Once Upon a Second Chance

by Marian Vere

  “Morning.”

  “You looked deep in thought.”

  “I was actually.”

  “What about?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbows.

  My heart starts to race as I look into his eyes. This is it. I know what I want, and I’m going for it. I’m in charge of me now, and I’m done with letting other people decide how I should live, and I’m certainly done with not living at all.

  I take a deep breath and—jump.

  “I want you to marry me.”

  For a second he is silent. “What?” His brow furrows and he cocks his head, shocked and confused.

  I sit up so I can face him, and he follows. “I want you to marry me. I’ve realized that every instinct I have ever had has been right, and somehow I have ignored or pushed aside every single one of them. I’ve never trusted my own judgment.” I know I’m talking way too fast, but everything wants to pour out of me all at once. “I was an idiot when I gave you up. I knew it was wrong, I didn’t want to do it, but I did it anyway, and I’ve been paying for it ever since. I know what I want and I know what I need, and they are both you. I love you, and I want you to marry me. I know this is sort of out of nowhere, and I understand if yo—”

  His lips capture mine, hands cupping my face and mouth moving gently until I think I might pass out. When he finally breaks away, I am gasping and dizzy.

  “Really?” he asks, his eyes boring into mine. “Are you sure?” There is such an incredible look of joy on his face, that it almost knocks the wind out of me.

  “Absolutely.”

  He quickly kisses me again, then turns and jumps off the bed. He grabs the room phone and dials a four-digit number. I watch him, totally confused. He sees my expression and smiles, hitting the speaker button just as someone picks up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me. Get dressed and come to my room.”

  “Nick?” It sounded like Derek.

  “Yeah, get your ass up, and come to my room.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need a favor.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Dude, it’s quarter to eight!”

  “I’m aware. Quit your bitching, and get down here.” He sets the phone back down.

  “What was that about?” I ask, slipping out of bed.

  “Here,” he says, tossing me my dress. “Get dressed. I’ll call you a car.”

  “Where am I going?”

  “Home to change,” he says as if this is all making perfect sense. “Unless you want to wear that.” He motions to the T-shirt I have on.

  “Where are we going?”

  He pulls on his jeans. “You said you want to get married, so let’s get married.”

  “What?” I squeal. He’s crazy! “Are you insane, I didn’t mean today!”

  “Why not today?” he asks, grabbing a white polo out of his suitcase.

  “Well, for starters, there are other people getting married today. I have to meet Bree and the girls for lunch at noon!”

  “Noon? Oh, well no problem then. We have plenty of time.” He glances up at me and huffs a laugh at my expression.

  “Nick, you can’t just get married in a day, this isn’t Vegas! We don’t even have a license!”

  “It doesn’t take long. They process your information there while you wait. We can have a license by ten,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Okay, smarty pants, but that doesn’t mean we’re married, and I do happen to know that you have to wait at least twenty-four hours before you can have the marriage officiated.” I feel very smart even though my knowledge consists only of what Bree told me only a week ago when she and Chris had gotten theirs.

  “Not with a Judicial Waiver, which is why I called Derek. He works at the courthouse, and I know he has friends in the City Clerk’s office. I’m sure he won’t have a problem helping us out.”

  “I…” I am speechless.

  Can we really do this?

  Nick looks at me and stops dressing. He walks over, takes my dress out of my hands, and lays it on the bed. “Look.” He takes my hands in his. “We don’t have to do this. If you want to wait and have a real wedding, of course we can.”

  I couldn’t care less about a wedding. I had never dreamed of a big to-do or a fancy dress, and I think he knows that. My sudden hesitation has nothing to do with what I want. My worry is the simple fact that he doesn’t seem to be taking the time to think this through.

  “I don’t care about a wedding,” I say, looking up into his eyes. “Say the word, and I will marry you right this second. It’s just that…” I taper off and look down at his chest.

  He lifts my chin with his finger. “What is it, Jules?” he asks, trying to hide the worry in his eyes.

  “It’s you…are you sure?” I’m being insecure, but I can’t help it. I can’t pretend like there isn’t a little voice in my head saying, How can he be with me after what I did? and He’ll never really trust me, and so on. I hold my breath, waiting for an answer, and I see the worry in his eyes soften as he seems to understand what I didn’t say.

  “Jules, I love you.” He brushes his fingers over my cheek. “Everything that’s happened is in the past and doesn’t concern me anymore. Now is what matters. Last night, when I left the garden, I thought it was over. Through all the years we were apart, I always had something in the back of my mind to hold onto. No matter how mad I was, or how indifferent I tried to be, somewhere deep inside I knew that I had the option of looking you up. I could find you again, and maybe you would take me back. I was never able to bring myself to do it, but at least there was the possibility. But last night it was gone, and I sat at that bar trying to picture the rest of my life…and I couldn’t. I’m not going to go another day without you permanently by my side, unless I absolutely have to.” By the time he finishes, tears are streaming down my cheeks. He wipes them away, and kisses my forehead. “The only part I’m worried about,” he adds with a grin, “is that I will have to spend the rest of my life being the man who was proposed to.”

  I smile, which I think was the point. “Is that so bad?” I sniff ungracefully.

  “Only slightly emasculating.” He smiles, then kisses me softly. “But I’ll get over it.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I am in the town car Nick had called to take me to my apartment, then to City Hall where I would meet him and Derek. I made sure to leave Nick’s room before Derek got there, thinking it would be best to let Nick break the news alone. I lay my head back on the seat and close my eyes, trying to contain the explosion of happiness in my chest.

  I’m getting married!

  We pull up in front of my building, when a thrilling but daunting question comes to my mind. What am I going to wear? All the way up to my apartment, I ponder my wardrobe. We had decided to go casual because we would be spending the second half of the day dressed to the nines for Bree and Chris’s wedding, and wanted to stay comfortable for as long as possible. Having only what he brought with him to choose from, Nick had decided on a white polo and jeans. He apologized, but I’m fine with his outfit. He looks amazing in anything. Regardless, I wasn’t about to make him go all the way to his apartment uptown to change.

  I stand in front of my closet, and realize that even with the casual criteria, there are still a lot decisions to make. Luckily, I had just washed my best pair of jeans. I slip them on, put on a bra, and turn my attention to shirts. I go with a flowy, light blue, V-neck blouse. I haven’t worn it yet, which makes it feel special, and something about it seems to say bridal—“something blue” and all that.

  I dress, grab my gown, shoes, jewelry, and purse for the second wedding, and make sure I have the documentation I’ll need to get a marriage license.

  Marriage license! Eeeee!

  I grab up everything in my arms and run back down to the car, trying not to trip over the hem of the gown slung over my arm.

  When I make it outside, my driver steps
out of the car to help me. “Why don’t we put that back here, Miss,” he says, taking my dress from me and laying it flat on the floor of the trunk.

  “Great, thanks!” I say, climbing back into my seat. A moment later I hear the trunk close and my driver resumes his seat behind the wheel.

  “City Hall?” he asks, shifting the town car into gear.

  “Ye—” A strange tightening at the base of my throat cuts my words short, and I realize that something is wrong.

  I’m sure today is going to be the best day of my life—hell, it already is. I have somehow managed to get the one thing I’d thought was lost to me forever. I can’t remember a time in my life when I’ve been happier than I am right now. However, there is still one little thing nagging at the back of my mind. One thing that I still have to do for this day to be perfect in every possible way. I am proud to become Nick’s wife, and I am not going to hide it. Not from anyone.

  I feel a strange and unexpected calm settle over me as I look up at the set of eyes peering at me through the rearview mirror. “Actually, I have to make one quick stop before that, but don’t worry, it’s on the way.”

  I approach the familiar office door feeling far more relaxed than I would have thought possible. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still trembling and my hands are so clammy it’s like I’ve spent the last hour washing dishes, but it’s a far cry from the hyperventilating heap on the floor I thought I’d be.

  I step through the door without knocking and close it slowly behind me.

  “Jules! Don’t you look pretty,” Lisa says, looking up from the briefcase she’s organizing, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have the wedding today?”

  “I do, but I have something I need to talk to you about first.”

  “Sure, but I’ve got a meeting with the Board of Directors and the prosecuting attorneys in ten minutes,” she tells me, turning back to her paperwork.

  “Prosecuting attorneys? Oh…Zach.”

  “Yep, so make it quick.”

  Not quite the intro I’d wanted, but I guess that’s the best I’m going to get. “I just wanted to tell you—” I pause until she looks up “—I’m getting married.”

  A full ten seconds pass before she blinks, while I stand calmly waiting for—well, honestly, I’m not sure what.

  “You’re getting married?”

  “Yes. Today, actually. I’m on my way to City Hall right now.”

  “You’re…today?” I doubt it’s possible for a person to look more shocked than Lisa does right now. “T-To who?” she stammers.

  “Nick.”

  Her mouth closes and the shock on her face is replaced by something else, though I’m not exactly sure what.

  “I love him, Lisa. I have always loved him. I found out that he still has feelings for me too, so we got back together and I asked him to marry me. His friend works at City Hall, and with his help, Nick and I will be married by lunch.”

  As I’m saying all this, I have the strange sensation of hardly recognizing my own voice, as if there is a new person inside my skin. Someone confident and sure, who can speak her mind without seeming defiant and whiny. She feels like—an adult.

  “I’m not looking for approval, or support,” I continue, “that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because you’re my sister and I love you and I wanted you to know before it happened.”

  I stand silently, waiting for a reply, ready to take it, whatever it may be. Instead of commenting or questioning, she sets the folders she’s holding down on the desk and walks over to me, placing her hands on my shoulders and looking me dead in the eye.

  “Is this what you want?” she asks slowly, emphasizing each word.

  Without breaking eye contact even for a second I answer, “Yes.”

  She lets out a small sigh as a grin pulls up one side of her mouth. “Then go get married.”

  I hold back for all of two seconds before I throw my arms around her. “Thank you!” I whisper against her shoulders, tears trailing down my cheeks. Only now do I realize how much I truly did want her approval. She is my big sister, and I will always want her to think well of me and the things I do. And yet, even in this admission, I can still see there has been a change in me; yes I will always want Lisa’s approval, but I no longer need it.

  “Okay, okay,” Lisa says after a moment, trying to hide a sniffle, “knock it off before everyone in this damn office sees me cry.” She turns back toward her desk and briefcase looking torn. Immediately I can see she’s thinking of blowing off her meeting so she can come with me.

  “Lisa, don’t. It’s fine,” I assure her. “Nick’s sister won’t be there either.” She glances back at me, indecision still heavy in her eyes. “Really, Lis, it’s okay. It’s just going to be Nick and me. That’s what we want.”

  “Oh, so I’m not invited?” she says, feigning an insult.

  “You know what I mean.” I smile. “Besides, you know you can’t miss this meeting.”

  “No, I can’t,” she says with a sigh. “All right, but only if you’re absolutely sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Wait,” she says suddenly, looking me over. “You’re not wearing that, are you?”

  “What? You said I look pretty!”

  “Well, sure, pretty for a Friday, not pretty for your wedding day! You’re not even wearing any jewelry! Come here.” She grabs my hand and pulls me over to her desk. “Sit,” she orders, turning the chair toward me with one hand and unfastening the thin string of pearls around her neck with the other. “Put these on.” She hands me not only the pearls, but the matching earrings as well.

  I do as she says, all the while listening to the sounds of drawers opening and being dug through. Just as I get the earrings in and make a move to look behind me at the noise, Lisa grabs my head.

  “Hold still.” She runs a brush through my hair. “I only have eight bobby pins, so we’ll have to make the best of it.”

  Five minutes and a few curse words later, my hair is up in a loose but elegant twist. “Thank you, Lis,” I say, turning away from the mirror, pleased with my inspection. Lisa stands a few feet away, a wistful look on her face, holding something in her hand.

  “Just one more thing.” She comes up behind me and fastens something in my hair. I turn back to the mirror and see a lovely silver brooch that I recognize from the lapel of Lisa’s winter coat. “It was Mom’s.”

  “I know,” I whisper, tears in my eyes again. I turn and hug her again, but not before catching sight of the clock. “I have to go.”

  “Oh God, me too,” she says, clearing her throat.

  We gather our respective things and walk out into the hall together. After one more quick hug, she turns down the hall to her meeting, while I make my way to the elevators. I push the “down” button feeling elated, as though the last little piece of the puzzle has fallen into place.

  As I climb back into the hired car and the driver once again asks if we’re going to City Hall, I realize that for the first time, there is nothing, not one little thing in Heaven or on Earth, preventing me from saying, “Yes.”

  20

  DEBBIE HAS REALLY OUTDONE HERSELF; the ballroom looks absolutely spectacular. With sage green tablecloths, silver chairs with taupe organza bows tied around their backs, tall candelabra-style centerpieces topped with roses dripping with crystals, a seven tiered cake that looks too perfect to be edible, and a head table fit for no less than royalty, everything is perfect.

  I’m staring in awe at the room through a tiny window on the door that separates the bridal party from the reception hall. “Spying on the party, Mrs. Kerkley?” a voice whispers just behind my shoulder.

  Nick.

  My Nick.

  My husband, Nick.

  I grin without turning. “Just admiring Debbie’s handiwork.” I feel a brush against my side as he steps up and peers through the window. His breath on my bare shoulder raises goose bumps down my arms.

  “Wow…she really went all out.” He brushes
the back of his hand down my arm, making my breath catch. “Seems like almost too much for just one wedding.” The smile is evident in his voice.

  We had both agreed this morning that our marriage would remain a secret until after today. Announcing your own wedding the same day as someone else’s is definitely tacky. Today is about Bree and Chris, and we don’t want take anything away from them. So Nick and I had agreed to stay away from each other, and act as though nothing had changed.

  But God was it hard!

  Our own wedding celebration had been wonderful—though excruciatingly short. I arrived at the City Clerk’s office to find Nick waiting for me. Within an hour and a half, we not only had our marriage license, but—thanks to Derek and his connections—we also had a Judicial Wavier allowing us to marry that same day, and a note from the desk of the Honorable Justin M. Turpin, the Judge who had signed our waiver, stating that he had a slot open to marry us at ten thirty that morning. By eleven fifteen, I was sitting in the hired car next to my husband, headed uptown for the start of the St. Charles/Langston wedding festivities.

  “Are you happy?” Nick had asked against my ear as we reclined in the back seat. Both of his arms were wrapped securely around me, and his cheek rested against my hair. Derek had graciously called his own car, insisting the newlyweds should, at the very least, have the fifteen minute drive back uptown to themselves.

  I turned and smiled up at him, bring my lips up to meet his. We spent the rest of the drive silently kissing, losing ourselves in the joy of love, and probably scandalizing the driver.

  That was to be our last contact until we got back to his room tonight, but he seemed to be having as hard of a time staying away as I was. All through Chris and Bree’s ceremony he watched me, catching my eye, and making me blush, which he seemed to find amusing. I made a point to not look his way during the photos after the wedding for fear that if I did, I would end up red-faced in every picture. Now he was pushing it even further, and with the whole bridal party only a few feet away!

  “You’re going to get us caught,” I whisper, pulling away from his hand and crossing my arms. I glance over to the rest of the bridal party, but thankfully none of them are paying any attention.