Second Chance Summer

by Kait Nolan

  “Maybe you should wait a little bit, until you’ve had some time to process this, before you get behind the wheel.”

  The gaze he turned on her was flat, a desolate nothing that was worse than anger or pain. “They’re waiting for me. I need to go.”

  He needed to run. To escape. Desperation was clear in every staccato movement. He was barely holding it together, and Audrey was terrified of what might happen when he really broke.

  “I could come with you.” The words were out before she could think better of them. It was too soon, too intimate. A thing you offered when you were in a true relationship, and they were…Audrey didn’t know what they were. But they’d shared more than just fun and laughter this week. More than sex. That had to count for something.

  “What?”

  “I could go back to Syracuse with you.”

  “Why?”

  His tone was so baffled, she regretted making the offer. But she’d already started down this path, so she pushed on. “For you. To be a support. To help. Whatever you need.”

  For the first time since they’d met, Hudson stared at her like the freak she’d so often felt like. The strange one. The out-of-sync. And she knew she’d said the wrong thing.

  “This is my real life, Audrey. The real world. Whatever we’ve had, whatever this has been, ends at the camp property line. We agreed on that.”

  No, they’d agreed not to talk about it. Maybe an ending had been implicit, but she’d thought, after last night—

  “There’s no room for this where I’m going. You’re a distraction I can’t afford.”

  He was grieving, angry at the world and blaming himself. She was the nearest target. But even seeing that, knowing it, didn’t diminish the pain of his words. How could he reduce what they’d shared to a mere distraction?

  Audrey knit her hands and hated herself for the show of weakness. She had to work at keeping her voice steady. “You’ve helped me through so much. I just wanted to return the favor.”

  “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t need help.”

  “Everybody needs help sometimes. There’s no shame in that.”

  “And what help would you be, exactly? You need rescuing every time you turn around. I can’t be that guy. Especially not now. I’ve got too much on my plate.”

  She flinched away as if he’d struck her. “I didn’t ask you to rescue me,” she whispered. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

  “Neither did I.” He tossed his duffel bags over his shoulder. “Goodbye, Audrey.” And without another word, he walked out.

  She sank down on his bed, her knees knocking together too hard to continue to stand. She was still sitting there some time later when Charlie and Sam came into the cabin, laughing and joking.

  “Audrey! You’re back! How did the great camping trip go?” Sam asked.

  “Hey, where’s Hudson’s stuff?” Charlie asked.

  Audrey raised her head to look at them, her whole body feeling leaden from her own grief. “Gone,” she managed and burst into tears.

  ~*~

  “Firefighter John Matthew McCleary—Lehigh County Dispatch.”

  The sound of the radio was too loud over the sober masses by the graveside. It raked Hudson’s already raw nerves and made him want to scream. The waiting silence as the dispatcher began John’s last call was worse.

  “Firefighter John Matthew McCleary—Lehigh County Dispatch.”

  Hud’s hands curled to fists as he stared at the flag-draped coffin on the little dais beneath the tent. He wanted to think his heart couldn’t break any further, but every moment of this funeral shattered it just a little more.

  “Having heard no response, we know that Firefighter McCleary has responded to his last call on Earth and that the fire department in the hereafter has a new responder.”

  A soft, choked noise came from Rachel as the dispatcher continued.

  “Firefighter McCleary served the citizens of Lehigh County for twelve years. We appreciate Firefighter McCleary’s dedication and his family’s sacrifices during the time he was a Firefighter. Your warm laugh and ready smile will be missed.” The dispatcher’s voice hitched for a moment before she continued. “Firefighter McCleary, you have now become a Guardian who will help watch out for all Firefighters as they respond to emergencies. You’ve completed your tour as a Firefighter in this life and are clear to remain with the Lord forever. Goodbye, and we’ll take it from here.”

  The dispatcher signed off, advising all units of a moment of silence.

  When it was done, the bugler, set up on a hill about twenty-five yards away, began to play TAPS. Hudson stepped toward the casket, along with another of the honor guard, and began to fold the flag. It was a ritual he’d performed just months ago for Steve. He’d barely held it together for Steve’s mom. The fresh pain of John’s death all but took him to his knees as his hands performed their duty. He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to hold on to his emotions for Rachel’s sake. Per ceremony, he turned to present the flag to the fire chief, who turned and knelt, presenting it to Rachel. John’s widow, who would never again hear her husband laugh or make jokes, would never bear his children, or grow old by his side. In unrelieved black and the pearls John had given her for their fifth anniversary, she clutched the flag, lifting her eyes to Hudson’s.

  God, how could she even look at him?

  Shame that he was the reason for this clogged his throat. But he didn’t look away. He owed Rachel that much. They held each other’s gaze, lost in shared grief, until Hudson realized the other mourners were filing away. The funeral was over. Everything was over. And he didn’t have the first clue how to go on living. He moved to Rachel, wanting to offer—what? His condolences? His service? His life? The wish that he could trade places with John and give them the long life together they’d deserved? Nothing would ever be enough to make up for John’s sacrifice.

  “Rach, I—” What could he say? In the end, he said nothing, wrapping his arms around her. As she rested her head against his chest, the flag trapped between them, he looked away, searching the crowds for some kind of an answer, some sort of guidance.

  A flash of red hair had him going stock still, his heart shooting into his throat. But the woman walking away from the graveside had too even a gait in the three-inch heels and none of the scars crisscrossing the legs that were bare beneath the black funeral dress. Not Audrey. Of course, it wouldn’t be Audrey. He’d made it perfectly, painfully clear where they stood that last day at camp. Nowhere.

  It had to be that way. When she’d made her offer, every cell in his body had wanted to grab her up and fall to his knees in thanks that she was willing to endure this with him. And he didn’t deserve that kindness. He didn’t deserve any sort of a buffer against the grief and guilt. How could he possibly have accepted her offer of support, when Rachel was here with no one? Never mind the friends and family who’d turned out, lining the streets of town. She was alone because of him, and Hudson couldn’t even think of moving on with his own life now.

  So, he’d lashed out, striking at her in the only way that would ensure she’d stay at camp and not do something crazy like come up to Syracuse on her own. In his way, he’d meant it. There was no room for her in the life he had here. Because eventually her sweet nature and enthusiasm for the second chance she’d been given would heal him—which he didn’t deserve. Or those same things he loved about her would dim. Her light would go out in the face of the toxic shit that was his world right now—and she deserved better than that. So, he’d been cruel, saving her one last time, this time from him.

  No, Audrey wouldn’t be coming back into his life. But he realized, as he stared at the retreating back of the other woman, that a part of him had been looking for her anyway.

  “Hud? What is it?” Rachel was following his gaze.

  He shook himself. “It’s nothing.”

  She’d be expected back at the house for the reception. It would be overflowing with family, friends, other fir
st responders. He dreaded the whole thing and couldn’t imagine how she was bearing up so well under the strain. But he’d be there. He’d do whatever could be done to lighten her load. He’d take care of her in John’s absence.

  With a sigh, he steeled himself. “Are you ready?” The moment the words were out, he wished he could take them back. Was anyone ever ready to face the endless sympathy and parade of casseroles that hammered home the death of a loved one?

  Rachel kissed her fingers, then laid them over the polished wood of the coffin. The finality of the gesture gutted him. Then she straightened her shoulders and took the arm he offered. “Let’s go honor my husband.”

  Chapter 13

  “They’re setting up for the talent show in the lodge. You should come.” Sam’s voice was overly cheerful, as if by sheer will alone she could counter Audrey’s melancholy.

  Audrey glanced up at her from her potter’s wheel and didn’t move, her hands still wrapped around the rhythmic turning of the clay. “I’m fine here.”

  “Honey, you’ve been holed up in here for days. We’re going home day after tomorrow. I don’t want to see you skipping out on the last of camp.”

  Audrey would’ve happily gone home as soon as Hudson left. If Sam hadn’t been with her, she would have. But they’d paid for the full two weeks and Sam was having a blast, so she’d stayed. Everything at Camp Firefly Falls reminded her of Hudson and made her ache—being here in the pottery studio especially. But she’d found it soothing before him, and she’d be damned if he’d ruin that for her, too. So, she’d stayed hidden, avoiding the other campers, and counting down the days until she could leave.

  “I’m itching to get back to work.” Which was a partial truth. She was itching to get back to the university, to a world that made sense to her, where she knew the expectations.

  Sam knit her hands, her brow furrowed with distress. “Audrey.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not. You’re barely eating. You’re not sleeping. I’m worried about you.”

  Audrey sighed. She’d appreciate the friendship later, but right now, she just wanted to be alone in her misery. “Okay, I’m not. But I’ll be fine when we get home.” Where she wouldn’t think of Hudson everywhere she turned.

  “I’m sorry I pushed you into pursuing him.”

  “You didn’t push me into anything I wasn’t gunning for myself. And you hardly pushed me into bed with him. I made that decision on my own.” Because it hadn’t been simple attraction pulling them together. They’d found something with each other. Something she’d come to treasure. She just…hadn’t expected he’d let it go so easily.

  “Are you in love with him?” Sam asked quietly.

  Audrey dropped her head, wishing her hair was loose instead of gathered in a knot at her nape, so she could hide from the question. Because she’d known the answer when they’d gone camping, and she didn’t want to think about the truth of it.

  “I think…I’ve been a little bit in love with a fantasy version of him since he pulled me out of that car. But the time with him here? Getting to know the real man? That just blew the fantasy out of the water.”

  Sam laid a hand on Audrey’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry he hurt you.”

  “He didn’t do it deliberately.” Audrey was rational enough to recognize that. He was drowning in grief and guilt and shoving her away because he didn’t believe he deserved anything good in his life. Not that what he’d said stung any less. “And he never made me any promises. I was the one who tried to change the rules.” Because she cared about him, and she was worried about how he was coping with John’s death. She was still worried. Not that she’d heard from him. He was well and truly out of her life. It was on her to learn how to live with that.

  The outside door to the building opened. Audrey hoped someone else was coming to work in the studio and that it would put a stop to Sam’s well-intentioned attempts to talk about this.

  Heather stepped into the room. “Hey Audrey. I was hoping I’d find you here. You’ve got a phone call up at the lodge.”

  Audrey’s fingers flexed, and the wall of her vase dipped in, the whole thing collapsing. “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know, but he was very insistent that he talk to you. He’s still on hold.”

  Hudson. A surge of hope had her fumbling to turn off the wheel. She dumped the entire failed vase into the scrap bucket, quickly washing her hands. “Lead the way.”

  Was the funeral over? Had he realized he needed her? Did he regret what he’d said? Maybe he just wanted to apologize. The possibilities rolled around in her head like a bag of spilled marbles, shooting off in all directions. By the time they made it to the lodge office, her heart was tripping double time.

  “I’ll just give you some privacy.” Heather shut the door behind her.

  Audrey scooped up the receiver. “Hello, this is Audrey.”

  “Dr. Graham! This is Dr. Feinstein out at UC Berkeley.”

  Surprise was quickly chased by disappointment. Of course, it wouldn’t be Hudson. Why should anything have changed with him? He’d made his position perfectly clear.

  She struggled to keep her tone professional. “Sir. How unexpected to hear from you.”

  “Yes, I apologize for bothering you on your vacation. I got the number from your parents. It’s just that the board has made a decision, and I didn’t want to wait to get in touch with you. We’re delighted to offer you a position on our faculty.”

  Shock stole her voice for a long moment. She hadn’t even thought about Berkeley since she got to camp, other than briefly mentioning the interview to Hudson, and here the department head was offering Audrey her textbook perfect job on a platter.

  Her brain kicked in. Say something. “I…wow. I’m so flattered.” She ought to be beyond flattered. This was what she’d been waiting for, a chance to get back to the academic fast track and make up for lost time. No one could have predicted that they’d jump at her with the two-year gap in research.

  “I’m sure you’re entertaining multiple offers, and we wanted to get in at the front of the pack.”

  She listened as Dr. Feinstein continued to talk about the details of the offer, making notes and asking questions, re-engaging the academic side of her brain. And it was good to feel wanted, mollifying to feel respected. This was her world. The place where she was most comfortable. As the conversation continued, she found herself getting excited about academia again. The position would be a challenge. She hadn’t had a real mental challenge, something she could sink her teeth into, since before the accident.

  Well, she’d had Hudson. She’d felt…needed and useful trying to help him embrace life again. But she’d failed him in the end. He wouldn’t take his second chance at life. But maybe she could explore that area in formal research. It was something to consider.

  “I still need some time to think about it before I give a final answer.”

  “Of course. Of course.” Dr. Feinstein was all agreeableness. “We look forward to hearing from you and hope you’ll be joining our faculty this fall.”

  As Audrey told him goodbye and hung up, she considered that maybe this was exactly the sign she’d been waiting for.

  ~*~

  Hudson shut the door to Rachel’s house after the last guest. “I’m glad that’s over.”

  From her position on the sofa, Rachel kicked off her pumps and flexed her feet. “It was good, though. To hear all the stories.”

  “John was well loved.” Hudson crossed back to the living room, slipping off his dress uniform coat and draping it over a chair. “Want a drink?”

  “God, yes. There’s wine in the kitchen.”

  He poured her a glass, then cracked open the fridge to grab a beer. But there wasn’t one. Because Rachel didn’t drink beer, and John hadn’t lived here in three months. Wishing for something stronger now, he splashed some more of the wine into a second glass for himself and went back to join Rachel on the sofa.

  “I’m glad
everybody shared their pictures.” She took the wine and continued to scroll through image after image on her laptop. John at picnics or family functions. John around town. Some were of John at work, cleaning or storing equipment or otherwise horsing around the firehouse. Steve was in so many, and so was Hudson. They’d both been an inextricable part of his life, and without them, it felt like everything was unraveling.

  “Have you added yours?” she asked.

  “Not sure what all I’ve got.” Hudson pulled out his phone and unlocked it before handing it over to Rachel. He took a testing sip of the wine. Not his preference, but it didn’t totally suck.

  Rachel had paused on some picture or other, an odd expression on her face.

  “What is it?” he asked. Man, had one of the guys taken some kind of compromising picture he didn’t know about? Maybe he should’ve pre-screened what was on there.

  She turned the phone around. “Who is she?”

  From the screen a familiar, smiling face stared out, pressed cheek-to-cheek with his. Hud felt a stab of pain at the sight of it. “Audrey.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Which tells me next to nothing. Who is she to you? A woman you met at camp?”

  He took a bigger gulp of wine. “Not exactly. I worked an accident she was in a couple years ago.” He told her about the wreck and how Audrey had ended up at Camp Firefly Falls.

  “Wow. That seems like kismet.”

  Of course, Rachel, with her gooshy, romantic heart, would think that. “It’s just a small world.”

  “You spent a lot of time with her?”

  Only every waking minute. “A fair bit.”

  “You’re smiling in this picture.”

  Hud knew she was fishing. Under other circumstances he’d have shut this line of questioning down fast. But this was as much about distraction for her as interest in what had been going on with him. “Yeah. It was a good day.” She’d made him take basket weaving with her. The corner of his mouth quirked as he remembered her excitement.