Second Chances 101 (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella Book 5)

by Donna K. Weaver

Alex was quiet for so long, Francie wondered if she had crossed a line. She was about to tell him not to worry about answering when he spoke.

  “She can be brutal. No one’s ever had the power to hurt me like she does, except my daughter.”

  “It’s because we care what they think.”

  “I suppose so, though it shouldn’t bother me anymore. When we first started dating, she thought Alex was short for Alexander, which fit her grand ideas. Alexander the Great and all that. Alexis, she thought, wasn’t manly enough. She even nagged me for a while to get it legally changed.”

  “That’s just stupid. Alexanders are a dime a dozen. I like Alexis. It’s unusual.”

  “Do you think there's ever a second chance for people like us, Francie, with all our scars?” He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from her face, leaving his palm on her cheek.

  She reached up and ran her fingers down his cheek, rough with nearly a day's growth. A light smudge of dirt ran down one side, probably from when he had wiped his face while on the roof.

  “There has to be, Alex.” This time, she was the one to lean closer, touching her lips, feather-light, to his soft, warm ones. He pulled her closer, and he tasted like Cheberry.

  His phone rang, and they jumped apart. Alex scrambled to pull it out before it quit ringing.

  “Hey, Sam. You home already?” He stood and held the phone in place with his shoulder while he grabbed his jacket. Alex mouthed to Francie “My daughter,” then talked back into the phone. “I’ve been helping a friend. You want to go to the grocery store?”

  Francie got to her good foot while he struggled into his coat.

  “Why do you need me to come along?”

  When Francie took a hop toward the kitchen, he grabbed her shirt sleeve. “Where do you think you’re going? No, I’m not talking to you, Sam. Hang on.” He muted the phone.

  “I was going to get the leftovers for you,” Francie said.

  “I’ll get them.” He unmuted his phone. “That’s my friend, Sam. She sprained her ankle today . . . no, she's not from that dating site. Do you still have your Aircast from last year? Good. Yes, I want to come with you to the grocery store. I’m on my way now.”

  “I feel like I’m leaving you in the lurch.” Alex put the phone in his pocket. “Do you need help getting to your room?”

  Francie looked up the stairs and shook her head. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. My foot's already feeling better after all that ice you kept putting on it.”

  He hurried into the kitchen and returned with a container. “I’ll bring this back tomorrow with the Aircast.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Do you realize how often you say that? I know I don’t have to.” Alex leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for a great day.” He started walking backward toward the door. “Really.”

  Francie didn’t move as he locked the door from the inside, closed it, and rattled the knob to make sure it was secure. The butterflies in her stomach were dancing the conga. If not for her ankle, her feet would have joined them.

  Alex woke early Sunday morning and lay in bed watching the sun rise. He couldn’t remember when he had felt so good. The change in Sam the last week was nothing short of amazing. The phone call the night before saying she wanted to go shopping so she could cook had nearly floored him. She wanted to eat again. At the grocery store, she had chattered so much he could hardly get a word in. It was like the Before Sam was back. Her face had shone like she had a light shining inside her, like her gray world had suddenly seen the sun. He hoped it wasn’t temporary.

  Stretching, he glanced at the clock. He couldn’t wait to get over to Francie’s house again, but it might even be too early for her. The woman was simply amazing. The house was shabby but clean. How had she managed to work two jobs, care for an ailing husband, support a son preparing to go to Harvard, and maintain that incredible garden he had seen from the roof?

  Thinking back on the day before, a desire to jump up and get to work flooded him. Francie needed his help. Alex grinned. She would fight him all the way, but he was ready for the battle.

  Unable to stay in bed any longer, he got up. As he straightened the sheets, he wondered how she had done with her injured ankle, all alone. What if she had gotten up in the middle of the night and fallen? He hurried to the shower.

  It wasn’t until Alex was in the kitchen, collecting some things to take with him to Francie's, that he remembered he was supposed to meet Destiny that morning. All his anticipation drained away. He stood frozen in place with a package of steaks in one hand and a dozen eggs in the other.

  A vision of Francie sitting at her well-worn table in her comfortable kitchen, laughing with him over dinner, came to mind. He didn't want to meet this Destiny; he wanted to make breakfast for Francie.

  There wasn’t time to do both. Alex eyed the meat. She was so proud. Would she be insulted if he showed up with the Aircast and some food, but couldn't stay? His gut told him she would. Kicking the bottom of the cupboard, he swore and put the meat and eggs back in the fridge. He only had enough time to drive out to her place with the brace.

  The air was still crisp, and the colors in the trees seemed even more vibrant than they had the morning before. There were no signs of life as Alex drove past the front of the house. Was she still sleeping? Was she lying unconscious on the floor, out of reach of her phone?

  He pulled up to the back porch, by the kitchen. The door was locked. Alex gave it a sharp rap and listened. No groans or cries for help. Was that water running? She was probably taking a shower. Relaxing, he took out his phone and sent her a text.

  At your door with the Aircast. Want me to just leave it for you?

  Pressing his ear to the door, he listened for her phone to announce his text. It did, and the sound of water stopped. Finally, his phone dinged with a reply.

  Key under the mat

  Releasing his breath, he bent over and felt underneath. He found the key easily. She needed a better hiding place.

  Once inside, he paused. Alex could tell she had already been busy in the kitchen. The dishes he had left to dry had been put away. He listened for sounds of movement and thought he heard a door open.

  “Francie, are you decent?” he called from the kitchen.

  “I am now. You can come in.”

  He went into the living room. She stood by the downstairs bathroom door, dressed in faded jeans and a huge flannel shirt, a white towel wrapped around her head. Her skin seemed to glow. Makeup free, Francie watched him, a shy smile teasing the corners of her mouth. It wasn't just the beautiful old house that Alex found warm and comforting. Never, in all the time he and Vicki had been together, had it felt like this. He hadn’t known it could.

  “How did you sleep?” he finally asked.

  “Pretty good, considering. I can put a little weight on my foot now.” She took a cautious hobble toward him.

  “Don't overdo it.” He was by her side in two steps and pressed an arm to her waist for support. When she stumbled, he put his other arm under her legs and picked her up.

  “Alex, I can do it myself.”

  “Of course you can.” He carried her to the couch and put her down. “But you don’t have to today.” He grabbed the Aircast from where he had dropped it. “Let me see how this thing works for you. Made a huge difference for Sam.”

  “It's sure ugly.” She sat with her arms folded across her chest as he lifted her leg and slid the brace over her foot.

  “Now you're vain? It will support your ankle and make it easier to get around.” He stood and reached his hands out to her. When she took them, he heaved her to her feet and moved a hand to her elbow. She smelled really good.

  Cautiously, Francie stepped forward, leading out with her bad foot. She only paused a second before putting her full weight on it and taking another step. Then another and another.

  “I can’t believe what a difference this makes,” she said.

  “That’s alm
ost exactly what Sam said when she first put it on. I’m just glad it’s the same foot she hurt.”

  “How are you doing?” Francie asked. When he looked confused, she pointed to his chest.

  “Oh, that. I've had worse.” Alex resisted touching the tender spot. The bruising had doubled in size over night. He checked his watch. “I have a date, uh, an appointment, so I need to get going.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth he wished them back. Was that disappointment behind those beautiful dark eyes? Alex was tempted to change his plans right then.

  “Well, thank you for bringing this by. You could have saved it for Monday.”

  “But you needed it today.” Alex said. “Well, I'd better be off.”

  “Thanks again.” She lifted her bad foot. “It really helps.”

  Alex pulled up to the little dog park where Destiny had suggested they meet. As soon as she had named the meeting place, he'd had reservations. Getting out of the car, he searched the area where people were already letting their pets run.

  He liked dogs. A well-trained pet, given the right balance of discipline and affection, could be a wonderful family addition. His last dog had been killed five years before, hit by a car. Sam had named the beautiful Lab, Bubba, and neither Alex nor Sam had had the heart to fight Vicki about getting another pet. After the divorce, neither of them had had the heart for much of anything.

  One of the dogs in the park took off with a growl after another one, the owners running and shouting after them. Yes, Alex liked dogs. He just didn't care much for them when other people trained them.

  “Are you KnightWeight?” asked a high-pitched, almost little-girl voice behind him.

  He turned around, and his eyes had to track up and up some more before he found the face of the tallest woman he had ever met, her blond hair hanging limply around her shoulders. Alex recognized Destiny from her profile picture. She held a tiny dog in her arms.

  “Nice to meet you, Destiny.” Alex held out his hand, and the dog snapped at it. He jerked his fingers out of reach.

  “Stop it, Pikachu.” Destiny looked Alex up and down. “You're short.”

  Alex squeezed the bridge of his nose and decided not to remind her that his profile stated his height. Besides, he was a good four inches taller than Francie.

  “Have you given your dog a run yet?” he asked, trying to be pleasant.

  “No.” Destiny gave him another appraising look. “You won't do.” Without another word, she lifted Pikachu to her shoulder, turned around, and walked away. From the woman's shoulder, the ugly little rodent snarled, its lip pulled back to show its teeth.

  He stood for a few minutes leaning against the park fence. Glancing at his watch, Alex sighed. He kicked a rock and headed back to his car. Sam would be up by now, and she was cooking dinner.

  Alex whistled as he came down the stairs of his condo on Monday morning. The kitchen still smelled of Sam’s experimental dinner the night before that had been quite good. Between Francie and Sam, Alex thought he must have eaten more eggplant over the weekend than he had all the rest of his life combined.

  Sam was putting a bowl of oatmeal on the table, a steaming cup of herbal tea to the side. She was still dressed like a Goth in black synthetic pants, black blouse with lacy cuffs, and a mock leather vest, her nails freshly painted black, and her makeup neat but not overdone. He had to admit he must be getting used to it because he thought she actually looked quite nice.

  “Good morning, Daddy.”

  “Morning, baby.” Alex kissed her cheek then turned to the fridge.

  “You were really busy Saturday.”

  “Yes, I was helping a hurt friend, remember?” Alex took two eggs from the carton and set them on the counter. “I wasn't going to tell you, but I had a date Sunday morning.”

  Sam sat with her spoon halfway to her mouth. When he didn't continue, she said, “And?”

  “It was a disaster.” As he cooked his breakfast, Alex told his daughter about the huge Amazon with the little-girl voice and a pet rat. Sam was laughing so hard by the end that she was crying.

  “I'm sorry, Daddy. I shouldn't laugh.” She wiped at her eyes. “Did she hurt your feelings?”

  “No, but I'm going to cancel that stupid account.”

  Sam shot him a sly look before dropping her eyes.

  “What are you up to?”

  “You're not giving up on dating, are you?”

  “I . . . I don't think so.”

  “Have you met someone?” Sam was suddenly alert, looking a little excited and a little alarmed at the same time.

  “It's too early to tell,” he said, eyeing her. “What are you doing that you're too busy to come by my office anymore?”

  Sam wouldn't meet his gaze, and all her earlier happiness seemed to fade. So everything wasn't fixed.

  Alex was at the office early. He had agreed not to delete his account, yet. He hadn't checked for new messages since accepting Destiny's invitation. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the list of emails on his cell phone. He didn't have time to go through over a hundred.

  In the outer office, he heard the door open. Francie was early. He jumped to his feet and went to the open door. She put her purse in the drawer and turned on the computer. Alex leaned against the jamb, watching as she stood and went to a file cabinet. She turned around and finally saw him.

  “Look how well you're walking,” he said. “Does it still hurt much?”

  “Not much with the Aircast.” She picked up the folders she would be working with that morning.

  “Here, let me help you with those.” Alex took them and walked with her to the copy room, holding the files in one hand and keeping a solicitous hand on her back.

  “Were you able to get that canning done? I wish I could have helped you.”

  “I got a fair amount done. Do you like salsa?”

  “I love salsa. Do you make it?”

  “I did yesterday. It's a new recipe I downloaded. Do you mind being a guinea pig?”

  “With your cooking? Any day.” Alex found his mouth watering in anticipation.

  Francie gave him a shy smile, her cheeks taking on a pretty flush. Her dark eyes caught him again, and he stumbled.

  “You okay?” she asked, her hand on his elbow to help steady him.

  “Stupid carpet.” He scowled over his shoulder before turning back to her. “So you're experimenting with salsa?”

  “I won't have much variety for Thanksgiving dinner, so I'm trying to come up with something I'm sure Rafe will like. I'm making some tonight, so I'll bring in a sample tomorrow.”

  “I can come and help. You already know I'm a good kitchen slave.”

  “You wouldn't mind?” They were at the copy room door, and Francie turned to face him.

  “Not at all.”

  “The only pay I can give you is dinner.”

  “Stellar. What time?”

  “Seven? I'll feed you then put you to work.”

  “I'll be there.” Alex looked at his watch. “I have to get to class.” He jogged back toward his office.

  “What a hypocrite.”

  Passing Kevin's office, Alex almost missed the low comment. He stopped and took a couple of steps back to find Kevin in his office doorway, his hands in his pockets.

  “What did you say?” Alex asked.

  “You're nothing but a hypocrite, Diederik.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw the way you were looking at our fair little assistant. You’ve got some nerve going postal on me, when you just wanted her for yourself.” Kevin looked down the hallway, where the light from the open copy room door shone, then back at Alex. “I'm sure you've read her file and know she's a recent widow. I never knew you had it in you, going after the vulnerable ones. Is that why your wife left you?”

  Alex almost hit him. He shoved his clenched fists to his sides, his blood pulsing so hard in his head that he could barely see. Kevin didn't say anything else, simply turned and went back in
to his office.

  Francie hung up her cell phone, confused and disappointed. Had she misread Alex? Her cheeks went hot thinking of how she had kissed him on Saturday. She went over his reaction to her that morning. He had volunteered to come over to help her. In his call to say he wouldn't be coming that night, Alex had sounded odd, subdued. What had happened?

  Francie picked up the little jar of jam she had brought for him. She put it on his desk before locking up and heading down the hall toward Professor Eldred's office. He was already in, so she kept quiet in case he was trying to work.

  When Francie got up to file a paper, she was surprised to see him watching her from his doorway. Like Alex, but not like Alex. The way Professor Eldred was looking at her made Francie's skin crawl and brought back unpleasant memories. Her words to Rose about listening to her instincts came back.

  Professor Eldred didn't say anything but turned around and went back in his office, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. She shivered. It was like he had taken a step back to that first day of school when he had made those disgusting comments about her to Alex.

  Francie would have to rearrange the office. She reached into her purse and pulled out a bag that had a small mirror in it. No way was she going to let Eldred watch her from behind without her knowing it.

  By Thursday, she just wanted the miserable week to end. Rose hadn't come to lunch once, but Francie knew the girl was at school because she had seen her go into Professor Eldred's office again early on Wednesday. Francie hadn't been able to stand guard, but she had called another assistant to come over.

  Alex had done a complete turnaround since Monday morning. So much for being on a first-name basis. Now he didn't call her anything, and what little he did say to her was clipped. After giving the Aircast a thorough cleaning, she had put it in his office. Alex hadn't acknowledged it in any way. When he had left for a conference after his Wednesday morning classes, Francie had been relieved.

  Then there was Rafe. He hadn't been there for their weekly call and hadn't replied to her message. He always returned her calls. Sitting in her bedroom that night, Francie had told herself Rafe had his own life, and she needed to leave him alone to live it.