The Do-Over

by Julie A. Richman

  She pulled the silver and crystal headpiece from its box and it was all our turns to gasp.

  “Mom, put it on me.” Scarlett was shaking with excitement.

  The moment it was situated on her head, she pulled out her cell to take a selfie.

  “Oh my God, I like literally can’t believe he did this. I have to send him a picture.”

  “Who?” Jill asked.

  “Wes. He calls me Princess. This has to be from him.” She snapped another photo of herself with her head tilted, then began to type. Immediately, her phone buzzed back. “Oh, he’s bummed we left and didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

  “Make sure you thank him.”

  “I did,” and she typed something else. “I can’t believe he got me this.”

  “Tara, why don’t you take a look in your giftbag and see if there is anything special in yours,” urged Laynie.

  I laughed, “I think not.” Digging in the bag, I pulled out the shirt, then the headphones, a bunch of papers, and then the truffles. Reaching back down in the bag, my fingers wrapped around a small box wrapped in silver paper with a silver ribbon.

  “That matches your dress,” Jill commented.

  With shaking hands, I removed the ribbon and paper. The box said Michou. My heart felt like a stopper in my throat.

  “Michou,” I said softly.

  “Did he know you love her designs?” Laynie was waiting for me to open the box.

  “He’s seen me wear Michou pieces, but we’d never talked about it.” I was shocked at how observant he’d been.

  “Mom, open it. I’m like literally dying.”

  Opening the box, its contents were as perfect and as personal as Scarlett’s tiara had been. Opening my purse, I grabbed a tissue to dab at my eyes. This was us.

  “What is it, Mom?”

  I lifted the round matte silver pin from its box.

  “That is gorgeous.” Jill leaned in for a closer look.

  The pin was made of silver and gold with a mélange of stones in an array of blue hues. The gold laid on the silver was in the shape of moons, stars, shooting stars and planets. It was a gorgeous depiction of the cosmos, the night sky. It was us and had been from the first night we met.

  Laynie reached out her hand and I gave her the pin. “It’s really magnificent. And you know he purchased this prior to his conversation with our little princess tonight.”

  I nodded, letting that sink in and wondered if Wes and I would ever get to the same side of the bridge or would Julien Matthews always be taking the toll?

  Chapter 24

  As we waited in the conference room for Chris to arrive for the Monday morning staff meeting, the giftbags and Flourless Chocolate Torte dominated the conversation. I had opted not to mention the extra little box in my gift bag which I had thanked Wes for via text over the weekend.

  Thank you for that special Michou surprise.

  It was perfect for you. I hope you liked it.

  Very much. Again, TY.

  YW

  And that had been the extent of our communications.

  At 10:15, Donna popped her head into the conference room. “Chris is on a call, he said to tell you it will be about another five minutes.

  “I used the headphones yesterday when I was running. They are sweet,” commented Jamie.

  “The whole event was first class.” Jonathan checked his phone as he spoke.

  “Sorry I’m late.” Chris burst through the door a few minutes later and took his spot at the head of the conference room table. Donna settled into the chair next to him. “So, did everyone have a good time on Saturday night? That was some event.”

  Everyone agreed and he went on. “So, I just got off the phone with Wes Bergman. The response to the PSAs was phenomenal. He was tracking the data over the weekend from the touchscreens and looking at the donation surges that came in after each of the videos played. They also had the people taking donations at the tables timestamping so that they could track back to the effectiveness of which video had spurred the donation and he’s going to use that data for his ad buys.”

  “Did they hit their target fundraising goal for the evening?” I asked.

  “He said they exceeded the goal by 36% and increased donations by nearly $1.5 million over last year’s event.”

  I started to clap and the rest of the team followed suit. Yes! We were part of what made the evening a success and the pride I felt swept away the negative feelings that had encroached on the project. In my little way, I was able to honor Stacy and Jill and countless other women and men, and their families who had all been given that heart wrenching diagnosis. This was a day where I wanted to shout out my office window, I love what I do. I felt like a soldier fighting for the cause. I knew Chris had not charged C-Kicker corporate client rates for our work and I was happy he had made that decision, in addition to our corporate and individual donations.

  “That’s right, a round of applause for this team is well deserved. I can’t tell you how proud I am of all of you and of your work. Sitting in that ballroom watching the crowd the other night, seeing how moved everyone was, was the most incredible feeling in the world. Everyone really stepped up to the plate on this one.”

  “It was pretty awesome,” Kim agreed.

  “So Wes would like to thank us all, and he’s invited the team to a party on his boat in two weeks on Saturday night.”

  My heart stopped beating with Chris’ announcement. No. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be on the Second Wind again. Not with him. And definitely not with Julien. I just couldn’t do it.

  “Oh and Tara, Wes asked specifically for you to make a jug of some special rum drink you make. He said you’d know what it was.”

  I couldn’t respond. I had to get Chris alone in his office after the meeting and tell him that I couldn’t attend. There was not a shot in hell I was going to subject myself to being caught in the confines of a boat with Julien Matthews.

  And Wes Bergman.

  That boat held so many memories for me. It was a vessel of dreams that descended into lies. In my head, I knew that I had to deal with him through the gala, that was a professional commitment I had to honor. But this? This was pure torture. And to act like nothing was wrong with his staff and my colleagues there. I could already feel my stress level elevating.

  After lunch I knocked on Chris’ office door.

  “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “I’d like to bow out of the boat party in two weeks. It’s my weekend with Scarlett and,” I never finished my sentence.

  “I’d really appreciate if you attended.”

  It was not the response I expected from Chris.

  “And I’d really appreciate a pass on this one.” I was trying to remain calm and professional externally, but my anxiety was starting to skyrocket.

  “Tara, you need to attend.” The look on his face told me not to push anymore. “Please close my door on the way out.”

  Sitting back down behind my desk, I shook my head. That may have been the single strangest conversation I’d had with Chris O’Donnell in all the years I’d known him. He’d never dismissed me like that before.

  Without saying the words suck it up and be professional, Chris had just told me in no uncertain terms to suck it up and be professional.

  Great. Now I had two weeks to stress out about this when I finally thought I was getting a break from it all, that my professional commitment was over and I could put it behind me.

  Hey, can you do me a favor? I texted Laynie. Saturday night, 2 weeks from now, can Scarlett stay with you. I just got this work thing sprung on me.

  Sure. No problem

  TY. At least I’d gotten that taken care of.

  With Tux Paint loaded on the students’ laptops as well as the ones for instructors, we started by showing the kids how to use the different stamps to create designs. With the holidays approaching, we talked about how much fun it is to recei
ve cards and how great it would be to give cards that we made. With Halloween rapidly approaching, our first digital design project was going to be to create a design that we would print out as both a card to give away and a poster to keep.

  “Mom, this is so much neater than paint. There’s gonna be no clean up.” Tech-savvy Scarlett was in her comfort zone.

  “Any time we can get the kids to use computers we’re enhancing not only their communications, but their work readiness skills, too. I can’t wait to see what they create over the next few weeks.”

  As we were printing out the projects, Camille dropped by the room.

  “The students did these?” she was astounded.

  “Yes and this was only their first time working with the program.”

  “Mind if I take some pictures of them?” she asked, whipping her cell phone out before I could respond. “I think the benefactor will be very pleased to see their donation is already at work enhancing the program.”

  “Please give them a huge thank you from me.” I hoped she would pass that along.

  “I will,” she promised. “Stacy would have been so pleased to see this.”

  Her comment hit my heart harder than I could have imagined. Was it because it was my deepest wish for Stacy to love what I was doing in her honor or was it because my emotions were heightened because I was seeing her brother tonight? Or was it a combination of the two? Regardless, I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded my head.

  “I’m really not worried about Wes,” I told Laynie. “He will be professional and not do anything to make me feel uncomfortable. It’s Julien I’m worried about. The man is a wildcard and has no respect for boundaries and for some reason he hates me.”

  “Of course he hates you, Tara.” She stated as if the answer was clear as day. “You caught onto his game and cut him off really quickly. He’s not used to that. Because of his looks, he expects women to keep coming back for his sick form of abuse. And it is abuse. You never even tried to contact him. Plus, you get in the way of his bromance. You know what a fraud he is, so he wants to keep you as far away from Wes as possible.”

  Pouring my rum whatever from the blender into an insulated travel jug, I’d already lived up to one commitment for the evening. “So, what are you and Scarlett up to tonight?” I asked.

  “Oh, we’re going to go into the city, have dinner at Le Cirque and then go downtown to a sex club.”

  Laughing, “You two have all the fun. Not fair.”

  “Actually we’re doing pizza and a movie. And I promised Scarlett she could wear her tiara.”

  “Like literally wear it, bro?” I did an impression of my daughter and we both laughed. “She is so in love with Wes.” I shook my head, smiling.

  “Like mother, like daughter.” My friend Laynie pulled no punches. “Now stop hanging out with me and go get dressed or you will be late for this shindig.”

  “It’s going to be freaking freezing on that boat,” I muttered as I left the kitchen.

  Laynie and Scarlett were on the couch watching Say Yes to the Dress when I emerged.

  “Not sexy, but very cute,” was Laynie’s assessment of my outfit, an oversized dark cranberry, funnel neck cashmere sweater, worn jeans and UGG boots.

  “I was going for warmth.”

  “Let Wes keep you warm.” Laynie had an answer for everything.

  “Let me remind you, this is a business function. And I will attempt to conduct myself with the utmost decorum.”

  Laynie turned to Scarlett, shaking her head. “Your mother is no fun anymore. I think we need to ditch her.”

  And the little traitor laughed.

  “Don’t forget to say hi to Wes from me, Mom.” She touched the tiara on top of her head and smiled.

  “Wish me luck.”

  “Oh my God, I can’t believe she chose that dress. That is like literally the ugliest thing on the planet. I would like literally not be caught dead in that really,” Scarlett said to Laynie.

  And I quietly slipped out with my jug of rum whatevers while the two of them freaked out over some bride’s bad dress choice.

  My anxiety rose the closer I got to the harbor. I was so conflicted about seeing Wes. Part of me was dying to be in his presence and the other part of me wanted to run – fast and far. He said he wanted a do-over. And that is what my heart wanted. I loved him. There was no doubt in my mind about that. But I just kept thinking, Screw me over once, shame on you. Screw me over twice, shame on me. What if this was his M.O. when shit got tough? And that really scared me, both for me and for Scarlett. She had already been through a divorce and a father who put his child bride before his daughter. She’d hit it off with Wes the same way I had. We meshed. We got each other. But I feared for her. If this actually was not an anomaly for him brought on by way too much hitting at once, then it wasn’t just my heart that would be broken, my daughter’s would as well. I didn’t know if I could let that happen.

  The fall sky had already darkened as I walked with trepidation along the dock toward where the Second Wind was berthed. I just wanted the evening to pass without incident, to successfully avoid confrontation with Julien and to peacefully co-exist with Wes and not incur any further fissures in my already fracking heart.

  Wes was on deck stringing lights as I approached. He was a man who could pull off a cream cable-knit sweater and make it look sexy. There were not many who could do that, but he was pulling it off. I took a moment, before he realized I was there, to enjoy his fine ass in faded out jeans. God, I missed him.

  “Tara,” he greeted me with a smile.

  “Am I early?” I appeared to be the first to arrive.

  Wes came and took the heavy bag with the rum jug from me and extended a hand to help me down onto the boat.

  “Hey, would you give me a hand with these lights?”

  “Sure.” I grabbed the strand and held them as high as I could while he attached small clear suction cups with hooks and placed the strand of lights into the hooks. His body grazing against mine was just destroying me and even though he seemed to be engrossed in the task at hand, I thought this has got to be messing with him, too.

  “So, is everyone else late?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry.

  His face was just inches from mine as he turned to me and shook his head no, his lips twitching as he failed to hide a smile.

  “What do you mean?” I was now totally confused.

  “Everyone’s here.”

  What was going on? Were they below deck and just being very quiet?

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  “Right here.”

  I looked around. “I just see me and you.”

  “Yeah.” Wes could no longer contain his smile.

  “Where is everyone else?” Chris? Jonathan? Renata? The dreaded Julien?

  “There is no one else. Just me and you.” He laughed and I knew he was reacting to the shocked look on my face.

  “Just me and you?” I repeated. “Do the others know that?”

  “They do.”

  Nodding, the smirk on his face told me he was pretty proud of himself.

  “So, you’re telling me Chris knew?” My voice rose a few decibels by the end of my question.

  “Well, not every detail, but he knew.” Wes took the end of the strand of lights and slid them into the last hook. “Okay, that’s done. Thank you for your help. I think it’s time for that rum stuff you brought.”

  “I think you’re right,” I readily agreed.

  Lifting a wooden bench seat, Wes pulled out two plastic cups and I poured both to the brim. Just me and Wes? I was scared. Nervous. And very relieved. No Julien. Whatever Wes and I had to say to one another, even if it ended up positively heartbreaking, it wouldn’t be ugly and hurtful like encounters with Julien.

  We clinked glasses and I asked, “So, are you going to explain?”

  “Sure,” he smiled. “The only way I knew I could get you here 100% was if you thought it was business and you couldn’t get out of it
.”

  I laughed. It was true.

  “See, I know you. So, I had to concoct this fake business party to get you here.”

  “Well, you’ve got me here.” A sip of my frozen drink made me shiver in the cold autumn air.

  “I do. And I’d like to propose something.”

  I remained silent and he continued.

  “I’d like you to spend the night talking to me under the stars. When the sun breaks the horizon, you can choose to stay or leave. If you leave, I won’t bother you again. I will let you get on with your life. I won’t pull the business from O’Donnell and Associates, unless that is what you want. And if we do remain just business colleagues, I promise I will not make it uncomfortable in any way for you.” Wes paused and took a sip of his drink. His next words were very measured and I could hear the tension in his voice. “If you choose to stay, just know you are mine and I am not letting you go again, Tara.”

  “Do you think it’s that easy?” It was a gut reaction and it was out of my mouth before I could finesse it.

  Shaking his head, “No. I don’t think it’s easy at all. I think we’re going to have to work our asses off. And I don’t mean that in a bad way, like a relationship with you is a lot of work, because it’s actually just the opposite. You are so easy to be with. We fit. We always have. I fit with Scarlett. But we’ve both been married before, so we understand the work and the compromise and the selflessness needed to make a family unit work. And as we both know, we have some shit we need to talk through.”

  I just stood there. I wanted to speak, but nothing came out.

  Putting up a finger, Wes said, “Hold that thought,” and disappeared below deck. Looking up at the stars, I took a deep breath of the cold, night air and held it in my lungs for a moment before releasing it. A few minutes later, Wes emerged balancing large Tupperware containers in one hand and two blankets tucked under his other arm.

  Placing them on the table, Wes pulled out the navy reclining seat cushions, our chairs, and set them up on the deck. The memories flooding in were making my heart pound maniacally in my chest. He grabbed the jug and the Tupperware and then brought the blankets over. I settled into my chair. I always sat in the one on the left and Wes covered our legs with a down blanket first and then a red plaid wool blanket on top of that.