One More Chance: A Small Town Love Story

by A. J. Wynter

  Logan knew exactly what she was talking about. He had returned to town as a celebrity, a small-town hero; but at the same time, being home in Chance Rapids let him feel like a normal person again.

  “Never mind, I’m rambling. And I think I’m drunk now.” Charlotte held up the empty coffee mug.

  “Congratulations,” he grinned and raised his mug in the air to take another sip. “I know what you mean. I’m happy to be back in town, but I’m so thankful I got out when I did...” he hesitated, but then continued, “Do you ever wonder what life would’ve been like if you’d stayed here?” He didn’t wait for her response. “I do. I think I would’ve had a simple life, but a happy one.” Since his return home, Logan had found himself wondering if he would’ve been happier in Chance Rapids, working a construction job, marrying his high school sweetheart, and schlepping their kids off to the hockey rink, instead of living the glamorous but transient life of a hockey player.

  “Maybe for you,” Charlotte replied. “But you weren’t the blow job queen of Chance Rapids. I’m pretty sure that one would’ve stuck with me.”

  Logan sighed. It was time to address the white elephant. There was a reason they hadn’t gotten married. That Billie Jo Bunkman wasn’t his small-town wife, the mom of their freckled, scrappy, hockey kids, and like it or not, it was the time that the truth came out.

  Chapter 15

  THE CINNAMON AND FRYER grease smell wafting through the diner transported Charlotte back to a time when she was Billie Jo, and her mom, Sharon worked the till at the gas station. She looked at the empty stool behind the counter and sighed. The smell of the G-Spot always hung heavily on her mom’s clothes, and Charlotte half expected to turn around and see Sharon’s grin, complete with missing eye tooth, as she cast a knowing smile at her and Logan.

  “You okay?” Logan asked.

  “Yeah,” Charlotte inhaled deeply, the vision of her mom disappearing as the empty stool behind the checkout counter came back into focus. “I was actually just thinking about my mom.”

  “Sharon,” Logan replied.

  Charlotte pulled her chin back and tilted her head at Logan, “I’m surprised that you remember.”

  “Of course, I remember,” Logan smiled. “She was a really nice lady and we were going to name our coffee shop after her, remember?”

  Charlotte cringed as she thought back to the embarrassment she felt the night that Logan met her gap-toothed gas station attendant mother, but Logan had been sweet and kind. Her mom had loved him instantly. “I remember,” she said softly. The business plan for the coffee shop they created together had stayed with her over the years.

  “You know, Charlotte. I saw you the day the Sugar Peaks Café opened.”

  “You did?” Charlotte thought that she had gotten away undetected.

  “Mmhmm,” Logan said and took a sip of his maple whiskey. He coughed. “Wow. It doesn’t get any smoother as you keep going,” he grinned.

  Charlotte took a sip of hers, the burning alcohol a welcome distraction from the emotions that were swirling around inside her.

  Logan continued, “When I heard that there was a new coffee shop in town, I thought for sure that it was you. That it was yours, I mean. I thought that you had come back and executed our terrible twelfth-grade business plan.”

  “Oh, you did, did you?”

  “I mean, yeah. It was exactly like we had planned, right down to the location – except for one thing. The name.”

  Charlotte nodded. She had wanted to name the café after her mom but valued her veil of anonymity more, thus Sharon’s Spot had become The Sugar Peaks Cafe.

  “Sharon’s Spot.” Logan smiled. “If I had come to town and seen Sharon’s Spot on the main street, I would’ve known I’d run in to see Billie Jo frothing up milk for fancy coffees. But instead, there was a girl named Megan running the place. I only caught a glimpse of you, but I thought that you were just another rich skier from the city.”

  “Your brother recognized me. Right away.”

  “Well, Freddie has been in town since high school. Seeing you here would make sense for him. I’ve been away, and you know...”

  Charlotte knew exactly what Logan was talking about. “I don’t know.”

  “Uh.” Logan put his forehead in his hands. “Forget it.”

  “You’ve been gallivanting around the world dating supermodels?”

  “No, Charlotte.” He looked up sharply. “That’s not what I meant.” His eyes met hers and then darted down to the table. “I had a picture of you in my head from back then. The Billie Jo that I knew. I mean, I can see you now, but you are very different from the girl that I knew back then.”

  “People don’t change Logan,” Charlotte said.

  “I agree,” Logan replied. “But they do morph and grow.”

  “Are you about to spew out a caterpillar into butterfly analogy?” Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

  “You were always a butterfly, Charlotte. You just didn’t know it.”

  Charlotte gulped down the lump in her throat. The maple whiskey was starting to work its magic, and Charlotte found the courage to ask the question that had been swirling around in the back of her mind for the past fifteen years.

  “Why, Logan? Why did you stand me up that night?”

  “You don’t know?” Logan looked up from his chipped mug.

  “How would I know?” Charlotte leaned in. “You never returned my calls; I even went to your house. Logan, you disappeared into thin air and all that was left were the shitty rumors.”

  “Two piping hot beavertails,” Muriel interrupted as she set the plates down on the table. She looked to Logan and then to Charlotte, “I’m going to get you kids some water,” she turned on her heel and teetered back to the kitchen.

  Charlotte pushed her plate aside. “Did you know that my mom worked extra shifts so that I could go to the stupid prom? I got a second job and worked my fingers to the bone so I could buy a dress that I still couldn’t really afford. But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was how everyone in town looked at me after that. It was either with pity. Or disgust. Or a little bit of both.”

  Logan sighed and leaned back. “You didn’t get my letter.”

  “Letter?” Charlotte pursed her lips together. “What letter?”

  “It makes a lot more sense now.” Logan smiled meekly while shaking his head.

  Charlotte saw tears in Logan’s eyes and reached out to take his hand in hers. He let her and reached out to grasp her other hand, rubbing the back of her hands with his thick thumbs.

  “When I found out that you left, I wrote you a letter.” Logan’s voice was strained, and Charlotte realized he was working very hard at holding the tears back. “I explained everything that happened that night and asked for your forgiveness. I never heard back from you, so I figured you didn’t, you know, forgive me.”

  “Logan, I didn’t get a letter from you,” Charlotte’s throat was starting to betray her as well. “Where did you send it?” she asked quietly and squeezed his hands.

  The diner door clattered open and Charlotte ripped her hands from Logan’s. They turned to see Megan, Josh, Freddie, and Lauren all stumble into the diner.

  “Muriel, beavertail us!” Freddie shouted and made a ‘buy the round’ circular hand motion. “Hey, there you guys are,” he yelled and slid into the booth beside Charlotte. He grabbed the pastry from Logan’s plate, folded it in half and took a monstrous bite.

  Charlotte’s head was swimming. Logan had written her a letter? What could it have said, and more importantly, why didn’t she get it? How different would her life be right now if she had received that one piece of paper?

  She cast a glance at Logan. He had assumed an alpha male hockey player pose, his muscular arms stretched out along the back of the bench. “Hi, guys,” he said as the rest of the crew piled into the booth.

  Megan slid in across from Charlotte. “Everything okay?” she mouthed.

  “Yes,” Charlotte mouthed b
ack but felt her shoulders shrug. She wasn’t sure if everything was okay. She didn’t know what to feel, but it looked like confessional time was over. She wasn’t going to get the answers she needed until the drunks cleared out.

  Muriel shuffled to the table and set down two glasses of water. “How many more tails do you kids want?”

  Charlotte smiled. There was something charming about being in your thirties, goofing around with your friends, and being called a kid.

  “Make it three,” Josh smiled and held up two fingers.

  “That two or three honey?” Muriel smirked.

  Josh looked cross-eyed at his fingers and then slowly raised a third. “Three,” he replied.

  Everyone at the table burst into laughter.

  They sat at the G-Spot for at least an hour, sipping on Muriel’s secret stash, and polishing off five plates of beavertails.

  Charlotte felt a warmth from within. This laughter wasn’t fake and didn’t involve business or networking. These were the giggles and guffaws of friends. Her eyes were hooded with the effects of the maple whiskey, but her heart felt swollen with belonging. It took thirty-three years for her to feel at home in Chance Rapids, and now that she felt it, she wasn’t sure that she ever wanted the feeling to go away.

  Charlotte averted her eyes every time they caught Logan’s because if she didn’t, she worried that her heart was going to pound right out of her chest. Charlotte’s hate had cast a darkness over his looks, but tonight her vision was clear. Logan had become bigger, stronger. His eyes were bluer, his hair fuller and wavier and he was still the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. She clenched her hands together under the table because every time he laughed the blood pumped a little faster through her veins.

  Hating Logan kept her safe, kept him at arm’s length so that he could never ever hurt her again. This new information, the letter, could this change everything?

  Chapter 16

  THE G-SPOT USUALLY closed its doors at 2 a.m., but Muriel let the ‘kids’ stay and hang out until 2:30. Megan was the first to yawn. but Logan caught her not so subtle wink at Josh. He wanted what they had. Signals, unspoken looks that told each other what they needed.

  “I think we’re going to head out,” Josh grinned and pulled Megan close to him.

  “After party at my house?” Freddie grinned.

  “Newsflash, Freddie. We are in our thirties,” Logan said, unsure if Freddie was joking.

  “Speak for yourself, old man,” he said as he pulled on his shearling-lined flannel coat. “How about it, young lady?” Freddie extended his hand to Lauren.

  Lauren smiled but shook her head. “I can’t wait to get home and crawl into bed.”

  “Need any company?” Freddie ‘whispered’ to Lauren, loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

  “I’m flattered,” Lauren smiled, “but no, I’m going to call a cab.”

  “Your loss, Lala.” Freddie threw a twenty on the table. “Logan, looks like we’re in for a romantic walk home.”

  Logan glanced at Charlotte and caught her eyes dart away from him for the millionth time that night. He needed to be alone with her. His mind raced, trying to figure out how he could get her alone so they could finish their conversation. Other than paying Lauren to go home with Freddie, he was short of ideas. Their talk would have to wait until the next time they were alone together. His heart sank as he realized that unless he did something, the next time they would be together was the rehearsal dinner for the wedding, a month from now. He couldn’t wait.

  “I’ll take care of Muriel,” Logan said and grabbed Freddie’s twenty from the table.

  “Aww, thanks big guy.” Freddie smiled and held out his hand for Logan to return his twenty.

  Logan grinned and pocketed the money. He swayed up to the kitchen cut-out and left two one-hundred-dollar bills under the metal spike of completed orders. “Bye, Muriel, thank you,” he shouted at the kitchen.

  He turned and practically fell over Charlotte.

  “I need to give you your sweater back,” she said and started to pull off the jersey.

  “Oh no, you don’t. It’s freezing out there, and the Last Chance Tavern is closed. Your jacket will be held hostage there until tomorrow.”

  Logan glanced around the room, “Oh no, where are Lauren and Freddie?”

  “Don’t worry about those two. Lauren thinks he’s sweet, but she’s totally immune to his immature charm. They’re waiting for the taxi.”

  Muriel shuffled out from the kitchen. “Have a good night, kids. I’ll lock up behind you.”

  “After you,” Logan said, extending his arm toward the door.

  They stepped out into a deep blanket of snow, heavy flakes dancing and swirling in the streetlight. The last time the two of them had stood in front of the diner, there was also a late spring blizzard. Their running shoes and school backpacks were replaced with expensive shoes, even more expensive watches, and a fair dose of alcohol, but the feeling was the same.

  Logan wondered if Charlotte remembered that night, it was the first time that they kissed.

  As if to answer him, Charlotte turned to face him, “It feels we were just standing here yesterday.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Logan replied. He looked over Charlotte’s shoulder and saw Freddie and Lauren standing on the corner, waiting for the taxi to arrive. He smirked, Freddie was likely throwing a firestorm of his best pick up lines at a woman who was way too smart to fall for them.

  “Charlotte, I didn’t get to finish in there.” Logan was thankful for the alcohol but still fought for the words. Fat snowflakes stuck to the long lashes of her big brown eyes as she stared up at him. Instead of talking, he reached his hand out to cradle the back of her neck. She gripped onto his wrist, and he caught it, along with the slight opening of her lips, and the miniscule tilt of her head as he pulled her face to his until their lips were a fraction of an inch apart. Their steamy breath mingled and danced in the space between their faces. He pressed his forehead to hers, the bridges of their noses rested on each other. Her hands trembled and the warmth of her breath tickled and teased his lips, but it wasn’t he who bridged the gap between them. Her lips met his and he answered. She flicked her tongue against his top lip, and he grabbed her face in both of his hands and kissed her hungrily. The kiss they shared in 2004 had been the best of his life. one that he never thought he’d top, until tonight. Her lips were just as soft as he remembered, but her body had changed. The girl he had known, Billie Jo, was gone, and in her place, was this hourglass-shaped, raven-haired woman named Charlotte.

  “Whoo-hoo!” The shout was followed by a loud whistle. Charlotte and Logan’s second first kiss was interrupted by Freddie and Lauren hooting and hollering from down the street.

  A taxi turned onto the main street, lighting up the heavily falling snow in its headlights.

  “There’s your ride,” Logan whispered into her ear. He let one hand drop from her face and brushed the snow off her head but left his other resting protectively on her slender neck.

  “I should go,” she whispered.

  He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and take her somewhere private. Shit, but take her where? Back to Freddie’s spare bedroom with the beer poster walls? She was more than that. They headed to the corner, hand in hand to meet up with the taxi.

  “Charlotte, can I see you tomorrow? Just say yes.”

  Lauren had already hopped into the taxi and the driver beeped out a friendly honk.

  Charlotte stood in the open door of the taxi, and before she slid into the back of the car, paused to look at him, “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you at six then.” He shut the door and tapped the taxi on its roof like they did in the movies. He stood in the street and watched the car drive away, its taillights disappeared in the dusting of snow.

  “That was what, twenty years in the making?” Freddie slapped him on the back as the car disappeared.

  “Fifteen, but who�
�s counting.” Logan suddenly felt the cold of the night and he shivered.

  “Where’s your coat? Or your shirt, Mr. Florida?” Freddie asked.

  Logan laughed and the two of them started off on their short walk to Freddie’s house.

  Chapter 17

  CHARLOTTE SIPPED HER tea and applied her mascara. The butterflies that had been beating in her stomach had left her with little appetite. She tried to focus on work but found herself staring off into space, remembering the softness of Logan’s kiss, the feel of his big hands on her face. She was a grown woman but felt like a teenager waiting for her crush to pick her up for their first date.

  Her heart thumped a little faster as the doorbell chimed.

  “Auntie Charlotte,” Tabitha yelled, her voice echoed off the high ceilings.

  “Let him in,” Charlotte called back.

  The setting sun shone through the twenty-foot-tall window and glinted off his sandy blonde hair as he stood in her mezzanine. Her world went into slow motion as Logan turned to her, his closed-lip smile grew to a huge grin complete with adorable dimples.

  “Hi,” she said breathlessly.

  “Hi,” Logan replied. He stepped toward her and seemed unsure whether he was going to kiss her or hug her. Both options seemed impossible considering that he had two steaming takeout cups in his hands.

  She extended her hand out as if to shake his, but instead, he placed a cup in it. “I got you and your niece hot cocoa, both with whipped cream.”

  “Thank you,” she smiled and stood on her toes to press her cheek to his, a business handshake kiss, minus the handshake. The entire encounter a confusing dance of jutting arms.

  Their ease from the night before had been replaced with sober awkwardness.

  She took one of the cardboard cups and handed it to her niece. “That was very kind of you,” she replied. “What do you say Tabby?”

  “Thank you,” Tabitha said with a shy smile.