Love's Second Chance

by Patty H Scott

  I need to call Michael to let him know my change of plans. “Hey, Michael. Guess what? I showered.”

  “Kat, are you flirting with me?” He laughs.

  “Ha ha, you goofball. I’m not flirting. I’m trying to tell you that your little conspiratorial intervention might have had a smidge of an impact. So thank you.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. You will survive this. It just takes time.”

  “Yeah. I know. Well, actually I’m trying to change things up just a tad. I sent you an email with projects, but I think I’m going to go see my folks for a week first. Can we put off anything else between now and when I get back? You can send me small things to do while I’m there. I’ll finalize edits on what we have for the book project so far. Feel free to schedule any of the stuff I sent you for after my time in Texas. Other than that, I want to lay low and spend time with my parents.”

  “Will do. I’m glad you’re going to see your folks. That sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”

  “I agree. I think it will be good for me.”

  “Okay. Well, you take care of you. K?”

  “I will. Thanks, Michael. You’re the best little brother from another mother. I’ll text you the details. Bye.”

  “Bye, Kat.”

  chapter twenty

  Jack

  I’m at Ferris Wheel toward the end of the shift clearing and wiping tables, but my heart isn’t in it. It’s been over a week since I last heard from Katrina. I’m functioning. That’s what I’d call it. Reminders of her taunt me everywhere I go. She hasn’t returned my texts or calls. It’s like she was a dream I imagined and now I’ve woken up to life without her.

  Everyone keeps commenting on my mood, and it doesn’t help. Why would anyone think saying, “You seem a bit down” would help cheer someone up? Did I mention I’m a bit edgy? Well, I am. I have turned into the worst version of me since she disappeared out of my life.

  I texted Michael again last week. I fluctuate from panic that something horrible happened to anger that she would just leave without a word. Then I land on confused and depressed – and irritable. I don’t want to encroach on Katrina’s life if she doesn’t want me in it, but I do want to know what happened and what is going on.

  As I grab cups left on some of the tables, my phone buzzes.

  Michael: Hi, Jack. Katrina’s ok. Want you to stop worrying. I can’t give you anything more than that. Sorry. Take care of yourself.

  All the numb and lifeless feelings switch to frustration now. She’s okay? And she didn’t text or call? I was worried sick at times, and I had to talk myself down. I constantly reminded myself I would have heard about an accident.

  Right this minute I’m flat out angry at her. How could she just take off? Things were going so well between us. I thought we were building our forever together. As I wipe off tables, thoughts continue ricocheting around in my mind. If I didn’t need to stay here, I’d take off and go for a run. I have enough adrenaline coursing through me to lift a tractor right now.

  Betty is handling the counter. I’m about to wipe the last table and head over to help her when I hear Mindy’s voice from behind me. “Hey, Jack. How have you been?”

  I turn around and set my rag down. “Hey, Mindy. Honestly, I’ve been better. You here for a coffee or can I get you something?”

  “Yeah, actually I’m pretty hooked on that local organic blueberry tea. It’s my new favorite drink.”

  “Coming right up. On the house … By the way, you haven’t heard from Katrina, have you?”

  “No. I haven’t heard from her since she left to head back to L.A.”

  “Oh. So, you knew she went to L.A.?” I feel so betrayed.

  Mindy smiles meekly. “Yes. Didn’t you?”

  “No. I don’t know anything.” I sigh. “We had an amazing trip to Yellowstone. We’d been connecting before the trip and I really thought it was going somewhere. When we came back, we made dinner plans for Wednesday, but when I showed up to pick her up at the inn, she had checked out. I’ve been going crazy trying to find out what happened. I texted and left messages, texted Michael too. She’s not answering my calls or texts. I should have thought to call you to ask. I know you two were getting close. My head just hasn’t been on straight since she left. Honestly, I’ve been a bit lost and edgy. None of it makes sense to me. Ask any of the workers around here and they’ll tell you I’ve been a bear to work for.”

  “I’m sure you’re not a bear.” She gives me a comforting look. Mindy continues explaining, “All I know was that last day I saw her she came to the shop after 4 o’clock. It was a Wednesday, so I think you closed up early, but she must not have known because she was standing at the door looking in, watching you strum your guitar on the stage. She mentioned to me that she didn’t know you played. I told her about how you were in talent shows in high school, but I didn’t know if you had much time to play now that you opened the shop.”

  “Oh. … Oh no. … Oh. Oh shoot. … What did she say then?” No wonder she left! She thought I was hiding the truth from her.

  “Jack? What are you thinking? Did I say something wrong to Katrina?”

  “No. No. It’s not you. I just hadn’t shared with her that I own Ferris Wheel Coffee. I wanted to, and I meant to. It’s just complicated.”

  “Oh, Jack. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I wish I had known. I wouldn’t have said anything. But, Jack, you didn’t have to hide anything from Kat. She loves you, you know. She didn’t say as much, but I know she does, and I’m pretty sure you love her too, and where there’s love, there’s a way to make your way back to one another.”

  My mind is racing trying to determine how to make things right. “Thanks, Mindy. I’m at least glad I know what happened now. This was all my fault, but I intend to straighten this out. Pray for me.” I know what I need to do. “I’m going to go to L.A. and try to get Katrina to understand where I messed up. God willing she’ll be open to giving me another chance.”

  “You know I’ll be praying for both of you. You deserve happiness together.”

  I walk to the counter and ask Betty to make Mindy a blueberry tea. I head to the back office and start to look up flights from Bozeman to Los Angeles. I need to do some quick schedule adjustments to cover the shop while I’m away, but that doesn’t even feel important now. Without Katrina, this shop doesn’t mean anything. The only thing that matters is getting her back.

  I find a seat on a flight out tomorrow afternoon at 2:00 p.m. I make some calls to Bryce and a few other employees to cover shifts. Then I call Brett, explain my situation and ask if I can stay with him for two days. Unfortunately, I have to come back pretty quickly. The shop is still in its first few months and it needs my presence. I have employees and customers to consider. I should be able to see Katrina, hopefully straighten out this mess between us, and make it back here with our relationship restored. That’s my hope, anyway.

  We still have a lot to figure out, but first I need to right my wrong. I can totally see how this might feel like a betrayal to her. With her history, there’s no room for that. I actually feel hopeful and relieved knowing what happened. I at least have a course of action now.

  I walk out front. “Betty, I’ve got an emergency I have to handle.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Well, I messed things up big time with Katrina. I didn’t know what went wrong, but when Mindy was here just now, she filled in the blanks and now I know. I have to go see Katrina and try to make this right.”

  “How can I help?”

  “I booked a flight for tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. If you could pull your afternoon schedule here, then any extra hours you could put in tomorrow would be great. Amelia is already covering Saturday. I’ll be back Saturday late. It’s a turn-around trip. I’ll only be in L.A. less than 24 hours. If you want to pop in Saturday, I’d be grateful. I won’t be back in here until Sunday. Bryce has shifts covered and he knows the bands that are playing, but knowing your eyes are also on the det
ails would make me feel even better.”

  “Sure. I can do extra hours tomorrow and I’ll come in Saturday. I’ll let Amelia and Bryce know they can call me if they need anything too.”

  “Thanks, Betty. You are the best. I’m so grateful for the day you walked through the door of my shop asking for a part-time job. You’ve added special touches that I wouldn’t have even known were key to making this place feel welcoming.”

  “I love it here. You know that. And I want you and Katrina to be happy together. This is the least I can do.”

  * * *

  As I fly over Bozeman, I see all that is familiar to me fading below into a patchwork of farmland surrounded by miniature mountain ranges dotted with tiny groves of pine. I can make out the rivers flowing like blue veins throughout our valley. This is home. But not without her.

  It all makes sense. What a fool I was for not telling her sooner. The more time we spent together, the more I knew we needed the right timing to discuss our situation. I should have made that time happen.

  I guess if I’m being honest with myself, I was holding back because I didn’t want to lose her. I could have made an opportunity, but the idea of scaring her off held me back. And now she’s gone anyway. I know she won’t trust me. She might not even want to see me again. But I have to try. I believe in my heart Katrina is my always. I think she knows it too. I just need her to give me one last chance.

  We land at LAX around 8 p.m. and it’s a sudden culture shock, even at night. Despite having lived here for a few years, being back with horns blaring and people avoiding eye contact – the rush and push of it all makes my body put on some sort of veneer. Whereas Bozeman was a breath of air to me, L.A. feels like a greyhound race. The gate opened and I need to find my lane and push through. I grab my bag, find my rental car, and head out to take the 110 Freeway toward Pasadena.

  I’m going straight to Katrina’s even though it’s late. I’m not stopping at Brett’s. I don’t want to waste a minute of this trip. She’s the reason I’m here, and the sooner I see her, the better. It’s a little after 9 p.m. when I’m park in front of her house, my hands clutched on the steering wheel as I prepare myself to hopefully build a bridge back to Katrina. My heart is beating fast. This is my moment. I get out of the car, walk up the stone steps, and knock. There’s not an answer. I wait a minute and knock again. She must not be home.

  I know it’s a shot in the dark. I came here without letting her know to expect me. The thing is, if she’s avoiding me, I don’t want her to know I’m here until we’re forced to see each other. I don’t want her to push me away without giving me a chance to apologize in person. I need to be face to face with her to explain what happened and why I made the foolish choice to delay telling her about the shop.

  I go back to my car, roll down the window and sit. I can wait. In my heart I know I’ve been waiting for Katrina my whole life. As long as there’s a glimmer of hope that we can make this work between us, I’ll give her all the time in the world.

  An hour passes and she still hasn’t shown up. I decide to text her. I’m not going to tell her I’m here. With her being such a flight risk, I don’t want her to just take off at the thought of seeing me.

  Jack: Katrina, it’s Jack. I understand why you left Bozeman. It was a huge misunderstanding. I don’t want to talk over text. It’s far too important. Text me if you are willing to see me or talk to me. I’m waiting. Always, Katrina.

  I sit in front of Katrina’s until midnight. She hasn’t come back in all this time. Maybe she’s on a shoot, or out with friends. What am I doing here in front of her home? She’s not answering me. She’s ghosted me since she left Montana.

  I thought we had a chance to patch things up. I figured if I could see her, she might give me a chance to apologize for letting my fear keep me from telling her everything. I consider sleeping in my car, but I don’t think that’s a good call. Waiting here isn’t going to solve anything. I reluctantly decide to drive to Brett’s to get some sleep. I’ll try again tomorrow.

  When I get to Brett’s, I carry my duffel into the guest room. He wakes and comes to stand in the doorway of my room. “So how’d it go?”

  “I pulled an unsuccessful mini-stakeout. She wasn’t home, so I waited. She was a no-show.”

  “I’m sorry, bro. I honestly never thought I’d see the day when confirmed bachelor Jack Anders was flying across the country to get a girl. I’m rooting for you.”

  “I know you are, and I appreciate it. I need all the morale boosting I can get right now.”

  “What’s your plan now? Are you going to let her know you were there?”

  I run my hand through my hair. “No. I don’t want to scare her off. She’s mad. We have to talk face to face. I’ll try again first thing in the morning. You might not see me again before I head out.” I pull down the covers on the guest bed. “I have to be at LAX by noon for my 1:30 flight. I’ll get up, shower, and go straight to see her in the morning. She’s not a morning person, but I know her weakness. I’m coming with coffee.”

  “Well, I hope she’s home. You know you always have a place to crash here.”

  “Thanks, Brett.”

  I slept like someone was tapping me on the shoulder all night. Kept waking fitfully. I finally just give up the idea of sleep and shower at 5:30 a.m. I leave Brett a note on the counter thanking him and take off. I stop at a chic little coffee shop here in Pasadena to grab coffee for Katrina and me.

  When I park in front of Katrina’s home, I grab the coffees and walk up her steps. I set mine down and knock. She might be sleeping, but this can’t wait. No answer. I knock again. It occurs to me she may be on a shoot. I was thinking she wouldn’t have work since she had planned to be in Montana through part of last week. This should be a downtime between shoots, but maybe when she came home early, she booked something. I walk down to my car and decide to send Michael a text:

  Jack: Michael, I know you are protecting Katrina, and I appreciate you doing it, really. I just want you to let her know I came to L.A. looking for her. I want to make this right if she’ll let me. If it’s something you can do in good conscience, can you let her know I was here? I went to her home twice. She wasn’t home either time. I texted her too. She’s not answering. I just want her to know she’s never left my mind. I know I messed things up and I want to make it up to her if she’ll let me. Thanks.

  Michael: Jack. I just want you to know I got your text. Can’t say much more than that. I will share what you said with Kat. Feeling for you, man. Hang in there.

  That guy is loyal to Katrina if nothing else. For just this once, I wish he weren’t quite so loyal. I mean, throw a guy a bone! Isn’t there some sort of bro code he’s violating here? But who am I kidding? He didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I’m an amateur at relationships and I messed up the most important one I’ve ever had.

  chapter twenty-one

  Katrina

  I love my parents’ front porch. It’s one of those places that says, “Come on over, y’all, and sit a while.” I’m out here even though it’s hot and humid. I had forgotten how muggy it is in Texas after living in L.A. these past few years. Whew. I pull a scrunchie off my wrist and tie my hair up in a messy bun. Then I sit on the steps staring out across our property. An afternoon breeze blows through, and I close my eyes as I let the wind soothe my worried heart.

  Daddy stops by on his way out somewhere and kisses my head. I don’t know why I hesitated about coming home. I needed this. Just baking, talking, and hanging out with Mama, and having Daddy’s protective and caring presence has been medicine for my soul.

  Being in Texas helps. But I still feel like a shell of a person. I know I can’t keep living like this. Maybe I’ll start wearing all black. That way people will know to keep a safe distance from me because I’m a hot grieving mess who apparently needs her man-picker repaired. I thought Jack was one of the good ones. Maybe I’m just not cut out for relationships.

  I think the only reliable male rela
tionship I have (not counting Michael or Daddy) is with the pizza delivery guy. Pizza. Even pizza has been ruined for me. I can’t drink coffee without thinking of Ferris Wheel Coffee. I can’t eat pizza without picturing the way he listened to me and let me pour my heart out, and then how we sat so comfortably on that bench afterward. It all felt so sincere and promising. I’m ruined. There’s no two ways about it.

  My phone buzzes while I’m sitting on the porch steps.

  Patrice: Hey, girl. I’m just checking on you. How are you holding up? How’s Texas? Meet any cute cowboys?

  Katrina: Hey, yourself. Thanks for checking in. I’m doing pretty well. I felt childish running home to Mama and Daddy, but it was the right thing to do. … As for cowboys. Um no. I’m on the semi-permanent man-fast that may actually be permanent after all. Maybe I’ll have to bring you out here sometime and wrangle you up a cowboy of your own, though.

  Patrice: God didn’t make a woman as captivating as you to make her celibate. Your man is out there, Katrina. I know it. Have you talked to anyone in Montana? … And about getting me a cowboy, if he’s smart, funny, kind, and easy on the eyes, I’m all over that.

  Katrina: You mean did I talk to Mindy? Yes. I did talk to her just yesterday. She’s the sweetest thing ever. … And I think I may just know a few cowboys who fit that description. Looks like we’re taking a girls’ trip to Texas sometime ;)

  Patrice: Actually, I was wondering if you talked to a certain owner of a coffee shop, but I don’t want to get myself black-listed for saying his name in your presence.