Second Chance for Love Read online

  “You should go talk to her,” he said. “Abby can stay here with me and finish telling me about the unicorn in the park.” He winked at me above Abby’s head.

  “There's a unicorn in the park?” Abby asked, her eyes growing wide.

  “No, there's not, Abby.” I frowned. “And I'm not going to talk to Jetta. It wouldn't be right.”

  “Whose Jetta, Daddy?” Abby asked.

  “An old friend of your Daddy's,” Henry told her. “One he should go say hello to.”

  “Why don't you say hi to your friend?” Abby asked, tilting her head.

  “Because she's sad,” I replied. “Aren't you going to ask Henry what he meant by the unicorn in the park?”

  She looked puzzled then went back to eating her chicken nuggets. “You said there wasn't one.”

  As soon as Abby finished eating her lunch we left, skipping our usual dessert. She was upset about it and I hated to rush her. I needed to get away from Henry and his foolish ideals about love. He might have been married to the same woman for forty-two years before she died, but that was them, not us.

  What we had was long dead, and I wasn’t going to lie to myself about it. I wasn't about to get my hopes up for some pipe dream that had no chance of matching up to the reality I lived in.

  I dropped Abby off at my mother’s and drove home alone. I felt bad for upsetting her. After all, she was the only one I still had in my corner. That’s why I didn’t want her to see me angry and upset. I’d always been careful to seem happy and optimistic around her. She was a child, and children deserve to be carefree. They don’t need to be worrying about their parents.

  What really got to me after all these years, was that I still lost everything my father had threatened to take away from me after Jetta left. I ended up quitting college and he’d cut me from his will after divorcing my mother.

  Truth was, I gave Jetta up for nothing.

  Chapter 5: Jetta

  My heart skipped a beat when I saw Chase sitting outside of the diner. He was there with a little girl who looked so much like him. One part of me wanted to run into his arms while another part of me wanted to slug him. It didn't seem fair that he was living a normal, happy life after all he’d put me through. I always hear people talking about karma. Seeing him living the life we were supposed to have, while I was so miserable made me doubt its existence.

  I remember the night that I left home. I drove to his place to tell him I was leaving and to ask him to come with me. Ask isn't the right word. I begged Chase to come with me. It didn’t matter that he’d already broken up with me by that point. I saw the pain in his eyes when I crossed paths with him around town, and I knew he still loved me. At least, I had thought so up until then.

  Chase was sitting on his front porch with Melissa. She was glowing with pride and love, and it made me sick to my stomach to see them together. Still, I begged him. I poured my heart out as if she wasn’t sitting there listening to every word. She left yelling that Chase had better get this worked out, because she wasn't going to have his “black whore” show up once the baby was born.

  Her words cut me like a knife. It wasn't enough to call me a whore. The bitch had to play the race card too. I wanted to scratch her eyes out. Instead all I could do was cry. I'll admit it wasn't my proudest moment. I was making one last desperate attempt to be with the man I loved.

  “You've slept with her?” I demanded, tears rolling down my cheeks.

  “I was drunk, Jetta,” he said, trying to calm me down.

  “I don't care. Please!” I begged. “Just come with me and we'll make it work. I know we can! We just need to get somewhere away from our parents and away from this snake pit of a town!”

  Chase pulled me to him and kissed me hard. For a moment, I thought I’d finally gotten through to him. I believed that he was coming with me. After all, it didn't matter where we were as long as we were together. I allowed myself to believe that he still loved me, but all of my illusions were shattered when the kiss broke.

  “Jetta, you know I can't. She's pregnant. I've got to do right by her,” Chase said, holding my face in his hands.

  “She’s really pregnant?” I stared at him in disbelief. “What about us?”

  “Jetta, we both knew it couldn't work,” he said, turning away. “I've got to go.”

  I managed to make it back to my car before I dissolved into sobs that shook my whole body. I was still crying an hour later when his father came out and threatened to call the police if I didn't leave. I drove away, looking back in the rear-view mirror. Part of me believed that Chase would run out to stop me, but he didn't.

  As the depressing memories played through my mind, I sped up, pulling Bosco alongside me. I power walked until we were out of his sight, then I sat down on the bench in front of the new strip-mall and cried. Bosco climbed up on the bench next to me and I held him close. How pathetic was my life? That I had to cry on a dog's shoulder?

  That night Bosco and I slept in the car because there weren't any hotels in town that accepted pets.

  “Looks like it's just me and you after all,” I said as we settled down in the backseat for the night.

  Chapter 6: Chase

  I took the long way to Abby's school the next morning, just so I could drive by Jetta's mother's house to see if she was still there. I frowned when I saw that she was asleep in the backseat of her car. It was the same car she had when we were kids, and we had spent more than one night together in it parked in the woods. Knowing Jetta, she’d most likely got into an argument with her mother over the dog.

  When we were younger, I’d gotten her a puppy for her birthday because she talked about how much she’d wanted one. Her mother threw him out in the rain, forcing me to take him back. Thankfully, my own mother fell in love with him and said we could keep him. The dog still lives with her. To this day, I can't look at him without being reminded of everything I gave up.

  After I dropped Abby off at school, I made my normal stop at the diner. It was more out of habit than hunger. I hadn't had much of an appetite since I’d seen Jetta the day before. I hadn't slept much the night before either, so I sat by myself drinking black coffee trying to clear my mind. The caffeine burned away the morning fog, making the thoughts of Jetta more vivid than ever. I was worried about her now that I’d seen her sleeping in her car.

  Old habits die hard. That was the excuse I gave myself when I ordered what had once been Jetta's favorite breakfast. People change, taste changes, so for all I knew she now hated pancakes and sausage. Maybe she didn't drink soda any more either. I’d already made up my mind though and planned to follow through.

  It was my intention to leave the food on the hood of her car and be gone before she ever woke up. Maybe her mother or one of her sisters would take credit for it. That would be fine with me. It would be easier for both of us that way.

  I might have succeeded, except the Golden Retriever spotted me. He sat up and began to thump his tail against the seat. I sat the bag on the hood and tried to leave quickly, before Jetta woke up. It almost worked then I heard the engine come on and the window roll down.

  “What the hell are you doing, Chase?” she called out when I was almost to my truck.

  I yelled back without turning around. “Just bringing you breakfast.”

  “And how is Melissa going to feel about that?” she asked.

  My back was to her, but I knew she would be shaking her head and arching her brows, like she always did when she was angry with me. Under different circumstances, knowing her so well would have made me grin. Today it only stung.

  “Have no idea. Probably wouldn’t give a shit! If you ever run into her in the big city, why don’t you ask her for yourself?” I opened the door of the truck.

  I was pulling out of the drive when Jetta hopped out of the car.

  “You know,” she said. “You have some fucking nerve, Chase! Coming here at all.”

  I could tell she was angry and I started driving away. I didn't go ther
e to start a fight.

  “You're an asshole, you know that?” she yelled after me.

  “Yes, I do know that,” I said to myself and turned on the radio.

  Chapter 7: Jetta

  I retrieved the box from the hood and got back in the car. My stomach was growling though my blood was still boiling.

  “Let's see what you brought me, you asshole,” I said, popping open the to-go box, while Bosco watched intently. “You're hungry too, boy, aren't you? You're always hungry.”

  I was pleasantly surprised to find that Chase had remembered what I liked to eat. The box was full of raspberry pancakes and sausage links.

  “You're not getting any of these, Bosco, they're not good for you,” I told him. Feeling guilty for eating in front of him, I hauled his dog food out of the trunk and poured a bowl for him.

  After breakfast, I took him for a walk in the park. He chased the squirrels and I sat on a bench watching and thinking. Tomorrow was my father's funeral and I was at odds with my mother and sisters, and to top it off, Chase had brought me breakfast.

  Did he think that a to-go box from the diner was going to fix everything that went wrong between us? There weren’t enough pancakes in the world to make me forget how badly my heart ached. How much it still hurt to see him.

  Chase had mentioned that Melissa wasn't around anymore. I felt more jaded that ever because I thought that was pretty damn funny. He’d thrown me away for somebody who had done the same thing to him. Maybe karma does exist after all.

  ***

  That night, my mother finally broke down and agreed to let Bosco sleep inside the house. Only because she didn't want the neighbors to talk about how she was making me sleep in my car. My mother has always cared too much about what other people thought about her.

  I snuggled close to Bosco in the twin bed of my childhood and sobbed until the pillow was wet with tears. I cried for the loss of my father and the relationship we never had. I sobbed for my sisters and mother who hadn't quit crying since it happened and then I cried for me too.

  My sisters had their husbands to console them and tonight all I had to comfort me was Bosco. I might’ve been angry at Chase, but I longed to feel his strong arms around me, offering warmth and understanding.

  In the city, it had been easy to ignore the fact I was alone. Everyday I walked through crowded streets, allowing their noise to mask my loneliness. Here where it was quieter, the pain echoed around my soul, making it hard to breathe. At one time, I thought Chase was more important to me than the air that I breathed.

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was my air.

  That night, I dreamed that Chase's father came to Dad's funeral and danced on top of his coffin. I knew it was brought on by anxiety. Still I woke up angrier than I’d felt in years. If I’d seen the bastard at that moment, I would have socked him in the nose and enjoyed it.

  I showered and dressed for the funeral. Before leaving the city, I’d stopped to buy a dress that would be appropriate. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. My reflection looked just as awkward as I felt. It had been years since I’d worn a dress or high heels.

  I slipped into my shoes and went down for breakfast. My sisters were already dressed and gathered around our sobbing mother. I sat on the far side of the room, feeling like an outsider within my own family. To pass the time, I nibbled on a piece of cold toast though I wasn't hungry.

  I sighed in relief when it was time to leave. Since I was the only one without kids, the responsibility to drive Mama to the funeral fell on my shoulders. It was a rough ride with Mama alternating between crying and fussing at me for breaking Daddy’s heart. By the time we reached the church, I was a shaking bundle of nerves.

  Chapter 8: Chase

  I’d just gotten back from driving Abby to school when there was a knock at the door. When I didn't answer right away, they knocked louder. Aggravated, I walked to the door figuring that it was my mother, but instead Henry stood in his best Sunday suit. He gave me a big grin.

  “Why aren't you dressed?” he asked. “You can't wear that to a funeral, Chase.”

  “I'm not going to the funeral,” I said and shut the door in his face.

  Henry opened the door and stepped inside.

  “Yes, you are, young man. You may not have liked Ol' Musco, not many people did, but you have to pay respect, and I think Jetta would appreciate you being there.” He crossed his arms. “You know she's having trouble with her family. She's never been like the rest of them. She needs someone there who is on her side.”

  “That wouldn’t be me. She hates me.”

  “No, she doesn't. Don’t you know anything about women, you fool?” he asked. “She doesn't hate you. She's hurt, and if she's still hurting after all these years, the woman still loves you, and I know you love her.”

  “Mind your own business, Henry,” I said, turning to walk upstairs.

  “It is my business! Here I am a lonely, old widower. I miss my Tammy every damn day, boy, every damn day. So maybe I'm a little angry at you for having a second chance to make things right and not doing it. Not even trying. And if you're not going to try, you don't deserve her. Hell, maybe you never did!” Henry stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. “You’re a damn coward, Chase, that's what you are! A yellow-bellied coward!”

  I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands. What the hell was I supposed to do? I didn't want to make a scene at the old man's funeral, but Henry's words had struck a cord. I dressed in the suit I had worn to my uncle's funeral two years ago and headed out the door.

  Traffic crawled as the whole town moved towards the church. That's the way it was around here. People who hated you when you were alive would mourn you when you died. It never made a whole lot of sense to me.

  I was worried that everyone would think that I was trying to take advantage of Jetta's grief. Once I was caught in the flow of traffic there was no turning back. I could see Jetta's car at the front of the procession, behind the hearse. She was the reason I was putting myself through this. I would be there for her even though I wouldn't talk to her and I definitely wouldn't make a scene. It was the least I could do.

  Chapter 9: Jetta

  “Why the hell is he here, Jetta?” Mama asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

  I looked up to see Chase's truck a few cars behind us.

  “I don't know, Mama.” I sighed as we pulled into the church parking lot. “I really don’t know.”

  “He shouldn't be here. I'm going to tell him to leave. He's the reason you and your daddy had that falling out. Your father wouldn't want him here. You know that. It’s not right.”

  “Mom, stop it! Please, I’m begging you. Just stop it!” I said, killing the engine. “I can't handle this today.”

  “Oh, Jetta, you never could handle anything. Don't worry about it. I'll get rid of him!” She hopped out of the car. “I'll tell him exactly where he can take his white ass!”

  “Mom, leave it alone. If Daddy hated anything, it was someone causing a scene, so don't cause one!”

  “Fine!” She hesitated a moment then stomped off toward the church.

  I walked inside alone and sat down next to my sisters. Destiny was busy trying to get her children to sit still and be quiet. I tried not to look back over my shoulder, but I couldn't help it. I was curious to see if Chase was really going to show up. I almost sighed in relief when he walked in the church.

  It wasn't like the old days though. He wasn't going to sit next to me and hold my hand through this. Hell, even if he’d tried, I wouldn't have let him. I would’ve slapped him for having such nerve. No, Chase’s presence didn't mean I wasn't alone. It just reminded me how alone I truly was now.

  I stared at my lap while the preacher talked about good men, heaven, and how we'd all see my father again someday. My eldest sister sang Amazing Grace and talked about how much she'd miss Daddy.

  My body felt numb and the whole experience seemed surreal. This couldn't be happening. It had
to be some sort of sick joke. Daddy was alive. Any minute now he'd come out of nowhere and yell “April Fools!” or “Gotcha!” since Daddy always loved a good practical joke.

  As I stood for my turn to walk by the coffin, my knees started shaking. My sisters clung to their husbands as our mother led the procession. I took a deep breath and focused on moving my legs. This would be the last time I ever laid eyes on my father. The thought was almost more than I could bear.

  All the emotions I’d managed to hold in over the last few days were swelling up, and I was sure I was going to hit the floor. I watched in agony as Mama leaned down into the coffin, kissed his cheek and told him how much he meant to her. The preacher had to help her walk away.

  My sisters and their children said their goodbyes, and my little nephew yelled for his grandpa to wake up. Destiny held him close to her and walked on. My heart went out to him and my knees tried to buckle. I was the last in line of my family and when I stopped in front of his coffin I felt as if the air had been knocked right out of me. Tears flowed from my eyes and I tried to fight back the sobs that threatened to burst from my chest. Seeing him in the open casket was so much harder than I could’ve imagined.

  I gripped the side of the coffin tight as I studied him. Only it wasn't him. He looked too peaceful to be my father. The man that was my father was gone, and all that was here before me was an empty shell. I fell to my knees as grief tore at my heart. I heard gasps from the onlookers and heard footsteps running towards me. I looked up to see my sister Keri.

  “Come on, Jetta honey, it'll be okay,” she said, leaning down to try to help me up.

  In my ear she whispered, “Don't you dare make a damn scene. You've already put Mama through enough.”

  “I have every damn right to make a scene,” I shouted back at her. “Mama's not the only one that's been through hell! I'll make a damn scene if I want to. This is my Daddy too!”