Welcome Back

Hazel came back to sell the house, not to stay. After spending her whole childhood feeling trapped, that distinction mattered.

The town looked the same, which was comforting in the way old photographs are comforting; flat, curated, safely finished. The grocery store still had the same red awning. The post office still smelled faintly of paper and dust. The white fence along Main Street had been repainted, though she couldn’t remember it ever having a single chip.

At the house, the key turned easily. The door didn’t creak. Inside, the air was crisp, the interior tidy and organized.

Her phone buzzed. A message from the realtor, wanting to meet. Another from a neighbour she barely recalled, offering to bring over dinner so she wouldn’t have to cook after her flight.

She typed polite thanks, adding that she wouldn’t be in town long. The replies came quickly.

That’s alright, the neighbour said. We’ll make the most of it.

It was overwhelming, the amount of help she’d already been offered less than three hours after landing. She remembered most of these people fondly, albeit faintly. Her childhood had been warm, simple, and positive, but boring. She saved every penny she could for university. Once there, she worked hard not only for good grades but also to make good connections.

Networking had proven useful; she got a great job straight after receiving her degree. That’s when the resistance started. Not when she’d left for school, but when she’d decided to stay away.

"I’ll be lonely without you, what with your father gone and all.” For years, it had been her mother’s favourite guilt trip. And, in truth, it did make her feel a little guilty, but not enough to give up living the life she wanted. It all came crashing down when her mother passed unexpectedly, and she was the only one left to deal with the house.

She set her phone and purse on the kitchen table before heading upstairs. Like the lower level, the bedrooms upstairs were clean, tidy, and smelling fresh.

“Note to self,” Hazel said as she put her bags on the bed in her old childhood room, “Ask the realtor who’s been keeping the house and send them a thank-you.”

She unloaded a few things into the dresser and set her toiletry bag on the ensuite counter. She decided that was enough for now; the house would sell fast, and she’d be out within a week.

Sitting on the bed invited an onslaught of memories, from her father reading stories until she fell asleep, to watching her mother tend the garden from the window. She stood and wandered into her parents’ old bedroom. The room was so tidy that the small notebook sitting on the bed stood out immediately. She sat and opened it up, recognizing her mother’s handwriting.

She flipped through the pages, the older ones dating back ten years, shortly after she’d finished school. They weren’t journal entries, more like a list of incidents and their dates;

June 10, 2015. Hazel cancelled for Christmas again.

June 12, 2015. The roof needs new shingles.

August 13, 2016. She only stayed one night this time.

August 14, 2016. The TV broke. Hank couldn’t get here to fix it for over a week.

December 25, 2016. Another Christmas alone.

December 27, 2016. The headache has been relentless for weeks.

“Curious notes to take, mom,” Hazel mumbled as she went to flip forward. Her piercing ringtone cut through her thoughts.

She shot up from the bed and ran down the stairs. She reached for her phone and swiped to answer just as the last ring ended.

“Hello?” She answered, breathing in quietly and placing her free hand on her hip, concealing how out of breath she felt.

“Hello, Ms. Walten, this is Ben Armitage from Quaker Falls Realty? We spoke yesterday.”

“Oh, yes, hi Ben! Thanks for calling.”

“I heard you’ve landed safely and arrived in town. I’d love to set up a meeting with you this afternoon. I know you’re interested in a quick and uncomplicated sale.”

“Yes,” Hazel began, her heart rate slowing as she stood up straight. “I want to be done as fast as possible. I’m free for the rest of the day.”

“Excellent, how about we meet at John’s Coffee on Main Street, in say, an hour?”

“Sounds great, thanks. See you then.”

The coffee shop is about a 20-minute walk from the house; she remembered since she and her brother would always go for donuts and lattes on Saturdays.

“Maybe a little walk to clear my head, and some alone time with a coffee would make me feel better,” Hazel mumbled to the empty air.

She breathed in the crisp fall air, enjoying how it cooled her nose and throat. The sun shone brightly, offering a touch of warmth that Hazel tilted her face towards as she walked.

She arrived at John’s Coffee ten minutes later, thinking that they must have walked slowly as kids. Already smiling, Hazel walked up to the counter and ordered her old favourite, almost automatically, a chai tea latte with almond milk. The young barista brought the piping hot mug to her table a few minutes later; she brought it to her nose and breathed in the sweet, nutty aroma.

She had just tipped the mug back to take a sip when she felt a presence. She looked up to see a vaguely familiar face. They spoke before she could register a name.

“Hazel Walten, I was wondering if we’d ever see you back in good old Quaker Falls!”

Hazel studied the man’s face for a few more moments before it clicked. “Andrew Peyton, wow, you’re still here? I haven’t seen you since…” she trailed off, realizing she couldn’t remember which time together had been their last.

“Our high school graduation after-party.” He said, smile faltering slightly. “It was a real rager, you went pretty hard, but still left at 6:00 the next morning and, apparently, never looked back.”

“That’s right!” She exclaimed, “That was a great night, but I couldn’t miss that flight. Otherwise, I never would have left.” She said, frowning. Her eyes widened as she jerked her gaze up to meet his. “I - I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” he said gently, “You know how it is, not many people ever manage to leave Quaker Falls. And it seems the ones who do… always find their way back.” He said, smirking.

Now it was his turn to look horrified.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just -"

“It’s okay,” Hazel cut him off. “I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

His eyes softened. “I was sorry to hear about your brother. I didn’t know him well, but he was always nice to me.”

Hazel nodded, meeting his gaze. “Thanks. It was the timing that sucked the most, you know? Like he’d just gotten his degree and landed a great job in his dream city…”

“I know, it was horrible. I’m so sorry about your mother, too. I can’t even imagine. She invited me over for a tea shortly before she passed, I thought I could get to know her again.”

That’s… odd. Hazel thought. “Oh, how nice!” She said, sipping at her drink. “What did she want?”

"Oh, we just chatted. I… think I make her think of you.” He said, diverting his gaze to the floor as his cheeks flushed.

“Why’s that?” Hazel asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, I dunno, I can’t seem to settle down with anyone, and I may have asked her about you a couple of times. I think she knows I always liked you.” He said, meeting Hazel’s eyes. “She was sweet, Hazel. I really am so sorry for your loss. I wish I knew her better.”

“Thanks,” She said, distracting herself with another sip of her drink. Andrew may look like a stranger after all these years, but talking to him felt comfortable and familiar. “So,” she continued, “Do you work in town?” she asked, holding eye contact, wanting desperately to change the subject.

“Yeah,” he said, relaxing his shoulders, “I took over my dad’s hardware store when he retired.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! How’s your sister?"

His face darkened. “Well, she moved out West to start a business, but it’s not doing well. She might have to come back. I told her she can always work at the store… but I don’t think she’d like that.”

Hazel looked up past Andrew as the door chimed, and she spotted Ben Armitage. “So I’m actually meeting someone to discuss my mom’s house, but I’d love to chat again later, maybe catch up some more?”

The pang of butterflies in her stomach surprised her as her eyes met Andrew’s once again. He had been such a good friend back in the day. Her mother always joked that the two of them would marry. She always thought he was cute back then, and he’d grown into it. She couldn’t help but admire his defined jawline and bright blue eyes.

“That sounds great, I’ll be around.” He said, smiling as he walked away.

Hazel greeted Ben and did her best to listen to everything he had to say, promising a quick sale, complimenting the property, and expressing condolences for her mother. But all she could think about was talking to Andrew some more. She hadn’t thought of him much in the past decade, but now he seemed determined to occupy her every thought.

“Oh, Ben, sorry, one more question!” She said quickly as he went to leave. He turned around. “Who’s been taking care of the house since my mother passed? It looks amazing, I want to give them a nice tip.”

Ben’s brows furrowed now. “As far as I know, no one’s been inside. I drive by every few days to check in, but your mother hadn’t hired a caretaker.”

Hazel’s gut lurched. The air had been so clean. Not a spec of dust anywhere. But she swallowed the suspicion and smiled. “My mistake. I guess she was just super clean!”

Hazel left the coffee shop in a daze. The door had just finished closing when she felt a shoulder brush up against hers.

“Hey,” Andrew greeted her with a toothy smile. “How about a walk in the park, like old times?”

Hazel jumped at his sudden appearance, but her chest warmed at the thought. “Did you… wait out here for me?”

He nodded quickly, still smiling.

“I was in there for like, an hour?”

“Yeah, but you said you wanted to catch up, and I couldn’t wait!”

Hazel chuckled, unsure whether to feel unsettled or flattered by his sense of urgency. “Okay, let’s go for that walk in the park.”

As the days went on, Andrew asked Hazel out on more and more “walks,” which quickly turned into dates. Things felt effortless. She had his undivided attention. The conversations flowed; he was charming, kind, and warm. Most of all, he was familiar. Comforting.

They were finishing a romantic Saturday night dinner when Hazel got a call from Ben. “Hm,” she said, scrunching her eyebrows together. “He doesn’t usually call this late on a weekend.”

“Hey, Ben, everything alright?”

For a moment, all she heard was breathing. “No, Hazel, I’m sorry, the buyers backed out.”

A chill ran up her spine. “What? Why?” she demanded.

Ben sighed, “The inspector found a crack in the foundation! Did you know about that?”

“No, absolutely not. My mother took immaculate care of that house. You said you’d be able to sell it quickly! My firm needs to know when I’m coming back!” Even in her annoyance, Hazel clocked the dismay that shot across Andrew’s face.

“I’m sorry, but with the plumbing issues last week and the two broken windows, now this, it’s getting harder to convince people to buy a dead woman’s abandoned home!”

“Ugh,” Hazel growled as she hung up the phone.

“What’s wrong now?” Andrew asked, taking her hand back into his.

“Crack in the foundation. I don’t know how that could have happened. Nothing ever went wrong with that house before.”

“Do you want me to come take a look? Maybe I can help figure out what’s going on?”

Hazel sighed. “I guess so. I’m probably going to have to shell out a bunch of money, but for tonight, I want to relax.”

Andrew smiled. “Relaxing sounds nice.”

Hazel motioned to their server, who came right over. “How’s everything, you two?”

“We’ll actually get the bill,” Hazel said, smiling up at another old friend who’d never left town. “It was really nice to see you again, Jessie.”

“You too, girl! We all knew you’d come back someday. Andrew just couldn’t wait.”

“What did she mean, you couldn’t wait?” Hazel asked.

Andrew sighed. “I always knew I’d marry a girl from town, and I always thought it would be you. I’ve tried to date the others here, but none of them worked.”

“Why? There’s plenty of nice women around here.”

“Yeah, but the ones I date….” His face suddenly went red.

“What?” Hazel pressed, heart pounding.

“Well, they always get sick, a few have passed away, one left for a few years and came back with a husband and two kids.”

Hazel’s eyes widened. “Are you cursed or something?” She meant it as a joke, but it came out too direct.

Andrew sighed. “Maybe. But now you’re here, and doesn’t it feel so right?”

Hazel glared, “No, it doesn’t feel 'right’ that I’m only here because my mother died.”

Jessie came back with the bill, and they walked briskly to Hazel’s childhood home.

They walked in silence until they reached the house and found someone standing on the porch, their back to the street.

“Can I help you?” Hazel asked, stepping a little too hard as she walked up the porch steps.

The woman turned around to reveal shoulders hunched around an old, weathered face. Hazel stopped and stepped back. “Mrs. Calling, I’m sorry. Hi. What are you doing here?”

The retired grade-school teacher smiled sadly. “Hazel, dear, I came to see how you were doing. I heard you were back in town to sell the house.”

“Yes, well, that’s not going well. The house keeps breaking down.”

Mrs. Calling gave a knowing smile. “Yes, well, perhaps the house doesn’t want to be sold. It saw your mother through years of decline, that’s some bad energy.”

Hazel laughed humourlessly. “Well, it doesn’t have much choice. I need to get back to my life in Manchester.” She said as she gently pushed past the woman. She paused and turned, “What do you mean, years of decline? She said she got sick six months ago.”

Mrs. Calling shook her head, “She got sick right after you left town, hon.”

Hazel glared, “No, she never said anything, and she always looked fine when I saw her.”

“Yes, I’m sure she got better when you were back in town. It’s a pity that her passing is the only thing that could convince you to stay for more than a night.”

“It’s nice to see you, but I have to get inside,” Hazel said, ignoring the ice in her chest as she pulled Andrew to her side and closed the door.

“Of course,” Mrs. Calling shouted, “Perhaps I’ll see you two at your wedding?”

Hazel shook her head as she stepped inside. She immediately squealed as a barrage of drywall crashed onto her head. She looked up and saw a billow of smoke coming from the kitchen.

“That’s it, I’m calling a contractor right now.” She slipped her phone from her coat pocket, knuckles white as they curled around the device. “Great, no service,” she shouted, tossing the phone across the room. “How is that even possible? I JUST spoke to Ben?”

She turned to go back out the front door, but the knob wouldn’t move. She tried to pull it forward, but it wouldn't budge. She screamed and kicked it, but still nothing.

“Okay, calm down,” Andrew said, guiding her back from the door. “Maybe we need to start with a locksmith.” He said, checking his own phone, only to see his bars empty. “No service for me either. I wonder if we’re expecting a storm.” He said as he slipped it back into his pocket.

“A storm?” Hazel raised her eyebrows.

Andrew nodded. “When the pressure changes, the signal gets weak.”

Hazel’s brow furrowed for a moment before her eyes widened. “How often does that happen?”

“I dunno,” Andrew shrugged, “not that often.”

“Now that I think about it, there’s been a storm that knocked out my signal every time I came to visit.”

“I’m sure it’s a coincidence.” He looked around the house, eyes flitting back and forth. “Hey, what’s that?” He stepped forward and pointed to a small, brown notebook sitting in the hallway.

Hazel walked over and bent down, “It’s my mother’s old notebook… I swear I left it on her bed upstairs.” She mumbled as she flipped to the more recent entries. She read the last one, dated a week before her mother passed, and almost dropped the book; Hazel announced she made partner. Very proud of her. But the chest pain increased. Hank suggested I call an ambulance. I spoke to Mrs. Calling first. She insists Hazel must return. She thinks she can use Andrew to make her stay, but she needs a token.

Hazel looked up, “Andrew, did you give my mother anything when you were over?”

“No, I didn’t, but…” He trailed off. “Now that I think about it, my old high school pin went missing from my jacket. I figured it broke.”

They locked eyes. Hazel spoke slowly, looking toward the kitchen. “What if I… were to stay?”

They watched intently as the smoke receded and disappeared.

They heard a small “click” followed by a creak as the door opened on its own.