The Spring of Second Chances : An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘Oooh.’ She pushed herself up, hand to her belly.

  ‘The baby?’ Jack asked, concern darkening his features. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘I think it’s just wriggling, that’s all.’

  ‘Can I feel?’

  ‘I don’t know if it’s strong enough yet… here…’ Phoebe took his hand and pressed it to her bump. He was still for a while, but then he took it away with a disappointed frown.

  ‘I didn’t feel anything.’

  ‘See, the little bugger is running rings around you already.’ Phoebe grinned. ‘I don’t think you’ll be able to feel until it’s bigger.’

  ‘All this stuff I’d forgotten. It feels like another lifetime now, Rebecca expecting Maria, like a dream that I can’t quite remember.’

  ‘Are you happy now, though?’ Phoebe asked. ‘Do you think you made the right decision?’

  ‘Asking you to move in?’

  ‘Having me at all?’

  ‘God! Phoebe!’ Jack pulled her into his arms. ‘How can you ask me that? Of course I made the right decision! I’m lucky you had me back, not the other way around!’

  ‘I was just… well, sometimes I wonder. You can’t blame me if I have a little wobble every now and again.’

  ‘Of course not.’ He held her at arms’ length and gazed at her. ‘Would it help to stop the wobbles if I asked you to marry me?’

  ‘Jack… don’t be daft –’

  He rolled off the sofa and got onto one knee. ‘I don’t have a ring – I wasn’t expecting to do this tonight – but will you marry me?’

  ‘I’ve only just moved in –’

  ‘Say yes. Please say yes.’

  How could she say no? But equally, how could she shake the conviction that she just wasn’t ready for marriage yet – that neither of them was? They hadn’t even been together a year. The moving in had been quick, but this… it was too soon, wasn’t it? Marry in haste, repent at leisure, wasn’t that what people always said? But then she looked into those blue eyes – love, desperation, anxiety, hope in every amethyst fleck, and she knew she couldn’t refuse him.

  ‘Yes.’

  Jack pulled her into an embrace that was fierce with all the love and protection his proposal had promised her for the future. But she pushed him gently away.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘Not straight away,’ she said.

  ‘Okay. I can do that. When?’

  ‘I don’t know, exactly. But after the baby is born.’

  ‘If you’re worried about organising it, I can do that. Or if you’re panicking about looking fat you needn’t, you’ll look beautiful.’

  ‘It’s none of those things. I just think we should wait. What’s the rush?’

  ‘I can’t wait. I want to be married to you. What about a Christmas wedding?’

  ‘Christmas! I’ll be almost ready to pop by then!’

  ‘No you won’t, you’ll still have four weeks. It’s the perfect way to get rid of all our bad Christmas memories and it gives us around four months to arrange it – give or take a week.’

  ‘That’s not much time at all. How do you know I don’t want a huge meringue of a dress and a castle in Scotland?’

  ‘Do you? Because if you want those things I’m sure I can –’

  ‘No, Jack, I don’t. I’m happy with a quiet affair but that’s not the point. The point is that you’re rushing it for no good reason. I love you, I’ve said yes – be happy with that and let’s enjoy the idea for a while. We’ll have the baby, let things settle down and then we’ll do it.’

  ‘That’s really what you want?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He looked disappointed, but he kissed her and nodded. ‘You have to let me buy you an engagement ring, though.’

  ‘Naturally.’ Phoebe smiled.

  ‘First thing tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow? But it’s Sunday and we have a million things to do here.’

  ‘I don’t care about that.’

  ‘Nowhere decent will be open. You can’t get a ring at Sainsbury’s.’

  ‘We’ll find somewhere.’

  ‘I don’t need a ring straightaway. In fact, I can wait for months, I really don’t mind.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘No way. We’re getting one this week and that’s that. I could take you to the jewellery quarter in Birmingham. In fact, I bet loads of the dealers there will be open tomorrow…’

  ‘Jack…’ she began, but he got to his feet and grabbed their empty glasses from the mantelshelf.

  ‘You want some more juice? Not exactly champagne but I can make a nice juice cocktail for you.’

  Phoebe gave him a weak smile and watched him stride from the room, a bundle of nervous energy. She’d heard of Bridezilla, but Groomzilla? It didn’t bear thinking about.

  Jack’s proposal should have been the most glorious moment, but it continued to trouble Phoebe for some days afterwards. Since they’d got back together and he’d laid his fears about the baby bare, he had gone from disinterested to almost obsessed with Phoebe’s welfare at all times. At first she had thought it sweet that he couldn’t do enough for her, but now she was beginning to wish she could just have her normal Jack back.

  The morning after he had asked her to marry him, Phoebe had been forced to feign illness just to stop him from bundling her and Maria into the car and driving them to Birmingham to choose a ring there and then. While the romance of that was exciting, and the thought of marriage equally so, she couldn’t suppress the practical feelings that they had more pressing concerns to worry about first – namely the arrival of their baby. She supposed that she had to be glad he hadn’t taken offence at her refusal to get married right away – some men would – and that for now, at least, he had agreed to be content with her promise to let him buy her a ring some time after she had finished work for her maternity break.

  Maria, of course, had been bouncing up and down at the news that her dad was going to marry Phoebe and was already planning a bridesmaid dress that would make Cinderella’s look like a dishrag. Phoebe did feel a bit guilty that she was forcing Maria to wait for the big day – after all, asking a five-year-old to wait six months is like asking them to wait ten lifetimes. But then Phoebe reminded her that in that time her birthday would arrive, closely followed by Christmas and then her new brother or sister. It seemed to do the trick, and Maria’s disappointment, whilst still palpable, was not quite so keen.

  Monday came around and Phoebe met Midnight during their lunch break, taking their seats on the walls of the ornamental gardens in the centre of town.

  ‘So, he wants to get married?’ Midnight offered Phoebe a jelly bean.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘And you want to get married?’

  ‘Well… yes. Eventually.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  Phoebe popped the sweet into her mouth. ‘It’s his rushing that’s the problem.’

  ‘You want a big, million pound wedding?’

  ‘God, no! I couldn’t stand all the stress.’

  ‘You want a big fat wedding frock?’

  ‘I’ll be fat enough without one of those after the baby.’

  ‘So it doesn’t really matter if you get married before or after the baby.’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘Why?’

  Phoebe paused. Midnight’s response was so typically Midnight that she was beginning to wonder why she’d expected anything else. Why did it matter? How could she make Midnight understand why it mattered when she couldn’t even articulate it in her own mind? ‘It just does.’

  ‘Not good enough.’

  ‘It’s too soon.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We haven’t even been together a year yet.’

  ‘You’ve moved in and you’re having a baby together. I think the question of premature commitment is a moot point, don’t you?’

  ‘I… um… don’t know.’

  ‘I think you do know. I think you know I’m right.’

/>   Phoebe let out a sigh.

  ‘Besides,’ Midnight added, ‘I want to shop for wedding dresses. I fancy trying a few on.’

  ‘You’re not getting married.’

  ‘Yeah, but the shops don’t know that, do they? It’ll be a laugh.’

  ‘You can go and try wedding dresses on any old time, you don’t need me for that.’

  ‘Yes I do. I’m going to pretend we’re marrying each other and really freak them out when we ask for a dress each.’

  ‘I’m pregnant!’

  ‘I know. That’ll really confuse them! I can’t wait!’

  Phoebe shook her head wonderingly as Midnight leapt from the wall. How lovely it must be to inhabit Planet Midnight. What she wouldn’t give to live just one day there, where everything was a game designed especially for her and nothing ever had real consequences.

  But as they walked slowly back to work, Phoebe had to admit that, put so simply, Midnight’s argument actually made a lot of sense. Why, exactly, was she panicking at the thought of marrying Jack sooner rather than later? Common sense dictated they wait, but she was just about sick of being ruled by common sense, and it never got her anywhere anyway. Maybe Jack understood it better than even he realised. While he was better, every now and again Phoebe caught him watching her, a faraway look in his eyes, and she knew he was thinking about Rebecca. Not about how he loved and missed her, although Phoebe was sure he did those things too in private moments, but about how he might lose Phoebe in the same way, about how he felt he could have saved Rebecca if he’d been wiser and stronger, about how he needed to be ready to save Phoebe. Maybe, by marrying Phoebe, he would feel ready.

  Or maybe he thought life was simply too short to wait.

  Maria was clasping a bedraggled bunch of dandelions in her hand. As Phoebe left Hendry’s at the end of the day, she ran forward to hand them to her.

  ‘Wow! For me?’ Phoebe gave Jack a knowing grin as she took them.

  ‘We got them down there…’ Maria pointed to a grassy verge bordering the car park at the top of the high street. ‘There are lots of them there. Do you like them?’

  ‘I do. They’re very… yellow. And a bit squishy too. But yellow and squishy is good.’

  ‘Daddy said we didn’t have time to get more. But we can get some now if you like.’

  ‘You know what?’ Phoebe waggled the bunch at her. ‘This is just the perfect amount. I really don’t think we need any more.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Jack asked. Before Phoebe could reply he frowned slightly and peered closer. ‘You look tired.’

  ‘Thanks for pointing that out. Time for some new make-up, eh?’

  Jack gave her a sheepish grin. ‘Did I say tired? I meant beautiful. Beautiful and only a little bit tired.’

  ‘I’m glad we got that straightened out,’ Phoebe replied with a wry smile.

  They began to walk in the direction of the car park. ‘What brings you here anyway?’ Phoebe asked. ‘I did say I was okay to get the bus home.’

  ‘Aw, you know, we just thought we’d come and get you anyway. It gives us an excuse for a run around, get some fresh air.’

  ‘On Millrise high street? Good luck with finding your fresh air here.’

  ‘We looked at rings!’ Maria bounced up and down as if she had just answered a tricky question in class.

  Phoebe glanced at Jack, who immediately blushed. It would have been adorable if she hadn’t been mildly annoyed by the reasons behind it.

  ‘We only looked,’ he said, ‘just to see what sort of money I’d need.’

  ‘The lady showed Daddy a reeeeaaaally sparkly one and he said that one was perfect and he wanted the lady to put it away for him so no one else could have it and the lady said she needed some money and Daddy got his card out and she said that will do nicely and they both laughed and then the lady put the ring in a box and took it in the back of the shop and I don’t know where it is now…’ Maria said all this, apparently without the need to breathe at any point. Jack grimaced as he listened to his plans come flooding out, and then he looked at Phoebe with a hopeful kind of plea for forgiveness in his face.

  ‘You’re not angry, are you?’ he asked.

  ‘Hmm, and why would I be angry, I wonder?’

  ‘Because I said I’d wait and I didn’t?’

  ‘Wow, you’re sharp. Nothing gets past you, does it?’

  He gave her the second incredibly sheepish grin of the afternoon. ‘Nothing gets past this one, either, apparently…’ He ruffled Maria’s hair, who gazed up at him with a serene expression, clearly oblivious to the problems she’d caused him.

  ‘At least someone is keeping me in the loop.’ Phoebe grabbed his hand and smiled at him. All he wanted to do was show her his love. After all they had been through to get to this point, how could she be angry about that? ‘So, you’ve bought it.’

  ‘I’ve half bought it. Does that count?’

  ‘It’s close enough. Please don’t stretch yourself, though. There’s no rush and so many other expenses coming soon.’

  ‘Always the voice of reason.’ He gave Phoebe’s hand an affectionate squeeze. ‘It’s a good job I have you to sort me out.’

  ‘Well, I have to bring something to the partnership. As I can’t cook, won’t clean and make a terrible racket when I sing, the voice of reason is the only thing I have left.’

  ‘Daddy says you can’t sing,’ Maria cut in.

  ‘Oh, he does?’ Phoebe threw Jack a questioning glance.

  ‘Maria…’ he began in a tone that was tinged with a mix of humour and warning, but it was too late; she was already in full swing.

  ‘He was laughing with Archie when you were in the shower one day. He said the ceiling was cracking and Archie said his eardrums were cracking.’

  ‘Oh, he did, did he?’ Phoebe tried to look stern but it was no use. ‘Just wait until I see Archie; I’ll crack his eardrums for him.’

  ‘But I thought you already did that,’ Maria said.

  Phoebe laughed. ‘Some more, then.’

  ‘I’m sorry about the ring,’ Jack said as the laughter died down. ‘I probably should have waited for you to come and choose with me. I just got carried away. I mean, it’s so perfect and so you that I didn’t want it to get sold to anyone else and I’m sure you’ll like it –’

  ‘Jack… I don’t care what it looks like. If you’ve chosen it then I’m sure it’s gorgeous. My only worry is the money, but as you seem determined…’ She stopped walking. ‘What we talked about, you know, dates for the wedding… I’ve been thinking. You’re right, there’s no point in waiting. If you want to do it this year then let’s do it.’

  Jack beamed at her. ‘You mean that?’

  ‘God help me but yes, I do.’

  ‘That’s the best news!’ Jack pulled her into his arms and kissed her. ‘I’m going to make you so happy, just you watch!’

  ‘You already have.’ She smiled.

  Jack bent down to pick up Maria. ‘You hear that, spud? You won’t have to wait for that bridesmaid dress after all.’

  ‘Can I get it tomorrow?’ Maria asked, legs swinging as if she was subconsciously running to the nearest shop already.

  ‘Maybe the day after,’ Phoebe laughed. She looked at Jack. ‘Low key,’ she warned, although she couldn’t keep a serious face. ‘Don’t go crazy with the costs and please not loads of guests. I hate all that formal stuff and I hate being the centre of attention.’

  ‘Whatever you want you can have.’

  ‘Not too soon, either. We need some time to get a bit organised.’ They began to walk again.

  ‘No problem,’ Jack said. ‘When do you think is good?’

  Phoebe arched an eyebrow as she threw him a sideways glance. ‘I have absolutely no idea. I’ve never arranged a wedding and I don’t have a clue how long things take to organise. I only know that we can’t just pitch up at the church tomorrow morning and get hitched. At least, not if we don’t live in Las Vegas.’

 
Jack grinned. ‘We could do Vegas.’

  ‘A vicar dressed as Elvis? Maybe not.’

  ‘Mum will help. She’s going to be thrilled when we tell her.’

  ‘No mums,’ Phoebe said. ‘Not a single bit of mum involvement until the day.’

  ‘Really? I don’t think she’ll like that.’

  ‘I know. And neither will mine but their complaining will be a breeze to handle compared to their involvement.’ And then it hit her. ‘Oh God! Our parents will have to meet!’

  ‘Oh…’

  ‘That’s going to be… interesting.’

  ‘You could say that. On second thoughts, how about we just run off to Gretna Green and tell everyone after we’ve done it?’

  ‘Where’s that?’ Maria asked. Phoebe had almost forgotten she was still listening. She hoped she wouldn’t repeat any of this to either set of parents, as she seemed to be developing quite a talent for that sort of thing these days.

  ‘It’s in Scotland,’ she replied. ‘But we’re not going to go there, Daddy’s just joking. We’ll just have to be very firm with everyone and tell them that we’d like our big day to be exactly our way.’

  ‘Will I still be bridesmaid your way?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And I can choose the dress?’

  ‘You can totally choose the dress.’

  ‘How about yours?’

  ‘You want to choose mine?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll pick a nice one.’

  ‘Um… I’m sure you would. But maybe I should choose my dress. You can come with me and help – give me thumbs up or thumbs down when I try some on.’

  ‘I can do that. Is your mummy coming?’

  ‘I expect she’ll want to,’ Phoebe said, realising that her no mum rule wasn’t likely to last very long when it came down to it.

  ‘I like her.’

  Phoebe smiled. ‘She likes you too.’

  As they passed Applejack’s, a portly man, hardly taller than Phoebe, was pulling the window shutters down with the aid of a long hook.

  ‘Uncle Fred!’ Jack hailed. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Run ragged by the staff that are supposed to do this sort of thing for me,’ he huffed. ‘Five-thirty comes and they just bugger off, whether the shop’s ready for closing or not.’