Second Chance Spring Read online

  I wanted to stop talking, but the words kept welling up inside me, filling my throat and spilling out. I could feel my face heating, and worst of all, my eyes were filling with tears.

  “You don’t know what it felt like to wake up in that bed every day and forget for a few minutes everything that had happened, to turn to her and then remember all over again that she was gone. To see my daughters’ faces every single day changed with the sudden awareness that even your parents can’t be fully trusted to stick around. You. Don’t. Know.”

  Callan put his beer down and turned to face me fully. Though my little brother didn’t traditionally appreciate being lectured or chastised, he didn’t appear angry. Instead, his face was clear and his eyes were full of an understanding I rarely saw in them.

  “Mac, I don’t know. I’ve never experienced those things, and shit, forgive me, but I hope I never do.” He glanced out at April and I knew he was imagining what it would be like if he lost her, if they had children and she died. He swallowed and faced me again. “And yeah, I wasn’t here when everything was happening with Linda. But I was here a year later. And I’ve been here since. I’ve been here every day to see you slogging through your life like it’s a chore to be finished. I’ve been here to see the hollow vacancy in your eyes, the pain written across your face. I’ve watched you live in the shadows that Linda’s death threw over your life and I’ve been wishing for a way to pull you out. Because dude, those kids are waiting for you to come back.”

  I did not like these words at all. I blew out a breath, but couldn’t dismiss his points entirely. Life had felt like a painful race to try to finish most of the time since I’d lost my wife.

  “Those kids deserve to know that life can be fucking awesome and beautiful, Mac. They deserve to see their dad smile and to have a house filled with something besides the fucking weirdest collection of taxidermy anyone’s ever seen, which we are totally going to talk about later, by the way, because I’m worried about this sudden obsession too.”

  “No, it’s not—”

  “Not the point right now.” He went on. For a guy who didn’t usually talk much, Callan was on a roll. “You think it’s better to not get involved with the hot doctor because she has plans to leave town. And you can’t handle another woman leaving.”

  That pretty much summed it up. Callan didn’t appear to need an answer. I just leaned back into the chair, bracing myself for the rest of his beating.

  “And that makes sense.”

  “Thank you.”

  “If you’re five.”

  “Fuck you, too.” I picked up my beer and finished it. “I’m going to need something stronger than beer if you’re going to stay up on that fucking soapbox.”

  “Just listen,” he said. “Did you try talking to her? Maybe asking whether she might consider staying here?”

  “Dude, we just met. You don’t ask someone to change their life plans after you sleep with them one time.”

  “Don’t you?” he asked, and then threw a glance at April again. She’d lived in Los Angeles when they met. It had seemed impossible, I knew. But now, here she was.

  “This is different.”

  “Why is she leaving?” he asked.

  “Bigger practice, more interesting work. More opportunities.”

  “Ever consider that a woman of a certain age who is moving to a big city for ‘more opportunities’ might mean opportunities to meet someone, settle down, get married?”

  “We definitely didn’t get into anything that serious. Dude, we really just met.”

  “Don’t you at least owe yourself that conversation?”

  I didn’t answer. It was already too late. I knew Paige was leaving soon, and I’d already tried to talk to her, though I’d had no actual idea what I wanted to say. Could I really have the conversation my brother was suggesting?

  The answer was no. I wasn’t that brave.

  I arranged for Callan and April to watch the girls the following week, and made plans to head to Virginia. I switched my allergy shot to Monday morning so I could get it on the way out of town.

  Paige’s car was not in the little parking lot outside the clinic, and I did my best to ignore the way my heart sank when pink-haired Leslie appeared in her place to give me my shot.

  “Paige isn’t around on Mondays?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  Leslie clearly knew everything and gave me a frank look that told me I wasn’t fooling her with my casual question. “She went to Baltimore.”

  I felt my eyebrows shoot up. She was gone? Already?

  “Oh,” I said, ignoring the way all the color seemed to seep out of the room, even Leslie’s hair suddenly looked flat and dull.

  I thanked her for the shot, which hurt more than normal (I had the sense Leslie did that on purpose), and drove myself to Virginia to visit the taxidermists’ office, forcing myself not to think about anything at all.

  Like a Cat out of Water

  Paige

  The two-plus hour drive to Baltimore was filled with doubt. I tried to drown out the niggling voices in my head and the feeling deep inside my gut with a healthy dose of in-car karaoke (I favored Melissa Etheridge, The Indigo Girls and Taylor Swift when no one was around), but even belting “Shake it Off” at the top of my lungs did little for me except ensure that other drivers gave me a wide berth.

  I wanted to move to Baltimore. I’d been talking forever about Singletree being small and stifling, about bigger opportunities and more interesting cases at work, about culture and cities and all the things I thought I needed.

  But now that I was on my way, setting things in motion, it was as if the tether holding me to my small hometown was being stretched beyond its limits, and either something was going to shatter or I was going to boomerang back so hard I’d break in the process.

  Still, I’d made commitments.

  And there was nothing for me at home.

  I’d outgrown Singletree.

  “This is nice,” I agreed as I walked through the second apartment I’d looked at since arriving in town. It was nice. Everything was shiny and modern, granite and stainless steel, smooth surfaces and shiny fixtures. It was clean and bright and completely devoid of personality.

  “Just ready for someone’s personal touch,” the apartment manager said.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to imagine little girls romping through my house with dogs, trying not to think about warm golden eyes smiling into mine.

  That was not my life.

  This was.

  “I’ll take it,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

  “Perfect.”

  I signed papers and got numbers to have gas and electric put in my name. I did the adult things and took care of the business I’d come to handle. I had a home in Baltimore now. And in a week, I’d move in.

  When the apartment was settled, I drove to my new office, right on time to check in there.

  “There she is!” Dr. Clifton Sheer, my new boss cried as I introduced myself to the receptionist.

  “Here I am,” I agreed, incapable of matching the level of enthusiasm the huge red-faced doctor seemed to exude at all times.

  He ushered me into the back of the huge clinic, which housed four internal medicine doctors plus nurse practitioners and several more physician’s assistants. Exam rooms were interspersed with doctor’s offices and prep rooms, and the long warren of tunnels seemed to go on forever.

  We passed doctors and staff, most of them seeming to be in a great hurry as they flew down hallways and knocked at exam room doors. And I noticed that not many of them smiled.

  “Here we are,” Dr. Sheer said, pushing open the door to a cramped dark office that held a desk, a monitor, a phone and a bookshelf. “Dr. Tanner’s new office.” He smiled at me and ushered me in, though both of us standing in the space with the huge executive desk made it feel even more cramped.

  “You should have gotten a lot of the paperwork done over email yes?” he looked at me ex
pectantly.

  “I did, yeah.” I still hadn’t officially signed my offer letter, but he didn’t seem to care. He’d told me when he’d extended the offer that they were so busy they were desperate.

  “Well we’re eager to get you in here. Don’t want to force you to wade through a mountain of red tape.” Dr. Sheer, it had become apparent in our phone calls, was a master of the mixed metaphor.

  “No, it wasn’t bad,” I assured him. “I think I still have to sign a couple things.”

  “Sure, sure, no matter,” he said, waving this away as he stepped farther into my office. “Hopefully this will work for you, Dr. Tanner. We’re eager to have you here and don’t want you to feel too much like a cat out of water.”

  “Right.”

  “Things are busy,” he said, giving me an earnest look. “I told you that on the phone. People are running around this place like chickens with their hats off half the time.”

  I wanted to laugh at that one, but managed to keep a straight face. “That does sound busy.”

  “So we’ll get the paperwork done to get you hospital privileges once you’re officially here,” he went on, “and then you’ll really be able to get your teeth wet.”

  “Right. My teeth.” I coughed, pushing down the laugh that wanted to escape my mouth. I also pushed down the thought that popped into my head—Cormac would find this guy hilarious. I knew he’d crack up if I shared some of the insanity that was flying out of Dr. Sheer’s mouth right now … but I wasn’t going to tell him about it. The days of casual conversation and sharing laughs—and other things—with Cormac, were over.

  “So,” I said as Dr. Sheer smiled at me expectantly, “what next?”

  “Well,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Now you just sign that offer letter and we’ll see you here in a week. Go home, get your things together, get yourself moved and then gird your hammies, because things will be crazy!”

  “Sure,” I said, as he waved to indicate I should move back out of the office.

  We stepped back out into the hallway, and headed toward the reception area again. I followed Dr. Sheer, pretty certain I’d get lost if I didn’t have him leading the way. We stopped just before the lobby doors.

  “Paige, we’re really happy to have you here,” he said, giving me a big grin and a sturdy handshake. “I could stand here and tell you that until the cows turn blue, but there’s no real point in that.”

  “No sir.”

  “So suffice to say, we just can’t wait. See you in a week.”

  “See you then,” I said, giving him a smile I hoped was enthusiastic and making my way slowly back through the lobby doors and out of the enormous building. I glanced back at the steel and glass structure as I got into my car in the parking lot, and felt a little twist of longing inside me for the simple brick office where my clinic was in Singletree, the quiet ease of it all. Did I really want to be one of these white-coated serious doctors, rushing down hallways?

  I sat in the car for a few minutes, letting my eyes rove the city laid out in front of me beyond the lot. People moved along sidewalks, car horns blared and traffic pulsed and grunted out on the streets. The buildings hovered over me, interspersed with tall trees that all but blocked my view of the sky overhead. The place felt alive—but also manic, edgy. It made me a little nervous.

  “I’ll get used to it,” I told myself, watching a woman roll a stroller down the sidewalk in front of the parking lot. She had another tiny person at her side, holding her hand, and my heart ached.

  Would I find the things I wanted here, in this busy, frenetic place?

  I’d put a lot of stock in listening to my gut in the past, and my gut was definitely not leaping to assurances that this was what I needed in my life right now. But I wasn’t really leaving anything behind either, was I?

  It was getting late, and I had a hotel room for the night. I decided to stay, even though everything inside me wanted to drive home instead. Maybe getting out, having some dinner in the city, and beginning the work of fitting in here would help.

  * * *

  Three hours later I was climbing into a stiff hotel room bed. I’d wandered the sidewalks, finally finding a restaurant that looked appetizing. Then I’d sat, ignored by the waitstaff, as I watched couples and groups of friends occupy the tables around me.

  As I’d eaten a burger and sipped at a beer, I’d wondered if I would become one of these exuberant city people I saw, laughing with friends and glowing under the neon lights of the bar. Would I blend in and find myself again here, in the constant motion of city life, or would I be an outsider, a small-town girl lost in the frenzy—a ‘cat out of water,’ as Dr. Sheer had put it?

  The action and noise should have energized me, made me eager to move, to try. Instead, it added stress to the hard little rock of worry that had already formed inside me, and by the time I walked back to the hotel, all I felt was dread.

  * * *

  I got home the next day to find Bobo and my sister waiting for me out on the back patio of my warm, homey cottage in Singletree.

  “You’re back!” she cried, turning toward me from her seat at the table as I stepped out the back door and sank into a chair at her side.

  “I’m back,” I confirmed. Bobo danced over and put his grinning face into my hands, making my heart warm significantly. The apartment allowed dogs, but due to the long hours I knew I’d be spending at work, I’d already arranged for Amber to take Bobo when I left. Every pat now felt like a precursor to goodbye.

  “Well, from the way you’re looking today, I’m going to guess that one of two things happened. Either you went out with your new doctor pals and partied all night long …” she looked at me thoughtfully, her eyebrows scrunching and her finger coming to the corner of her mouth. “Or you spent the night worrying and stressing and didn’t sleep at all.”

  “Ding, ding, ding, winner,” I said with no enthusiasm at all.

  “Paige,” she said, her mouth pulling into a sympathetic frown. “Why? Aren’t you excited about everything?”

  I gave Bobo a couple extra good scratches and then leaned back in my chair, feeling almost completely wrung out, but unable to pinpoint exactly why. “I was excited. I mean, I should be, right?”

  My sister gave me a half smile. “I think so.”

  “I found a great apartment—all clean and bright, shiny and modern. The part of the city where the office is located, and where I’m going to live, is really vibrant and alive. People everywhere, lots of bars and restaurants.”

  “That all sounds great. That’s what you wanted, right? More people, more action?”

  I closed my eyes and remembered the noisy restaurant, all the people around me who seemed busy and young and like they belonged. “I thought so. But I just don’t know if I have the energy to find a place for myself there. The people I saw yesterday, I just had this weird feeling that they’re not like me.”

  “Oh my god, you were there like six hours.”

  “And this morning,” I said, remembering having the same feeling of otherness as I’d sat in a cafe next to the window near my new apartment, making an effort to get to know my new neighborhood. “It just seemed … exhausting.”

  “Paige, I think you’re rushing to judgment. You weren’t there long enough to really get a feel, and you haven’t moved in. You didn’t have your own stuff, your own place, so of course you felt like an outsider, right? Plus, you’ll be super busy at work, and I’m sure you’ll make friends with the other doctors. They’ll probably invite you to parties and stuff.”

  I thought about the stone-faced doctors and staff rushing around my new office. I couldn’t see them at a party. “Maybe,” I said. “I’m going to have hospital privileges,” I said, pointing out the one thing that really did feel like a huge step forward in my career.

  “That’s great,” Amber said. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head toward me. “I didn’t tell you, at my job, I just got special copy room privileges.”

&nb
sp; I laughed. “There’s a special copy room?”

  “There’s one copier that never jams, and its in a separate staff room they don’t let the volunteers and aides use. You have to be invited.”

  “Well then, you’ve made it at Singletree High. Congratulations!”

  She smiled, and I could see that Amberlynn was happy—truly happy. She’d found the guy, she had the job, and her life was enough. I wanted that. I just wanted my life to be enough.

  I looked around my yard with the cherry tree just about to bloom in the corner of the grassy space, the tumbling vines climbing the trellis at the side of my patio, and my tulips standing in a row over in the side bed. It was my own little paradise—mine and Bobo’s—and I’d miss it. I’d miss seeing my sister all the time, and Mom …

  I’d miss my quiet neighborhood, my long runs on wide open streets … I’d miss other things and people I was trying desperately not to think about, things that couldn’t factor into my decision because they weren’t mine. But I was going to miss Cormac and the girls, and even Luke … I was going to miss something I didn’t even really ever have, and the absence of that felt bigger than so many of the other things I’d miss about my home town.

  “Tell me I’m doing the right thing,” I said.

  “You’re going to have an adventure, just like Addy,” Amber said, sounding sad.

  “Have you talked to her lately?” I asked. I hadn’t talked to my older sister in way too long, but she put the burden of calling on us—she never reached out. It hurt, but I tried not to think too much about it.

  “Not really,” Amber said. “We exchanged emails a month or so ago. Did you know she broke up with William?”

  For a second I forgot all of my own issues. “She did? Does Mom know that?”

  “I think Mom calls her every week, so probably.”

  “I need to call her,” I said. “I’ve been so busy.”