Second Chances

by H. M. Ward

  “I don’t need space, why would you think that?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. The way you reacted before, it was unexpected—like you were disappointed.”

  Fear sends cold tingles down my spine, but I cling to the smile on my lips like it’s a life raft. “Why would you think I was disappointed? Of course not! We love having you here.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course.”

  He’s a step away. I’m not sure how he got so close, but I’m suddenly aware of my loud breathing and I can’t remember how to breathe normally. He looks down at me, at my lips, and then lower. My heart slams into my ribs as pins and needles race through my arms. Is he going to kiss me? What the hell is he doing? My stomach flip flops, and when he offers me his boyish grin I melt. “Genevieve?”

  “Yeah?” I feel half-drunk with a midlife crisis crush on the lawn boy.

  “Can I have the towels, then?”

  He’s been holding out his hand. Oh God, I misread him. I laugh nervously and shove them into his hands, dropping the washcloth on the floor. “Oh, right! We wouldn’t want you walking around naked, would we?” I stoop over to pick up the little cloth at the same time Daniel does and stumble backward, not expecting him there.

  He reaches out, grabbing onto me before I fall. His eyes instantly lock on mine as he stops the fall and helps me stand, his slick body pressed to mine. “No, no one would want to see that.” He offers a half grin, an expression that I can’t read. He holds me a beat too long, but I don’t step away either. After a second he swears. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined your shirt.” He releases me and I look down. My oversized maternity shirt is covered in his sweat, grass, and some grease.

  I just smile and tell him, “It’s fine. I needed to grab a new shirt anyway. CJ got it all messed up at lunch.”

  He stands there for a moment. We both do. His gaze makes my stomach flip. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was wondering what’s under this shirt, but I know better. He’s using me as a hide-out to evade whatever unhappiness waits for him at home. “So, then, I’ll just be a second.”

  “Sure.” I watch him disappear up the stairs and let out a huff of air that I didn’t realize I was holding. I’m so stupid. I’m acting like a thirteen-year-old. Then it hits me. Flip our ages around and that’s what this is like—my feelings for him are like him having feelings for a thirteen-year-old. I lean against the wall and run my hand through my messy hair, while looking down at CJ. “I just want a friend. That’s okay, right?”

  CJ smiles happily, babbling to himself and then tries to shove a block in his mouth. I watch him, thinking too many thoughts for words. Pushing off the wall, I decide to grab a salad and set the table before Daniel comes out. I’ll change my shirt last, because with my luck, I’ll spill something all over it. After the table is set and the glasses are filled with ice, I put a few sodas on the table, before heading to the living room. Daniel is changing in my room, so I grab a shirt from the laundry basket, peel off the nasty one, and slip a new, clean shirt over my head. My back is to the staircase and I don’t hear anything until the landing creeks.

  Whirling around, I see Daniel standing there with a lopsided grin.

  Pointing a finger at him, wide-eyed, I scold him. “You did not just watch me change!”

  He smiles and slips his hands into his pockets. His hair is still damp from the shower and I swear to God that he’s blushing under that gorgeous tan. “I did not just watch you change.”

  I smirk and walk toward him. Laughing, I shove his chest. “Liar!”

  He laughs with me, holding up his hands. “I swear to God, I didn’t see anything. I came down the stairs and when I looked up, you’d already pulled the shirt on. Besides, it’s not my fault. I didn’t expect to come down here and have you for dinner. I thought we were just friends.” He’s laughing now, smiling like he can’t stop.

  “I’m not on the menu.”

  He kicks the toe of his shoe on the floor. “Well, that’s too bad. It would have made an interesting evening.” His tone is light and teasing. For the life of me, I can’t tell if he’s serious or playing.

  *****

  With both of us cleaned up and feeling human again, we order a pizza and I make a salad so that I'll feel like I had a healthy dinner. Once the food arrives, we sit down at the table to eat. CJ is in his highchair, banging his spoon on the tray while we talk.

  "So, why didn't you want to go home?" Maybe I’m prying, but I really want to know.

  Daniel puts his slice of pizza down on the plate, looking like this is the last conversation he wants to have. When I start to take back my question though, he shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop me. "It's okay. I don't mind telling you, it's just not a happy story." He runs a hand through his still damp hair before telling me, "My dad isn't thrilled about my choices. He wants me to go work for him, to be a part of his company, and I really don't want to be stuck doing his bidding for the rest of my life. I want to make my own way and be my own boss. I thought he'd understand that, especially since he built his company by himself. But, instead, he's angry. It's a constant battle with him over my landscaping business. He’s adamant that I'll never make it. He’s waiting for me to crawl back to him and beg forgiveness when I fail. What he doesn't understand is that his constant bitching and yelling just makes me more determined to work harder to prove him wrong."

  I stare at him, my mouth open. I never would have guessed this warm, friendly man is constantly being ridiculed by his father. But, I understand. Poking at a leaf of lettuce, I confess, "I know how it feels to have a parent treat you that way. My dad is awesome, but my mom... she is hypercritical of everything I do. When I got engaged, she told me we'd end up divorced in less than a year. When we moved away to another base, she told me I'd never be able to handle his deployments and it would split us apart. Each time she was wrong, it was like she'd take it as a personal slight and she'd be even more critical the next time."

  "But when I lost Cade—I still don't understand why they say lost, it's not like I just misplaced him—I had just found out I was pregnant, and she was great. At least, she was at first. Then, she started complaining about what I was eating, how much I was eating, and before long she was back to criticizing everything. If I bought maternity clothes, they were too baggy, or they made me look frumpy.”

  I laugh, and mimic her voice. “Genny, you need to find a man.” Dropping my mom act, I go on, “Like my life won't be good and full unless I have someone to take care of me. It's a complete one-eighty from the way she was while Cade was around. Back then it was all, ‘you're too young and you need to live your life before you get tied down.’ Now she acts like I'm a spinster that no one wants."

  I don't even notice the few tears that started to trail down my cheeks, not until he uses his thumb to wipe them away. He doesn't immediately remove his hand, leaving it cupping my cheek. I can feel my face flush at the way he's looking at me. His eyes are studying me, and I begin to feel naked. Like he can see everything I'm thinking and feeling, like he understands me.

  "No one should ever treat you that way," he says fervently, his voice full of conviction. "You deserve so much better than that, Genevieve." The earnest expression on his face is too much and I have to drop my eyes to break the connection.

  I still feel his gaze like a caress against my skin, and combined with him touching my face, I want to crawl across the table and wrap myself in his arms. He makes me feel so many things that I never thought I'd feel again. The problem is, after two years alone, I have the self-awareness to know that while I want to be as close to him as possible, I'm also terrified of letting someone else in. I don't think I could deal with any kind of loss again. It's easier to stay alone, keeping my distance from everyone and bearing the steady ache in my chest to avoid even the possibility of going through the kind of pain I went through losing Cade.

  With the weight of the conversation hanging between us, we come to an unspoken agreement to li
ghten the mood. Daniel drags me into the living room and pulls me onto the couch beside him. The television flips on and we spend the rest of the night watching some reality show. It’s about people who have had deep, loving, online relationships, only to find out that the person they thought they knew wasn't real at all. I'd never seen it before, but by the end of the night, I'm completely hooked. I'm also absolutely positive that online dating is not in my future. Sorry, Mom!

  Chapter 10

  A routine develops where Daniel comes over to work on the yard or fix something in this monster of a house, since something is always breaking, and then stays for dinner. He uses my shower, while I make dinner and then we watch really bad reality television.

  Today’s no different, except that he brought me tacos from my favorite local Mexican place, and I wasn't expecting him tonight. Luckily, I was only planning on making myself a salad. I’m going to start slimming down this massive mommy butt. Watching sweat trickle down Daniel’s back each day has inspired me. Which is good, because it coincides with my mother's force-Genevieve-to-find-a-man plan. She told me all about it when she picked up CJ for the night. She scolded me thoroughly, told me that it was time to lose the thunder-thighs, and walked back down the walk, side by side with my boy, his little fingers wrapped around her pinky.

  But, after the emotional assault, I was much more interested in what Daniel brought. Who wants a salad when there’s a taco and a burrito with my name on them?

  We eat in companionable silence. But, noticing how quiet I am from the fight with my mom, Daniel starts to tease me lightly when we begin cleaning up.

  "Here, let me help." Daniel laughs as he makes a move to grab the plates from my hands. Moving faster than I ever thought I could, I manage to keep them out of his grasp, but his arms end up almost around me.

  I can't stop the giggle that bubbles up my throat. "No, really. It's okay. I've got it. You did dinner, I'll do the dishes."

  "Don't be ridiculous." He’s grinning at me with a wonderful smile that makes me want to melt. "I didn't do anything. All I did was pick up the food."

  "Really, it's okay. Go sit down and relax! I know how hot it was today, and you spent most of the afternoon outside in the sun." He watches me, but lets me get to the stove thinking that I've won.

  Suddenly his hands are on my waist and he picks me up and moves me out of his way, before stepping into my place at the sink and handing me the dish towel. "You dry, I'll wash. Deal?" Still in shock at the way he just manhandled me, I don't respond. I stand with wide eyes, and my jaw dropped, for way too long before a giggly sound comes out of my mouth.

  Jabbing a finger at the side of his face, I say, "You did NOT just do that! What the hell, Daniel? All thinking you can come into my house and toss me around like a rag doll." I'm trying to sound angry, but in reality the situation is so unreal that I can't decide if I want to stomp my foot or laugh out loud. The mischievous grin on his face makes the decision for me, and I bust out laughing.

  He looks up at me from under his lashes and warmth pools in my stomach. “You are anything but a rag doll.” As Daniel says it, he reaches over like he's going to cup my cheek, but instead he drags his cold, wet fingers down my throat, letting drops of cold water drip down my shirt and run between my breasts.

  Jumping back, I shriek "Oh my God, that's COLD!" I can't believe he just dripped cold water down my shirt! But, one glance at the smirk on his face tells me that he's not finished yet. He's still standing in front of the sink, a glass full of water in his hand, and I back away slowly. My hands are straight out in front of me, in desperate supplication. "Oh, no. Don’t you dare!"

  Daniel laughs and steps toward me, and in a rapid move, I’m wrapped in his arms with the cup of water tipped slightly above my head. “Your call, Genevieve. Who’s cleaning up dinner? The correct answer is, you are Daniel, the most awesome lawn man I’ve ever known.”

  I burst out laughing. “Yeah, I’m not saying that.” He tips the cup of water and it begins to dribble down my neck. I gasp and add, “Screw that! I am doing the dishes, not you. So take your tight butt over to the couch and—”

  Cutting me off, I can hear the laughter in his voice. “We can discuss my butt later, but you need a lesson in listening and I know just the thing.”

  “Don’t you dare!” He’s still holding me tight, my back to his chest. I struggle to get away, just going through the motions. I’m laughing so hard that I’ll probably fall on the floor anyway.

  “Say it!”

  “No!” I laugh and he dribbles more of the water down the front of my shirt. That’s when I fight him for the cup and seriously lose. He dumps the rest of the water right over my head.

  It drips off the edge of my nose, and my hair is stuck to my face. My shirt is totally soaked and sticking to me like a second skin. I stand there, shoulders hunched, breathing hard. “You’re going to regret that.”

  Darting out of the kitchen, I run to the bathroom, ignoring the makeup running down my cheeks. I lock the door and fill CJ’s bath bucket with cold water from the tub.

  Pressing my ear to the door, I listen for any sound that will let me know if Daniel's standing in the hall, but it's dead silent. After waiting a few more minutes, just to be sure, I start to open the door. Before I can even peek through the crack, I'm pushed backwards by Daniel, and bump against the sink. This close to me, I realize just how tall he really is. I have to tip my head back to look him in the eye, and when I do he grabs the bucket from me and holds it above my head.

  Just before he tips it over, there's a loud CRASH from the other room. We both stare at each other, eyes wide, for just a second before racing toward the sound. I know it's not CJ because he's with mom, but I can't think of anything that could have made such a huge crash.

  We practically skid into the dining room and my hands fly up to cover my mouth. The beautiful antique chandelier is lying, shattered, on top of the dining room table. The floor is covered in shattered glass and crystal.

  "Be careful!" My voice breaks with the emotions I can barely keep inside. There isn't anywhere in this house that doesn't have a memory of my husband. This chandelier was what drew us to the house, and now it's gone, just like he is.

  Daniel picks his way around all the broken crystal while I run to get a broom and dustpan to sweep it all up. It physically hurts each time I have to empty the dustpan into the trashcan. It's silly, but it feels like I'm getting rid of another memory of Cade. I start to cry, and god, I'm so tired of crying. I’m transforming into a weepy mess, the opposite of the girl I want Daniel to see.

  "Oh, baby, I’m so sorry," he says, coming over to hold me in his strong embrace. Clutching his shirt, I let the tears fall freely even though I know I'll regret it when I'm alone later. I don't even register the endearment he used. Daniel rubs my back, murmuring things I can't make out in an attempt to comfort me. When I finally stop crying, I'm mortified that his light grey shirt is soaked through with my tears. I have got to stop turning into an emotional basket case, especially when he's around.

  "I'm so sorry," I whisper, dropping my head in my hands and wishing I could take back the last five minutes. Of course, I got to be in his arms, so I don't really want to take them back. It's a vicious cycle of want versus guilt and it sucks. I want Dan, but I miss Cade. I don’t know how to sort out the two feelings. Wanting Daniel makes the guilt practically choke me.

  Daniel puts his hand under my chin, tipping my head back so that I'm forced to meet his eyes. "Stop that. You don't have anything to be sorry for." He looks uncertain suddenly, but I understand why at his next words. "Do you want to talk about it though? I promise I'm a pretty great listener." His smile is one of my favorite things, and I never can say no to it.

  "It's silly, really." He raises an eyebrow, and I know he's saying to tell him anyway, even though he doesn't speak a word. "Okay, fine," I huff when he doesn't give me the out I was hoping for. Or maybe I wasn't hoping for it. Fuck my life. I have no idea. "Don't say I didn'
t warn you." Daniel just smiles warmly, waiting.

  "It's just that when we first saw this house, that chandelier was the thing that really sold it to us. I thought it was beautiful, and Cade wanted me to have whatever I wanted. Even when we made plans to do renovations and redecorate the house, we left the chandelier alone. We didn't make it to this room before his last deployment, only getting to the kitchen, the living room, and our bedroom. I haven't been able to bring myself to make any changes to this room because I have so many memories of him here."

  A wistful smile spreads across my face as I remember. "The first night we were actually the owners, Cade set up a picnic in here. He had the gingham blanket, the picnic basket, champagne, and so many different finger foods. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. It's just hard, you know? I know it's only a light fixture—a thing—but it was attached to so many good times and now it’s gone, too. I feel like the objects he touched will all be gone and every memory I have will vanish." I offer a weak smile and sigh.

  Daniel's face is full of compassion when he pulls me into him again. "I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, Genevieve. You're the strongest person I know." I snort into his shirt because I know he's just trying to make me feel better. Grasping me by my shoulders, he pulls me away from him and frowns down at me. "What was that about?"

  "You and your silly questions. Dan, I'm not strong, and you don't need to pretend that I am." I shrug, trying to keep my voice light when really I want to snap at him. "I'm a lot of things, but strong? That's not one of them."

  His eyes widen when he realizes I'm serious. "Genevieve, you've been through so much in the past few years: your husband deployed; you found out you were pregnant after having tried for so long; your husband died; you went through your pregnancy alone and raise your son by yourself every day. You’ve survived all of that, plus your mother.” That makes me smile. Dan’s gaze is burning with his intensity. “You're so much stronger than you realize. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You're fucking amazing. I'm proud to be able to say I know you, and I know Cade was proud to call you his wife."