As if on cue, my cell phone buzzes. I flip it open, and see that I have a text message from Cam.
Cam: How did dress shopping go? *kissy face*
Me: You’ll have to wait and find out *winky face*
Cam: Oh yeah? You get something skimpy?
I roll my eyes. Cam has always had a dirty mind, but it’s been worse ever since we had sex for the first time last summer. It had been both of our first times, which had made it really special, but ever since, Cam had been doubling down on the suggestive comments.
Me: Perv
Cam: *winky face* *kissy face* *tongue out face*
Me: Love you
Cam: Love you more
And just like that, I’m in my happy place again. In the cocoon of my bedroom, reveling in all the good times Cam and I have had together, and all the good times still to come, I let the hurt and anger from Gran and her perpetual disappointment in me wash away. Once we graduate, it will all be different. Once we graduate, Cam and I can do whatever we want, and I won’t have to have Gran’s insistence that I’m a failure hanging over me.
She doesn’t want me to ask her for help? Fine. I won’t have to.
I’m going to make something of myself, and I won’t need anything from her ever again.
PRESENT DAY
I let my hand hover over the doorknob, trying to find the courage to just turn it and step over the threshold.
Come on, Lizzie, it’s just a bedroom.
Just a bedroom. A time capsule, more like. One that contains all the memories, good and bad, I left behind all those years ago. Of course, it’s possible that when I left, Gran boxed everything up. It could be a shell of what I remember, containing nothing more than a bed and some furniture. Then again, I checked through all the boxes in both the basement and the attic, and none of them seemed to contain any of my childhood things. Maybe she just got rid of everything?
Only one way to find out.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I summon all of my courage and twist the doorknob, pushing open the door and stepping into my childhood bedroom.
Gran didn’t get rid of anything. In fact, it looks as though this room hasn’t been touched since I left for college ten years ago. My old bed is still covered in that purple polka-dot comforter I loved, and all the posters of my favorite bands and movie stars are still up on the walls, despite the corners curling in and the colors fading with time. My dresser, nightstands, and shelves are all still full of the knick-knacks I left behind, coated in a decades-worth of dust. I smile at the picture of Cam and I on the nightstand, from that record-breaking win against our rival school’s football team, and pick it up, blowing the dust off. For a moment, I’m taken aback by how young and in love we look. I lift a finger to my lips, remembering the way he kissed me, and can’t believe that was the same Cam that’s in this picture.
It's been a few days since that kiss, and I’m honestly still reeling from it. I’ve kept myself busy, keeping gran company when Cheryl lets me know she’s up and awake, meeting with her lawyer, and going through all the boxes in the basement and the attic. Gran asked me to figure out what all she had stored away, and has been slowly but surely giving me orders to throw things out, bring them to her apartment, or donate them, depending on the item. It hasn’t been easy, but unearthing all these items from the past has been cathartic in a way. Somehow, it feels like together, Gran and I are giving ourselves closure over the things that happened so long ago, and finding a way to move forward. I’ve talked to her more in the last few weeks than I have in the last several years, and I’m starting to realize how precious the time we have left together really is.
A tear snakes its way from my eye down my cheek, landing on the dusty frame of the picture, and I collapse on the bed, my body wracked with guilt.
I left so much behind when I left Rocky Point, both good and bad things. Sure, I’d wanted to escape Gran’s constant disapproval and show her I could make something of myself. But in the process, I’d lost the one thing that had gotten me through it all. I set the picture back down in its spot on the nightstand, then stand up and walk over to my closet.
I’d taken most of my clothes with me at the time, but a few things had stayed behind. Clothes that hadn’t fit or that I no longer wore remained on hangers in the closet, as well as some shoes and handbags. Tucked away behind all of that, I catch sight of an opaque dress bag, zipped up tight.
My heart thuds in my chest as I realize what it is. I dig it out, bringing it over to the bed and gently setting it down. Carefully, I unzip the bag and spread it open, smiling as I take in the deep, dark blue fabric and shiny beaded details of my Senior Prom dress. Memories flood my brain of how much fun Cam and I’d had at prom, dancing the night away to our favorite songs and going out for milkshakes at the local diner afterward with friends. It had been a perfect night, and I’d felt like a princess.
Although, Gran had been right. I’d only worn the dress once.
Before I can unpack that thought, my phone buzzes in my back pocket and I take it out and look at the screen. My stomach twists into knots at the sight of my boss Whitney’s name calling me.
“Hi, Whitney,” I say, picking it up.
“Elizabeth, thank God,” she says, emphasizing the last word. “I was starting to think you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”
Fallen off the face of the earth? I’ve only been gone a few days.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Look, how quickly can you get back here? We just got a huge campaign, and it’s going to be all hands on deck. We need you here,” she says.
“Whitney, I’m so sorry. I thought I was clear that I would need some time off to deal with my Grandmother. I have a few weeks unused vacation time, remember?”
“Yes but that was before we landed this huge contract. You can’t seriously expect to just leave us high and dry, Elizabeth. That’s not what you’re saying, right?”
Typical Whitney. Somehow, she is always able to make me feel guilty, or like I’m not being a “team player.”
“Of course not, but...”
“Good,” she says pointedly. “So, when will you be back?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “I still have quite a bit of loose ends to tie up here, I’m just not sure how long it will take.”
“Look, Elizabeth, I like you. You’re a go-getter and you’re great at your job. But we need people on our team that we can rely on, and right now I’m having some doubts,” she says, her tone dripping with forced disappointment. I swallow hard.
“You can rely on me, Whitney, I swear,” I plead.
“Then I’ll need to know when we can expect you back in the office, Elizabeth. And it can’t be a few weeks from now. Otherwise, there might not be a job for you to come back to.”
I close my eyes, inhaling a steadying breath. This can’t be happening. I thought she said I could take my vacation time to sort everything out. Now what am I going to do?
But I need my job. I have a townhouse to pay for, and bills. Plus, who knows what Gran’s situation will be. I can’t afford to lose my job.
“Elizabeth?” Whitney asks impatiently. “Are you still there?”
“Yes, sorry,” I say. “Look, give me a day or so to get things situated, and then I’ll give you a definitive answer,” I say hoping that’s enough.
“And then you’ll be back for good?”
Crap. “Yes,” I say, thinking I’ll just have to figure it out later.
“Fine,” she says. “But I’ll expect to hear from you tomorrow, Elizabeth.”
“You will,” I say. “Promise.”
The line clicks, and I tuck my phone into my back pocket, my stomach in knots. I need more than one day to figure everything out. The house is still being worked on, and I haven’t even talked to a realtor yet, but I’ll have to figure it out.
The sound of an engine rumbling startles me, and I jog downstairs and look out the front window. Cam’s black truck pulls into the driveway, f
ollowed by two large white vans with ladders on top and Tate Construction on the sides. I let out a shaky breath, my pulse quickening at the sight of Cam hopping out of his truck. I haven’t seen him since he kissed me last night, and honestly, I’m not prepared to talk about. I haven’t told anyone it happened, either. Not even Trisha, who will likely disown me for not calling her immediately after it happened. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I tell myself to calm down, then open them and step out onto the porch.
Cam’s face lights up when he sees me, and my pulse goes into overdrive. Is this what a heart attack feels like?
“Hey there,” he says, striding up to the porch and giving me a conspiratorial wink. Yep, we share a secret now. I give him a weak smile back, my nerves getting the better of me and the anxiety from my call with Whitney still hanging over me like a storm cloud.
“Hey yourself.”
“So I’ve got some good news,” Cam says. “Hank was able to wrangle up so extra help, and thinks we should be able to get the roof finished today and the inside re-drywalled. Plus, I heard back from my plumber friend and he thought it was just a pipe that needs patching, which he should be able to do tomorrow.”
I let his words sink in. “Wow,” I say. “So, all the work should be done by tomorrow?”
“Yep,” he says. “You’ll have to thank Hank, though. I don’t know how he convinced everyone to come in on a Sunday. Probably offered them insane overtime, or something like that. I’ll probably have to look into that, actually...”
“That’s really great,” I say, relief washing over me. If everything will be done by tomorrow, that means I can reach out to a realtor and have them list the property tomorrow, and get back to New York in time to save my job. I exhale a long, slow breath, Cam seemingly watching my every move. He quickly looks around at his crew, who are still unloading their trucks, grabs my hand, and then pulls me into the house. Once we’re inside, he closes the door behind us and pulls me in close to him.
“Cam, what are you doing? I ask, laughing at how sneaky and secretive he’s being. Then again, I guess we wouldn’t want the whole world to know what happened between us last night.
“Let me take you to dinner,” he says. “I still have to make up for the failed fishing trip yesterday, anyway.”
Oh, I think he made up for it. “You really don’t have to.”
“I know,” he says. “But I want to. How does tonight sound?”
I open my mouth to respond, but then close it again. Dinner would be a very public outing, and after last night, people would figure out that something happened between us. Is happening between us? Crap. I have no idea what to even think about what’s going on between Cam and I now. We really need to figure that out. Plus, I need to come up with something to tell Whitney, and fast. I’ll have to tell him I’m heading back to New York, just for a little while. I don’t want him to freak out and think I’m just up and leaving him again. I just have to figure out this thing with work so that I don’t lose my job, and I already still have so much to accomplish with the house and Gran.
Although... aren’t I just up and leaving again? My life is in New York. When everything is said and done with Gran’s house, there won’t really be a reason for me to stick around Rocky Point for awfully long. Suddenly, a terrifying thought occurs to me. Does Cam expect me to stay in Rocky Point? Does he think that because of what happened last night, I’m going to be moving my life up here?
Oh God. Lizzie, you’ve really made a mess of things.
“Hello, earth to Lizzie,” Cam says, giving me a concerned look. “Where did you go just now?”
“Nowhere,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m good.”
“So, dinner tonight?”
I have to tell him I’m going back to New York, and we have to talk about what happened last night. And I definitely can’t let him take me out to dinner on a date. Not when I’m about to potentially hurt him, again.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I have a lot on my plate today. How about tomorrow?”
If I can buy myself just a little bit of time to sort everything out, then I can tell Cam my plans and make sure he doesn’t misconstrue the situation. And maybe I’ll have figured out my feelings by then, too.
“Tomorrow night it is,” he says, grinning at me.
“And maybe we could keep it low-key,” I say, thinking of how he might react to my news. Cam cocks on eyebrow, giving me a curious look. “So we could talk,” I add. After a beat, Cam shrugs.
“I can live with that,” he says.
“Great, I’ll text you a little later today. I just have some errands to run first,” I say, opening the front door and stepping outside. Cam follows me over to my car, looking around for his crew again. They are nowhere to be found, having walked around to the back of the house where they’re setting up their ladders and equipment. Before I can get inside the car, Cam swoops down and kisses me, right in the middle of the driveway.
It catches me off guard, and for a moment I melt into his lips as they move over mine. Then, I remember we’re in public and that anyone can be watching, and I swat him away.
“What?” he asks, winking and grinning at me.
“Someone is going to see!” I whisper, playfully pushing him out of the way. He shrugs, then blows me a kiss before walking toward the back of the house.
I’m in trouble, there’s no denying that. And something tells me, leaving Rocky Point this time is going to be even more painful than last time.
WHEN I STOP BY GRAN’S apartment later that day, she is in good spirits and seeming more like herself. Well, more lively, anyway. She hasn’t said one nasty thing to me, hasn’t given me a single mean look since I stepped inside, but rather has been joking and laughing with Cheryl and me. It’s definitely out of character, at least for her to not be the least bit repulsed by my presence, but I’ll take it. For the first time in my recent memory, being with Gran feels... normal. I brought over some old photographs and yearbooks I found from when Gran was in high school, and I thought it might be fun to look through them while Gran is feeling well. When I show her the yearbook, she takes it from me and runs her small, wrinkled hands over the leatherbound cover, the year 1947 embossed in shiny, gold numbers against the dark blue leather.
Gingerly, Gran flips through the pages of the yearbook, her eyes awash in memories from her own childhood. Every now and then, she stops to show Cheryl and I a picture, or regale us with a story of she and her friends raised hell and almost got caught. It’s a side of Gran I’ve never seen. She never talked much about her past when I was growing up.
She pauses on a full-page, black and white picture of a boy in a football uniform, helmet in one arm, the other arm around a pretty, somehow familiar girl in a ruffled peasant dress, her hair done up in pin curls and a wide smile on her face. She traces her finger over the picture, a small sigh escaping her lips. Curious, I look over at Cheryl, who shrugs and mouths, no idea.
“He was so handsome,” Gran sighs, turning smiling but tearful eyes toward me. Alarmed, I scoot in closer to her.
“Who was?” I ask.
Gran smiles, a tear escaping down her cheek. “Your grandfather.”
Cheryl gasps across from me, practically falling out of her chair, and I can feel my mouth drop open, my palms going clammy in shock. My grandfather? Never once has Gran ever mentioned my grandfather, other than to tell me he died before I was born. Growing up, Gran hardly talked about anything from the past besides drilling into me all the mistakes my mother made. I’d always been curious, both about my parents and Gran’s late husband, but I never dared to ask. I always figured it would upset her, and I put a lot of effort into avoiding upsetting Gran most of the time. To think of this man that way, my grandfather... it was odd, yet somehow comforting at the same time.
But that must mean... “Gran, is that you in this photo?”
She returns her damp gaze to the picture. “Yes. That’s me and Henry Quinn, your grandfather, and the love of my life.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut, and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. I look over at Cheryl, who is dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, and then back to Gran, who is smiling wider than I’ve ever seen her before.
“Joseph was a good man,” she says. “We were high school sweethearts, and we got engaged shortly after we graduated high school, a few weeks after this photograph was taken. We were married not long after that.”
“Gran,” I say, reaching out and placing my hand in hers. She wraps her frail fingers around mine and squeezes. “I had no idea,” I say, truly in shock.
“I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I never told you about your grandfather when you were young. The memories were still too painful. But it’s not right that you know so little about your family, and I’m so...” her voice cracks, and she looks at me, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry for that, Elizabeth.”
I feel a stray tear escape from my eye and travel down my cheek. Never in a million years could I have imagined I’d have this moment with my grandmother.
“It’s okay, Gran,” I say, sniffling and patting her hand. “No need to be sorry.”
“It took me years to get pregnant,” she continues, looking between Cheryl and I as she recounts a story no one has likely heard for decades. “We were married ten whole years before I got pregnant with your mother, and when I did, we were both so thrilled. It was a dream come true, really. When your mother was born, both of us thought it was the happiest moment of our lives, bringing this little, precious bundle into the world. It wasn’t long after your mother was born, though, that Henry developed his cough. It was a horrendous cough, the kind that wracked his entire body. Sometimes, he’d be up all night just coughing and coughing...”
Gran looks out into the distance, remembering. I squeeze her hand tighter.
Second Chance Girl Page 11
