One More Last Chance

by Cathleen Armstrong

  Sarah checked her watch as she climbed in her car after school. Now that the school year was well under way, it was next to impossible to meet Megan for lunch on Mikey’s afternoons with his grandma, so they had settled on after-school coffee—with Mikey in tow. And she was about ten minutes late.

  Megan was already in the booth at the Dip ’n’ Dine when Sarah drove up, and Mikey was in a high chair eating Cheerios.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late. I had a parent want to talk a few minutes when she picked her daughter up.” Sarah slid in the booth across from Megan.

  “Don’t think a thing about it. Mikey’s just up from his nap, so he’s in a good mood, and I was talking Juanita’s ear off.”

  “So what can I get you?” Juanita, who was indeed standing right by the table, took out her order pad.

  “Just some decaf coffee, thanks.” Sarah smiled at her and turned to Megan.

  “Oh, aren’t you going to have any pie or anything?” Megan’s face fell. “I was going to have just a tiny little piece, but if you don’t have anything . . .”

  “You go ahead. I’m just not real hungry.”

  Megan sighed. “Okay, I guess I’ll just have coffee too.”

  She looked so sad that Sarah changed her mind. “What if we split something? You choose.”

  “Perfect!” This was all Megan was waiting for. “Let’s have pecan, warmed up with a scoop of ice cream.”

  “Got it.” Juanita put pencil to pad. “And two cups of decaf.”

  “Not mine.” Megan sprinkled a few more Cheerios on Mikey’s tray. “Full strength for me.”

  “Don’t you have trouble sleeping if you drink caffeinated coffee this late in the day?” Truthfully, after her long day, Sarah could have used the little pick-me-up caffeine offered too. But she knew she’d be regretting it long after midnight.

  “Are you kidding me? Nothing keeps me awake but this guy, but if he’s asleep, I’m out too.”

  Sarah smiled at Mikey, opened her hand for the Cheerio offered her, and held her palm flat as he took it back again and put it in his mouth. “How is he doing? He’s growing like a weed.”

  That was all Sarah had to say, and Megan was off and running. She didn’t pause for breath, even when Juanita brought the pie and coffee, finally finishing up a half hour later with, “And that’s why I give him a jar of prunes every day.”

  She sat back, and it took Sarah a moment to realize she had finished and was waiting for Sarah to say something. Sarah reached for the first thing that came to mind. “Well, he certainly must keep you busy.”

  Megan rolled her eyes. “That’s the understatement of the year.” She took another bite of pecan pie. “So, what’s going on with you? Are you dating anyone?”

  A little wave of irritation rippled through Sarah. There was so much going on in her life. Why would whether or not she was dating be the first thing Megan would want to hear about? “No, I’m not, as it happens. My class keeps me totally busy, and then there’s Gran. I like to kind of keep an eye on her, but don’t tell her I said so.”

  “That sounds like you.” Megan scooped up the last bite of ice cream and smiled at her. “Always looking after someone else. But don’t forget about you. You need some good times in your life too. What about . . . ?” She lowered her voice and jerked her head toward the kitchen.

  “Carlos? He’s married, and for a long time too. I thought you knew that.” Sarah grinned at her friend.

  “No, I do not mean Carlos.” Megan bit off each word in an exasperated whisper. “I mean Chris. He’s good-looking. He’s single. He’s a strong Christian. And he owns his own business. What’s not to like? Well, I guess there is the little girl, but she won’t be here forever.”

  Chris had come out of the kitchen and was doing something behind the counter. When he looked up and saw both women looking at him, he smiled. “Everything okay? Need anything?”

  “Everything’s great. That pie is out of this world.” Megan smiled back.

  “Good.” He went back to whatever he was doing.

  “See? And he’s tall too.” Megan went back to her whisper.

  “And I’m not. What’s your point? Chris and I are just friends. And as for the little girl, I love Olivia. I’ll miss her like crazy if she has to go back with her mom. So let’s talk about something else. Tell me more about Mikey.”

  “Nice try, but it’s not going to work this time. You get to do the talking now. If not Chris, what about that guy you used to be engaged to? Is he completely out of the picture?”

  “I was never engaged.” Sarah was about ready to plead papers to grade and head for the door. “But to answer your question, Miss Nosy, he’s not completely out of the picture. He’s working in Chicago, but we talk on the phone.”

  “Really? Oh, Chicago is so far away. Do you think you’ll move there?”

  “Megan. No. And I don’t have anything more to say about this. Can we change the subject? Please?”

  Megan must have realized that the topic had played itself out, and Mikey must have become bored with the whole discussion, because he started fussing. She sighed. “Okay. Don’t be mad. I just worry about you, that’s all.”

  “You don’t need to. I’m okay, promise. In fact, I really like my life.”

  Sarah smiled and reached across the table to put her hand on her friend’s arm, and Megan smiled back at her. Mikey, however, went from fussy to crying in earnest.

  “I need to get this boy home.” Megan dipped her paper napkin in her water glass and tried to wipe his face. That just made Mikey madder, and he howled his protest. In a moment, Megan had extracted him from his chair, gathered the paraphernalia that accompanied them everywhere, and left with promises to call soon. Sarah just sat a minute listening to the quiet Megan had left in her wake.

  “How about another cup of coffee?” Chris appeared at the table with the carafe. He smiled down at her, and she noticed the fine lines at the corner of his eyes.

  “If you have one with me. You look like you could use a break too.”

  Chris looked around the room. There was only one other table with diners, and they were almost finished. “I think I can take a few minutes. Let me go get another cup and I’ll be right with you.”

  “Watch out for the Cheerios,” Sarah called after him. “They’re everywhere.”

  When he got back, Sarah noticed two things. One, he seemed to fill the whole other side of the booth, and two, he really did look tired. Whether it was the stress of putting on “Hot Chile and Cool Jazz” or the worry Olivia seemed intent on putting him through on a daily basis, he looked beat.

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but Saturday night was really amazing. The mole verde was incredible.” She smiled at him and couldn’t help noticing the way he brightened when she did.

  “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it. I didn’t see your friend, though, the one who was coming in from Chicago. Did I just miss him or what?”

  “No, he didn’t make it.” Sarah shook her head and shrugged. “Something came up at work. His loss, though. It was a great evening—at least until our little traveler took off.”

  “Yeah, Livvy. She keeps things exciting.” He paused for a long moment, and when he did speak, he almost blurted his question. “I know it’s none of my business, but this guy Brandon, is anything going on between you two?”

  Sarah leaned back and laughed. “That is a really good question. And if I knew, I’d tell you.”

  Chris just raised his eyebrows and waited.

  “Well, we were together most of the time we were in college. Then we weren’t. And now, I don’t know. We’re just seeing how things go.”

  “So if I asked you out to dinner, I wouldn’t be stepping out of line?”

  That came out of left field, and Sarah had to take a minute to process it. It wasn’t that the idea of going out with Chris had never come up. In fact, nearly everyone in Last Chance seemed to think it was a brilliant idea. It was just that until now the idea had nev
er come from either of the two people most involved.

  “I’m just talking about dinner. We eat. We talk. We come home. You never know, you might even have a good time.” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

  Sarah laughed again. She’d forgotten what fun it was to be with someone who made her laugh. “Sure. Why not? In fact, I’d love to—as long as we’re clear that it’s just dinner.”

  “Great! Just dinner it is. Next Sunday evening?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “There’s one more thing.” He leaned forward, and Sarah had never seen him look more serious. “I need to ask you a question I never thought I’d ask, at least not for a long, long time.”

  Uh oh.

  “Could you recommend a good babysitter?”

  21

  Sarah had tried on and rejected three different outfits, and fussed at herself for doing so, by the time Chris picked her up Sunday evening. She had also told Brandon about the dinner, and he had not been happy.

  “It’s only dinner,” she had told him. “Just a chance to get out for the evening with a friend.”

  “Don’t you have any women friends?”

  “Married women friends, with small children. And Last Chance is just not a girls’ night out kind of place. Families sort of pull in their sidewalks in the evening. What kind of question is that, anyway? I’m only allowed to have women friends?”

  He had gone silent, and she tried to coax a better mood.

  “We’re just going as friends. Promise. Besides, he knows all about you and that I’m coming to see you next month. I told him.”

  “And he decided to try to move in anyway. Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Brandon, I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be completely truthful.”

  He didn’t say anything, and Sarah took that as agreement.

  “In all the time you’ve been away, have you never had a dinner or a lunch or a cup of coffee with another woman? Not even once?”

  “Well, yeah, co-workers.”

  “And the difference would be?”

  “They don’t mean anything to me, at least not like you do. They’re someone to talk to so I don’t always have to eat alone, and that’s how they feel about me too.”

  “And that’s exactly how it is with Chris and me. Just friends.”

  There was a long silence on the phone before Brandon finally broke it.

  “You know, when you say you just see this guy as a friend, I believe you. I know you, and if there were something more, you’d tell me.”

  Sarah had been pleased at his trust and was about to say so when Brandon went on. “But I don’t trust this Chris guy any farther than I can throw him. If I were there, I’d knock his teeth in for him.”

  “If you were here, Brandon, I wouldn’t be going to dinner with Chris.” And I’d like to see you try to knock Chris Reed’s teeth in. Sarah had been suddenly so done with the conversation.

  “All I’m saying is be careful.”

  “Good-bye, Brandon.”

  “Call me as soon as you get home.”

  “Bye.”

  After she had hung up from talking to Brandon, Sarah had almost called Chris to cancel. Truth be told, she felt a tiny twinge of guilt at Brandon’s confidence that she would tell him if she felt anything more than friendship for Chris. Yes, Chris was just a friend. And yes, they had agreed that this was to be a dinner between friends, and friends only. And yes, she was as committed as ever to seeing where things went with Brandon. But being honest with herself, she knew she would never have tried on three different outfits to have dinner with Megan.

  She finally decided on some dark jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a leather jacket—nicely casual and yet sharp too. She was tying a red scarf into her dark curls when the doorbell rang and she found Chris standing on her doorstep holding a pie.

  “Come in.” She opened the door for him and accepted his gift. “A pie. How nice. Thank you.”

  “Hey, if there were a florist within forty miles of here open on Sunday, I’d have brought flowers.” Chris gave her shoulders a quick one-armed squeeze. “I guess I could have brought candy. I think Manny has a few packages clipped to a rack down at Otero Gas and Oil. But I went for the pie. I hope you like it. Just made it this afternoon.”

  Sarah laughed. “It looks delicious, although why you’d want to spend your only afternoon off cooking is beyond me.”

  Chris shrugged and followed her into the kitchen to put the pie away. “It relaxes me. I put on some jazz, make a huge mess in the kitchen, and before I know it, I’ve forgotten what was bothering me.”

  “So what was bothering you?”

  He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I’ve forgotten.”

  Telling herself that the surge of joy she felt was because she was going out for dinner for a change, and because Chris made her laugh, and because it was good to have a friend, Sarah led the way out the door and to the Jeep parked at the curb.

  Elizabeth hadn’t drawn her drapes against the evening yet, and when they drove by they could see her sitting in her recliner with Olivia leaning over the arm.

  “I sure appreciate your grandmother letting Olivia come over this evening. I really hesitated asking since she has Livvy all week after school.”

  “Gran’s the one who volunteered, remember? She loves Livvy. And despite my earlier misgivings, I think Livvy’s really good for her too. They’re a couple of buddies. I think she said they’re going to make waffles and then crochet.”

  “Yeah, Livvy showed me this crochet chain she’s been working on. It’s about ten feet long and growing, but she’s really proud of it.”

  “I can see it now—the two of them sitting side by side crocheting the evenings away.”

  “We’ll have to bring in another recliner.”

  Sarah smiled and let the highway disappear beneath them a while before talking. The October sun was just slipping below the horizon, and soft jazz came from the radio. It felt good to just be.

  “So, where are we going?” Sarah broke the silence. “You never told me.”

  Chris glanced at her before looking back at the road. “I guess I should have checked with you, huh? I should have warned you that with me it’s way more about the food than the atmosphere, so sometimes the places I go might be a little short on charm, but the food is always outstanding.”

  “Well, that sounds promising. At least I’m not underdressed.”

  “You look incredible. Didn’t I mention that? I meant to.”

  Sarah smiled. “Thanks. But you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

  “It’s called Papa’s. Have you heard of it?”

  “No. Where is it?”

  “About forty miles from here, up in the mountains. They do steaks over mesquite coals, and that’s about all they do. But the steaks are supposed to be out of this world. And there’s live music on the weekends.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  The conversation comfortably drifted after that, slipping from the food editor’s visit to the Dip ’n’ Dine, to Sarah’s second graders, to Olivia and her new riding teacher. It had been a long time since conversation had been so easy, and Sarah was almost disappointed when Chris turned off the road and brought his Jeep to a stop next to the pickups in the gravel parking lot.

  The smell of wood smoke permeated the cool air, and they could hear that the band had already begun. Papa’s had a wide porch across the front and half doors that opened on a large room paneled with varnished pine and filled with well-scrubbed wooden tables. Cattle brands had been burned into a border around the top of the room.

  Chris bent down to whisper in Sarah’s ear when they walked in. “I warned you. Not much charm, but we can still hope the food measures up.”

  “Are you kidding me? This place is loaded with charm. I love it.” Suddenly she grabbed Chris’s arm and pointed to the border. “Look! There’s the Rocking JC, our brand. I wonder how it got here.”

&nb
sp; She asked when the hostess came to show them to their table, and the hostess, who looked as if she could have been there the day Papa’s first opened, stopped and looked up. “Well, the first few years we were open, we let ranchers bring in their branding iron. We’d heat it up in the coals and let them brand the wall. Can’t do it now. Blamed fire marshal made us quit.”

  “That’s our brand right up there. The Rocking JC.” Sarah was still excited.

  The hostess nodded and led them to their table. “Every now and then someone comes in and recognizes their brand. It’s good to see some things are carrying on.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been here awhile yourself.” Chris smiled at her as he held Sarah’s chair for her.

  “Oh, yes, honey. I’m Mama.” She handed them their menus. “Just a word about the steaks. You can get them any way you want them, but anything doner than medium has no guarantee whatsoever.”

  “Oh, Chris, I like this place. I can’t believe it’s been here all this time and I’ve never heard of it.”

  Chris looked up at the brands circling the room. “I wonder who brought your brand up here? Your dad maybe? Or your granddad?”

  “One of the hands, more likely. They were the ones who liked going out on the town, such as it was. My parents and grandparents always stuck pretty close to home.”

  The steaks, ordered medium rare, lived up to Papa’s reputation, and the sides—beans, slaw, and biscuits—were the perfect accompaniments. Finally, Sarah leaned back from the table and her completely empty plate.

  “That had to be the best steak I’ve ever had. I am so full I’m about to pop.”

  “I have to say I am in awe.” Chris grinned at her. “For such a tiny thing, you can really pack it in.”

  “You all about ready for dessert?” Their waitress appeared at the table. “We’ve got peach cobbler, berry cobbler, and chocolate cake.”

  Sarah groaned and Chris shook his head. “I think we’re about done here, thanks. We really enjoyed the meal, though.”