Page 6 of Somehow You Knew

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and say, “He asked me if I couldseethe thunder.”

Dallas’s eyebrows draw together. “Come again?”

Willow covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Oh God.”

“I just wanna make sure I heard you correctly,” Dallas says, looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You said he asked if you couldseethe thunder?”

“I didn’t stutter, Dallas. Yes, that’s what he said. And when I calmly explained that thunder is asound, he laughed like I was the idiot and said I just wasn’t on his level. Then he launched into some nonsense about how people who aretruly enlightenedcan experience reality beyond the constraints of science.”

Willow shakes her head. “Okay, you’re right. Idon’tget what you’re going through.”

“What the fuck kind of morons are you dating?” Dallas asks incredulously. “Don’t you like…talk to them for a while before going out with them? I mean, seriously, Hazel…”

“Babe…” Willow places her hand on his forearm in warning.

But the damage has already been done.

“Of course I fucking talk to them, Dallas!” I whisper-shout, startling my nephew, but he settles after a few seconds. “This guy seemed great—good career, came from a good family, but meeting him in person was just…” I shudder.

“I’m so sorry, Hazel.” Willow reaches for Michael as he stirs again, turning his face toward my chest where there sure as hell isn’t a milk supply.

When my brother and his wife told us they were naming their son after Dad, I think I cried the hardest. Not only was it a beautiful tribute to our father, but my dad played a part in bringing the two of them together.

The romantic in him was always at work.

“I’m sorry too, Hazelnut,” Dallas says as he watches his son calm down and latch onto Willow’s breast.

I let out a heavy sigh after a few moments. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

Dallas stands from the bed and walks over to me. “What? Date?”

I nod. “It’s pointless. I’ve tried, you know? Given men the benefit of the doubt, been open-minded…but I think I’m just destined to be alone. And without Dad here…”

My brother pulls me into his chest, smoothing my long black hair down my back. “I know you miss him. We all do.”

“He would give me some sort of wisdom, some sort of encouragement after last night.” Leaning back, I shrug, refusing to let the tears fall. “And seriously? Did this guy fail fourth grade or something? You don’tseethunder, you moron.”

Dallas and Willow both laugh. “Maybe that should be the question you lead with from now on in the get-to-know-you phase,” my brother suggests.

“Yeah, becausethatwon’t make me seem like a crazy person.”

“He just wasn’t the right person,” Willow says as she looks down at Michael resting peacefully in her arms.

“None of them are.” I take a step away from my brother, brush my hair from my face, and then declare, “And I don’t think I want to keep searching for the right one anymore.”

My brother and Willow share a look.

“A break could be good,” Willow offers.

Something in my chest shifts as I say my next words. “No. I think I’m done—done trying, done hoping, done being optimistic.” I look over at Willow holding her baby and my brother watching them dotingly.

They have the kind of love and life I document with my camera regularly. It’s what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve always dreamed of.

But that’s the thing about dreams—they aren’t real.

And they can change.

Maybe it’s time I start searching for a new one.

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