Second Chances

by T. M. Franklin

  “Open it.”

  Her eyes flashed to his briefly before returning to the box. She tugged on the bow, pulling it from the package, then slid her finger under the wrapping to remove it. She hesitated for a moment before lifting the lid.

  “Oh, Carter,” she breathed, lifting it from the box and studying the little heart-shaped charm that now said Kenzie in elegant script, accented by two little gemstones.

  “They’re the kids’ birthstones,” he pointed out.

  Kenzie nodded. “I see that. It’s . . . it’s beautiful, Carter. But it’s too much. How can we afford this?” She lifted her hesitant gaze to his.

  Carter waved off her concerns. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Kenzie’s brow creased. “But, Carter, after last night—the helicopter ride and dinner . . . and that hotel suite, and now this. It had to cost a fortune.”

  He leaned in and kissed her forehead indulgently. “I said, don’t worry about it,” he repeated.

  Kenzie’s face tensed. “But where is the money coming from?”

  Carter felt a twinge of irritation. “Kenzie, can’t you just enjoy the gift? Why are you making such a big deal about this? I’ve got it covered. Can’t you just trust me?”

  Kenzie frowned for a moment, biting her lip. “Of course, I trust you,” she said finally, worry still evident on her face. “It’s a beautiful bracelet, Carter. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She put the lid back on the box. She didn’t say anything more about the money, but Carter could sense the issue wasn’t settled.

  “I’m really tired,” she said, standing up slowly and not meeting his eyes. “The kids will be up early tomorrow. I’m going to go to bed.”

  Carter waited for her to invite him to go with her, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned over to kiss him softly on the cheek.

  “Thank you again,” she said politely. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” Carter replied, trying to hide his disappointment. He’d been so hopeful that the bracelet would help him turn a corner with Kenzie, but he had the strangest feeling that it might have actually made things worse. He slipped off his shoes, and stretched out on the sofa, then sat up again to pull his wallet and keys from his pocket. When he saw the little silver bell resting in his palm, he considered it carefully.

  Henry had told him only to use it for emergencies. He wondered if not knowing what was going through his wife’s mind would qualify.

  Or an epic case of sexual frustration.

  Or a desire to sleep on a real bed instead of a lumpy sofa.

  He looked at the bell for a long time, weighing the pros and cons of ringing it and maybe getting a few answers to help him along the way. But, he couldn’t fight the feeling that maybe he needed to hold off . . . that he might need Henry more at another time and he needed to save his last two bell rings for even more desperate times.

  His heart sank at the thought that things could get worse.

  Finally, he opened a drawer in the side table, deposited his wallet, keys, and the bell inside, and closed it quietly.

  He’d keep at it, for now, and try to find his way on his own.

  The bell was always there if he needed it.

  The sun was just coming up when Carter awakened. He lay on the couch in the quiet house, listening for the noise that had roused him. He was certain he’d heard something, although in his sleep-slowed mind, he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  Then he heard it again. A muffled whine . . . or sob. Coming from down the hall.

  Thinking maybe one of the kids had had a bad dream, he got up from the couch and followed the sound. As he walked out of the living room, he noticed a dim light coming from the office, and realized that was also where the noises were coming from.

  His stockinged feet were silent on the floor as he neared the cracked door. Listening closely, he peered through the small opening, only to see Kenzie sitting at the desk facing the computer screen. She was turned away from him, so he could only see the side of her face, but as she sniffed and wiped a hand across her cheek, he realized she was crying.

  “Kenzie?” He pushed the door open and entered the room. “What’s wrong?”

  Kenzie spun around in surprise and jumped to her feet. “I didn’t hear you there.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Carter took a step toward her, but stopped short at the look of misery on her face. “What is it?”

  Kenzie’s face hardened, but the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Carter tried to look around her at the computer screen to see what she was doing, but he couldn’t quite make it out.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, her voice raspy. “I came down here and thought I’d get a little work done. I found an e-mail from our car insurance company. You know how we have it set up for automatic payments from our credit card, then I pay the card off every month?”

  Carter felt his stomach tighten. He didn’t like where this was going.

  “Well, apparently this month’s payment was rejected,” Kenzie continued, her voice not accusatory, but kind of empty. “I thought it must be some kind of mistake, so I logged on to our Visa account. The card is maxed out, Carter.”

  Carter swallowed thickly. “It’s really not that big a deal—”

  Kenzie continued as if he hadn’t spoken, her eyes still bright with tears. “So, just on a hunch, I checked our other cards. Can you guess what I found?”

  “Kenzie—”

  “A little over three-thousand dollars, Carter,” she said. “Three-thousand dollars in less than a week.”

  Carter cleared his throat. “Well, I had to pay Lester for fuel . . . and then there was the rental car . . .”

  “We worked so hard to pay those off.” Kenzie shook her head as if dazed, her voice quiet and lifeless. “After we had to have the roof replaced. Don’t you remember? We paid all that interest, and once we got out from under that debt, we decided together that we’d keep our credit limits low and pay the cards off every month. And that we’d decide together before using them for any major purchases.

  “Kenzie, I’ll take care of it.”

  “How, Carter?” she asked, anger beginning to tint her voice. “We barely make enough between us to pay the mortgage and our regular bills. How are we going to find another three thousand dollars?”

  Carter ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ll find a way. You don’t have to worry about it.”

  “Don’t tell me not to worry about it!” Kenzie shouted. She clenched her eyes shut, taking a breath to calm herself. “This affects both of us, Carter. Those cards are ours. The debt is ours. You can’t just tell me to not worry about it.”

  Carter felt his eyes narrow. “And I’m telling you I’ll take care of it. I caused the problem and I’ll fix it.”

  Kenzie collapsed back into her chair. “You just don’t get it, do you?” At his blank look, she continued, “We used to be a team. We used to be partners. We’re supposed to face things like this together. I’ve said it over and over again but you never hear me.”

  Carter collapsed onto a chair. “I just wanted you to have a special night . . . to have some nice things.”

  “Stop. Please stop, Carter,” Kenzie rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know how many times I need to say it. I don’t need things. I just need you. I need us.” She turned to the computer screen, closing windows and shutting everything down. “I have to get to the bank when it opens,” she said. “I’m going to try and figure out what to do about the insurance payment.”

  “I can help,” Carter offered.

  “I think it would be better if you stayed here,” Kenzie countered. “The kids will be up soon.” She hesitated, not meeting his eyes. “And I think it might be better if you stayed at Noah’s for a little while.”

  “Kenzie, no,” Carter murmured, a wave of panic washing through him.

  “I just need some time,” she said quietly. “We both need some time, I think, to cool off
and get our heads straight.”

  “Kenzie, don’t do this.”

  “I’m not doing anything, Carter,” she said firmly, her hurt, brown gaze meeting his. “I’m asking you to give me some time. Please.”

  Carter stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

  Kenzie gathered up some papers and walked out of the office. A few minutes later, Carter heard the sound of the front door closing, followed by the rumble of the minivan’s engine as Kenzie pulled out of the driveway. He walked over and sat down behind the desk, dropping his elbows to its surface and his face to his palms.

  How had this happened? He had such grand plans, and the best of intentions, but—like an idiot—he didn’t think it through. He never considered that his spending might actually put a financial hardship on his family. Over the past few years, money hadn’t really been an issue for him, but now he kicked himself for not thinking about the consequences of his actions.

  He owned a little start-up newspaper in a tiny town. His wife was a school teacher. They had two kids. And it never occurred to him that spending a thousand dollars on a new suit might not be the best idea?

  Idiot.

  Carter tugged at his hair. He couldn’t blame Kenzie for being angry and upset, but he was also starting to feel more than a little frustrated. He really didn’t have a clue what was going on—although with every passing moment he was starting to get a better idea—and he was getting tired of paying for mistakes that someone else had made. The other Carter. The one who he was beginning to think didn’t even deserve Kenzie . . . or this life.

  At the same time, he felt a niggling sense of guilt. Because the fact was, the other Carter was him. The him he would have been if he’d made the choices that Carter had made. Sure, he could judge that Carter now, from where he stood as an outsider looking in, but in reality he knew he was judging himself. He was getting a glimpse of who he would have been had he made different choices in the past, and to be completely honest, he wasn’t too happy with what he saw.

  He had no idea what to do about it, though, and he was beginning to think it was time to ask for help.

  Carter stood abruptly and walked back into the living room. The sun was up and he could hear the kids moving around upstairs. He went to the side table and pulled the drawer open. He took out his wallet and keys, shifting some papers around as he searched for the little silver bell.

  It was gone.

  “Oh no,” he muttered, pulling everything out of the drawer and setting it on the floor. He even removed the drawer, shaking it upside down before getting down on his knees to search under the table and sofa.

  Where was it?

  “No, no, no . . .” he chanted, sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa, his knees bent and his head cradled in his arms. “What the hell am I going to do now?”

  “Daddy?” A little voice drew him from his agonized thoughts. He looked up to see Brady standing in front of him, his little face red and tear-stained.

  The bell forgotten for the moment, Carter reached for his son. “Brady? What’s wrong, buddy?”

  The little boy’s lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I did something bad.”

  Carter ran his hand over the boy’s sweat-dampened hair. “It can’t be that bad, Brady. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  Brady’s head fell forward, his eyes focused on his bare toes. “I, uh, I took your bell.”

  “You took it?”

  “I was looking for my Hot Wheels fire truck and I saw it in the drawer,” Brady said in a rush of words. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  Carter felt a surge of relief. “Well, just give it back, buddy. It’s okay.” He held out his hand and Brady slowly lifted a chubby fist and dropped the bell into Carter’s outstretched palm. A curious thought popped into Carter’s mind. “Brady, how did you know it was mine?”

  Brady swallowed nervously before whispering, “The angel told me.”

  Carter chilled slightly. “Angel? Do you mean . . . Did you . . . Brady, did you ring the bell?”

  Brady nodded, his lip trembling.

  “And you saw . . . Henry?”

  Brady nodded again.

  “Did you talk to him?”

  Brady’s mouth curved in a slight smile. “He said I shouldn’t have taken the bell, but he said you’d forgive me if I said I was sorry.”

  “What else did he say? Did he say anything else about me?”

  Brady bit his lip as he thought. “He told me to tell you, ‘That’s two.’ ”

  That’s two. Carter had lost one of his chances to summon Henry for help. He felt a surge of frustration that he’d been held accountable for Brady ringing the bell, but just as quickly, he had to concede that it was his own fault for not keeping the bell on him. He realized his son was watching him warily, most likely still wondering if he was going to get in trouble. Carter smiled and pulled him onto his lap.

  “Brady, why did you say that Henry was an angel?”

  Brady snuggled into his father’s chest. “’Cause of his wings.”

  “He had wings?”

  “Yeah,” Brady breathed. “Big white ones.” He waved his hands in a big sweeping arc to emphasize his words. “He said most people can’t see them, but kids see better than grownups sometimes.”

  Carter chuckled. “I guess that’s true. Did he say anything else?”

  Brady nodded against Carter’s chest. “I didn’t understand it, though.”

  “What did he say?”

  Brady sat up and stared at Carter, his brow creasing as he concentrated. “He said, ‘Tell your daddy he has to listen carefully, but not just with his ears. He has to listen with his heart.’ That doesn’t make sense, does it, Daddy? How can you listen with your heart?”

  Carter pulled his son close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll have to think about that one, buddy,” he said.

  And he did. As he got the kids dressed and ready for the day . . . as he fed them breakfast . . . as he packed a bag to take to Noah’s . . . and as he passed before Kenzie’s sad eyes on his way out the door. She told him she’d managed to get the insurance paid for this month, but they’d have to figure out the credit card problem over the next few days.

  Carter had nodded and told her once again that he was sorry.

  He knew it wasn’t that simple.

  However, he was also beginning to realize that maybe it wasn’t as complicated as he thought. Henry had told him to listen. It was something he really hadn’t done much of since he’d arrived in this rather strange life. He thought he knew what Kenzie wanted—what she needed—but he never really listened when she told him herself.

  What’s important to me doesn’t even matter to you.

  We used to be a team. We used to be partners.

  We’re supposed to face things like this together.

  I’ve said it over and over again but you never hear me.

  I don’t need things. I just need you. I need us.

  Could it be that all Kenzie wanted was for him to be with her? To listen to her? To support and encourage her? Could it really be that simple?

  Carter had been so busy trying to show Kenzie that she was important to him by giving her things, that he didn’t even think about just giving her himself.

  Maybe it was time to try a different tact. Maybe it was time to step back and look at things through Kenzie’s eyes.

  He could do it.

  As he drove to Noah’s house, he made a promise to himself. The other Carter may have taken his wife and family for granted, but he would not. He was going to do whatever it took to make Kenzie realize that he did respect and support her. She would know without a shadow of a doubt that he loved her and the kids . . . and that they were more important to him than any job or missed opportunity.

  He would find a way to fix the problem he’d created with the credit card—he felt he owed Kenzie that much. He’d make sure she took the writing class that was so important to her. And he
’d find little ways—inexpensive ways—to show her how much he cared.

  He’d screwed up, but Carter Reed was a man who learned from his mistakes. And there was no way in hell he was losing Kenzie again.

  Carter spent New Year’s Eve sitting on Noah’s couch, eating leftover Chinese food, and watching the celebration in Times Square on TV. Noah and Lydia had tried to lure him out to the celebration at The Mill, but he’d declined. After spending the day with Kenzie and the kids, he’d returned to Noah’s alone.

  He sighed as the crowd in Times Square celebrated, but refused to give in to despair.

  He was making progress. It was slow. But it was progress.

  It started three days earlier—the day he left home. Or rather, the day Kenzie had kicked him out after he screwed everything up so royally. After checking in with Sandi, he’d gone by the bank and spent some time trying to come up with a way to deal with the credit card problem he’d caused. It was no big surprise—although he wished he’d realized it sooner—that he and Kenzie were not rolling in the dough. Between the two of them, they managed to pay their bills and really had very little debt, other than a car payment and the credit cards—the balance of which Carter had managed to more than double with his two-day spending frenzy.

  Carter had vowed at that moment not to wallow in his mistakes. Instead, he went back to the house in the guise of having forgotten something, and searched through his dresser drawers for a couple of items he was certain he would still have, regardless of the reality he might find himself in.

  When his hand closed on the velvet box tucked under his rolled-up socks, Carter breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized it immediately. Before she died, his grandmother had given him the box, telling him to use the contents however he saw fit. He’d always kept it. Even in his other life the box was always tucked deep in his duffle bag. He opened the box, categorizing the items inside quickly. Flipping it shut, he slid it into his coat pocket. He’d have to decide later what he would keep, and what he would sell.

  Carter had left the house and gone straight to the office. The paper would go to print the next day, so he had to go over the layout and make sure everything was ready on time. The morning passed in a blur of e-mails and phone calls, as well as frantic knocks on his office door by his assistant editor, Ben Garza. It had been a while since he’d worked on a print publication, so he was grateful for the young man’s knowledge and enthusiasm.