One More Last Chance

by Cathleen Armstrong

  A cold wind blew up when the sun went down, tugging at yellow leaves still clinging to the cottonwood branches and sending tumbleweeds chasing each other down the empty street in front of Sarah’s house. Occasionally an especially violent gust would shriek past her door or whine its way into her spare room through a tiny space left by a window that didn’t fit perfectly into its casing. Sarah knew that the sound of incessant wind put some people on edge, but she didn’t get it. The nights she spent as a child snuggled in bed listening to the wind’s unsuccessful assault on the walls of her life had left her with a sense of peace and well-being whenever she heard it howl.

  A fire, the first of the season, crackled in her fireplace, and she curled up on the sofa under one of her grandmother’s crocheted afghans and sipped from a mug of tea. She was still furious and hurt that Brandon had tried to make her believe their drive Saturday had been a careless ramble when in fact he had not only read it somewhere but memorized it. She was also beyond embarrassed that she had fallen for it so completely. But as the evening wore on and she added another log or two to her little fire while the wind outside howled around the corners of her house, she found it harder and harder to stay as mad as she wanted to be when she confronted him. After all, she had known for years that Brandon was not a spontaneous person. Almost, in fact, from the time they met. And if he had gone to such lengths to present himself otherwise, it could only be because he thought that’s what she wanted. So who was trying to change whom? Of course, nothing altered the fact that he had concocted, and fed her, an elaborate lie, and she had no intention of letting that pass. Maybe she could learn to live with someone who loved a structured life, but no way could she live with someone she could not believe.

  When her phone rang at 11:00, Sarah was still tucked under her afghan in a corner of her sofa, watching the last logs of her fire collapse into glowing embers.

  She picked up her phone and settled herself a bit more comfortably. This could be a long and unpleasant conversation. “Hey, Brandon.”

  “Hey, babe.” Brandon sounded like he was trying to be cheerful. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. I miss you already.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

  “That sounds promising.” His voice picked up a trace of enthusiasm, and Sarah could almost see him smile.

  “Well, Brandon . . .”

  “Wait.” He interrupted her. “Before you say anything, I’ve got to get something off my chest.”

  “Okay, what?” Sarah didn’t think she could take many more surprises from Brandon today.

  “That day trip we took on Saturday? It didn’t quite happen like I let you think it did.”

  “Oh?”

  “I wanted it to be the best day you’ve ever had, and since I don’t know the area that well, I did some research. I got the idea for the trip from a magazine.”

  It took Sarah a second to regroup her thoughts. She certainly hadn’t expected to begin this way. “But why did you let me think you were making it up as we went along?”

  “I didn’t mean to. I was just going to surprise you, but then you started telling me you didn’t even know who I was, and you seemed so happy. I just couldn’t give that up. I know I owe you a big apology. And I am sorry. I just couldn’t base what I know is going to become one of my all-time favorite memories on a lie.”

  Sarah waited a moment. The day had been lining up to be one of her all-time favorite memories too, but that was gone, and nothing Brandon could say now was going to bring it back. She cleared her throat. “Thank you for telling me, Brandon. I know it was hard, and it means a lot that you did.”

  “I have to be honest with you, babe. If we don’t have that, we don’t have anything.”

  “No, no I guess we don’t.”

  “So do you forgive me?”

  “Of course.” She had been preparing what she would say all evening, but so, it appeared, had Brandon.

  “Terrific.” She could hear the relief in his voice. “I can’t tell you how great that makes me feel. I can’t wait until Thanksgiving.”

  “I feel better too.” Yes, Brandon had let her believe a lie, even if that hadn’t been his original intention, but he couldn’t let it stand. He had to tell her the truth. Didn’t that prove something?

  Brandon rang off, claiming a 6:00 a.m. flight back to Chicago in the morning. She set the fireplace screen firmly in place, turned out the lights, and headed to bed.

  Just as she was drifting off, an image from yesterday floated across her consciousness and jolted her to wakefulness. She and Brandon sat on the sofa at the ranch after lunch, and in front of them a fan of magazines was spread across the coffee table. She had paid no attention, but Western Home and Garden usually held pride of place. Had Brandon seen it there yesterday? Had he confessed to his deception because he thought he’d likely be found out anyway? She’d never know, of course, but doubt crept in again, and not even the lullaby of the wind could carry her off to an easy sleep.

  25

  You know, I think this is the first Thanksgiving I’m not going to have all my children around the table.”

  Sarah and her mother sat at the big kitchen table shelling pecans the Saturday morning before Thanksgiving. Nancy Jo’s sister in Las Cruces sent a big sack of pecans from their trees every fall, and for Sarah, shelling them with her mom had always heralded the approaching holidays.

  “Really? Kimberly and Michael have never gone to his folks?” Sarah stopped to sweep some shell fragments into the big paper bag under the table.

  “Not for Thanksgiving. Well, I guess it was bound to happen sometime.” Nancy Jo never bothered much with crying over spilled milk. She got up to refill their coffee cups. “You are going to be here for Christmas, though, right?”

  “Of course. I’m not moving to Chicago. Just going for Thanksgiving.”

  “Well, you never know. I’m bracing myself against the day you just up and move away. Chicago is so far away. I’m afraid I won’t even know my own grandchildren.”

  “Mom.” Sarah put down her nutcracker and pick and looked into her mother’s eyes. “I’m not going to up and move away. I just got back to Last Chance and I like it here. And I don’t know what grandchildren you’re talking about, but you seem to know all of them pretty well. So I wouldn’t waste any more time worrying about it.”

  “I still say you never know, Miss Priss.” Nancy Jo scooped shelled pecans into a measuring cup and then poured them into zip-top bags. “You’ve been mincing around for weeks saying you didn’t know what you were going to do about Brandon. And I say that’s a lot of nonsense. If you don’t know you love a man enough to spend your life with him, then you do know that you don’t.”

  “What? Want to run that by me again?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. You have to be one hundred and fifty percent positive that you’re in love, or just let it go. Life’s hard enough as it is. I never, to this day, have had a moment’s doubt that your dad was the one, and I still want to shake him half the time.”

  “Maybe if either one of you had ever dated anyone else, you might not have been so sure. You started going steady when you were, what, fifteen?”

  “When you know, you know. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Okay. Message received.” Winning an argument with her mom was not any easier than winning one with Gran, and sometimes all Sarah could do was agree. They shelled pecans in silence for a while.

  “How is Brandon, anyway? It was nice having him here for lunch when he was in town last month. I always thought he was a little hard to know, but he was just as pleasant as he could be.”

  “I guess he’s doing fine. He’s had to do some traveling for his company this last week and I haven’t been able to talk to him, but he should get home sometime this weekend.”

  “Well, tell him I said hi and that he’s more than welcome at Christmas, if he wants to come.”

  “I’ll tell him you said hi. We’ll worry about Christmas later.
”

  “Oh, I think it would be real interesting to have him here for Christmas.” Nancy Jo smiled a half smile. “Your grandmother’s talking about having that nice Chris Reed from the diner and his niece up for Christmas Day. She tried to get him to come for Thanksgiving, but he’s got other plans, I guess.”

  “And what does that have to do with Brandon, anyway?” Sarah tried to stare her mother down, but Nancy Jo was too engaged in cracking and picking and measuring to stare back.

  “You know,” Sarah went on, “when I was thinking about coming back to Last Chance to teach, I couldn’t come up with a single drawback. But I’ve got quite a list now, and it’s growing.”

  Nancy Jo looked up and smiled. “I’m sorry, darlin’. Did you say something? I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Sarah gave up and returned to the pecans. Truth be told, her family, as exasperating is it could be, was number one on her list of reasons to come back to Last Chance. They got in her business, teased her beyond endurance sometimes, and were awfully free with advice, solicited or not. But they stood in linked-arm unity between her and anything that might harm her, just as she joined the protective wall of family that surrounded each of them.

  Her mom might appear to be taking Sarah’s absence from the Thanksgiving table this year lightly, but for Sarah it was a big deal. Next Thursday family and friends would gather around the two long tables set up in the dining room, just as they had every Thanksgiving of Sarah’s life, and Sarah would be elsewhere. Knowing Brandon, she’d probably be at a cozy table for two in some popular Chicago restaurant eating something that had absolutely no connection to Thanksgiving whatsoever. She popped a few pecans into her mouth. He’d just better appreciate what she was doing for him, that’s all.

  “So when do you leave? Will I see you again before you go?” They had finally finished the shelling, and Nancy Jo was stacking the zip-top bags and rolling up the newspaper that had covered the table.

  “Not unless you come to town, I’m afraid. I just have too much to do to get ready. I’m leaving straight from school on Wednesday.”

  “Well, we’re going to miss you. And we’ll be real interested to know how everything turns out. I know Thanksgiving was the make-or-break date you set for yourself.”

  “Who’s this ‘we’ you’re talking about who’s so interested to know how things turn out?”

  “Us. Your family. And we’ll all be here having our pie Thanksgiving evening, so if you have an announcement to make or anything, why, just give us a call. We’ll be waiting.”

  Sarah got to her feet and gave her mother a hug. “Well, don’t wait. Because there’s not going to be an announcement, I can promise you that. And in case you can’t think of anything to talk about besides my love life, I’ll make a list of topics and send it up with Gran. Now, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a ton of things to do.”

  Nancy Jo took her daughter into her arms and gave her a long hug. “I will miss you, sweet girl. It won’t be the same without you. And for all the teasing I do, I want you to know that I am praying for you. Don’t let anyone or any arbitrary date you set pressure you into making a decision you’re not ready to make, you hear me? You have all the time in the world.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Sarah dug for her keys. “I’ll call before I leave. And wish Dad a happy Thanksgiving for me, will you?”

  “I will. Oh, and don’t forget these.” Nancy Jo grabbed some zip-top bags. “Would you take a couple of these to Gran? She’s going to want to get started on her baking. And take one to Chris Reed too. I bet he’d appreciate it.”

  “Sure.” Sarah gave her mom one last hug and headed for her car.

  She was surprised to find herself batting back tears as she drove down the dirt road to the highway. For Pete’s sake, grow up, woman. It’s just one Thanksgiving, not the rest of your life. Maybe Brandon is right; you do need to get out and see more of the world. She bumped over the cattle guard and turned onto the pavement. But I still say seeing more of the world on Thanksgiving was a really dumb idea.

  Olivia was in the lot next to the Dip ’n’ Dine hitting at a scrubby bush with a stick when Sarah drove into the parking lot, and she ran to meet her. Sarah draped an arm across her shoulders.

  “Hey there, Livvy. What’re you up to?”

  “Trying to find my lizard. I made it a home in a shoe box, but it got out and ran away.”

  “Well, lizards are tricky that way. Is your uncle inside? I have something for him.”

  “Sure.” Olivia led the way into the diner. “Uncle Chris! Miss Cooley’s here.”

  Chris looked up from the pie he was cutting and grinned. “Come on in. We’re celebrating. Pie for everyone.”

  Sarah stopped just inside. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re going to be in Western Home and Garden magazine, that’s what’s going on.” Juanita, who appeared to have been having lunch with Russ, was helping the Saturday waitress distribute the slices. “Chris just got an email from that food editor, and they’re going to do a whole article on the Dip ’n’ Dine. Can you believe it?”

  “Really?” Sarah looked at Chris for confirmation. She loved the Dip ’n’ Dine. She had loved it all her life, but a whole article? In Western Home and Garden?

  He nodded, still grinning. “Yep. They have a feature every month called ‘Best of the Best’ where they pick one thing in a western state—could be a park, or a plant nursery, or even a roadside stand—and call it the best of the best. Then they write an article about it.”

  “And next May, just in time for the next fiesta, they’re writing about the best diner in the western states: the Dip ’n’ Dine in Last Chance, New Mexico.” Juanita looked like she could have turned a handspring.

  “Chris, that’s marvelous. Good for you.”

  He nodded. “They’re sending a photographer out, and they’ve asked for the recipes for my mole verde and Carlos’s chile rellenos. They want to make them home-cook friendly and feature them with the article.”

  “No one messes with my recipes.” Carlos appeared in the window to the kitchen. If he was celebrating, he was doing it there, and from the looks of it, without pie.

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s as pleased as the rest of us.”

  “Rita! We’ve got to call Rita. She’ll bust out crying. I know she will.” Juanita went for the phone, and everyone else in the diner turned to their pie.

  “Well, this is certainly anticlimactic, but I brought you something.” Sarah handed him the pecans. “These are from Mom—and my aunt Deb’s pecan trees.”

  “That’s nice.” Chris turned the package over in his hand, looking a little puzzled. “How do I rate this?”

  “Because you cook. Mom loves to share the wealth. I’ve got a couple bags for Gran too. I just wanted to drop these by before I left Wednesday. Great timing, though. Happy Thanksgiving and congratulations again. Sorry I don’t have time for pie, but I still have a ton of things to do.” She smiled up at him and opened the front door.

  “That’s right. Chicago for Thanksgiving.” He and Olivia followed her out to her car. “That’ll be different.”

  Sarah shrugged. “I’ll say, but it’s a little late to rethink now. What about you? Mom said they’d asked you to the ranch, but you’ve got other plans.”

  “Yes, we do. Although we certainly did appreciate the invitation, didn’t we, Livvy?”

  Chris did not seem inclined to elaborate, but Olivia piped up.

  “We’re going to cook a turkey. And make a pie from a real pumpkin.”

  Sarah raised a questioning eyebrow at Chris. “You’re eating at home? You know there’s always room at the ranch, and they meant it when they invited you.”

  The look Chris shot Olivia was both fond and exasperated. He put his hand on her head and waggled it. “Before your grandmother so kindly extended the invitation, I had promised Livvy we’d cook a Thanksgiving feast together. She’s never had a traditional Thanksgiving dinner
.”

  “Never?”

  “No, my parents always took her and Kaitlyn out to their country club for holiday meals. So the little decorations she’d make in preschool or kindergarten never got used.” He looked down at his niece. “But this year, we’re going all out. Aren’t we, kiddo?”

  “You can come.” Olivia grabbed Sarah’s hand. “I’ll make you a pilgrim hat too.”

  Sarah smiled at her. “That sounds like so much fun, and I’d love to, but I’m going out of town for Thanksgiving.”

  “I’ve already made the place mats, but I could make another one.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t this year, Livvy. But you remember everything so you can tell me all about it when I get back, okay?” She gave them both a hug before she got in her car and started the engine.

  Stopping by her grandmother’s house to deliver the rest of the pecans and tell the good news about the Dip ’n’ Dine, she found Gran planning all the dishes she was going to take to the ranch, and since Sarah was there, she wanted to go over the whole list with her, even though Sarah kept reminding her that she’d be in Chicago.

  By the time she walked in her door and kicked off her shoes, Sarah had heard all she wanted to hear about Thanksgiving in Last Chance. She needed to hear Brandon tell her again about the wonderful weekend they were going to share. She glanced at her watch. He probably was still in the air on his way back from his business trip, but she could leave a message telling him she was going to be home all evening and he could call before 11:00 if he wanted.