told him, pointing to the first word in my letter. “Then move clockwise corner to corner, around and around, and move in as you go. It will make sense once you start reading.”
Atticus nodded and cleared his throat.
“Hello, it’s Hazel,” he began. He turned and smiled at me before looking back at the painting. “I don’t know you yet. I feel like I carry you around with me, though. You’re a promise, a hope, and I want you so badly. I’ve already memorized your skin, your voice, your eyes, your mouth. I know you so well yet I’ve never met you. I must sound crazy to you but it’s the truth because I’ve felt you. I’ve opened myself up to the universe and invited you in. I can feel you exist. And I can’t wait to meet you, hold your hand in mine, press my lips against yours. I’m eager to love you. No one I know would believe me if I said that out loud but it’s the truth. I want to love you. You. I want to love you. I’ve never really felt I deserved it but I want it all the same. When I do find you, I’ll take you here. I’ll let you read these words and you’ll know. You’ll know. I love you.”
Atticus turned toward me. “I love you, Hazel.”
“You do?” I asked him.
“How could you doubt it?”
“I don’t count on much, Atticus.”
“You can count on that. My God, you can count on that, Haze.”
“I love you,” I told him, tasting the words on my tongue.
He smiled at me. “It took us some time to get here.”
I smiled back at him. “Was it worth it?”
“I’d do it a thousand times more if it meant us falling into place together.”
“So would I, Atticus.”
“There’s only one Juniper, though,” he said, though it wasn’t necessary. I knew it as well as he did.
I nodded anyway. “Only our little Juniper.”
It started raining, but not a small mist, no. No, it was hard, relentless drops and we laughed, holding our palms out.
“There she is!” Atticus shouted to the sky, the tendons in his neck straining against the skin there. “I love you, Juniper!” He looked at me. “I love you, Hazel Stone! I’m sorry, but I can’t believe I get to say that to you now!”
“I love you too, Atticus Kelly!”
He took his phone out and The The’s “This is the Day” played on full volume. He stuck his phone in the front pocket of his jacket. I smiled at him as he grabbed my hands, and we started dancing in the rain and screaming the lyrics to one another, laughing, and finally feeling free.
Water puddles began to form around us in the uneven parking lot. Atticus grabbed my hand and we stomped in each one, water flying up and drenching our shoes, our clothes, but we didn’t care. We got every single puddle in that parking lot, laughing like we’d never laughed before, happier than we’d ever been, loved more than we’d ever felt loved.
Atticus swung me to him, my chest near his, and wrapped his arms around me, bending me backward.
“I love you, Hazel Stone.”
“I love you, Atticus Kelly.”
He studied me a brief moment, his eyes searching mine, then he smiled. That’s when his lips touched mine and it was love, it was happiness, it was friendship, it was respect, it was passion, it was allegiance, it was worship. It was everything.
When we finally met, our two points, when we finally came together after the wars, the battles, the wrong that had surrounded us in the ripples of our existence, after the longing, the misery, the torture of seeing each other as our future complete, that moment, that second, that instant was our most vindicating time. It was quiet; it was unassuming. No one who saw us was aware of our perfect collision, but it was an explosion between ourselves, for only us to know, for only us to feel. It was proof we could weather anything, abso
lutely anything that came our way. Even if it meant the end of the earth, it wouldn’t have meant the end of the world.
We are perpetual. We are forever.
The Beginning.
I am so sad to leave these characters because I relate to them so much.
This was a therapy book for me. Write what you know, they say, so that’s what I did, which is why getting these characters down on paper felt like releasing a thousand doves into the sky, like a contribution to the world, God willing. Many of you have been through things similar to Atticus’s and Hazel’s story and I just wanted you to know with this novel, you aren’t alone. If your situation is new to you, I can promise you it gets easier as well. It may not be what you want to hear, but it’s the truth and eventually you’ll turn that pain into memories worth remembering, memories that won’t stick you to the earth with emotional daggers.
Everyone has a Cross to bear and these were some of mine. I was glad to carry them, though. They told me everything I needed to know about life, love, compassion because when I get knocked down, instead of getting right back up, I root around for a moment to see if there’s anyone else out there with me who needs a hand to hold and then we stand up together.
We’re all in this together.
***
I want to thank my incredible editor Hollie Westring. You’ve been with me for all but two of my books and I can’t imagine anyone else touching them. It would be a travesty. Thank you for treating my words with such incredible care.
Matt, I hope I did you justice in this story.
Baby Gabriel, I can’t wait to see you again. I love you.
For my earthly littles, take your lives and live them for others. That’s the best advice I can give you. When you love others, you love God. There lies happiness.
Courtney Cole, Michelle Leighton, Nichole Chase, and Tiffany King, you are my soul mates but you already knew this. To the moon and back five times.
Listen to Atticus’s Mix Tape for Hazel…
Fisher Amelie, The True Story of Atticus and Hazel
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