Second Chances

by T. M. Franklin

  Lydia continued to stare at him, her eyes narrowing. Carter shifted uncomfortably, swirling the cooling coffee in his cup. His sister had always had a kind of sixth sense about people—an insight that was at times downright eerie. He felt like she was looking into his soul at that moment.

  “What’s going on with you, Carter?” she asked.

  Carter laughed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Lydia propped her chin on her fists, her gaze unwavering. “Try me.”

  Carter’s smile fell as he considered Lydia’s words. What did he really have to lose?

  “I’m not the Carter you know,” he said finally.

  “What do you mean?”

  Carter took a deep breath. “I mean, this . . .” He waved his hands to indicate his surroundings. “. . . all of this . . . this world. It’s not mine. I came from another world . . . another reality.”

  “Come on, Carter,” she snorted.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Like you were serious when we were kids and you’d tell me I was adopted?” she asked. “Or when you convinced me to sleep outside because you could see the future and the house was going to catch fire? Or when—”

  “Okay, okay, I get the point,” he said, holding up his hands. “But this is different, Lyd. I swear.” He reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. “Please, Lyd.”

  She chewed on her lip for a moment, then nodded ever-so-slightly, and he took a deep breath and proceeded to tell her about the events that led up to his arrival on her couch on Christmas morning. To his surprise, she said nothing while he talked. She didn’t interrupt or comment. She just listened.

  When he finished, he looked her in the eyes, waiting for her reaction.

  “So,” she said, tugging on her ear as she often did when thinking deeply about something, “you’re saying in your world you never asked Kenzie to marry you?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you guys broke up. You never saw each other again?”

  “Not until Christmas Eve when I saw her at the party.”

  Lydia took a sip of coffee, frowning absently at the cold, bitter liquid. “And that’s why you’re so different. Why you’re so determined to fix things with Kenzie.”

  Carter nodded. “It sounds crazy, I know.”

  Lydia chuckled. “Yeah. That’s putting it mildly. It’s like an episode of The Twilight Zone.”

  “I know. And yet you haven’t run out of the room screaming.”

  She shot him a level look. “I rarely scream.”

  Carter snorted. “And you don’t think I’m crazy?”

  “Oh, you’re definitely crazy,” she said, and he smacked her in the arm.

  “Be serious.” He met his sister’s gaze. “What do you think?”

  Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know. Something’s definitely happened to you . . . and I’ve never known you to lie to me—I mean, about anything important, anyway. Crazy things happen in the world all the time—so I guess who am I to say what’s possible and what isn’t?”

  Suddenly overcome with emotion, Carter shot to his feet and yanked Lydia up into a tight hug. “Thanks.”

  She wrapped her arms around her brother and gave him a squeeze. “No problem,” she replied. “But, Carter?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I wouldn’t mention this to anyone else,” she suggested. “I’d hate to only see you during visiting hours at the asylum.”

  Carter laughed humorlessly. “Yeah. The thought did cross my mind.”

  “So what are you going to do now?” she asked.

  “Win Kenzie back.”

  “You make it sound so simple,” she said.

  Carter released her and returned to his seat. “Well, I have some help now, right?”

  Lydia grinned. “You know I’ll do whatever I can.”

  Carter showed up on Kenzie’s doorstep just after ten o’clock, clutching a bouquet of brightly colored daisies and a case of beer from the corner grocery store. Kenzie had blushed at the offering, but seemed to like the flowers even more than the roses he’d given her on their disastrous night out.

  She’d quickly put him to work chopping vegetables for a thick beef stew and Carter enjoyed the quiet camaraderie as they worked, the kids coloring at the breakfast bar. Brady was uncharacteristically quiet, and Carter found himself watching the boy in concern.

  “Brady,” he asked finally, “you feeling okay, buddy?”

  His son shrugged. Kenzie leaned across the breakfast bar to press her cheek to his forehead.

  “You don’t have a fever,” she murmured. “Does your tummy hurt?”

  He shook his head, scratching his crayon across the page, covering it in thick black lines.

  “What’s wrong, Brady?” Carter asked, fear and concern twisting in his stomach.

  The little boy looked up from his picture, his eyes glistening with tears. “Are you getting a divorce?” he asked.

  “What’s a divorce?” Peyton piped up.

  Carter turned panicked eyes to Kenzie, who in turn swept Peyton up into her arms. “Hey, let’s go see if we can find the football platters in the garage. Can you come help Mommy?”

  Sufficiently distracted, Peyton nodded, wiggling out of Kenzie’s grip and running toward the garage.

  Which left Carter to deal with Brady’s question.

  “Why would you ask that, buddy?” Carter sat down next to Brady, reaching out to push the hair back from his forehead.

  “Because you don’t sleep here anymore,” he said through tearful hiccups. “Tanner’s daddy stopped sleeping at his house and now his mommy and daddy are divorced and Tanner only sees his daddy on the weekends. And not even all the weekends. Only some of them.”

  Carter took a deep breath and pulled the crying little boy into his lap. “Shh . . .” he murmured, rubbing Brady’s back gently. When the worst of the sobbing had subsided, Carter turned his son slightly so he could look him in the eye.

  “Let me ask you something, Brady,” he said. “Have I ever lied to you?” He held his breath waiting for the answer, hoping he wouldn’t regret asking the question.

  Brady rubbed his fist under his nose. “No.”

  Carter smiled. “Well, then you know you can believe me when I tell you that no matter where I sleep, I will always be here for you. You and Peyton and Mommy are the most important people in the world to me.”

  Brady blinked up at him innocently. “Really?’’

  “Really,” he said firmly. “We spent the whole day together at the beach yesterday, right?”

  Brady grinned. “That was fun. I got you so wet!”

  Carter ruffled his son’s hair. “Yeah, you did . . . and I’ll be here all day today, too. And if you ever need me, and I’m not around, you just pick up the phone and call me.”

  “Even at work?” Brady asked doubtfully.

  “Any time,” Carter told him.

  Brady was silent for a moment. “So you’re not going to get a divorce?” he asked hopefully.

  Carter hesitated. He wanted to calm his son’s fears, but could he promise him that? Sure, things were looking better with Kenzie, and if it were up to him, divorce would be out of the question.

  But it wasn’t entirely up to him.

  “No.” Kenzie’s quiet voice carried from the doorway. She crossed the room, setting an armful of platters on the counter before sitting next to Carter and Brady. Her eyes were on Carter’s when she said simply, “No divorce.”

  “Really?” Brady and Carter said simultaneously.

  Kenzie nodded, her attention focusing on her son. “Mommy and Daddy are just having a time out,” she explained, reaching out to touch his cheek. “We haven’t been treating each other very nicely, but we want to do better.”

  Brady looked back and forth between his parents for a moment. “I didn’t know grownups got time outs,” he said.

  “We need them sometimes,” Kenzie admitted.

  “You should be nice,” he admonished, tur
ning to his father.

  Kenzie and Carter exchanged a smile. “You’re right,” Carter replied, “and we’re working on it, but you don’t have to worry, Brady. We’ll both always be close by when you need us.”

  Brady silently absorbed that, then slid off Carter’s lap quickly. “Okay,” he said brightly. “Can I go watch SpongeBob now?

  Carter was a little stunned by the quick change of topic, but Kenzie took it all in stride. “Peyton’s watching Dora,” she told him. “But when it’s over, you can put SpongeBob on, okay?”

  Brady agreed with a smile and ran out of the room.

  The rest of the day was relaxed and comfortable, and Carter basked in the feeling of being surrounded by family. His parents were there, as well as Stitch, who took up residence on one of the recliners and only got up to get food or run to the bathroom between plays. Lydia, Noah, Macon, and Violet arrived together, and the house was filled with cheers and boos, and the sound of the children playing.

  Carter loved every minute of it.

  After everyone left, Carter stayed behind to help Kenzie clean up. Once the leftovers had been packed away and all the dishes were washed, he helped put the kids to bed, then grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

  “Carter,” Kenzie began nervously as he reached for the doorknob. He had a feeling she was going to invite him to stay, but after a moment, she said instead, “Thank you. For all your help today.”

  Carter smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek lightly. He was determined not to push things with Kenzie. He was going to take it slow . . . let her learn to trust him again . . . woo her. He was pretty sure he could still woo with the best of them.

  “No problem,” he said. “Happy to do it. Good night, Kenzie.”

  “Night.”

  Carter walked to his car with a skip in his step, and when he lay down on Noah’s sofa, his chest felt full and warm. It felt like hope.

  True to her word, Lydia was definitely in Carter’s corner over the following weeks. She’d often accompany Carter over to the house, offering to sit with the kids so he and Kenzie could go for a walk or get a cup of coffee.

  Twice a week, Carter would leave the paper early so he could pick up the kids and Kenzie could go to her writing class in Manaskat. It took a little schedule-shifting, but with Sandi’s help, he managed to work it out, and was able to get caught up when the kids were in bed. Carter was a little surprised at how much he enjoyed the one-on-one time with his children. As he got to know them, he found himself falling even more in love with them. He longed to move back home, but he was determined that it would be Kenzie’s decision when that would happen.

  He continued to look for little ways to make Kenzie feel special—whether it was bringing her more flowers, or one of the cinnamon rolls from The Mill that she loved so much. He’d taken to dropping by the house before work a few days a week to take the kids to school and daycare. It gave Kenzie a little time to relax before heading to work and she really seemed to appreciate the gesture.

  One day he picked up a pizza from Chicago Ru’s and surprised Kenzie at school. The smile on her face when he showed up at her classroom door warmed Carter’s heart. Even though Kenzie only had a half hour for lunch, they’d spent it sitting in his car eating pizza and laughing.

  “How’s the writing class going?” Carter asked through a mouthful of cheese.

  Kenzie blushed and reached out to wipe a smudge of sauce from his cheek. “It’s good,” she said. “Jackson says I have some real talent.”

  “He’s right.”

  Kenzie picked at her pizza. “You really think so?”

  Carter smiled at her. “I know so. You’re an amazing writer.”

  Kenzie looked away, obviously embarrassed by the praise. “There’s, uh, going to be a poetry reading on the last night of class,” she said hesitantly, her face reddening even more. “It’s no big deal. We’re all going to share some of the stuff we’ve written.”

  “When?” Carter asked.

  “The twenty-seventh,” she replied. “It’s up in Manaskat, so if you can’t make it, I totally understand.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  She smiled at him. “Are you sure?”

  Carter set his pizza down and wiped his hands before tucking her hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t miss it. I’m sure my mom or Lydia will watch the kids.”

  “That really means a lot to me, Carter. Thank you.”

  “Well, it’s really pretty selfish on my part,” he replied, his mouth lifting in a smirk.

  “Selfish?”

  Carter nodded. “Of course. When you become a rich and famous author, I’ll be able to ride on your coattails.”

  Kenzie laughed, and before she ran back to her classroom through the drizzly rain, she’d thanked him and leaned over to kiss him softly, her fingers tangled in his hair.

  Carter thought it might have been the best meal he’d ever had.

  Things were going well.

  Really well.

  As Carter got ready to head to Manaskat for Kenzie’s poetry reading, he had high hopes that things would be even better after that evening.

  He’d once again picked the children up from school and daycare, feeding them an early dinner before Lydia came over to stay with them. Kenzie had left right after school again for her last class, although it would mainly be a celebration of sorts, as well as final preparations for the poetry reading.

  “Are you okay, Carter?” Lydia asked as she watched him fidget with his tie.

  A sheepish grin lit Carter’s features. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

  Lydia crossed to him, straightening his tie and smoothing the shoulders of his suit jacket. “Relax. You’ll do fine. I know it means a lot to Kenzie that you’re going to be there. And I have a sneaking suspicion you won’t be on our couch much longer.” She winked.

  Carter smiled. “You think so?”

  Lydia patted his cheek lightly. “The past few weeks have been good, right?”

  “Yeah,” Carter said simply. “They’ve been really good.”

  And they had. He and Kenzie had been spending more time together, both with and without the children. After the pizza lunch at school was so well-received, he began bringing Kenzie lunch a couple of times a week. He continued to do whatever he could to help out at home, and although he still slept at Lydia and Noah’s, there had been more and more late nights devoted to cuddling in front of the fireplace. He and Kenzie had yet to have sex, but things were definitely heating up—and he was beginning to feel that he was the one holding back, not Kenzie.

  Carter realized that to her, sex was probably not that big a deal. They had been married for ten years, after all. But for Carter, it had been ten years since he’d slept with Kenzie.

  It was a lot of pressure.

  He’d started noticing some changes on Kenzie’s part, too. She was smiling more, and he’d sometimes find her humming quietly as she worked in the kitchen or folded laundry. She seemed to take pleasure in doing little things for him as well—like making the stuffed French toast that he loved, or fixing a missing button on his favorite shirt. (He’d found he really did like flannel after all. It was pretty damn comfortable.)

  There were other changes also—times he’d turn to find Kenzie staring at him with a hot look in her eyes. She’d blush and turn away, but Carter could feel the lingering caress of her gaze. He’d done his own share of staring, of course. Kenzie’s body called to him like nothing else. It always had. And with each passing day, he felt the simmering tension and he knew the time was drawing near.

  Tonight.

  He believed . . . God knew he hoped and prayed it would be tonight.

  A guy could only take so much.

  “Carter?” Lydia’s voice jolted him out of his lascivious thoughts. “You still with me?” She laughed, waving a hand in front of his dazed eyes.

  Carter smirked and leaned over to kiss his sister’s cheek. “Not for long,” he said lightly. “I’ve got to
go. Don’t want to be late.”

  He arrived at the little restaurant about half an hour early, smiling when he spotted the minivan parked near the rear entrance. Making his way inside, he scanned the crowded room for Kenzie’s familiar face. He was a little surprised at how many people had showed up for the reading, but was also excited for Kenzie. It would make the night even more special for her.

  He finally spotted her near the stage with a group of people he assumed were her classmates. He waved when he caught her eye, pointing to the table where he was going to sit. He didn’t want to interrupt her or make her nervous, but Kenzie smiled and waved excitedly, practically skipping over to greet him.

  “You made it,” she said breathlessly.

  Carter reached out to tug playfully at the ends of her hair. “I told you I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Kenzie hesitated only briefly before she threw her arms around his neck. “Thanks for coming,” she murmured into his chest.

  Carter encircled her waist, pulling her closer as he nuzzled her neck.

  “I love you. So much,” he murmured quietly.

  Kenzie pulled back, her eyes sparkling. “I love you, too.” She bit her lip shyly. “Look, I was going to ask you this later, but now’s as good a time as any.”

  Carter reached up to stroke her cheek. “What is it?”

  Kenzie looked away nervously. “I was thinking maybe it was time for you to come home,” she said, her face flushing furiously. “I mean . . . if you want to.”

  Her eyes dropped to the floor and Carter’s heart melted. “There’s no place I would rather be,” he replied earnestly.

  Kenzie’s head popped back up and a sunny smile lit her face. “Good,” she said, “good . . . that’s . . . that’s . . .”

  “Good,” Carter concluded with a wry grin.

  Kenzie laughed. “Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder. “I have to go sit with my class, but maybe afterward we can have something to eat? Celebrate a little?”

  “That would be great,” Carter said before leaning in to kiss her softly. He’d intended the kiss to be gentle and chaste, but Kenzie apparently had other ideas. She twisted her fingers into his hair, pulling him close as she deepened the kiss. Carter’s hands clutched at her waist, and he swallowed her groans as they mingled with his own. When she finally pulled away they were both breathless and warm.