Second Chances: A Magical Holiday Romance

by T. M. Franklin

  Carter shook his head. Car accidents usually didn’t make the Weekly, simply because by the time the paper went to print they were old news. Still, he couldn’t ignore it. “No need,” he replied. “I have to go that way to head home anyway. I’ll check it out.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. It’s no problem,” Carter assured her. “I’ll talk to the cops and get a few pictures. If it’s a big deal, I’ll call Alex myself.”

  He double-checked his bag to make sure he had a tape recorder and camera handy, then got in his car and headed toward the accident scene. Traffic was blocked off a short distance away. He could make out the flashing police lights, but not much else in the dimming light. Carter parked at the curb and approached the uniformed deputy at the roadblock. Just as he said hello, his cell phone rang.

  Not recognizing the caller’s number, he thumbed at the screen. “Excuse me,” he said to the deputy, before answering the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Carter, it’s Stitch.”

  Carter was surprised to hear his father-in-law’s voice and hesitated briefly before replying, “Hi, Stitch. How are you?”

  “Carter there’s no easy way to say this . . . there’s . . . there’s been an accident.” Stitch’s voice trembled slightly, confusing Carter even more.

  “Yeah . . . I know. I’m down here to cover it for the paper.”

  He heard Stitch clear his throat before continuing. “No. You don’t understand, son. It’s Kenzie.”

  Carter felt Stitch’s words like a punch in the stomach. It’s Kenzie. He couldn’t mean—

  “What?” he asked, the word barely making it past his lips.

  Stitch sniffed and Carter realized the man was crying. “It’s Kenzie, Carter. She’s been hurt.”

  “Oh, God . . . no . . .” Carter murmured, panic beginning to sizzle along his nerve endings. “Is she okay? Where are the kids?” He began to make his way through the road block, ignoring the deputy who called for him to stop. “Stitch, is she okay?” He started to run in the direction of the flashing lights. When he made out the tangled pile of metal that used to be his minivan, an anguished cry tore from his throat.

  “Carter . . . Carter!” He heard Stitch calling to him and pressed the phone to his ear. “The kids are okay, but Kenzie . . .” His voice broke. “I’m with her now at the hospital. You need to get over here, Carter.”

  He turned to run back to his car, but a strong hand gripped his elbow. He turned to see Macon Bridges looking down at him with compassion in his eyes.

  “I was passing by and saw what happened,” he explained. “Let me take you to the hospital, Carter. You shouldn’t be driving.”

  Carter couldn’t reply. He just nodded jerkily and followed Macon to his truck. It was only a few blocks to the hospital and Macon made it in record time. He pulled up in front of the emergency entrance and Carter jumped out before the truck rolled to a stop, racing through the sliding doors. He spotted Stitch immediately, standing next to the reception desk.

  “How is she?” Carter asked frantically.

  Stitch shook his head. “I don’t know. The doctors are with her now.”

  “What about the kids?”

  “They’re fine,” he replied. “I was just in there with them. They’re pretty shaken up, but they’ll be okay. Just some cuts and scrapes. Come on, I’ll take you back.”

  He led Carter through a door into an examining area and Carter breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Brady and Peyton sitting on a couple of chairs sucking on lollipops. Brady had a Band-Aid on his forehead, and Peyton’s right hand was wrapped in gauze, but other than that, they looked uninjured. He rushed over to pull them both in a tight hug.

  “Are you guys okay?” he asked, running his hands over their heads and fighting tears.

  “We had a crash, Daddy,” Brady replied dully.

  Carter pulled back, but kept his arms around his children, unable to release them. “I know, buddy. I’m so sorry that happened.”

  “Where’s Mommy?” Peyton asked in a thin voice.

  Carter swallowed thickly. “The doctors are taking care of her right now. I’m sure we’ll see her soon.”

  “She wouldn’t wake up,” Brady whispered, turning his face away, apparently to spare his sister. “I tried to wake her up, but she wouldn’t wake up.”

  “It’s okay. You did great,” he replied. “I’m so glad you’re both okay.” He hugged his children tightly again.

  “I called your parents,” Stitch said quietly. “They should be here any minute. I can take the kids out to the waiting room so you can see Kenzie.”

  Carter nodded and thanked him, hugging his children once more before Stitch led them out. He stopped by the door to talk to a nurse, who nodded and quickly walked over to Carter.

  “Mr. Reed? I can take you to your wife now.”

  Carter nodded again, too stunned to speak. They were supposed to be having pizza right now. They were supposed to be playing Candy Land. He was supposed to be making a pink gingerbread man for Peyton.

  Instead he walked down a sterile hall smelling of disinfectant, unable to think or to speak.

  All he could do was pray.

  “Don’t take her,” he whispered over and over again under his breath. “Please, don’t take her.”

  “She’s in here,” the nurse said quietly, pity and compassion in her eyes. “You don’t have much time. They’re prepping her for surgery.”

  Carter walked through the doorway to find a group of doctors and nurses surrounding his wife where she lay pale and small on a hospital bed. A smattering of cuts marred her skin along the right side of her face, and he could see similar abrasions on her right arm, above the splint.

  “Kenzie?” Carter croaked, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Everyone except Kenzie, whose eyes remained closed, her chest rising and falling slowly as she breathed.

  “Mr. Reed? I’m Dr. Thomas.” A tall African-American man in scrubs rounded the bed to approach him.

  “How’s Kenzie?” Carter asked.

  The doctor frowned slightly. “She’s got some broken bones—her leg, and a few ribs—but I’m afraid there are some internal injuries as well. We’ll need to operate as soon as possible to deal with that.”

  “Operate?” Carter couldn’t take his eyes from Kenzie’s still frame.

  “I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dr. Thomas continued, “but we really don’t have a lot of time. We need your consent for the surgery, sir.” He held out a clipboard to Carter, who stared at it blankly before taking the offered pen and signing it.

  “Can I talk to her?” he asked.

  “She hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but you can try,” the doctor replied. “We’ll give you a minute, then I’m afraid we’ll have to take her to surgery.” He motioned to the other staff and they all left the room, leaving Carter standing at the foot of the bed, gazing at his wife through unshed tears. Slowly, he approached her left side, taking her uninjured hand in his. He stroked the soft skin, kissing it gently and pressing it to his cheek.

  “Kenzie?” he whispered. “Kenzie, don’t leave me.” He watched her intently. “Please don’t leave me.”

  Kenzie’s eyelids fluttered and her hand twitched in his. He watched in awe as her eyes opened slowly, staring unseeingly before she blinked and looked at him.

  “Carter?”

  Carter smiled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead softly. “Hey, baby.”

  She began to smile, wincing with pain. “I love it when you call me baby.”

  Carter chuckled. “I know.”

  “What happened?”

  “There was an accident. God, Kenzie, I thought I lost you.”

  “Accident?” Kenzie’s eyes grew alarmed. “The kids?”

  “They’re fine,” he assured her. “They can’t wait to see you.”

  Kenzie relaxed against the pillows, closing her eyes in relief. “Thank God.”

  Carter kissed h
er hand again. “I love you so much, Kenzie.”

  “I love you . . .” Kenzie’s voice trailed off as a loud screeching sound burst from one of the machines.

  “Kenzie?”

  She didn’t open her eyes. The doctors and nurses ran back into the room, shoving him out of the way unceremoniously.

  “We can’t wait,” Dr. Thomas said urgently. “We’ve got to take her now!”

  “What’s happening? Kenzie?” Carter watched the frantic movements of the medical staff, panic and fear once again twisting in his stomach.

  “One . . . two . . . three . . .” Dr. Thomas counted before they lifted Kenzie’s body onto a gurney, laying her I.V. bag on her chest. They rolled her out into the hallway.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Reed, we have to go now,” the doctor said as they rushed down the hallway. “I’ll try to update you on her condition as soon as I can.” They pushed Kenzie through a set of double doors and a nurse standing nearby grabbed his arm.

  “Kenzie! I love you!” he called after her, his heart beating rapidly as his breathing seemed to stop. The thought of Kenzie going through those doors and never coming back—the thought of losing her forever—it gripped his chest like a vice. He turned to the nurse standing next to him, unaware that he had tears flowing down his cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, you can’t go in there,” she said sympathetically. “You’ll need to go to the waiting room.” At his blank look, she turned him around, walking him through the door into the waiting area. He blinked unseeingly at his surroundings. Claire and David were playing with the children at a low table nearby. Noah, Lydia, Violet, and Macon spoke in low voices as they sipped bad coffee across the room.

  Stitch sat by the door, stoic and silent, his back rigid, but his throat working constantly as he fought to maintain his control. They all looked up hopefully when he walked into the room.

  “They took her to surgery,” he said flatly, walking over to his children. He pulled them onto his lap and held them close, burying his nose in Peyton’s hair.

  “Daddy?” Brady looked up at him. “Is Mommy going to be okay?”

  Carter stared down at his son for a moment, as the dazed fog over his brain finally lifted.

  Wait.

  Hold on. Just one minute.

  What was he waiting for?

  He set his children gently on the floor before standing up abruptly. “I’ll be right back,” he said, already searching his pockets as he headed for the hallway. He had to find an isolated spot.

  You couldn’t have angels popping up just anywhere.

  He checked a few closed doors and finally found an empty patient’s room. Pulling out the silver bell he rang it violently and waited.

  “Hello, Carter.”

  He spun around to see Henry standing directly behind him.

  “You have to save her,” Carter said without preamble.

  Henry gazed at him somberly. “I’m sorry. That’s beyond my power.”

  “What do you mean?” Carter spat angrily. “You said the bell was for emergencies. This is a damned emergency! Save my wife.”

  “I can’t, Carter.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I can’t,” Henry repeated sadly. “Believe me, if I could do it, I would.”

  Deflated, Carter sat heavily on the bed. “Is she going to die?” he asked, his voice breaking.

  Henry said nothing, but Carter could read the answer in his eyes.

  “When?” he asked. “Today?”

  Henry shook his head. “No, not today—not tomorrow—but soon. I can’t give you an exact time. It’s not up to me.”

  “So all this . . . it was all for nothing? I found Kenzie only to lose her again?”

  “I’m sorry, Carter.”

  “You’re sorry,” he snarled sarcastically. “What kind of an angel are you, anyway?”

  Henry smiled sadly. “I can do something else for you.”

  “What?”

  “I can send you back.”

  “Back?” Carter repeated. “Back where? Back to New York?”

  Henry nodded. “You can go back to that world. I can make you forget all this ever happened. No more pain . . . no sadness. You could have your old life back.”

  Carter stared at him disbelievingly. “What about my children?”

  Henry shrugged lightly. “You won’t remember them. I mean, you don’t even believe they’re real, do you?”

  Did he?

  He thought about teaching Brady to ride a bike, and learning how to hold Peyton’s baby doll correctly. He thought about eating pancakes together and running on the beach.

  He thought about hugs and kisses and baths and nighttime rituals.

  Good night, sweet dreams

  My love is in the moonbeams

  And he thought about Kenzie . . . about living and loving and fighting and making up. He thought about sharing pizza and sharing laughs . . . about making love and building a life together.

  Yes. It was real.

  He believed it with all his heart.

  “You have to decide now, Carter,” Henry said. “I’m sorry, but it has to be now.”

  Carter didn’t even think twice before he said simply, “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Carter stood up and squared his shoulders. “When Kenzie comes out of surgery, she’s going to need me. If she is going to . . .” He cleared his throat and swallowed thickly. “If it’s her time, I don’t want her to be afraid. I want to be with her. The kids . . . the kids will need me to get through this. I have to be there for them.”

  Henry tilted his head, eyeing him carefully. “It’s not going to be easy, Carter.”

  Carter nodded once. “I know that. But I can’t give up on them. They need me and I’m not running away this time.”

  A bright smile broke out across Henry’s face. “Excellent, Carter. Well done.”

  Suddenly the overhead lights began to glow brighter, until the whole room was filled with a dazzling light.

  “What’s happening?” Carter asked. Then, he knew.

  “No!” he exclaimed.

  “You’ve done really well, Carter . . . better than I expected, to be honest,” Henry said proudly, the features of his face growing difficult to distinguish in the increasing light. Carter squinted, holding a hand up in front of him.

  “No!” he said again. “You can’t do this.”

  “Don’t forget what you’ve learned, Carter,” Henry admonished before the light exploded in Carter’s eyes, blinding him momentarily.

  He blinked hard a couple of times, trying to see the door leading out of the room. He had to get back to his family.

  “Kenzie!” he cried out in a loud voice.

  The next moment, he found himself sitting straight up in bed in his New York hotel room, fully dressed.

  “No!” he exclaimed, looking around the room in disbelief. “Henry, you son of a— Damn it, send me back!” he screamed, searching his pockets for the bell. Not finding it, he tore the sheets off the bed, shaking them out before tossing them aside. He dropped to the floor, running his hands frantically under the bed.

  “Send me back, Henry!” he shouted.

  The bell was gone. Henry was gone. His family was gone. Carter collapsed on the bare mattress, breathing heavily. After a moment, the sound of voices from the other room drew his attention. He walked out of the bedroom and into the little sitting area to find the television on, and It’s a Wonderful Life playing yet again.

  “Perfect,” he mumbled, dropping to the floor against the front of the sofa, his head in his hands. “Kenzie,” he moaned. “God, why?”

  The people on the TV screen began to sing Auld Lang Syne as George Bailey held little Zuzu in his arms with a huge smile on his face. A bell rang on the Christmas tree and Zuzu pointed to it gleefully.

  “Look, Daddy,” the little girl said. “Teacher says every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.”

  “Yeah, well Teacher forgot to tell you that angels
suck!” Carter shouted to the ceiling, hoping Henry was listening. He glanced back at the TV, fighting tears as the girl reminded him of his own daughter.

  Mindless of the world around him, Carter curled up on the floor, mourning the life he’d lost.

  Mourning the life he apparently never had.

  Carter wallowed in misery for approximately twenty-three-point-four seconds.

  Then, there was a loud and very insistent knock on the door.

  Carter tried to ignore whoever was at his door, but they would not be thwarted. The knocking continued, getting louder and louder until it became a rather obnoxious pounding.

  “Go away,” he grumbled under his breath where he lay on the floor. He repeated the command a little louder a moment later.

  The knocking continued.

  Finally, with an exasperated moan, Carter pulled himself to his feet, glaring at the credits of It’s a Wonderful Life on the television as he made his way to the door. He whipped it open, staring in surprise at who he found standing there.

  “Tess?”

  “Morning, Carter,” she said with a bright smile as she swept into the room. “Merry Christmas!”

  “What?” He scrubbed his hands over his face, then up through his hair. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to drag you out of bed, of course,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You don’t have much time. Goodness, did you sleep in those clothes?” She leaned toward him, her nose wrinkling. “Yeah. A shower’s definitely in order, but you’ll have to hurry.”

  “What are you talking about? How did you know where to find me? What are you doing here?” Carter repeated, his head still a little fuzzy.

  Tess propped her fists on her hips, choosing to answer the second question first. “Your friend Henry told me where you were staying. I ran into him at the party last night.”

  “Party?”

  “At the Four Seasons . . .” she prodded, “Mackenzie Monroe . . . You running out like a scared little girl . . . Ringing any bells?”

  At the mention of bells, Carter’s eyes narrowed. “You said Henry sent you here?”

  “Yeah,” she said grabbing his arm and steering him toward the bedroom. “I met him at the party and he mentioned he knew you. When I found out about that guy you saw with Kenzie, I knew I had to come find you.”