When Harley finally made it to unlock Smoky Mountain Spirits that morning, she found Hazel Moses beneath the awning, her dark bobbed hair stuffed in a fedora and her clothes covered by a navy raincoat.
“I didn’t want anyone to recognize me.” Her gaze darted up and down the damp sidewalk. “I’m not ready—to talk to them, answer their questions. There’s already been so much talk about Patrick and me as it is. I … I need something strong to drink. I just need time to think.”
“Why don’t you come inside,” Harley said, holding the door open. “And rest for a minute at the bar. I can hold off opening the shop for a bit to give you some privacy.”
A grateful smile crossed Hazel’s lips, and she said, “Thank you.”
Harley hung Hazel’s hat and raincoat on the rack beside the door and ushered Hazel to the bar where the retired school teacher took a seat.
“I need something strong,” Hazel said. “Strong and warm and comforting.”
“I know just the thing.”
Harley started the electric kettle, and when the water had come to a boil, she poured it into a mug and added a lump of sugar, a shot of whiskey, and a squeeze of lemon juice.
“A hot toddy.” Hazel smiled as Harley placed the steaming mug before her. “You know my mother used to make these for me when I wasn’t feeling well. And I always did seem to feel better after drinking one of them.” She took a sip, nodded that it was indeed good, and still holding the mug to her lips, she said, “Of course, I don’t know if it was actually the toddy that made me feel better or if it was just the fact that my mother had made it for me, that she was still sitting beside my bed, comforting me as I drank it.”
“It was probably a little bit of both. My grandfather used to make them for me as well.”
Hazel rested the mug on the bar and studied the toddy’s rising steam in deep thought. After a few moments, she said, “I know you and Tina must’ve overheard what happened between Patrick and me last night. I know how pitiful I must’ve seemed to you.”
“You didn’t seem pitiful,” Harley said in a sympathetic tone. But her heart had broken for Hazel, the pain and embarrassment she had felt.
“I want you to know, Harley, that I’m not some crazy, lovesick, middle-aged woman. I want you to know that the feelings I had for Patrick, they weren’t just some silly infatuation. They were special, at least to me … built slowly over a very long time, as we became friends, as we worked together.”
Harley rested her elbows on the bar and leaned closer to Hazel, letting her know she was listening to her, understanding her.
“I never should’ve stayed here. In Notchey Creek. I never intended to, you know, never intended this to be my life. I never thought I’d wind up in a small town, chasing after a man who clearly never wanted me. Then pitied by everyone else.” Her voice began to crack and she swallowed hard, steadying herself once again. “I had dreams once, plans for myself. I was going to move away to New York or Chicago or Los Angeles. I was going to become a famous writer for a magazine, maybe an editor.” She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “But that never happened, of course, did it?”
“Why did you stay here?” Harley asked in a gentle tone.
“My mother. You see, not long after I started high school, she became ill. She had Lou Gehrig’s Disease. She couldn’t keep her job at the woolen mill, couldn’t do much of anything with her hands or her body anymore. It was so heartbreaking watching her fade, watching the disease eat away at her body. She’d always been such an active woman. So talented with her hands. Knitting. Sewing. Quilting.” She cleared her throat, then ran her fingers through her dark hair. “By the time I graduated from high school, my mother was reduced to an invalid.”
Hazel took a sip from her mug and hugged it to her chest. “It was only the two of us. My father had left us when I was only five. Just up and left without a word. We never saw him again. So I began working full-time, took college courses at night, worked during the day, supporting the two of us until I graduated with my teaching degree, and became an English teacher. I chose teaching because it gave me the evenings, weekends, and summers off to care for my mother.”
She took another sip of her hot toddy and continued. “And that took up just about all of my time for a while, which was a good thing. My work, my mother’s care. But then she passed about five years after that, and I was left alone in the house, in that same house I’d grown up in, sleeping alone in the same bed I’d slept in since I was a child, in that same bed I still sleep in today. And I was lonely. So very lonely. I wanted to get married, you see, have a family, create something whole to replace what I’d lost. But I was always so picky when I was younger. I wanted something better for myself, something better than what the men in this town had to offer.
“My friends said I was wasting my time, wasting my best years, my most attractive years, waiting for the perfect man, the one I created in my mind, the one they said didn’t exist, would never exist. But I knew he did. Somewhere. And I knew I would find him eventually. I knew that if I waited, if I was patient, if I was a good person, a good teacher, he’d come. So that’s what I did. I waited. And I waited. Day after day. Year after year.”
She gazed at Harley over the rim of her mug. “And then Patrick Middleton moved to town. He was handsome and smart and cultured. Everything I’d ever wanted in a husband. And I thought he’d been sent just for me.”
Hazel smiled in reverie. “That’s why I joined the historical society, you know. To meet him. And when he asked me to help him type up his manuscripts, to do some proofreading work, I thought my dreams had come true. Of course, he would fall in love with me, I told myself. Of course, he would see we were meant to be.”
Her voice began to falter, and she drew her hand to her face, pushing back an emerging tear. “When he didn’t show any interest initially, I thought it was just because he was mourning his late wife. Sometimes it can take a long time to get over a lost loved one. So, I decided I’d give him the time he needed—comfort him in the meantime. But over the years, I realized it wasn’t his wife he was mourning. It was someone else.”
“The blond girl,” Harley said.
“Yes.” She repositioned herself on the bar stool. “Sometimes when I was at Patrick’s house, I would find him staring at her picture when he thought I wasn’t looking.”
“Did you recognize who she was?”
“No, I’m afraid not. It was too far away. And as soon as he’d hear me coming, he’d tuck her photo back in the desk drawer or in his pocket, like he was ashamed.”
“And he never spoke of this woman? Never mentioned her?”
“Never. And I didn’t ask. I was afraid to. It’s like she didn’t exist, that he didn’t want anyone to know she existed.”
“That’s so strange.”
“And if that wasn’t bad enough, I started hearing rumors about Patrick and Savannah Swanson. At first, I thought it couldn’t possibly be true. I mean, Patrick was old enough to be her father, and he didn’t seem like the type to go for someone so young, even if that someone was as beautiful as Savannah. And she was already engaged to Michael Sutcliffe by then. I figured the Sutcliffe wealth would keep her from doing anything stupid, anything that’d ruin her chances with Michael. But then I started seeing her at Patrick’s house at night sometimes …”
Her voice trailed off and she looked up at Harley. “Not that I spy on Patrick. It’s just that I like to take walks in the evening.”
“Of course.”
“Anyway, the thing with Savannah finally convinced me I needed to make a move. I needed to tell Patrick how I felt about him. Maybe if I told him, he’d see we were perfect for each other, had been perfect for each other the whole time, just as I realized the first time I ever laid eyes on him. But it never happened, of course. He made it so clear last night. So very, very clear. Not in all those years did he ever feel anything more than friendship for me.” She banged her fist on the bar. “Nothing!”
Hazel dropped her face to her forearm and broke into sobs. “Oh, I’m so glad he’s dead, Harley! I’m so glad he’s dead! Now I can be free of him!”