Second Chance in Paradise

by Jennifer Peel

  “Look at you, trying to change the subject.”

  I grabbed my laptop and placed it on my lap. “I didn’t realize we were on a specific subject.”

  “Of course not, because you always bring your boyfriends to work with you. I didn’t even know you had boyfriends.”

  “I’ve dated, and Porter isn’t my boyfriend.”

  She placed her hand on her chest and did that fake laugh thing. “Tyson, that adjunct professor at the community college, doesn’t count. He was using our lab for the equipment. Though it was nice that he brought you dinner a few times.”

  I sat up indignantly—as much as my current circumstances would allow. “I never thought of Tyson that way.” In fact, I couldn’t wait until he finished his project. He reeked of barbecue chips and pickle juice.

  “Then when was the last time you went on a date?”

  I avoided her eyes. “It’s been a while.”

  “Looks like that’s about to change.”

  I shook my head. “Not with Porter,” I whispered.

  She sat on the edge of my desk. Her bright brown eyes went from jocular to pitying. “Why not? From the brief conversation I had with him, it’s apparent he’s smitten with you. And obviously worried about you.” She paused. “I am too, if we’re being honest.”

  My head popped up. “What? Why?”

  Her gaze drifted in Porter’s direction, then back to me. “I’ve known you since you were eighteen. Only freshman I ever let in this lab. In all that time, not once have you talked about family or friends. I just learned more about you by talking to Porter in the hall than I have in the last seven and a half years. You live alone—in a sketchy part of town, I might add—or in this lab. And when I took you shopping last week, you acted as if it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you.”

  My eyes began to sting. My nasolacrimal glands were fired. I tried holding my breath to stave off the tears, but it was no use. “Have I disappointed you in some way? I thought you were pleased with my work and research.”

  “Holland, listen to yourself. Life is more than work, much more.” She rested her hand on my head. She had never done anything like that before. “You’re brilliant. The work you’ve done here is amazing, but I would never forgive myself for continuing to enable your unhealthy habits.”

  I shook her hand off my head, slack-jawed. No words could properly convey how shocked and, frankly, hurt I was. My habits made me successful.

  She stood up in an authoritative manner. “You heard me right, Holland.” She sighed and did another glance between Porter and me. “I hate to do this, but it’s for your own good. Porter mentioned that his family has invited you to stay with them in Paradise while you recover. I’ve stayed at the Clairborne and it’s lovely. His family sounds nice too. You should go.”

  I shook my head vehemently. “I can’t. I have too much work to do—”

  She pursed her lips together in a stern fashion. “You’re not listening to me. I’m not giving you a choice. You aren’t a TA this semester and next week is spring break, and believe it or not, this lab functioned without you once upon a time. Please don’t make me threaten to kick you out of this program.”

  My hand landed with a hard slap against my heart. “You wouldn’t.”

  She closed her eyes and took a steady breath in and out. “If I thought it was what was best for you, I would.” Her eyes opened with a softer touch to them. “One of my jobs is to prepare you for life outside this lab, and I’ve failed there miserably. But no more.”

  I tried to stand, but somehow the strength had been drained from me. “Please, Sharon. You have no idea what you’re asking. Porter . . .” I swallowed hard. “He—”

  “Cares for you?”

  “He left, and—”

  “He told me,” she kept interrupting me. “He said it was the worse decision he ever made, but he had a lot of growing up to do. He’s looking pretty grown up now.”

  “There’s more to the story,” I almost cried.

  She rested her manicured hand on my cheek. “I’m sure there is, and you will have the next couple of weeks to work it all out. I don’t want to see any correspondence from you until spring break is over.”

  Tears escaped and trickled down my cheeks. “Sharon,” I pleaded.

  “Go have some fun. Heal your ankle . . . and more importantly, your heart. It’s obviously been scarred. And when you get back and want to talk about it—any of it—I’ll be here. But don’t come back until after you’ve had your time in Paradise.” She turned and walked away without another word.

  She had no idea what she had just done.

  Paradise was my hell.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Quit following me.” I hobbled across the campus courtyard on my sticks of hinder. I almost tossed them and took my chances walking on the sprained ankle. I was in such an emotional state; the pain probably wouldn’t have even registered. Or maybe I should take one of the crutches and whack Porter with it.

  “Why are you so upset? We always wanted to spend spring break together and now we get to.”

  I slammed on the brakes—figuratively speaking—and glowered at him. “Are you insane? That was eight years ago!”

  He pressed his lips together in a thoughtful stare, thinking about how to answer. “I am crazy.” He reached up and wiped away a lingering tear on my cheek. “Crazy for you.”

  I ignored how warm his touch felt. “How can you possibly know that?”

  “I’ve known it from the first time I laid eyes on you. That’s never changed.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “What do you expect to happen after all this time?”

  He stepped closer as people passing walked around us, staring at what probably looked like a lover’s quarrel. I had seen plenty in the courtyard. What made it more fun, was that if it was empty enough and the couple was loud enough, it would echo. Porter and I spoke in hushed tones.

  “I don’t expect anything from you.”

  “Then why all this?”

  He thought for a moment. “Because for almost eight years, I’ve wondered what if? What if I’d stayed? Or told you the truth? Begged you to come with me? Hell, even friended you on Facebook.” He drew closer. I could smell the mint gum he recently chewed. “You don’t how many nights I’ve lain awake asking myself, if I’d done any of those things, would you be lying next to me?”

  A rush of blood caused each blood vessel in my face to dilate.

  “Come to Paradise, Holland.” He stroked my wet cheek. “I swear, as hard as it will be, I’ll do my best to stay away from you if that’s what you want. Just come be with people that care about you.”

  I sniffled, not so cutely. “Thanks to you, I don’t have a choice. Sharon will kick me out of the program if I don’t.”

  He couldn’t hide his grin. “Might as well enjoy it then, right?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know if I remember how.”

  “Let me show you.”

  This would be one of those moments where I should be biting my lip and acting coy. Instead my face scrunched in what I was sure was the most unflattering way possible. And all I could think of to say was, “But I don’t like you.”

  Then, against my will, I smiled at the man who gazed at me like he would be happy if that’s all he could do all day.

  “Maybe not yet, but you will.”

  That’s what I was afraid of.

  ~*~

  The drive to Paradise was pretty much a silent affair. Porter had even turned off the radio. I wouldn’t say it was uncomfortable. We had spent plenty of time together where little needed to be said. Those were some of the best times with him. At those times, I felt at one with him. In those moments, there was no need to talk because we knew exactly what the other was thinking. The same could be said for today. Though I couldn’t believe what he was thinking—that he had been thinking about me. It’s not like I hadn’t thought about him, obviously. But never did I think about a moment like this. One whe
re he still had feelings for me.

  I didn’t know what my feelings were. I tried not to have feelings. Which was probably why Sharon was worried about me. Her words were an awakening of sorts. Honestly, I thought people saw me the way I saw myself. A hardworking, introverted, quirky scientist. I thought perhaps my colleagues and counterparts respected me and admired my dedication. Now I feared they thought I was clinically certifiable.

  The look Sharon gave me would be forever etched in my memory. I had seen the look before from the social worker who placed me with my aunt and uncle, and the emergency crew that tried to salvage the house of nightmares I’d been forced to call home so long ago. The look was beyond feeling sorry for me. They longed to rescue me but knew they couldn’t and it killed them to know my hell would continue. I’d vowed after I left for college I would never be in a position for anyone to ever show me such pity. I failed.

  I leaned my head against the cool glass of the truck window, trying to hold back the tears. I wasn’t that girl. I’d done everything I could to assure I wasn’t. So I didn’t have friends or a love life; I was productive and making my way. I never took, even gave when I could. There were at least a dozen undergrads who could thank me for helping them pass organic chemistry. Not to mention all the roommates I’d saved from failing everything from calculus to American history. And it was because of me that the project grant I worked under was awarded.

  And I could have dated if I’d wanted to, but I had better things to do than go to frat parties and drink my weight in alcohol. Or date my professors. I’d had a few suggest we should see each other once I was no longer in their classes, even a married one. I thought it was inappropriate, especially the latter one. And Tyson had asked me out, but like I said, he smelled odd. The times I did go out on a date only showed me why it was a waste of time. College boys were interested in two things as far as I could tell: free tutoring and casual sex. I was available for neither.

  When we hit Paradise’s city limits I sat up and wiped my traitorous eyes.

  Porter glanced my way and caught the emotion leaking out of me. “Is it so bad you have to spend two weeks in Paradise?”

  Bad hardly covered it. “I feel as though I could ask you the same question.”

  He gripped his steering wheel. He did that a lot. “I know I should have come home before now. It’s complicated. But I’m happy we’re here together.”

  “And how long are you staying?”

  “That’s more complicated.”

  I turned back toward the window. Everyone looked so happy under the Paradise sun. Spring breakers abounded in bikini tops with chiseled, shirtless men wagging after them. There were families, too, strolling through the shops, eating ice cream, and looking as though they had not a care in the world. I wondered what that felt like.

  “Holland.” Porter reached across and stroked my cheek. “I’m not exactly sure what the future holds, but I don’t believe it was an accident that we both came back to Paradise at the same time.”

  I continued to stare out the window. “I don’t believe in fate.”

  “This isn’t fate. It’s a second chance.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed in those either.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mrs. Clairborne fussed over me while helping me unpack in the same guest room I’d vacated yesterday. Was it only yesterday? It felt like forever.

  “Sit, sit, I can put your clothes away.”

  There wasn’t much in my small suitcase. Some shorts, t-shirts, and cutoffs made up the bulk of it. I’d haphazardly thrown things in while Porter stood and watched me. I’d noticed him trying not to cringe at my living situation.

  “You don’t have to do that.” I rested my crutches against the bed, determined to at least fold the clothes before she had a chance.

  She swatted my hand away. “I mean it, get off that foot.”

  “Mrs. Clairborne.”

  “Natalie, please.” She beamed at me.

  “Okay, Natalie. Thank you.” It was inadequate, but all I could think of to say.

  She dropped my geeky, Never Trust an Atom; They Make Up Everything, t-shirt. “You don’t know how happy I am that you’re here.”

  I think I had an inkling. When we pulled into the garage, she came out running and opened my door for me, smiling like all her dreams had come true. Only Porter had ever given me such a smile.

  “Please let me know what I can help with. I’m a decent cook and—”

  “You stop right there. You are here to heal and relax. And . . .” she gave me a strained smile, “help Charlotte with her science project if you still can.”

  “Of course. I would be happy to.” I shimmied up on the bed, careful not to bang or move my ankle too much. It felt awkward watching Natalie wait on me, but what else could I do?

  “So,” Natalie took some folded shirts to the dresser, “you and Porter have been spending a lot of time together. How’s it going between you two?”

  I had to think about what to say. “He’s been more than nice to me and I keep telling him I don’t like him.”

  She laughed hard enough her shoulders shook. “Good for you.” She shut the drawer and headed back my way to fold more of my clothes. She folded slowly and deliberately. “Is that how you really feel?”

  I pulled up my uninjured leg and tucked it under me. “I don’t know how to feel. Sometimes I wonder if I’m capable.” Why I admitted that to her, I don’t know. Something about her invited confidences.

  She dropped the cutoffs she was folding and gave me her full attention. “What do you mean, honey?”

  I ran my hand over the tufted white comforter. It lent no comfort whatsoever or any idea how to get into words what I meant. I wondered if I should say anything, but then I remembered the look on Sharon’s face. I didn’t want to be that person. The woman with no one.

  “As you know,” I started and paused. Opening up wasn’t my strong suit. “I didn’t grow up under ideal circumstances.” I dared a glance at her.

  Her eyes said to continue.

  “There were no hugs or kisses or I love yous. At least not that I remember. I had a picture of my grandma once when I was a baby and the way she held me and looked at me, I could tell she loved me, but she died when I was three.” I choked on my words. I longed for that photo, but it was lost in the fire.

  Natalie placed her hand on my leg, lending me some courage to continue.

  “When I came to work here I knew very little about affection. I’d had some nice teachers along the way and a friend here and there, but that was the extent of it. Then came Porter.”

  Natalie squeezed my leg as if she was bracing herself.

  I swallowed and did my best to make eye contact. Her brown eyes asked me to go on.

  “He,” my eyes misted, “he showed me something very different. It was like another world to me, and why I justified breaking your rules. Never had anyone been as kind as he was to me.”

  Pride radiated from her.

  “I was always determined to grow up and live a different kind of life than the one I had been dealt, but Porter made me believe I could.” Tears spilled down my cheeks. “He loved me when no one ever had. I believed him, and . . . I loved him, though I could never tell him because I was so afraid. I’d never felt that way before.” Never once had I said those words out loud.

  “Oh, honey.” She wrapped me up in her arms whispering how sorry she was, letting me cry on her shoulder.

  “When he left like he did, it hurt in unimaginable ways,” I sobbed. “Ways I never wanted to feel again. And it only confirmed what I was suspicious of all along, I am unlovable.”

  She rubbed my back and held me tight. “That’s not true.”

  “Despite what Porter did, I tried dating other men.” Not a lot, but it had happened. “And I’ve never felt the same way and they didn’t either.”

  She pulled away and wiped my cheeks. “Did you ever think that maybe they were the wrong men or that . . . you were still in love
with Porter?”

  I leaned away with the widest of eyes.

  A smile grew on her lovely face. “It never crossed your mind?”

  I shook my head. “I couldn’t be,” I stuttered. “I saw him kiss another woman and he never contacted me again.”

  Her smile faded. “Yes, well, we all know how insensitive he was. He acted like a foolish boy for many years. But we still love him, and regardless of his actions, we knew he still loved us, though he’s done a poor job of showing it. Not that I entirely blame him.”

  I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

  “Men,” she sighed. “Beau was too hard on him. Porter needed to find his own way and had tried to talk to his dad, but Beau was set on him doing it the ‘right’ way. And I knew Porter resented his dad for remarrying. He thought we loved Charlotte more than him. It wasn’t and isn’t true.” Her voice cracked. “And if Beau had swallowed his pride and gone after him, he wouldn’t have stayed away so long. Beau only proved to him what Porter falsely believed all along.”

  “I thought you were the perfect family.”

  She touched my cheek and laughed. “There is no such thing. Just like there is no perfect path to love. Every couple has bumps in their road.” She gave me a sly grin. “Sometimes even long absences.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her not-so-subtle hint.

  She dropped her hand and went back to folding clothes. “Take it from a woman who knows a thing or two about Clairborne men, they are as pigheaded as they come, but the fiercest of lovers. You can’t go wrong with one. They need reminders every now and then, but eventually they listen.” Her eyes bore into mine. “And once they know what they want, they’ll do everything they can to secure it.”

  “Are you trying to warn me?”

  “I’m telling you that whether it’s Porter or some other lucky man, you deserve the best kind of love. The kind I know my son can give you. You are a remarkable young woman. You only have to believe it regardless of whether anyone else does or not.”