Second Chances

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Second Chances Page 20

by Abbie Williams


  Finally Ruthie calmed down and whispered, “But Daddy loves you, Mom.”

  I said against her hair, “He might think he does, honey, but he really loves the memory of us. He loves what we used to have. We were really happy here, a long time ago. He misses that. But our lives are so different now.”

  “But why?” she asked plaintively.

  I smoothed strands of hair from her golden-green eyes that were still wet with the aftermath of tears. She looked so vulnerable as she questioned me, and I gulped a little, but finally said, “Because we changed, honey. Sometimes people do that. In fact, it’s good for people to change sometimes. But I want you to know that whatever I feel for Blythe in no way changes what I feel for you girls. I will always love you girls with all my heart and nothing could change that. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, barely audible. I squeezed her close for another moment. She said, “I’m sorry about Gran, Mom.”

  A few tears slid over my face at that and I wiped them roughly on my right shoulder. I said, “I know. And I’m sorry that I can’t make things work with Dad. Will you forgive me?”

  She nodded against me and for that moment it was all I needed.

  Jackie stopped out later that day and asked if the girls and Clint wanted to go into Bemidji with him for dinner. It was kind of him to realize they needed distraction. To his credit, he didn’t mention any of what he’d brought up at my birthday as we’d danced. He hugged everyone, including me, and told us how sorry he was and that he’d have the kids back before late evening. I watched them drive away in Jackson’s familiar car and then rejoined Mom, Jilly and Ellen as they chose pictures to showcase the important moments of Gran’s life. I knew I would have to talk with Jackie eventually, sooner than later certainly, since he was heading back to Chicago. But I was relieved not to have to face that particular conversation tonight.

  The four of us worked through dinner, eating from the various casseroles lined up in the fridge, making sandwiches later when we were hungry again. Finally Ellen made a big blender full of grasshoppers to congratulate our hard work; by 9:00 we’d filled five large poster boards with artfully-arranged pictures. They were roughly chronological and Mom and Ellen lined them up across the tops of the booths for safe-keeping.

  “We’ll have to get a couple of easels,” Mom mused.

  “And flowers. She’d want that,” Ellen added.

  “Who’s coming?” Jilly asked, coming up behind Ellen and hooking her arm around Ellen’s waist. Ellen patted Jilly’s arms with affection.

  “I would expect anyone who wants to pay their last respects,” Mom said. “But just us for the…”

  She had choked up and I went immediately to her side, Jilly the other. We put our arms around her and she was able to finish, saying, “The scattering of her ashes.”

  Ellen joined our hug and whispered, “I just can’t believe Ma’s gone. It doesn’t seem possible. She hadn’t left this place in almost all of her adult life.”

  “I’d get so cranky with her,” Mom said, punishing herself. “But she only ever meant well. She gave us so much.”

  “Aw, Joanie, there wasn’t much Ma loved more than a good argument,” Ellen said.

  Mom sniffed agreement and then said, “I know. Thank God for Dodge.”

  Jilly eased free and nodded outside, saying, “Kids are back.”

  My sister went out on the porch, clicking on the light as she did. I folded my arms and didn’t budge, and Mom observed, “I saw you and Jackson dancing Saturday night, Jo.”

  “He told me he still loved me and that he wants us to come home with him,” I said quietly, seeing both my own defensive reflection in the window and the kids piling out of the car and hugging their dad good-night.

  “Oh, Joelle,” Mom said. But then she lifted her hands, palms up, and backed off. Her eyes clearly told me what she thought, but I didn’t let her upset me again.

  I saw Jackie coming up the steps in the wake of the kids, who were carrying leftover boxes from a seafood restaurant.

  Dammit.

  I clacked out the screen door, telepathically (I hoped, anyway) ordering Jilly to remain on the porch with us. The girls and Clint headed into the warm glow of the café, where Mom was already pulling a dishtowel from a pan of brownies. Jackie hesitated with one foot on the top step, his hands gripping the rails on either side of the steps. In the semi-darkness he looked young and lean, his cheekbones sharply defined, like the Jackson of my youth. He kept his eyes steady on mine.

  “Thanks for taking the kids,” I told him.

  “Of course,” he said and shifted his gaze to include Jillian. “I’m so sorry, you guys. Jo, I’m staying through Wednesday.”

  I nodded.

  “Have you been thinking about…everything?” he asked then.

  “Jackie, I’m staying here,” I told him quietly.

  He drew in a breath through his nose and said, “Don’t do this, Jo.”

  “It’s done,” I said, not without sympathy. Beside me, Jilly moved one hand and touched my back gently.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” he said, but he backed up and turned away. At the last moment, just as he reached his car, he looked up at me and added, “I love you. And I’m not giving up.”

  “Oh good Lord,” Jilly said as he drove away. For a moment we stood in silence.

  “I’ll be on the dock,” I said finally.

  The day’s rain had passed over Landon and the sky was satin-clear, the air brisk. I wrapped myself in an old cardigan and was sitting there in a sort of emotional stupor, thinking about my last conversation with Gran when my cell phone buzzed. I jumped a little, hoping beyond hope that it might be Rich, with news of Blythe. And then I saw who was calling and fire ricocheted through my blood along with disbelief, sent my heart on a collision course with my breastbone. I almost couldn’t breathe as I opened the front cover to answer.

  “Joelle, it’s me, sweetheart,” he said, his deep voice filling up all the emptiness in my heart and soul, my senses absorbing the sound like the precious gift it was. He rushed on, “I’m out, love, I’m here at Mom’s. Rich told me everything. I’m dying to get to you.”

  “Blythe,” I whimpered, cradling the phone, his voice, as close to me as possible. I started weeping, unable to help myself. Everything within me reached out for him, longing and need and desire and love. Oh, how I loved him. My heart was throbbing the force of it through me.

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I’m not there,” he kept saying, his voice tortured. “Oh Joelle, honey.”

  I drew in a shaking breath and then spoke in a ragged torrent of words. “Blythe, oh God, I’m so glad to hear your voice. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been so worried about you. Are you all right, baby? Rich said you looked rough the last time he’d seen you. I should be there, I want to be there so much…but Gran…”

  “Honey, Rich told me. I’m so sorry. I’m coming tomorrow. Rich and me are flying up there. But I’m going crazy here. Mom keeps telling me I can’t just jump in my truck and go. I love you, my sweet girl. God, I love you. I have all of your letters right here. They’re all ragged from me reading them so many times.”

  I laughed a little then, so unbelievably happy to have his voice in my ear, the prospect of him being here tomorrow. It was almost too much to bear. I said, “I have all of yours too and I kept them next to my heart every day. Oh Blythe, you couldn’t call me. And Rich told me he and your mom couldn’t touch you when they came to see you. I plan to never stop touching you, just you wait.”

  His voice was silky with desire as said, “Baby, I will take you up on that. I’m a little starved for touching right now.”

  “I’ll make up for all of the last month,” I promised. “Did you get out early? I thought tomorrow morning…”

  “They released me 12 hours early. I’m lucky they allowed it. And Dale said if I have a job in Minnesota the state should allow the move.”

  “Oh thank God,” I breathed.
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  “And happy birthday, my sweet girl. I’m so sorry I missed it.” His voice grew even more tender as he asked, “What happened with Gran? I can’t believe it, Jo. I can’t imagine her being gone. She was the one who hired me up there, who decided I was a decent person just by looking into my eyes. I’ll never forget that.”

  “She died in her sleep,” I said softly. “It was peaceful. But I’ll miss her forever.”

  “Sweetheart,” he breathed. “I know you will.”

  “She told me something so important on Saturday. Jilly and I had our birthday party that day, and Bly…” I trailed off for a moment, wondering if this was the time and place to tell him everything. But I refused to hang up and part from his voice before morning light, at the earliest. I wrapped the cardigan more tightly around my shoulders and moved from the dock boards onto the glider.

  “What is it, honey?” he asked. And as though reading my thoughts, he added, “I’m not letting you go tonight. You’re going to keep the phone open on your pillow so I can hear you breathing even after you’ve gone to sleep.”

  As always, his words touched the core of my entire being. He felt and said just what I needed to hear. I told him, my voice soft and almost shy, “You’re so amazing. You always say things like that and I feel so special. So safe in your love, so wrapped in it. So important to you.”

  His voice was husky as he replied, “You are important to me, baby. The most important part of my life. And I mean to show you that every day. All the nights this last month I spent lying in that cell and imagining that you were beside me and I could feel your heart beating and hear your soft breathing. I mean to hear that every night for the rest of my life.”

  My heart caught and lifted up into the sky and tears prickled into my eyes again, spilling down my face. I was choked up as I said, “I’m holding you to that.”

  “Don’t cry, baby, it breaks my heart if I can’t be there to hold you,” he said softly. “Tell me instead about your birthday. Was it a good party?”

  “No, because you weren’t there,” I said, swiping roughly at my tears. “But I’m glad we had it. Gran baked her famous chocolate birthday cake. We haven’t had that since we were teenagers. Jilly and I always used to have a double birthday celebration. But something else happened…something shitty…I mean, at the party. Before everything with Gran.”

  Tears streaked over my cheeks again, but I continued, determined to tell him everything. “I have to back up. Blythe, Jackson has been in town all month. You know he brought divorce papers. But he’s been reconsidering the whole divorce. He’s been spending all this time with the girls. They’ve missed him. They love him, I can’t…I mean, I wouldn’t…change that. I’m glad they do. But they don’t seem to truly understand that it’s over between their dad and me.” I drew a deep breath and then rushed on. “And on my birthday he told me…” suddenly I felt terrible. Why did I think this would be anything Blythe would want to hear? But he deserved my honesty.

  “Told you what?” Bly asked, his voice was so close and rough with emotion that I felt as though if I turned my head I would see him sitting beside me, here in the darkness.

  “That he didn’t want a divorce. That he still loved me.”

  “He did.” Blythe’s voice was flat. Almost despairing.

  “But don’t you see?” I begged into the silence. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t love him.”

  There was still silence, though I could hear Bly as he breathed. I pictured him sitting on the steps of the trailer, the hand not holding the phone braced in his short hair.

  “Blythe!” I begged again. “Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

  He drew in a deep breath and said, “Promise me, Joelle, that if you still feel anything for him that you’ll take that into consideration.”

  My heart was thundering again, in shock. I could sense then that he was terrified, that he thought I would tell him that I wasn’t sure, that I needed time. He was giving me an out and I was appalled that he would even think I might be on the fence. No, no, no. I said, my voice trembling with sincerity, “You know that I don’t. You know that, Blythe. Don’t doubt it for a moment.”

  “I hate him,” he said then, fiercely. “That he would do this to you. After everything he’s done to you.”

  “Blythe, you are everything to me,” I said fervently. “I wish I could go back to July and kick myself bloody for hurting you.”

  “You just did what you thought was right, for the kids,” he said, and I was glad to hear that he sounded more like himself, less like he’d just been fisted hard in the gut. “I knew it then. And I know you love me. I don’t doubt it, baby. But you scared me there.”

  “I just wanted you to know what happened. I don’t want us to have secrets. And I don’t want you two to fight, ever again. That was so horrible.”

  “I know,” he said. “And I’m sorry it happened. I’m not sorry I hit him though.”

  “I know,” I said, repeating his words. “And I would only ever tell you this, but I love that you stood up for me, that you protected me when you thought I’d been hurt.”

  “I would do that and more,” he said with feeling. “Joelle, just wait. I’ll be there tomorrow. And Wednesday is the service, right?”

  “Yes. We put together all these pictures today. There are so many more pictures than I remembered. There were even a few of my grandfather, Aaron Owens. And Gran was so pretty. She looked so happy. I think she was happy, Bly, here all these years running the café. I hope she was. I don’t know what my life would have been like without her.”

  “Sweetheart, she was happy. I only had to be around her for one day to see that. She loved you guys so much. You should have heard her talk about you before you and the girls got to Shore Leave last May. I’d even go so far as to say that you were her favorite.”

  “Nah, but I’d like to think so,” I said, smiling.

  “How are the kids doing? How’s Clinty? I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed everyone. And the lake, the whole place. Sometimes when I was lying there in jail I’d feel like all my time at Shore Leave was just this beautiful dream. Like I’d just imagined all of it.”

  “You most certainly did not,” I told him firmly. “I’d like to think that eventually Jillian and I will be running the café. And you and Justin can help. But we have final say.”

  Blythe snorted and then laughed. “Oh, well, as long as that’s clear. How’s everything between those two?”

  “Good, so good. I’m so glad to see it.”

  “My sweet girl. What else have I missed this month? Tell me about our house.”

  When Jilly found me hours later, I was curled up on the glider, sound asleep but still clutching the phone. Jillian laughed a little, waking me. I blinked, sat up and immediately brought the phone up to my ear. The last thing I remembered was curling up with Blythe’s voice and whispering good-night.

  “Was that your man?” my sister asked, as she sat and then wrapped her arms around my waist, snuggling her chin against my shoulder.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was my man. And Jilly, he’ll be here later today. I’ll see him.” She squeezed me and I put my arms over hers, squeezing back. I asked, “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Mom finally went to bed. I told her that she needed to rest.”

  “Good, she does. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Bly must have fallen asleep too. I wanted to hear him breathe all night,” I sighed, cradling the phone even still.

  “Oh, barf,” Jilly teased me. But I knew she understood.

  “Come on, let’s go to bed too.”

  Bly called me back at first light.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I told him. “I don’t remember falling asleep.”

  “I do,” he said, teasing me a little with his soft, warm, sleepy tone. “You said you were going to lie down for just a minute. Down by the lake, too. You’re probably covered in bites, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll inspect you when I get there.”

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nbsp; “What time?” I murmured. “Hurry. Blythe, hurry to me.”

  “Aw sweetheart, I will. We’ll be there by early afternoon, I hope. We’re leaving for the airport in a half hour.”

  “Give Christy a hug for me,” I told him, rolling to my other side. I’d spent the night on Jilly’s couch again, too tired to drive back over to Broom Street early this morning.

  “I will, love. And I’ll see you so soon.” His voice was almost giddy with excitement.

  Tears filled my eyes at the gift of him, his incredible love.

  “I love you,” I whispered to him and he said softly, “I know.”

  When I walked over to the café a half an hour later, Tish was at the stove scrambling eggs while Ruthie fried bacon. I poured a cup of coffee, marveling at my girls, how they’d changed over the summer months. I realized it was September now and moved to tear August from the calendar hanging on the wall, the same style we’d always had at Shore Leave, a locally-made one featuring images of southern Beltrami county businesses. In fact, we’d been the May image if I remembered right.

  “That smells good,” I told them, sitting at the counter.

  “Morning, Mom,” Tish said, appearing in the server window. “Aunt Jilly said Blythe is coming back today.”

  I felt myself grinning and nodded. “Yeah, he is. I hope that you guys are excited to see him. He’s really missed you.”

  Tish nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, we missed him too.”

  Leave it to her to take things in stride; I appreciated that very much about Tish. I remembered when she’d been born and we’d named her Patricia Joan (after our mothers), I imagined calling her Patty Jo. It was only when tiny Camille began lisping ‘Tisha’ in an attempt to speak her sister’s name that we realized she would never be a Patty Jo. Certainly someone with that nickname would have a much different personality than Tish.

 

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