Second Chance Hero

by Rebecca Sherwin

I take the long route home, trying to get the smile off my face so I don’t attract any unwanted attention.

  “How was London?” Mum asks as I make us both a cup of tea, and pop some toast in the toaster.

  “It was what I needed,” I say, squeezing the tea bag, “I needed to do it. I know you were mad and I’m sorry, but I just had to go and get it done.”

  “I know, sweetie. I was just worried.”

  I hand her the tea and sit opposite her with my pineapple jam smothered toast. She thanks me and I reach out to take her hand before she picks up her tea cup.

  “Stop worrying. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’m just scared I’ll lose you again...” She stops talking abruptly.

  “Because of Deacon?” She nods, “Just trust when I tell you we’re fine. I’m not running.”

  “But-”

  “Everything is fine. Kip will meet me at the shop today, so we’ll be home about lunch time. Dinner is booked for eight.”

  I stand with my tea and toast and join my dad who is up early, sitting in his usual seat, and looking like his knee is bothering him.

  I left the door unlocked when I came in the shop, and I’m in the back baking some test batches for the fete when the bell rings above the shop door. I feel awful for wishing it isn’t the person who I know it is. I’m still feeling the effects of last night; I’m aching, I’m tired and I’m wearing a high neck jumper to cover up the love bites Deacon left on my neck and shoulder.

  I am the worst person in the world.

  “Hey baby.” Kip beams, making me jump.

  “Hey.”

  I turn around in time to be caged in his arms as he squeezes me tight and kisses the top of my head.

  “I missed you.” He whispers, lowering his head to seek out my lips.

  “Mm hmm.” Is all I manage to say, because I’m already lying enough.

  His lips touch mine before I realise it’s coming and I shudder. I knew this was going to happen; but I have no idea what to do. There was no way to plan for this. He kisses me softly and gently, and I think I might be safe; we’ve never been together anywhere but the bedroom. But his kiss turns hungry, devouring my lips, erasing the touch that I wish could be engraved there after last night. Kip’s hands squeeze my hips, as his teeth graze my bottom lip, and he works his way across my cheek and down to my jawline. I panic; there will be no denying anything and my heart stops when I feel his fingers brush my skin as he takes the material of my top between his fingers. Shit.

  I grab Kip’s face, turn around so his back is against the counter and, avoiding eye contact, tiptoe up and kiss his neck. His hands are under the hem of my t-shirt, his breathing loud and warm in my ear and I don't know how I’m supposed to stop this. I’ve just taken the lead down a path that leads to somewhere I don't want to go. I can't.

  The bell above the door chimes and I jump back and rush out to the front, ready to throw myself at whoever has come in, in gratitude.

  “Can I help you?” I ask.

  Forget the hug, I have no idea who the woman in my shop is, but she’s small, about my height, brunette and has huge green eyes.

  “Hi, I’m Elizabeth.” She reaches out to take my hand and I shake it, noticing how smooth her skin is, “I’m Hilary’s niece.”

  Hilary?

  “Ms. Peyton.” She answers my unspoken question.

  “Oh, nice to meet you.”

  She wipes her hand down her jeans as if I’m dirty, and I remember Ms. Peyton did the same thing when we shook hands. Now I know who she is, I can see the resemblance. Both have mousy features; small noses and little pouty lips.

  “She asked me to bring you these.” She hands me a handful of fliers and an A3 poster for the fete.

  “Thank you.” I say, thinking she’ll leave, but she has a determined look in her eyes and it gets my guard up.

  “She mentioned you’re running the cake stall.” She says, craning her neck to look at Kip who’s leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, “Do you have all your equipment here? I heard you moved here from London?”

  “I did,” I answer, “but I grew up here. I’ve got enough to equipment to sort the fete out.”

  “Great!” She shrieks, “Can I place a personal order?”

  “Uh, sure. What would you like?”

  I’m wondering why she’s so excited, and notice Kip frowning as I make my way behind the counter to grab a pen and piece of paper. Elizabeth sits at a table, so apparently we’re going to sit down.

  “I need some cakes made for my boyfriend.”

  Okay, so she doesn’t have a weird look on her face because she’s checking out Kip.

  “Okay, what did you have in mind?”

  “Well, I was in his office last night, and he mentioned something about lemon cakes.”

  My heart stops. I know why she looked familiar when I first laid eyes on her. Yes, she looks like the town butt-in, but she’s petite with dark hair. A trait girl.

  “He said they’re his favourite, have been since childhood,” she continues, and I think I might be sick, “so I thought I’d get him some, with a message in icing. It’s our anniversary tomorrow.”

  “Anniversary?” I manage to find my voice in time to lose it again as Kip sits next to me and strokes the back of my neck, twirling the hair that has escaped my ponytail between his fingers.

  “Yeah. Deac and I have been together a year tomorrow. I’m hoping he’ll take me for dinner and I want to surprise him with some cake for dessert.”

  Elizabeth winks at me. I don't think I can take anymore. I feel the nausea churning in my stomach and the lump in my throat won't let me talk. Or breathe.

  The look in her eyes tells me she knows who I am. She was in his office last night; she would have seen the pictures of us that decorated his space. Is that why he had only just got in when I arrived last night? I want to say something bitchy, like how I was with her boyfriend all night last night. But Kip is here, I’m suffocating in my own shame and guilt, and if this is the punishment I get, I should take it gracefully.

  “Lemon. Cakes. Message.” I manage to choke out the words, but can't stop my bottom lip from trembling.

  “Yes, something romantic.” She grabs the paper off me and scribbles something down before handing it back, “Here. I’ll come get them at lunch time tomorrow. I have to go, I’ve got to get to Millie’s Box.”

  Millie’s Box. The underwear shop. She stands and I watch frozen in the spot as she leaves, with one look back at me as I stare into space.

  “She was weird.”

  Kip stands up, failing to notice that I feel like my world has come crashing down around me. I’m glad in this moment that he’s ignorant and self-absorbed. But part of me wishes he’d notice the change in me at the mention of Deacon’s name, so I can tell him everything and watch him make the decision to walk away from me.

  “Where were we?” He comes behind me smoothing my hair back and kissing my ear.

  I let a tear fall knowing he’s completely oblivious and stand up, keeping my back to him.

  “I have to get baking.” I croak, “Why don't you go and see my parents?”

  “You’re not getting rid of me, Jen,” he follows me back to the kitchen, “the baking can wait.”

  Fuck this. The cakes can wait. But not while I have sex with Kip.

  “Fine,” I pull off my apron, throwing it on the counter and grab my bag, “we’ll both go back to mine.”

  He follows me through the shop, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him.

  “Is it a problem?” He asks, “You know, being somewhere other than the bedroom?”

  If only he knew. I pull my arm out of his grasp and open the door, waiting for him to leave first.

  “Can't you see I’m not in the mood?”

  He frowns, his blue eyes hooded as he walks out and waits, barely inches from me as I shut the door and lock up.

  Kip excuses himself to freshen up when we get home and I grab the ball of dough fro
m my mum, kneading it like my life depends on it. I was so sure this morning of the direction I was going to choose. And now I want the world and all their games to fuck off. But some people won't take a hint.

  “Is everything okay, baby?” Mum asks as I pound the dough.

  I shake my head that I am not going to talk about it and she leaves me to punish the bread in peace. I love my mother and her respect for personal space, and understanding the need to punch innocent food to clear one’s head.

  “You’re going to town on that thing.”

  Jonas appears next to me, takes the dough from me and puts in the bowl waiting for it.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Sorry?” He turns me to face him, “What happened? Did he hurt you?”

  “No.” I push him back, “What if nobody hurt me? What if I played a game and got played myself? What if I can't handle karma?”

  He doesn’t know what to say.

  “Just leave me alone.”

  I leave my brother standing in the kitchen and run up to my room, desperate to block the world out. Everything is out of my control and I can't handle it.

  And then I bump into Kip in my bedroom. I forgot he was here. He’s fresh from a shower, the top half of his lean body on show, his lower half covered by my towel. He has never understood why I hate him using my towel, and never listens to me when I tell him not to use it.

  “You used my towel.”

  “Yeah well, you turned me down.”

  “What are you, sixteen?”

  “Coming from the girl with a room covered in shit that should belong to a sixteen year old. Teddy bears and fairy lights, seriously?”

  “Don't. Start.”

  I walk away and stand by the window with my arms crossed looking out at the sea. Dark clouds are rolling in and the waves are angry; fitting my mood. The first plop of rain hits the window and I watch it slide down the glass.

  “I will start, Jen. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “We’re going for dinner with your family tonight,” he says as I thank the heavens when Jade’s car pulls up outside. She jumps out and waves up at my window, “we won't be arguing when we do.”

  “No, we won't.” I agree, “Because I’m going to my sisters so we can both calm down.”

  I turn to see the shocked look on his face. He isn’t used to me running away; I always just agree with what he says, but I’m not being pushed around by him, and I won't take him slating my bedroom. The only memory I have of when my life was easy.

  “It’ll be fine. Chill out here with my parents and I’ll meet you tonight.”

  I kiss his cheek and leave him, still shocked, in the bedroom. I run down the stairs as fast as I can and into Jade’s arms as she opens the door. She holds me close and we step outside.

  “Do Mum and Dad know you’re coming?” I ask, between shallow breaths.

  “No, I just thought I’d pop in.”

  “Great. Can you take me to your place until dinner?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  We pull up Jade’s gravel driveway, twenty minutes after I began recapping everything that’s happened since I went to London.

  “About which part?” I ask, climbing out of the car, “My entire life is a mess.”

  “About the cake girl.”

  “No, I’m not kidding. Where’s Pip?” I ask as we step into the porch and I notice the house is silent.

  “It’s her friend’s birthday. Steve took her to the party so I could have a few hours of peace.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don't sweat it. I’ll make tea.”

  I follow Jade to the kitchen and sit at the counter while she busies herself making tea and putting together a plate of food for lunch. She offers me the plate first but I can't eat; my stomach hasn’t stopped somersaulting yet, and the adrenaline coursing through me won't let me calm down.

  “I can't believe this all had to happen today,” I put my head in my hands, “when I could have gone round there and asked Deac what his game is. Or when I could have told Kip to stick it without worrying about this poxy dinner.”

  “Why can't you go and talk to Deacon?”

  “Because he’ll be at dinner tonight and everything’s going wrong. I feel like it’ll all come to a head.”

  “Have you thought,” Jade asks, biting into a piece of flatbread. I wait an agonising minute before she continues, “about going it solo for a while?”

  “Yes. But what’s the point in that?”

  “It’ll give you some time and space to clear your head.” She continues cautiously, “I can see you're messed up, Jen. I hate to say it, but everyone can see it. Whether it’s your fault or not, it’s messing you up.”

  “How did you get so wise?” I manage a small smile.

  “Inherited it from Grandma. You got Grandpa’s passion. And Jonas? I think he’s just a typical Welshman.”

  ~

  I’ve borrowed a dress from Jade; I didn’t think to take anything in my haste to get out this afternoon. So I’ve acquired a short black, backless halter dress. It’s effective in hiding the hickeys from last night, and I borrowed a choker necklace to cover the one on my neck. I climb out of the back of the car where I’ve been playing ‘I spy’ with Phillipa and walk behind them to Blue Rays. Kip is at the bar with my parents and Jonas and Grace and we join the group. Kip pulls me into him, holding me tight, and it seems he’s forgotten the awkwardness earlier; but he’s thrumming with that annoying energy I noticed over the phone the other day. He’s bouncing from foot to foot and smiling like a goofball. He runs his hands up and down my bare back and I shiver. The scorching rage that was exploding out of me earlier has turned to a burning flame in the pit of my stomach, but I won't let what happened today slip. But I owe it to my parents to show them that my head is on straight and I’m not going off the rails.

  “Are you feeling better?” Kip asks, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

  All I can do is nod, because I can feel Deacon. I turn to face the door and see him walking in with Emma and Brad. And Brad is with Rachel. I thought he’d called it quits when she threw herself at his brother. We went to school together, were in most of the same classes, and the look she’s giving me tells me she knows something I wish she didn’t know.

  “Jen, you look beautiful,” Emma kisses both of my cheeks and then Kip’s.

  Kip has to let go of me when Brad pulls me in for the usual bear hug that takes me off my feet and constricts the flow of air to my lungs.

  “Rach,” I greet when I’m released and she nods her greeting, “I didn’t know you were back together?”

  “We’re not,” Rachel and Bradley say in unison.

  “Who’s this?” Rachel asks, eyeing Kip from the feet up.

  “This is my – This is Kip.”

  They shake hands and air kiss, breaking in to conversation about stock markets. It gives Deacon the opportunity to talk to me, and he approaches slowly from where he was leaning against the bar, watching me.

  “Jenna.” He leans down and kisses both my cheeks, his touch igniting the smouldering inside me, “It’s good to see you.”

  He places his hand on the small of my back, his mouth still near my ear.

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  I step back out of his touch, ignoring how much every nerve in my body is screaming at me to take his hand and run.

  We look at each other in silence, the sound around us disappearing. It’s just us, and I’m mad as hell. While he’s composed as ever, sporting the mark I gave him on his neck with pride. He narrows his eyes, confused by how I’m glaring back at him.

  “Mr. Reid,” Kip bursts the bubble and I watch as he holds his hand out to Deacon.

  Deacon looks at me, and I know he’s contemplating causing a scene, and the rage leaves me for long enough to plead silently with him to be civil. He takes Kip’s hand.

  “Good to see you, Kip.”

 
“I’m going to see my parents in the morning.” Kip says, once we’ve sat down, “Do you want to come see them? I’m leaving early.”

  “I can't. I’ve got that cake order.” I look for Deacon and notice he’s sitting opposite me, his presence alone setting me alight, “Another time.”

  I honestly couldn't care any less about the cakes; it’s tempting to ruin her anniversary present for the man who’s sitting so close to me I can feel his body temperature.

  I decided when I woke up this morning and watched Deacon sleep, that tonight will be my last night as Kip’s girlfriend. I can't stand the thought of being expected to give myself to him, while my body, heart and mind belong to someone else. I feel like I’ve been cheating on Deacon, not the man I’m actually supposed to be able to envision a future with.

  I know he’s trying to make eye contact with me, I can feel it every time he moves; my eyes craving to watch every lift of his wine glass, every movement of his mouth as he talks to our family, and every time his legs reach out to trap mine, I’m desperate to just disappear with him, no matter what he’s done, what I’ve done. But I can't get the image of Elizabeth out of my head; she was so confident she’d wiped out the competition and I’m almost willing to admit defeat.

  I don't know what I choose to eat. I know it’s fish, I know we have two courses and I know I manage to eat something. I manage to avoid anything deeper than small talk, and take Kip’s hand away from my leg to look at the dessert menu. Well, stare unseeing into it. It’s then that my eyes give in and flicker above the menu, connecting with an angry fiery gaze. Deacon is angry with me? Surely he must know that I know. How is it possible to live in a town so small and attract as many game-playing women as he does and not realise that one of them will see his games?

  “What?” I mouth, looking at Kip, who is as usual ignorant to me. As is everyone else, as they discuss what they’re having for pudding.

  “What’s wrong?” He mouths back, and we continue a silent conversation.

  “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “Think about it.”

  I turn back to the menu, noticing Rachel watching us. I glare at her, before the waiter returns to our table and I settle for the first thing I look at on the menu. Black forest gateaux. Perfect.