There’s a bang on the door, and I slam the diary shut. Mike comes in and wipes his feet on the mat inside the door.
“What do you need, man?”
“Need to order some more supplies. The boys didn’t tell me we were running low.”
“You can't just go to the merchant?”
“That’s a two hour round trip Deac. I’ll get nothing done today and it’s Friday. The missus has booked dinner for tomorrow so I need to make something today -”
“Fine,” I throw my hands up. Anything but to hear about his materialistic naggy-as-hell wife, “What do you need?”
“Studs, hurricane clips and some sinkers.”
“Fucking hell.” I fight the urge to grab fistfuls of my hair, “I can't get it in until Monday, Mike.”
~
I feel so overdressed for dinner at the old harbour side house that used to be my second home. Mum sent an entire ensemble, and there is no way I’m wearing a tie and jacket for a dinner in someone’s barn dining room. So I’ve worn the trousers and shirt. No tie, no jacket.
I knock on the door quietly. If they don’t hear me, I can say I tried. Esteban Rivera answers the door as I turn to leave.
“Where you going, son?” He asks, and I turn around to greet him.
Esteban hit sixty last month and although his hair is grey and only a small tuft remains on the top of his head, he looks good for a man with three adult kids and an energetic granddaughter. The brown eyes all of his children inherited smile up at me and steps aside, gesturing for me to come in.
“Hi, Mr. Rivera.” I say, shaking his hand to avoid going into the house so soon.
“Esteban.” He corrects and beckons me in again, “Entrar, son.”
I clear my throat, take a deep breath and follow him inside. It always amazes that this place looks so small from the outside; a tiny little house sandwiched between two more tiny little houses, but it’s huge inside. I take another deep breath, and my nostrils fill with the familiar smell of baking. My heart stops. Shit.
“Hey, bro,” Bradley slaps me on the back as he comes down the stairs, “everyone’s out back. Grab a bottle.”
“I can't remember if I locked the gate. I’m gonna go back and check.”
“Mum will kill you.”
“I couldn't give a fuck. This is torture.”
“It’s cake, Deac. Stop freaking. Come on.”
He pushes me into the kitchen. It’s empty, except for the smell of food, and some sort of floral smell.
“Perfume.” Brad says, opening up a bottle and handing me one, “It’s a little more subtle when women with taste wear it.”
I grind my teeth, but drink the beer, finishing it quickly and popping another open with my teeth.
“Where’s Riv’s whiskey?”
“He’ll cut your fingers off.”
I spot the bottle sitting on the cabinet and after peeking outside, undo the lid and pour some in my empty beer bottle. I down it and throw the bottle straight in the bin. The burn in my throat, quickly settling in my stomach numbs me temporarily, until I hear laughter. Real laughter. Not the kind of laugh you get from people who feel sorry for you so they laugh at your shit jokes.
“Let’s eat.” Brad stops at the door when he realises I’m not following, “It’s just dinner.”
Exactly. I’m about to be trapped at a table for three courses of the home-cooked food I used to eat here weekly. My feet follow Brad before my brain realises what I’m doing, and by the time it catches up, I’m at the door of the barn, and can see the group of people inside.
I don’t recognise her straight away. I haven’t seen her for over five years, and she’s changed so much. But here she is; Jenna Rivera, surrounded by people wishing her happy birthday. I recognise them all: Jade, Steve and their daughter Phillipa, Jonas and his latest girlfriend. He brings home so many, I won’t even try to remember her name. Mindy and Esteban, their parents. My mum and brother.
“Ah,” Mum says, approaching me with open arms, “Deacon, you’re here.”
Why does she sound surprised? She made me come. Sent me on the guilt trip she knew would lead me here.
“I can’t stay long.”
“Nonsense.”
“Now we’re all here,” Esteban announces, pecking his daughter on the cheek “vamos a celebrar.”
Everyone sits down, and I try and sneak in between Mum and Brad. She hasn’t noticed me yet. She looks so different. She’s wearing some sort of skirt suit with a shiny shirt. Nothing like the jeans and short t-shirts she used to wear. And she’s dyed her hair blonde, what’s with that? Her long brown waves used to remind me of home when we were at uni together; and she’s tied it up in a weird ball on top of her head. She looks like a city snob. That’s not the Jenna I know.
“Deacon, we have place settings.”
Of course we do. And I’ll bet – Oh look I’ve been conveniently placed next to Miss corporate-birthday-girl.
This is why I’ve kept this day free since my time began. I would always spend Jenna’s birthday with her before, and I never gave up hope that we could do that again. I just didn't want our reunion to be here, like this.
“Hey, Jen.” I say as casually as I can, although my heart is racing and I’m nervous as hell.
She turns and looks at me as if I’m a stranger. Recognition hits her face; she gasps and looks away, twirling the stem of her wineglass.
“Hi Deacon.” She replies, looking anywhere but at me.
I shake my head and reach for the impressive red that Esteban has no doubt had shipped over from his father’s vineyard in Spain. I pour myself a glass and offer to pour one for Jenna, as Mindy gets up and leaves the table. She has to look at me now.
“Thanks.” She mutters, and I see it then. The mask she’s wearing. I see the Jenna I’ve known forever in her eyes, even if the outside is telling me she’s someone else.
“You made your own birthday cake?” She looks at me confused, “I could smell it as soon as I walked in the door.”
Why is she looking at me like I’m a stranger?
“Yeah. I tried a new recipe; thought tonight would be perfect research.”
“It smells good.”
She nods, biting the inside of her cheek, like she has done since we were kids.
“So how is everything?”
“It’s going well. I’ve opened up my second cake store, just hired a couple of managers so I can take some time out.”
“That sounds...nice,” This is so awkward. I used to be able to talk to her about anything, and everything. I used to be able to say nothing; too lost in the sound of her laughter and her sparkling brown eyes conveying a world of love and passion. Now it feels weird just asking her how she is.
“You left.” She whispers before taking a sip of wine, and I see something flash across her eyes. It’s gone the minute she looks away from me, and at her parents who are carrying huge plates of tapas. Her mum sits down straight away, halting any conversation Jenna and I were going to have. Maybe that was her plan; to throw that out there, not let me explain, and then ignore me.
Because that’s what she does for most of the evening. Every few minutes she looks over, as if she is expecting me to disappear, but looks away as soon as our eyes meet. I can't figure her out. We hadn’t drifted apart. We’d been torn apart by my idiocy, her stubbornness and the death of my father that Christmas. But she’s come back as the person I never thought she would be. She checks her watch constantly as if she’s on her lunch break, can't sit still and enjoy the company without shifting restlessly, and she sits like she’s got a plank tied to her back.
Jade and Steve are the first ones to leave, needing to get Phillipa home to bed. Then Bradley and Jonas head out for drinks with Jonas’ squeeze in tow. They don’t bother to invite me, they know I won’t go. But they don’t invite Jenna either. Maybe because it’s her party and she should stay or maybe they too have noticed the stranger that has returned to Folquay.
The red
velvet is delicious, and I’m on my third slice when Jenna turns to me.
“It’s cream cheese,” She says, her voice clipped and void of all emotion.
I hate cream cheese. She knows I don’t like it. Clearly I just thought I didn’t like it, because I’ve devoured two and a half helpings.
“I hate cream cheese.”
“Apparently not.” She looks down at my plate.
“I’m not the only one who left.” I bite back, and excuse myself from the table.
The truth is we both left. She returned to London the day after Boxing Day, refusing to come out with us, or even tell anyone but her mum that she was going back so soon. Mindy hasn’t really spoken to me since. And I didn’t go back to London, because the night Jenna left my father died in a car accident driving on the icy narrow roads on the way back from the site. The site I now own. I never returned to university to finish my business management degree, and I never called Jenna to tell her about my dad, or to apologise for what I said. It seems that she is indeed the city girl I never thought she wanted to be. And I’m the country bumpkin I accused her of being destined to become.
I sit on the wall at the end of the path that leads to Jenna’s house and decide what to do next. I can't leave, knowing I’ll be the bad guy if I ditch her again. But how can I stay when she’s made it perfectly clear she isn’t interested in a conversation that doesn’t involve mocking my dislike of dairy products, or that I went off the rails a bit when my dad died?
“Hey.” She says, joining me on the wall and making me jump. She’s wrapped in what looks like an entire sheep dyed black, “I didn’t know you would be coming. I didn’t even know I was until last night.”
“Was I supposed to not come?” I don’t know if she was apologising for being rude, or excusing herself because I shouldn’t be here.
“I don’t know, Deacon. I didn’t know you were here. There is no should or shouldn’t, it just caught me off guard.”
“I didn’t know you would be here either. You haven’t been back in years, and there was no reason to think any differently.”
“Then I guess it’s just a misunderstanding,” She shrugs, as if she doesn’t care, but the expression on her face tells me otherwise.
“The cake was good.” I say after a silence and I can't believe that’s all I have to say.
“Thanks. The cream cheese was my partner’s idea. I’d never heard of it before.”
Partner? She must mean business partner, right? I’m about to reply, when a bright red Fiat 500 pulls up outside the house. I know instantly that that car has just made the journey from London. A tall, gangly man in a suit steps out and I wonder how he got in that car in the first place. He makes a beeline for the house, like he’s been here before.
“Hey, baby.” He says, kissing Jenna on the forehead. Not the affectionate greeting you’d expect.
“Hey.” What, no baby or sweet cheeks? “Kip this is Deacon. He’s my mum’s best friend’s son. Deacon, this is Kip.”
I would normally laugh in the face of someone with a name like Kip, but the fact that Jenna had just referred to me as her mum’s friend’s son has frozen me to the core. We were friends once; she could have just said that. Why make that point of disregarding me? We were just having a conversation.
“Nice to meet you, mate.” I put my hand out, and he takes it. What a weak hand.
He just nods at me and turns to Jenna.
“Your rents inside?” Rents?! He walks her up the path back to the house “Why are you wearing that thing? I just bought you a coat.”
She shrugs off the sheep, and takes one long look back at me before she goes inside, leaving the door open. She left the door open. She wants me to go back in. Or she assumes I’m going back in. Or she wants me to go in to continue this mind fuck she’s just sent me on. Jenna Rivera is back in Folquay and I’m first in line for the rollercoaster.
I race up that path, desperate to figure her and this Kip bloke out.
Everyone is gathered in the lounge, talking about Jenna’s cake shops.
“The displays look beautiful,” My mum coos over a picture on Jenna’s phone. Mum never got to have a daughter, but always treated Jenna like her own. She’s going to love having Jenna back in town.
“Yeah, you wanted to have a couple more opened up by now though didn’t you?” Kip pipes up, “But we just haven’t reached that target yet.”
What?
“Well, things change.” She tries to defend herself, but I see the hurt in her eyes. I look at Esteban and Mindy, who looks as in shock as I feel about how he just deflated her, “I’d rather concentrate on two, than struggle with four.”
There’s my Jenna. Feisty and strong. She stands up from Kip’s lap and walks to the fireplace to get her drink and I get my first proper look at her. My god. The little girl I once knew is gone, and has been replaced by this goddess of a woman. Her long tanned legs seem to go on forever, before morphing into perfect hips and a tiny waist. She’s let her hair down from that ball and it falls past her shoulders in soft waves. The waves that remind me of the beach – that night on the beach. I don’t understand why she dyed it blonde. It doesn’t suit her. She used to have dark hair and the richest brown eyes that made her olive skin look tanned and healthy. The blonde washes her out; she wouldn’t stand out from any other woman in the crowd. Unless it was me looking, I’ve only ever seen Jenna, and the last five years have consisted of me trying to find her replacement. That is never going to happen now that I’ve seen those curves.
“Deacon?”
Someone’s calling me, and I’ve been staring at Jenna’s backside for longer than socially acceptable.
“Yeah?” I respond, trying to play it cool and looking around to see who wants to tear my attention away from Jenna.
Oh, Kip.
“I hear you got a degree in business management? That’s impressive.”
Who told him that? Fuck. Unman me some more, please God.
“Actually. You’ve been misinformed, Pip.” I’ve been trying to get that one in there since I heard his stupid name, “I dropped out of uni to take over my father’s company. Property development. An annual revenue of roughly £1.5 million.”
His mouth hangs open. I bet he was expecting me to have a degree in business, but work in the greengrocers. That should shut him up. Jenna looks shocked too; I thought she knew I took over.
“What do you do?”
He hesitates, before he answers.
“I’m a junior stockbroker.” He tries to make it sound cool, but the wine, beer and whiskey have gone to my head.
“You mean you’re the arsehole who cold calls people all day? I think that’s called a glorified telesales man, mate.”
The room falls silent, and maybe they were expecting me to welcome him with a little more charm. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it. I look over to Jenna; I can't keep my eyes off her. There’s a ghost of a smile on her lips and I know she’s amused by my outburst. We always used to take the piss out of salesmen. And marketers. Or anyone else who spent their days calling people, begging to provide them with a service.
“Haven’t you got to be at the site early tomorrow, Deac? You can't drive home after so many beers. Stay with us.” Mum says, and I know it’s a good idea to leave now, before I say anything else.
“You don't live with Emma, Deacon?” Jenna asks, still rooted to the spot by the fireplace. Clearly she’s discovered more about me tonight, as I have her.
“No. I moved out. Happy birthday, Jen.” I give her the gift I’ve had in my house since she disappeared. It’s not something I bought, she was never materialistic. It was something I thought she’d love, something from our childhood. But I’m not sure this new Jenna will appreciate anything that isn’t city-suitable.
Chapter 2
Jenna
I didn’t expect to see Deacon last night. It’s no secret that we’ve been avoiding each other, so when Mum mentioned he lived in town I half expected him to go
away for the weekend. Because that’s how long I’m here for.
When I get downstairs, my mum is in the kitchen, her favourite room in the house as it is mine, making breakfast.
“Mmm, smells good,” I inhale the sweet smell of pancakes, “I was going to make some breakfast muffins, but you’ve beaten me to it.”
“I was up early, so I thought I’d do it,” She hands me a cup of coffee as I sit in one of the chairs at the little table in the corner, “It was nice to see Deacon last night.”
“Was that your plan, Mum?” I pour some sweetener out, watching each grain disappear, “To reunite us? We’re not best friends anymore.”
“I know that, baby. But you’ve both changed so much. Emma and I thought it was time you saw each other again.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make. I’m with Kip, and I don’t think he’ll appreciate people playing games.”
“Oh, Jen –“
She is interrupted as Kip comes into the kitchen, fully dressed in his suit and ready for work.
“You came all the way here, to stay the night?” My mum questions him, grabbing a cup for coffee.
“No coffee, thank you. I only drink organic. And something has come up at work, Mrs. Rivera, I am sorry.”
“Organic.” Mum snorts, and I can't help but laugh. She places a plate of pancakes on the table for me, covered in maple syrup and bacon. Just how I like it.
“Jenna, baby.”
Not in my mum’s house.
“It’s organic milk, Kip. Haven’t you got to rush?”
Second Chance Hero Page 2