Their Last Second Chance

by Shirley Jump

  Because she was falling for Harris McCarthy all over again. Any hope of a future with him meant being honest—about the past and the present.

  Saul handed out another pretzel and put the money into the cash box on the table. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into a permanent position? Maybe co-editor on a part-time basis to start? If I retire entirely, I might go crazy. A man can only spend so many hours fishing.”

  A permanent position meant staying in Stone Gap. Giving up her life in New York and living here with her sister and her nephews. And Harris, if he did settle in this town.

  “I appreciate the offer, Saul, but—”

  He put up a hand. “Think about it. Stone Gap takes time to grow on some people. Give it another week, then come talk to me.”

  She agreed, bought a pretzel and walked away. As she wandered around the event, she talked to a few more residents, getting quotes to fill out her article, with tidbits about why they were supporting the fund-raiser, how well they knew the Kingstons and how the town had come together. The more people she talked to who raved about Stone Gap, the more she wondered if maybe she could be happy here.

  She loved New York—the busyness of it, the buildings, the constant motion. But she didn’t have a community there, not like they had here. She had neighbors, most of whom she only knew in passing. If her apartment burned down tomorrow, she couldn’t imagine the people on her block—never mind her neighborhood—doing anything more than offering some sympathy.

  Across the lawn, she saw Harris talking to Jack Barlow. Jack Barlow was a good-looking man, with a short military-style haircut, a defined body and a ready smile. But Harris—

  He was the one who made her heart skip. Damn it.

  She started to turn away—procrastinating yet again on what she needed to do—when Harris noticed her, said something to Jack, then crossed toward her. She should have left, should have gone and interviewed someone else, should have done anything other than wait, but she was rooted to the spot, watching his long stride bring him closer and closer.

  “You left in the middle of the night.”

  Damn. He got right to the point. “I had some work to do.”

  “And didn’t say anything to me.” A group of kids ran by with giant wands in their hands that trailed looping iridescent oval bubbles. “Why?”

  “We both knew this was temporary.” Which wasn’t really an answer, but there was a storm brewing in Harris’s eyes and her good intentions wavered.

  “Temporary as in over now that you got your story?”

  Melanie’s stomach plummeted. “It wasn’t about that.”

  “You called John and told him I was the one who put him out of business. Was it worth whatever you’re going to get paid?” He shook his head. “I can’t trust you. I couldn’t back then, and I clearly can’t now, either.”

  “There’s the Harris I remember. Jump to conclusions before you get your answers.” She cursed under her breath. “You’ve always been so willing to believe the worst about me, instead of giving me a chance to explain. What are you so afraid of?”

  “Me? I’m not afraid. You’re the one who runs as soon as things get too difficult. Whether it’s to someone else or back to the city.”

  “You still think that night was about someone else, don’t you?” She shook her head. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Harris, if you tried. You know, I get it that your father wasn’t a man you could trust. He hurt you, hurt your mother, hurt the people whose businesses he closed. I think that turned you into someone who thinks everyone is going to hurt you. But I’m not that person. I never was.”

  “Then what were you doing there that night, in the arms of another man?”

  “Being comforted. Because you weren’t there. Because you couldn’t wait long enough for me to explain anything. Dave was a friend from that job I had after school, the one at the pizza place. He just happened to be there when I...when the worst thing in my life happened to me.”

  Confusion filled his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “Does it even matter anymore?” She sighed. “You already see me as the enemy, as someone who used you to climb the career ladder. Because that’s a whole lot easier than opening up your heart and trusting someone, isn’t it?”

  “Or telling the truth. I’m not the only one who has trouble trusting other people.”

  “You’re right.” She thought of all the damaged relationships in her wake, the people she had pushed away because it was easier than admitting she had failed. “Trust has never come easily for me. Maybe it’s all about my mother’s constant criticism or my dad dying when I was a baby, or maybe I’m just more jaded than other people. It doesn’t matter. Because I’m tired of carrying around all these lies and mistakes. I want what Abby has. What the Barlows have. I want family and friends and love.”

  “There’s your headline for tomorrow’s paper. Be sure to run it beside an article about how Harris McCarthy broke your heart again.” He shook his head. “Goodbye, Melanie.”

  He turned on his heel and strode away. Melanie watched him go and told herself her heart wasn’t shattering. That she didn’t care. She was going back to New York, and she was going to get over Harris McCarthy.

  All over again.

  A few minutes later, Melanie made up an excuse to leave the fund-raiser. She drove around Stone Gap for a long time, watching neighbors greet each other with a friendly wave, the postman making deliveries and chatting with a customer, a family of four walking a puppy to the park. It was all so wholesome and perfect and...

  Exactly the kind of life she had thought she hated when she was young. The small town in Connecticut had felt stifling with the expectations of the people around her, the rules and restrictions. She had rebelled every chance she got, and then moved to a world as different from that as night from day.

  And where had she ended up? Right back in a small town, with rules and expectations—but this time, she viewed it all from a very different perspective, especially when it came to good people who seemed to be living very happy lives.

  It was time to stop running, she decided. To start facing the consequences of her decisions. To go after what she had always wanted and never dared to hope for.

  Melanie pulled over, sent a text, then started driving again. She had pulled into a parking space before she heard the ding of an answer. One word: Okay.

  Consequence number one, about to be faced.

  She turned off the car, then got out and walked into the Good Eatin’ Café, which, judging by the scents when she opened the glass door, fit its name. A gray-haired woman bustled forward, arms out, as if she were about to hug Melanie. “Welcome, welcome! I’m Miss Viv, the owner of the Good Eatin’ Café. Table or booth?”

  “A booth would be great, thank you.”

  “You got it.” Viv gave her a smile, then led her to a booth and handed her a menu. “Our home fries won a blue ribbon at the state fair last year, but if you ask me, the best thing on the menu is the coconut cream pie. Also a blue-ribbon winner, and absolutely perfect as any meal, not just dessert.”

  Melanie liked Viv immediately. She was gregarious without being pushy and had that same friendly air about her that seemed to be part of every resident of Stone Gap. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Miss Viv.” She ordered a coffee, then sat down to wait.

  The diner was cute, with a long counter dotted with red leather swivel stools. A display stand held sugar-dusted doughnuts beside the cash register, tempting every customer with one last treat as they paid. A burly man in a white apron hustled around the kitchen, greeting Viv as she came in and poured the coffee.

  The radio was playing oldies, songs from the ’70s that made Melanie think of summer afternoons at her grandmother’s house. The diner wasn’t too busy, with only a handful of filled tables and a couple of the bar stools occupied. She recognized a couple famili
ar faces from the building project yesterday and from the fund-raiser earlier, but didn’t remember anyone’s name. Still, people gave her friendly nods and small waves of recognition. Since most people in town were still at the fund-raiser, business at the café was light today. Melanie had been counting on that when she sent the text.

  The door to the diner opened, and her sister entered. Abby stood in the doorway, looking unsure, as if she was going to turn around and leave at any second. Melanie rose and waved toward her table.

  “I have a lot to do today,” Abby said as she sat down. Her features were icy, her voice devoid of emotion. “I’m not staying long.”

  “I just want to talk, Abs.”

  Abby sat back against the vinyl seat. “So talk. Start with telling me why you have lied to me a hundred times over the last year about you and Adam.”

  Melanie fingered the edge of the menu. “That’s not the only thing I lied about.”

  Abby didn’t say a word. The air between them chilled even more.

  “I lost my job at the magazine last year, too,” Melanie said.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me? We talk all the time, Melanie. And all you’ve been doing is lying to me, every single conversation.”

  “I lied because I was embarrassed. At first, when I lost my job, I thought I’d find another one right away. When I didn’t, so much time had gone by that I thought if I told you the truth, you would be mad at me for lying.”

  “I am mad at you for lying.” Abby shook her head, then let out a breath. “You know what? I’m not mad. I’m hurt and disappointed. When you were fifteen, I could write this kind of thing off as you being a teenager and my wild little sister. But you’re twenty-nine, almost thirty, Mel. When are you going to get your life together?”

  “My life is together. Or...it will be.” Melanie paused when the waitress dropped off her coffee. Both Abby and Melanie waved off the idea of food. “I got off track—”

  “Again.”

  “Hey, I’m not stealing from the corner market. And I’m not breaking into the school to go skinny-dipping. I got divorced and I lost my job. Those are normal, adult things.” Melanie cupped the hot mug of coffee and stared into the dark, rich brew. “But you’re right. It’s all tied back to the same thing. I’ve never felt like I could live up to your example, Abs. You were the smart one, the one who had it together, the one who knew what she wanted to do and who she wanted to be. And no matter what I did, it seemed like Ma...” Tears threatened behind her eyes, choked her voice. “Never saw me as anything other than the kid who screws up everything.”

  Abby’s features softened. “Oh, Mel, that isn’t about you. It’s about her. Ma, for whatever reason, isn’t happy with her life. Maybe she thinks complaining and criticizing will make things better. I don’t know.”

  Melanie fingered the edge of her place mat. “You’re probably right. And even if I had told her about the divorce and my job, she would have found something I did wrong with that, too.”

  “She does the same thing with me. I get that.” Abby thanked the waitress for her coffee, then reached for a pair of sugar packets. She tore off the tops and sprinkled sugar into her cup. “Why didn’t you come to me? I’m divorced. I’ve lost jobs before. I would have understood.”

  Those damned tears kept on brimming in her eyes, blurring her vision. “You were so proud of me when I got my degree and got married, then got a job. You kept going on and on about how awesome I was doing, and when things all fell apart, I just didn’t want to see that look in your eyes again.”

  “What look?”

  Melanie motioned toward her sister. “That one. The one that says, what’d you screw up this time, Melanie?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve never said that.”

  “No, you never have,” Melanie admitted. In all those years, Abby had never criticized her little sister. She’d offered gentle advice and encouragement and lots of hugs. “You’ve always helped me out and given me advice and loved me. But it was in your face. That look like you were disappointed in me.”

  “Melanie, you are smart and confident and ten times stronger than me. I’ve never been disappointed in you. If anything, I was...envious.”

  “Envious? Of me? Why?” The waitress started to approach, and Melanie waved her off.

  Abby’s face softened. “You, my little sister, had the guts to break the rules. To step out of the box. I got married right out of high school, had kids and the house in the suburbs. I got married so young, I felt like I never lived. Never got to do any of the fun things you did.”

  “You were my hero, Abby,” Melanie said. “The one who was there for me when Ma was hard on me, or I got upset about Dad. You were—and are—such a good mother and a great role model. I idolized you when I was growing up and missed you so much when you married Keith and moved out. Half the reason I acted up was because I figured I could never be as good as you, so I might as well go the opposite direction.”

  “All these years, the two of us envied each other and never said anything.”

  Melanie shrugged. “True.”

  “That’s kind of crazy.” Abby shook her head. “And this whole fight is kind of crazy.”

  The words brought a rush of relief and gratitude to Melanie’s heart. The tears she’d struggled to hold back spilled over and down her cheeks. She reached across the table and grabbed her sister’s hands. “It is. I’m so sorry, Abs. I really am.”

  “I totally forgive you. If you’ll still be my maid of honor.”

  “Of course. I already got the dress.”

  Abby laughed, then slid out of the booth the same time as Melanie. The two of them embraced in a long, tight hug. They didn’t care about the stares of the other diners or the coffee growing cold. They cried on each other’s shoulders and mended years of wounds.

  “This is an occasion that calls for two slices of pie,” Viv said. She smiled at Melanie and Abby. “On the house.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Harris headed inside the inn a little after seven. The fund-raiser had surpassed its goal, giving the Kingstons a little breathing room on top of everything they needed to finish filling the new house. John had beamed like a man who’d just won the lottery, with his kids by his side and Catherine snuggled up against his chest.

  A part of Harris envied him. A man who had a family, a woman he loved and a second chance to be the man he wanted to be with both of them. The road ahead for John and his family would have bumps and detours, but Harris was sure they would make it work. Seeing and hearing the commitment in John, and the deep love in Catherine’s face, meant this was going to be a happy ending, and for the first time since he’d made that call to John’s CFO, Harris could sleep at night.

  As for Melanie—he ignored the ache in his chest. It would go away. Someday.

  Della was sitting at the kitchen table, tallying up receipts when Harris walked in with the last load of tablecloths and dishes from the fund-raiser. “Oh, thank you, Harris. But really, you’re a guest and you shouldn’t be doing that.”

  “I don’t mind at all. I can’t believe how successful it was.” Della and her family had gone above and beyond in setting up and hosting the event. The Barlows were a popular family in town, which had drawn in people who didn’t know the Kingstons but wanted to get behind a good cause. Such a contrast to the town where he’d grown up and the love/hate relationship most people there had with his father. Harris was pretty sure that if his father was on fire, there were a lot of people who would stoke the flames instead of putting them out.

  Della smiled. “I’m not surprised. Stone Gap will always rally around one of its own.”

  “I didn’t think places like this still existed.” He pulled out a chair and sat across from her. The entire day had been wonderful and warm, infused with a giving, welcoming community spirit. He had only been to Stone Gap twice, and yet eve
ry resident greeted him like he’d lived here all his life. “I really like it here. It’s a wonderful place to live.”

  Della cocked her head and studied him. “Does that mean you’re thinking of making it a permanent stay?”

  “I am. But...”

  “It all depends on what happens with someone else who is staying at this inn?” Della laughed at Harris’s surprise. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. When you asked me to send up a private dinner for two, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.”

  Harris had thought he’d seen the same thing in Melanie’s eyes, but now he’d been wrong about her more than once. “That’s pretty much over.”

  “Such a shame. I really thought you two had something there.” Della covered his hand with her own. “One thing I’ve learned after being married for more than thirty-five years is that nothing is ever smooth and easy. It’s how you deal with the bumps you hit that makes a difference.”

  He thought about the Kingstons, and how he’d just been thinking about their future and the bumps they would encounter. They had gone through more than many people faced in their lifetimes, yet still found a way back to each other.

  “I don’t know Melanie well,” Della went on, “but I get the sense that she’s a girl with a big heart, who is afraid to trust other people with it.”

  “She lied to me, Della. To get the story about John and his family.”

  “And did you give her a chance to explain?” Della arched a brow. “I saw the two of you arguing at the fund-raiser. And it didn’t look like Melanie got a word in edgewise.”

  “Well...” The protest died in his throat. He’d done the same thing today that he had done eleven years ago. Confronted her and walked away. Hadn’t Melanie accused him of doing exactly that?

  Maybe he hadn’t changed all that much, after all. Maybe he was still leaping to conclusions instead of hearing her out.

  And maybe he kept doing that because he was afraid of what he might hear if he took the time to listen.