Second Chance Spring Page 9

  “The ‘llergies,” Maddie said, nodding. Taylor said nothing, but she appeared frozen and I hoped she was still breathing.

  “Yeah, the allergies.” I took a deep breath. “Well, you know I’ve been getting shots to try to make them better, and I think they will. But it takes a while.” I didn’t plan it, but I sneezed here as if to punctuate the point.

  “Anyway, it’s been really hard for me to live here with Luke since the allergy shots haven’t really started working yet. I’m sneezing all the time, and I feel sick, and my brain is kinda foggy.”

  “No!” Taylor sat bolt upright and screamed the word.

  Maddie startled into full awareness at her sister’s scream, and then started to cry. I hadn’t expected them to be happy, but I hadn’t been prepared for this.

  “Taylor, calm down,” I said, scooting closer still and trying to gather both girls into my arms.

  “No!” She cried, her voice softer now. “You can’t send him away, you can’t. If you do it, I’ll run away!”

  Her declaration felt a little like a slap across the face. I knew she didn’t mean it, I knew it was ridiculous. But the idea that Taylor would leave, that I could do something that would drive her away had me wishing I could just shrink into a little ball in the corner and let someone else do this parenting shit. I was doing it all wrong.

  “Honey, no, just listen,” I pleaded.

  Maddie still hadn’t said anything, but looked terrified at whatever news might be coming. I needed to just get this out.

  “I talked to Dr. Tanner,” I went on. “Paige, from across the street.”

  Taylor crossed her arms over her chest. This was not going well.

  “And she said that Luke could come live with her and Bobo for a little while, just until my allergies get better and the medicine has time to start working. And she said you could come visit him every day.”

  Both girls cried harder, and I pulled them even closer, until I had two warm bodies clinging to me, two little heads on my shoulders, and a boatload of snot on my shirt. But at least I’d gotten the hard part out and Taylor hadn’t run away yet.

  “Luke lives with us,” Taylor said, her voice a wail now. “He’s part of our family.”

  “He’s our brovvver,” Maddie wailed.

  “He is,” I agreed. “He’s a very important part of our family.” My mind raced and I came onto an idea I thought might work. “But what if Luke was living here happily, doing really well, and then we got a pet turtle that made Luke really, really sick?”

  “I hate turtles!” Taylor said.

  “But if the turtle was our pet,” I went on, “we’d need to figure out a way for Luke to be happy in his house, right?”

  I felt, more than saw, them nodding, and Taylor’s body was less stiff than it had been before.

  “That’s what we’re doing now, except it’s not Luke that’s sick. It’s me.”

  Taylor stiffened again. “Daddy?” she said, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

  “What sweetheart?”

  “Can allergies make you die?” Her voice had become so small and so frightened, I tightened my grip on both little bodies, wondering if I’d ever have the courage to release them. They felt so vulnerable and small.

  “No, honey. No.” I lifted a hand to wipe the tears that had gathered unbidden in my eyes. “I’m not going to die.”

  “If Yuke goes to Dr. Paige, we can still pway with him?” Maddie asked, pulling back to search my face with her big blue eyes.

  “Yes, definitely,” I said.

  “And it’s not forever?” Taylor asked.

  I thought about Paige’s assertion that she was leaving in a month. “Definitely not.”

  “I think Yuke will have fun pwaying wif Bobo.”

  “I think he will too, honey.”

  The girls’ bodies relaxed, and after a few more confirmations that Luke would be okay and that this was temporary, they settled back down into the pillows, snuggling up together in a way that made my heart ache.

  We read Fancy Nancy, and then I lifted Maddie into her own bed on the other side of the room, switching on the soft pink nightlight after kissing them goodnight.

  Outside their room, I wiped my face, took a deep breath and went to text Paige.

  Me: They’re in bed. I told them. You want me to bring Luke in the morning, maybe?

  Paige: I can grab him now or tomorrow, whatever is best.

  I gazed out the front window, across the dark street and over to Paige’s little cottage. Selfishly, I wanted her to come now, maybe stay for a few minutes. I felt like I’d been through the emotional wringer tonight and having another adult around, even for a second, would be nice. I imagined her here, in my house again, and typed before I could second-guess it.

  Me: Is now really okay? I’d love to get the place dog-free as soon as possible.

  Paige: Sure. On my way.

  When you have Cake, what more do you need?

  Paige

  The lemon cake had just come out of the oven when Cormac’s text came through. My house (and probably my hair) was suffused with the smell of sugar and lemon and home, and something about the scent made me both nostalgic and a little sad.

  Growing up, the house had always been full of the scents of Mom’s baking. But really, our house had just always been full. My two sisters and I were always running in and out, and Mom and Dad were always around. Dad was a teacher, so he was home in the evenings every night, and I remembered the way my parents would sit at the kitchen table in the late evenings, the little television on in the background as they shared tea—or a drink—and talked about their days, about us, about life.

  I wanted that. I had the cake. I just didn’t have anything else.

  I sighed and hung up the apron I’d been wearing, pushing down any misplaced excitement flinging itself at me about the idea of going to Cormac’s. I was going to get a dog. That was all.

  Still, I glanced in the mirror before heading out, slicking on a quick layer of lip gloss and redoing my messy bun.

  “Hey,” he greeted me after I knocked softly on the door. Luke stood at his side, tail wagging and tongue lolling out happily.

  “Hey boy,” I said, leaning down to pet the dog. It was easier to greet Luke than it was to look Cormac in the eyes. The darkness and late hour brought back memories of the kiss we’d shared here in his dark house the night before, and I was trying very hard not to think about that.

  “Come on in,” he said. “I’ll give you all his stuff.”

  He led me to the kitchen, where there was a little pile on the center island—a leash, Luke’s bowls, a couple toys and a bag of food.

  “How did the girls take the idea?” I asked.

  He sighed and placed one hand on the counter, leaning into it and looking weary.

  “That well, huh?”

  “They came around,” he said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. A layer of stubble was visible there now, though Cormac shaved it clean each day. I liked it. The dark stubble, combined with the laugh lines and crinkles around his eyes gave him a rough look. Knowing that the man under the stubble was actually a very kind and sweet father and a gentle man created a delicious contrast, and I had to force my mind back to Luke.

  “They’re welcome to come over whenever. Seriously. You don’t have to stay with them, you can just send them over to play.”

  “You don’t even know what you’re volunteering for,” he laughed.

  I thought back to my quiet house, to the things I so desperately wanted in place of that privacy and silence. More things the desperate girl’s dating guide would probably recommend against mentioning. “Maybe not.”

  We stood under the glow of the lights above the island for a long minute, neither of us saying anything. Finally, I looked around the living room. “Does Luke have a bed I should take?”

  “Oh, er, yeah,” Cormac said, moving to the corner next to the television to pick up a big sheepskin pillow. “Let me put this other
stuff in a bag, okay?”

  I waited while he went to the laundry room and returned with a reusable shopping bag, which he put all the other items into.

  Of course he used environmentally responsible shopping bags. He was climate conscious. Was there anything wrong with this guy?

  He finished loading the bag and then turned to give Luke a long look. “Even though he makes me feel terrible, I’m going to miss the guy,” Cormac said. His voice was sad, maybe disproportionately sad, given that we were talking about a dog who was just going across the street.

  “Hey,” I said softly. “Is everything okay?”

  He put down the bag and leaned on the counter again, sighed, and then fixed me with those soft golden eyes. “I don’t know, Paige,” he said. “Listen, would you want to have a drink maybe? Or …” he trailed off.

  “Sure,” I said, not wanting him to second-guess the invitation. Going home to my silent home wasn’t necessarily a priority, even if I did want to get up early to run.

  He lifted a bottle of HalfCat Whiskey out of the cabinet and held it up, his eyebrows lifting in question.

  “Perfect,” I said. “With an ice cube?”

  Cormac made the drinks, and led me to a small sitting room in the front of the house. “Luke rarely comes in here,” he said, setting the drinks down. “And it’s farthest from the girls’ rooms, so we can talk.”

  I sat down, awkward suddenly in the formality of the little room with its carefully planned seating area and china plates hung on the wall. I had the distinct impression Cormac had not decorated this room himself. It had a feminine air, and the stale atmosphere of a room into which children rarely ventured.

  For a few minutes, I was sure every bit of connection I’d felt to this man had been only in my head. It was so awkward and stiff between us, each of us staring into our drinks, that I nearly excused myself and left. Then Cormac spoke.

  “Thanks so much for taking the dog,” he said.

  “Of course. It’s really no problem, and it just makes sense.”

  “You might end up with more of the girls than you wanted, though.”

  I sighed. “My house is pretty empty, Cormac. I think having some kids running through now and then would be a nice change.”

  He studied my face for a moment then. “Is that why you’re leaving?”

  “Why, because my house is too quiet?” I tried to laugh, as if this was a silly idea.

  He nodded.

  That was it, though, wasn’t it? I wanted to see if I could have a fuller life—a fuller house—if I moved somewhere else. “I guess maybe, in a way.”

  He watched me, his glass held in one hand and those bright eyes scouring my face in the dim light.

  “I guess I just feel like maybe I need something more. I’ve been here my whole life, you know? And I always thought I’d end up just like my mom—a full house, kids running around, a husband who came home every night to be a partner and a friend … My parents had all of that, and that’s what I always thought just happened. I never considered that maybe it was something you had to go looking for.”

  He nodded, appearing to think about my words, but he didn’t say anything.

  “I don’t know,” I laughed mirthlessly. “Maybe I gave up my opportunity for all that stuff.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I stayed with my high school boyfriend all the way through residency, believing he was the one, and never bothering to consider that he wasn’t.”

  “But he wasn’t.”

  “He definitely wasn’t.” I took a swig of the whiskey, the burn making the words I’d been saying—the truth I was sharing—feel less harsh. “During those years when I was away, maybe I could have met someone else, but I wasn’t looking.”

  “There’s something to be said for timing,” he said slowly. “But there’s also nothing gained through regret.”

  I laughed, maybe a bit more bitterly than I’d meant to. Then I swallowed another mouthful of whiskey and pushed all of that sadness down. “I’m sorry, Cormac, I didn’t come here for therapy.”

  “It’s fine. I’m interested, actually.”

  I didn’t know what to make of that statement. “So the girls were okay with the idea about Luke?”

  “I wouldn’t say they were excited about it,” he said slowly. “Taylor especially. They’re acutely attuned to the idea of losing people, you know? And to them, Luke is people.”

  I nodded, knowing he was talking about their mother. “Of course,” I said softly.

  “But I think I made them realize they aren’t losing him, that it’s temporary.”

  “Good,” I said. “God, I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you guys.” I’d almost believed I was just having that thought inside my head, but it had come out of my mouth almost at the same time and I wondered if I’d ventured a bit too far. “For you,” I added, meeting his eyes.

  He sighed. “It was hard. It was really sudden and unexpected—maybe that was the worst thing. You think your life is one way, and then it turns out it’s not that way at all. Never will be again. It’s like any plans you made just vanish, you know?”

  “I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what to say to that.

  He shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry,” he said. “I spent a long time being sorry. For myself, for the girls. But I’m starting to see that this idea of sorry, of regret … there is nothing to be done with it. And it doesn’t help. Maybe it holds us back, you know?”

  I thought about that a bit, leaning back in the soft chair and letting the buzz of the whiskey and Cormac’s soft voice comfort me more than they should have. “Yeah.”

  “And I’m tired of being sad, and being sorry. I want to move forward. I want the girls to see me do that, to know we aren’t always going to be defined by this shitty thing that happened to us.”

  I stared into my glass, his words making me feel sad and oddly hopeful all at once. “That’s brave,” I said. “And wise.”

  He laughed, and our eyes met, a little zip of energy passing between us. But we’d already explored the impossibility of that attraction, and we both knew it was a dead end. An impossibility due to timing.

  I sighed. “I guess I’d better get going,” I said, realizing it was after ten.

  “Okay,” he said. “Thanks for staying a bit. It was nice to have someone to talk to.”

  I met his eyes again as we stood, and there was an acknowledgement there—as if we both were thinking about the things that maybe could have been between us, but that couldn’t happen now. It was bad timing again, and there was no point regretting it.

  “I’m here any time,” I said. “And I’m happy for another friend. Life gets lonely sometimes.”

  He nodded. “It does. I’m glad to call you a friend, Paige.”

  And with that acceptance of our status as friends, we said goodnight and Luke and I went back across the street to my quiet house.

  Lemon Cake = Love

  Cormac

  For the rest of that week, the girls insisted on going straight to Paige’s house as soon as we saw her car pull into the driveway. It felt like an intrusion—or it would have, except the smile Paige gave us every day as she saw us approaching appeared to be genuine, and was full of a welcome that would be difficult to fake.

  On Friday, I was able to convince them that Dr. Paige deserved a few minutes to put her bags down inside and maybe go to the bathroom or change her clothes before we came knocking.

  The visits were becoming routine, and that routine was comfortable. The girls looked forward to them, and if I was honest, I did too. Despite the fact there was nothing between us, and we were not united by any kind of legal or family bond, Paige and I had fallen into a daily rhythm together, and I enjoyed sitting with her at the end of the day and watching the girls and dogs romp around the yard. Or the house, when it rained. I sneezed constantly either way, but it was still enjoyable.

  I had double checked the day before to make sure we weren
’t going to be intruding on any Friday evening plans Paige might have had. She was a young, single, beautiful woman, after all. But she’d laughed and told me that we were her only plans and to come whenever we wanted to.

  “I’d begun to think maybe you had some more compelling Friday evening plans,” she said when we knocked on her door an hour after she’d arrived home.

  “No, just thought maybe you would appreciate the opportunity to relax for a few minutes before we bombarded you,” I said as the girls said hello to Paige and then raced past her to where Luke and Bobo waited for them in the hallway.

  “Come on in,” Paige said, and I followed her inside. “There’s one more piece of lemon cake.” Her voice sang this last bit and though I should have said no, I couldn’t.

  “Is it pathetic that I’ve been thinking about that last piece all day, wondering if it would still be here?” I asked her as we settled at the little table in the backyard where we could see the girls and dogs on the grass.

  “No,” she laughed. “It’s flattering.” She went inside and returned with a bottle of wine and the piece of cake, then went back in for water and glasses.

  “Thank you,” I said, settling in happily with my cake.

  Paige went inside once more and returned with two plates and two cups for the girls. The plates each held two sugar cookies cut in the shape of dogs and decorated with frosting. She’d brought them out our first day visiting, and we had all been impressed. Even Taylor.

  “How was your day?” I asked as she sat next to me, facing the yard in the fading sunlight.

  “Pretty much the same as every other day really,” she said.

  I thought about that for a moment. “That’s why you want to move? Get a little more excitement at work?”

  She tilted her head. “In a way, yes. I mean, excitement at a medical practice isn’t necessarily a good thing, right? But yeah, sometimes I wonder if I really needed all that school to do what I’m doing now.”

  “As one of your patients, I have to say that I’m glad you went to medical school. I wouldn’t trust just anyone to give me those shots.”