Second Chances

by Bria Marche

  Erik looked from side to side, appearing to be in awe of the immense room. A red brick fireplace stood majestically in the center of the far west wall. The marble mantel above it held treasured family photos and mementos. To his left was a door leading to a bathroom the size of his entire room downstairs. To his right was a walk-in closet just as big. Straight ahead, centered in the room was a king-sized bed.

  She laughed at his expression. “Do you want to eat before our food gets cold? You can browse later.”

  “Oh… okay. This room is just really intense. I guess this is part of the perks of being the house steward, right?”

  “Come over here and sit. The view is beautiful.”

  He pulled a chair out for Abby, and she sat. He faced her from across the table and poured wine for both of them. “I feel like I’m in a fancy restaurant.”

  She smiled at him. “Erik, please don’t go, I want you to stay. I was upset earlier, but I don’t want drama in the house either. The last thing I need is the neighbors complaining to the owners about fighting and yelling going on here. It’s so out of the norm for this street. People are private and genteel here. I can’t afford the backlash.”

  “I understand, and I’m really not going out of my way to get under Brandon’s skin. He’s just so damn arrogant, it’s hard not to beat the crap out of him.”

  Abby laughed. “I know what you mean, but if you recall, you did beat the crap out of him. You know, he might press charges against you.”

  “Whatever… it’s worth it to take his ego down a few notches.”

  They ate dinner and laughed, just two people enjoying each other. The rest of the world was downstairs, two stories below, and right then, neither of them cared.

  Abby reached for the bottle and filled each wine glass. “Follow me. I want to show you something.” She handed the glasses to Erik and opened a door that led to another staircase. “You’ll like this,” she said, turning back to see his expression.

  At the top of the stairs, she opened the final door. They were on the rooftop of the mansion, the widow’s walk, outdoors and under the stars.

  “Holy cow… this is amazing.”

  “Isn’t it? I come up here sometimes when I just want to reflect. It shows me how insignificant we really are compared to the expanse out there. The stars above us and the ocean straight ahead put me in my place every time I sit up here. Come over here.”

  Abby led Erik to the lounge chairs. She sat on one and motioned for Erik to sit on the other. A small glass topped wrought-iron table was nestled between them. He placed the wine glasses on the table and looked at the ocean.

  “You can see the lights at Fort Sumter from here.”

  “You sure can. Isn’t it beautiful and peaceful? I try to convince myself that if I look just a little bit harder, I’ll see St. Thomas.”

  “Well, you’d have to have pretty good vision for that. Has anyone else ever been up here with you?”

  “Only Mel and Betsy. This place is too special to share with just anybody.”

  “I feel privileged. Thank you for bringing me up here. It really means a lot.”

  Erik got up from the lounge chair and reached for her hand. It felt as soft as silk. She stood face-to-face with him, just inches apart. He leaned in and kissed her. At first it was a gentle brush across her lips, then more, with a passion that had been building for a month. Her surprise turned into eagerness. Erik held her face in his hands, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her neck, and her lips once more. He inhaled the scent of her hair. It was as sweet as southern jasmine. Abby moaned with a deep longing to be loved, but not by anyone, only Erik Christiansen, the man who took her breath away.

  Back in her room, on that king-sized bed, with soft music playing and candles creating a warm ambience, they made love with a passion that couldn’t be denied. Abby was in a different world. The people downstairs and the problems stirred up that afternoon no longer mattered. She was in the moment, and the moment was too important to take lightly. Even though she knew better, even though she was legally married to Remy, and even though her life was more than complicated, she was falling hard, and falling in love with her wonderful Scandinavian handyman.

  “You’ll stay, right?” she asked, snuggling close to his warm body.

  “I’ll stay, but what about Brandon? It’s hard to deal with him. If he’d just mind his own business instead of throwing out the constant jabs, I could ignore him and keep my distance.”

  “I’ll talk to him and ask him to lay off the insults. All I want is peace in this house.”

  “Really, that’s all you want?” he asked as he kissed her forehead.

  “Not exactly,” she said. “Come closer, and I’ll give you a hint.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Abby woke up at seven o’clock. The open window allowed a fresh summer breeze to waft through the room. Distant gulls cried forlornly over the open water beyond the park. Erik lay next to her in bed with the blankets pulled up to his chin, sound asleep. She smiled at him and studied his perfectly symmetrical face. I wonder if this could be the real thing, real trusting love that could last forever. She rose quietly and put on the long satin robe whose hemline skimmed the glossy wooden floor. She prepared two cups of coffee in the small coffeemaker on the dresser. She heard Erik stir and turned around to see the gorgeous man smiling at her.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  She carried the two cups of coffee to bed and climbed in. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

  “Not to make you feel bad, Miss Taylor, but I do believe your mattress is of far higher quality than my own.” He grinned and gave her a lingering kiss.

  “Sorry… maybe you should spend a little more time in mine, for your back’s sake, you know?”

  “You mean to avoid a visit to the doctor and filing a worker’s compensation claim?”

  “Yeah… that’s what I meant,” she said, winking at him.

  “So, we’re going to have to face some bulging eyes when we go downstairs. Are you prepared for a snarky comment from Brandon?”

  “He isn’t running this house, I am, and I can do whatever I want. The only thing anyone knows for sure is that we had dinner upstairs together, nothing more.”

  “Okay, babe, I’m leaving it up to you. I’m going to my room to shower, but I’ll see you at breakfast.” He gave her a soft kiss, moaned, and dressed, taking the back stairs to his own room.

  Abby showered and dressed for the day. She clasped her watch and checked the time: 7:55 a.m. Okay, here we go. She carried the plates from last night into the kitchen. Luckily, everyone was already in the dining room, including Erik.

  A subtle kick under the table from Melanie told Abby in no uncertain terms that she wanted to hear everything later when there was an opportunity. Abby smiled discreetly and filled her plate with a scoop of the steaming egg-and-potato breakfast casserole. “Where’s Brandon?” she asked after noticing his chair was empty.

  Betsy spoke up. “He grabbed a cup of coffee for the road when I was making breakfast. He said he had a new case with an insurance company a half hour away and had to get an early start.”

  Thank God. No drama this morning. We can all enjoy breakfast in peace. “Oh, okay. Great breakfast casserole, Betsy. It’s delicious.”

  ***

  Abby could have set her watch according to the time the mailman arrived every day. At 12:05 p.m., he dropped the letters into the slot of the built-in mailbox on the pillar attached to the front gate. With her keys in hand, Abby walked down the sidewalk, twisted the key in the keyhole, and opened the box from the back side of the pillar. She carried the four envelopes into the house, glancing at each one as she walked. The one that caught her attention had a return address from the State of South Carolina. What the heck is this? She headed directly into the library, closed the pocket doors behind her, and sat down at the mahogany desk. Today was the day she paid the monthly bills anyway, but she needed to see what was in that envelope first. She
opened it apprehensively, knowing that once she saw the contents, she’d have to address the issue.

  “Oh no… how can the property tax be due in July?” She rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on as she read through the document. The letter acknowledged that she, Abby Melrose Bellavance, was the legal owner of the Melrose house on South Battery. Since the home had been deeded to her, she was currently the party responsible for paying the property tax. In the past, the tax had been paid in January and July, so the state took it upon themselves to continue with the same process. The payment address was provided, along with a phone number for any questions she had. She looked at the second page, afraid to see the total due. “Oh my God, how in the world am I going to pay this?” The numbers shocked her, making her head spin with worry. For half the year, a bill for twelve thousand seven hundred forty-six dollars was enclosed, due in three weeks. She took a deep breath and tried to think of a way to pay the enormous bill. Okay, I don’t have much cash left, and now I certainly can’t afford to have Brandon move out. Everyone will have to get along or at least fight quietly.

  Abby took the stairs to the third floor, two by two, and closed the bedroom door behind her. She opened a shoebox in the closet, following her mother’s example, and counted the money that was paper clipped in thousand-dollar stacks. There were three stacks and four hundred fifty-one dollars in an envelope. Her checking account balance was one thousand two hundred seventy-two dollars, but that was earmarked for household bills. If I start selling off antiques from the house, it will raise too much attention. I’m only the manager as far as everyone other than Mel and Betsy knows. Abby stared at her mother’s jewelry box on the dresser, feeling that she would surely die a painful death in hell if she sold any of Charlotte Melrose’s prized jewels. Too bad, Mom, it was you who put me in this damn position anyway. The jewelry is getting listed on eBay today. Abby yelled downstairs for Betsy to join her with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She peeked out the back window of her third-floor bedroom and saw Erik puttering around in the backyard. Good. He’ll be busy until dinnertime for sure. With the oversized box of jewelry and two glasses of wine, Abby and Betsy sat on the bed and began sorting Charlotte’s treasures.

  “Something doesn’t seem right,” Abby said. “None of these pieces look familiar now that I’m actually studying them. Where the heck is the good stuff?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I swear this isn’t my mom’s fine jewelry. Don’t you remember my parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary and that diamond necklace my dad surprised Mom with? That puppy cost him over seventy-five thousand dollars. Everything is thrown in here like it means nothing. Mom took care of the expensive pieces, and everything had its place. I know exactly what this is.”

  “What is it?”

  “Bait. Haven’t you ever seen that on TV? The homeowner puts insignificant jewelry out in the open in case the house is ever burglarized. Damn it. Where would she have put the real pieces? She had over two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry.”

  “How thoroughly have you gone through this room?”

  “Not very well, but I haven’t found anything in what I would consider the obvious places. I’m sure there’s something in here I can sell, though. Let’s separate the gold from the costume jewelry and see what we come up with. Anything that might have value, I’ll list on eBay. We’ll divide everything into two piles, one for costume jewelry and one for gold or silver.”

  Betsy stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.

  “Now what’s wrong?”

  “Are you actually saying your mom had costume jewelry?”

  Abby pondered that question for a second. “Crazy, huh?” She smirked. “She probably kept the fake baubles she had before my dad got rich, but some of them might have value since they’re considered vintage now. Don’t worry. As the Charlotte Melrose, she never wore any of it, I can guarantee you. I’ll get started if you don’t mind running downstairs and offering Erik a beer or something. Make small talk with him for five minutes. That should hold him over for at least another hour.”

  “Got it, I’ll be right back.”

  An hour later, all of Charlotte’s junk jewelry and semi-precious gemstone jewelry was divided into two piles.

  “What do you think this is worth?”

  “First, I’m not going to feel guilty, because selling these pieces will tide me over for a few weeks while I try to find the real stuff. It’s going to take a full day to take pictures, check out eBay’s completed listings to know the value, and list this junk, but even after all the fees, there’s at least a thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry sitting here. Maybe I can find some other things in the room to sell. Nobody will know the difference since they aren’t allowed up here anyway.”

  “Except Erik.” Betsy grinned.

  Abby stammered with a bright red blush, “It was that obvious, huh? Okay, your job is to keep him busy so he doesn’t wonder what I’m up to, at least for a day or two. It’s okay if Mel knows, but nobody else. I’ll bring my laptop up here and get busy starting first thing in the morning.

  ***

  After breakfast the next morning, Abby locked herself in her room and began the tedious process of listing items on eBay. She typed the descriptions with a fury and found a sunny area near the street-side window to take good pictures. She wanted even the semi-precious stones to dazzle in the sunlight, and with the professional quality camera she had brought back with her from St. Thomas, she was successful. At noon, she took a much-needed break and went downstairs for lunch.

  Erik slowly walked around the patio, inspecting the pergola he had recently completed. The wind chimes hung in front of him, swirling in the breeze and singing out a beautiful melody while glimpses of sunlight danced off each individual crystal.

  Abby joined him with a glass of tea. “We’re going to have lunch in about twenty minutes. Betsy is making grilled cheese sandwiches and pasta salad. Does that sound okay to you?” She glanced around for peering eyes before giving him a quick kiss.

  “I haven’t seen much of you since yesterday. Is everything all right? You don’t have regrets about us, do you?”

  “Oh, Lord no. I’ve been swamped with a project for the family, that’s all. I should be done in a day or two. I’m really happy about us. No worries.”

  “I am, too, and I’m sorry about the other day. I’m not going to let Brandon get under my skin anymore. He’s just a highly paid moron on an ego trip. I’ll deal with him by avoidance. That should drive him crazy.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  Erik scanned the backyard. “I think I ran out of projects here unless you can come up with something else. Do you mind if I start working on paying projects? And I don’t mean that in a bad way. Room and board is no different than pay in my opinion.”

  “Of course not. You need to do what you need to do. I’ll miss seeing your face around the house though. It’s just going to be Betsy and me from now on during the day, unless Adam and Lisa are home.” She gave him one more lingering kiss and took his hand. “Come on, lunch is ready.”

  Erik followed Abby into the kitchen and sat down to eat. Betsy had already placed a platter of grilled cheese sandwiches and a bowl of pasta salad on the table.

  After eating, Abby wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin and excused herself. She had about an hour of work left to complete before the jewelry listings would be live. She planned to go through Charlotte’s old bedroom suite methodically in hopes of finding the expensive jewelry. Meanwhile, any artwork or antiques in the room were fair game. During the day, if Erik was actually out on a paying job, Abby would glean smaller items from downstairs that nobody would miss and post them on eBay, too.

  This desperation is going to get the best of me. I have to find something to sell that has real value. Then Abby had an epiphany. Damn it, I never even followed up on Mom’s car insurance claim. I didn’t know who her agency was and forgot to ask Atto
rney Stupid Lewis that first day I met him. With Lewis Law Office already on her contact list, Abby hit the green call button next to his name.

  “Lewis Law Office, Adrianne speaking. How may I direct your call?”

  “Hey, Adrianne, it’s Abby. Is Attorney Lewis in?”

  “Yes, please hold.”

  Abby snickered. Obviously, she’s still pissed at me.

  “Hello, Abigail. I was just going to call you.”

  “Right… anyway, what have you heard from my mom’s car insurance company? There ought to be a check for me since her car was a total loss, right?”

  “Of course, but it’s been held up because of her death. They obviously couldn’t make the check out to your dearly departed mother, you know.”

  “Cut the crap. Am I getting the check or not?”

  “Yes, dear, because you’re the only next of kin stated in her will. The monetary gifts have all been paid, leaving the home and assets to you. Since the car was an asset, you rightfully own it. Keep in mind, Abigail, everything else is being held in trust until you’re forty.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m well aware of that. So when will I get the check, and how much is it for?”

  “Just one moment, I have to see if they’ve contacted me about it yet.”

  Abby was put on hold and listened to elevator music for what seemed like an eternity before Attorney Lewis picked up again. “Abigail?”

  “Yes, I’m still waiting.” She impatiently tapped her fingers on the table in her bedroom overlooking the park.

  “All right, dear, I have everything in front of me, and yes, the check is in the mail. Since your mother’s car was a V-8 Twin-turbo E-Class Mercedes sedan with low miles and—”

  “Attorney Lewis, I don’t care about the description. The car is a wreck now anyway. How much is the check?”

  “Of course. The check was cut in the amount of fifty-nine thousand seven hundred eighty-nine dollars and forty-one cents. So there you go, almost sixty thousand dollars. That seems like a low number in my opinion. Would you like me to dispute the claim?”