Hazel Wheal's Backstory

Hazel Wheal’s Story

A flutter of excitement tickled Hazel’s chest as her husband pulled the car into Pinetree Close. “Well, here we are,” he said, “home sweet home.”

Hazel looked from her husband to the baby sleeping in the back seat, “Home sweet home,” she said, beaming.

For as long as she could remember, all Hazel had wanted was a family of her own. Growing up with six brothers and sisters had meant always having to share everything, from toys to clothes, to friends. Not that she didn’t love her siblings, but she had never had anything that was just hers.

Dennis pulled the car onto their driveway and Hazel immediately saw their neighbour, Pauline Crookshank, hovering in her garden. Hazel got out of the car and stood tall, her chest swelling with the pride of her new son.

Hazel lifted her son from his car seat, taking care not to wake him. She was pleased when Pauline walked over to her. “Aw, look at him. He’s beautiful, Hazel. He’s got your nose.”

Hazel laughed and touched her nose. “I know, he has, hasn’t he? But he has Den’s ears and eyes.”

Pauline held the baby’s hand and agreed. “You must be so proud,” Pauline said. “You too, Den,” she added, as an afterthought.

Hazel smiled and looked at her husband. “We are, Pauline. We really are.”

Once Pauline had returned to her own house, Hazel and Dennis took their new son to meet his home. This was the part Hazel was looking forward to the most. She had been told how hard the first few months could be, with sleepless nights and endless worry, but she was ready for it. Hazel just wanted to be at home with her family.

Almost as soon as they got inside, the baby began to cry. Hazel rocked him gently, singing the nursery rhymes she had learned as a child. Dennis chuckled as he watched his wife, in her element. “I’ll make us a cup of tea, Hazel. Then we have to decide on his name.”

“Okay, love. I think I know it already, though,” Hazel whispered as she nuzzled her son’s head.

Dennis placed the tea cup on the table and said, “Right then, what do you think his name is?”

“Stephen,” Hazel said, with confidence and determination. “Stephen Henry Wheal.”

Dennis grinned and said, “That’s perfect, sweetheart.” Then he turned to his son and said, “Well, hello, Stephen Henry. Welcome to Number 12, Pinetree Close. I think you’re going to like it here.”

The young couple put their son in his moses basket and cuddled together on the sofa. Hazel breathed deeply and squeezed her husband’s torso. “I love you, Den,” she said, softly.

Laughing nervously, Dennis said, “Oh, haha. Yes. Me too, Haze.”

Hazel twitched as she caught sight of a movement outside. Not in her garden, but across the street. She stood to look out the window. “Ooh, Den. There’s that Kathy McEwan. She hugging a man and it’s definitely not Fred. Look, Den, he’s much younger.”

“It’s probably her brother, Haze. He’s been staying for the week. Don’t get excited!”

Hazel’s lips pursed and she sighed. “Oh. I missed so much being in hospital. You’ll have to catch me up. What about Joanie, in number 7. Did she take her man back yet?”

Dennis chuckled and said, “Well, it’s good to see motherhood hasn’t changed you that much, Hazel. Come on, sit down and let’s make the most of this quiet time, before our son wakes and demands our attention.”

Hazel pouted for a moment, then giggled and said, “Okay, Den. But I’m just interested in others, that’s all.”

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386 words in 15 minutes