Page 71 of The Boyfriend Boycott
“Pfft. I know that’s bullshit. It’s an evolutionary fact that babies come out looking like their fathers.” She waves her hand in the air and rolls her eyes. “It’s a good thing I find Mason so darn attractive.”We both laugh, wiping tears from our eyes.
“She’s pretty cute. You guys made a good one.” I look back down at Hazel, wriggling in my arms. “Hazel … what’s her middle name?”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you …” Ally’s voice trails off as she gives me a pointed look, as if I should be able to read her thoughts. When I don’t say anything to indicate I know what she’s getting at, she comes out with it. “I wanted to name her after you. Hazel Spencer Landry.”My jaw drops in a moment of stunned disbelief, and I can barely pick it up enough to stammer out a response.
“Ally, what … That’s not … I don’t …” All I can do is shake my head. What I want to say is that I don’t deserve the honour of having someone else bear my name. Ally would be the first person to argue with me on that, so I don’t say it, but it’s the truth. To be linked to someone in such a fundamental way, that part of your identity is modelled after them … Hazel should be named after Ally, not me. Ally puts other people ahead of herself; she is thoughtful and kind and considerate.
I only ever think about myself. I’ve had to. There has been no one else in my life to look out for me, so I’ve had to do it. I’m selfish. I hate that part of myself now, now that I’ve seen myself in a different light—through Grady’s eyes. But I don’t know how to be anything else. It’s terrifying to imagine anything else.
“It’s already been decided, Spence. Hazel is lucky to have you to look up to. I want her to be strong and independent like you.” Ally says it with all the sincerity in the world. How can I tell her that those parts of me have just been a survival mechanism? And now they have cemented me in this life that is constantly at war with forming deep and meaningful relationships.
I don’t say anything in response, I have no words.
“I know how your mom felt now. The story she told about holding you for the first time. Like you were her best friend. I know I have a huge support system, but somehow it still feelslike it’s just me and her against the world,” Ally says softly. “It’s scary. What if I screw it all up?” I look down at the sweet babe, now sleeping in my arms. It’s unfathomable to me how anyone could ever do anything to hurt her, how anyone would abandon her the way I’ve been abandoned.
“You won’t leave her out to dry. You will do whatever you have to do for Hazel, so she knows she’s loved and cared for. That’s the difference, Ally,” I croak out.
“I have a community around me. I can’t imagine how your mom felt. Hazel has me, but she also has her dad, she has her uncles, she has you.” Ally is about to say something more, but she’s cut off as Mason knocks on the door and asks if Hazel’s uncles can come see her.
I lock eyes with Grady as he walks into the small exam room, and he strides over to Ally, planting a kiss on the top of her head. My heart does a weird flip flop at the sight of it.
“Hey, Mama.” He greets her using the same endearing nickname he gave Winnie. The man adores the women in his life, and it does something to me that I’m unsure how to interpret. It’s a glimpse of the man he has promised he would be for me, the way he shows up for people, in his daily actions.
He comes to stand next to me to admire Hazel. His body is warm next to mine as he peers over my shoulder at her.
“She’s beautiful,” he breathes in awe, and my ovaries are exploding inside me. I’ve never wanted children—I’m still not sure if I do—but holy god my ovaries have turned to mush at this moment.“How does it feel to be an aunty?” he says, his voice rumbling through me.
Aunty.A lump forms in my throat and I try to swallow it down. But when I try to answer him only a small squeak comes out. For the first time in my life, I’m truly speechless.
Aunty.I knew that Hazel would, for all intents and purposes, be my niece. But this is the first moment that I’ve realized the role that I have in that, too.
Aunty.I’m an aunty to someone now. I mean something to someone now.
I glance down at Hazel again and imagine the little person she’ll grow into. A little girl just like I was. A little girl that hoped and dreamed for a family who would love her and never disappoint her. Who wanted nothing more than people around her to take care of her.
I never had that. All I knew was that people left me, that people prioritized themselves ahead of me. I grew up to be untrusting, resentful, closed off to people out of fear that they would hurt me like so many others had.
Aunty.
Suddenly a weight drops onto my shoulders, but it’s not a bad feeling. Not like the feeling of crushing pressure. Just enough pressure, like a weighted blanket that people use to ease anxiety. It’s a responsibility that feels grounding; it feels good, comfortable. The kind of pressure that takes coal and turns it into a diamond.
I never want Hazel to doubt how much her family loves her. I never want to miss her birthday, her big achievements, milestones. I want to be there for every dance recital or hockey game. I want her to know that when she’s a teenager, she can come to me for dating advice when she’s too embarrassed to talk to her mom.
But I have to be here in order to be that for her.
I’m not going to be here for her. I’ve built this life for myself; I’ve chased independence and stability for so long that I’ve created no space to let other people in. I’ve built myself a house I no longer want to live in. The tear I was holding back rolls down my cheek.
“Spencer?” Grady’s gaze has shifted away from Hazel and is now fixed on me, his solid, strong hand warming the small of my back.
I sniffle and look up at him.
“I’m okay,” I lie. It’s my knee-jerk reaction, my most used coping mechanism. I’m okay because I have to be okay. There is no other option. Not now that I’ve signed that contract, not now that I’m moving full steam ahead to protect the life I’ve worked so hard for.
By the way Grady’s mouth has opened, I can tell he’s about to protest and ask me to elaborate, which I wouldn’t even know how to do. Thankfully, before he can say anything, two paramedics in flight jumpsuits enter the room and announce that they’ll be transferring Ally to the hospital in Calgary. Although Hazel seems healthy, she’ll need a thorough assessment and maybe some monitoring to make sure her lungs are strong enough.
Once Ally and Hazel are both secured on the transport stretcher, we follow the crew out to the field in the back. I lean down to give Ally a hug before they load her onto the helicopter, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to let her go. I cup her cheek and kiss the top of her strawberry blond hair, and we say goodbye knowing that it means more than just seeing her off to the hospital. By the time she gets back, I will have already left and gone back to Vancouver, with no plans to return to Heartwood in the near future. I’ll jump into my new, demanding publicist role starting with a three-week trip to Costa Rica and then from there … who knows where they’ll send me. Who knows how long I’ll touch down in Vancouver before I leave again.
Grady drapes his arm over my shoulder, the weight of it comforting as I wipe tears from my eyes. I extend an arm to wave goodbye to Ally and Hazel as the helicopter blades whirr, thelong grass in the field behind the clinic bending and swaying in the wind around us.
