Second Chances

by Teresa Roman

  “I wish you would’ve said something.” Jacob looked up at me without responding, his eyes blinking every few seconds just like they always did when he felt uneasy about something. “Can you talk to me about how you’re feeling about your father being gone? I know you don’t really like discussing your feelings, but I need to know if you’re okay or not.”

  “I’m okay,” he said, lowering his eyes and staring at his hands folded in his lap. “I mean, I’m sad Daddy is dead, and I do miss him sometimes, but …”

  “But what?” I asked.

  “You’re going to think I’m a bad person.”

  “No, I won’t,” I insisted, reaching for his hand.

  “Sometimes I’m glad he’s gone,” Jacob said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like life is easier when he’s not around.”

  “And you’re ashamed for thinking that way?”

  His expression gave him away. He nodded slowly. “I told you I’m a bad person.”

  “You are not a bad person.” I pulled him into my arms. “You’re a human person and one of the kindest, sweetest ones I’ve ever known.”

  He started crying. His tears soaked into my shirt. “I can’t stop thinking that I’m bad.”

  I dropped my arms from around him, leaned back, and wrapped my hands around his wrists, staring into his tear-filled eyes. “Daddy wasn’t nice all the time. Sometimes he could be downright mean. There’s nothing wrong with not missing someone who’s hurt you.”

  “But sometimes he could be nice too.”

  “And when you remember those times, you miss him, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “And when you think about the times he got angry, you don’t?”

  He nodded again.

  “That’s perfectly normal, Jakey. It doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

  I thought back to when my dad had left. I was so young that I didn’t have many memories of him, so I didn’t really miss him. I missed the idea of a father but not the actual person who had been my dad.

  I smoothed Jacob’s hair to the side. It was getting so long that it almost reached his eyes. I needed to find the time to take him for a haircut. “You’re not bad,” I told him again. “As a matter of fact, you’re one of the nicest boys I’ve ever met.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re my mom.”

  “Nope. I’d say it no matter whose son you were.” I managed to get a hint of a smile out of Jacob. “So you’re sure you’re okay missing this father-son thing?” I asked.

  “Yeah. It’s not actually that much fun. I don’t really like dodgeball. And they turn up the music so loud that it gives me a headache.”

  It was a relief to know that he wasn’t interested in going, and I was glad that Jacob and I had this talk and that he’d trusted me enough to let me know what was going on in his head. “You know I love you, right?”

  He nodded and reached for his tablet. I took it from him. “How about instead of YouTube we find a movie we can all watch together?” I didn’t like how much time he spent alone in his room.

  “Do I get to pick the movie?”

  I nodded.

  “Will you make some popcorn?”

  “What are you, some kind of expert negotiator?”

  “What does that mean?”

  I smiled. “Nothing. Of course I’ll make us some popcorn.” I stood then pulled him to his feet.

  Lydia was on the couch, watching TV. She wasn’t happy about her show being interrupted, nor was she thrilled with her brother’s choice of movie. She was still deep into her princess phase and wanted to watch Frozen for the thousandth time, but I explained that I’d promised Jacob he could pick the movie. “You get to choose next time.”

  At bedtime, as I tucked the kids in, Jacob insisted once more that he was okay, but I couldn’t help but worry. I struggled with guilt on an almost-daily basis, but I was an adult. I could handle it. I wasn’t so sure that a nine-year-old could. I thought of Marla’s offer to give me the name of the therapist she’d taken her kids to after her divorce and considered calling her to ask for his number. I just wasn’t sure how comfortable my kids would be talking to a stranger about their feelings.

  People said that once you got past the baby phase, parenthood got easier. I didn’t agree. When my kids were babies, parenting was definitely less complicated. They had fairly basic needs: food, baths, diaper changes. Things got more difficult when one of them got sick or their teeth started coming in, but back then, parenting had been pretty straightforward. The older my kids got, the trickier things got. Just sticking a milk-filled breast into their mouth to soothe them was no longer an option. Sometimes it was so difficult to know what to do. No matter how much I loved it, being a mother was a lot harder than I’d ever imagined.

  By Monday morning, I still hadn’t stopped worrying about Jacob. I found myself thinking about him while I warmed up on the elliptical machine, hoping that he’d meant it when he’d told me he really didn’t want to go to the father-son event and that he hadn’t just said what he thought I’d wanted to hear.

  “You’re really quiet today,” Alex said as we headed to the weight room. “Is everything all right?”

  The words came out before I could stop myself. I didn’t want to dump my parenting worries on Alex, but I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes, I just needed to talk about the jumbled-up mess of thoughts running around in my head. “I’m just worried about Jacob.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  I started by telling Alex about the father-son-event flyer I’d fished out of Jacob’s backpack.

  He interrupted before I finished. “Maybe I could take him. I know we haven’t met yet, but—”

  “You’re sweet to offer,” I said, surprised but not really sure why I was. That was Alex’s way. He’d always had a generous personality. “But it’s not necessary. Jacob doesn’t really want to go. Apparently, he never did, but he was too scared to tell his father.”

  “Oh?”

  “Ryan could be emotionally manipulative at times. He wasn’t the type of person you said no to. Not without consequences.”

  I could picture his response to Jacob telling him he didn’t want to go to the father-son event. He’d probably say, “You just don’t want to go because you don’t love your father.” Or something equally hurtful. And Jacob liked to avoid conflict at all costs.

  “No offense, but Ryan sounds like a jerk.”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes he was.”

  “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” Alex said, “but I gotta ask. If things between you and Ryan were as bad as you make them sound, why were you still together? Why didn’t you tell him you wanted a divorce?”

  It was a question I’d asked myself a thousand times. Why didn’t I just leave? For the past few years, I’d been downright miserable, and with each fight, things between us just got worse and worse. Half the time I could barely stand to be in the same room with Ryan. “We had two kids together. I’ve seen the way divorce upends children’s lives. I didn’t want to do that to them,” I said, leaving out the part about being downright petrified. Not just of how Ryan would react, but of such a drastic life change. I hated the idea of only having my kids half the time. “And a part of me still kind of hoped that things would get better.”

  I wasn’t really sure why. For years, I’d been trying to convince Ryan to go to marriage counseling, but he’d adamantly refused. Marla once told me I should threaten to leave him if he didn’t agree to go, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Not only was I scared of how he’d respond to an ultimatum like that, but no matter how many things Ryan said or did to hurt me, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him back, at least not purposefully. I endlessly fooled myself into thinking Ryan could change. After an especially big fight, he’d cool down. Sometimes he’d even apologize. He’d start helping out more and be kinder. Until something set him off again. It was a terrible way to live, but I was determined to endure. When the kids were babi
es, Ryan was tender with them, but as they got older, he started taking his anger out on them. That’s when I began to question how much more I could take. Ryan pushed and pushed and pushed. Before he died, I’d been teetering on the edge, but I hadn’t quite fallen off.

  “I’m glad I never met the guy,” Alex muttered. “Because I think if I had, I’d have punched him in his face.”

  “And why is that?”

  His jaw twitched. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

  His concern touched me. I hadn’t even told him the half of it, but I understood his feelings. That was my exact thought when Alex had told me about his cheating ex-wife. I wanted to throttle her for hurting him.

  I smiled and shook my head. “You haven’t changed at all. You’re still such a sweet guy.”

  “I mean it.” He turned his head and stared at me, his blue eyes suddenly stormy. “If you were my wife, I’d make a point of showing you how special you are. Every. Single. Day.”

  My toes practically curled. It wasn’t just his words but the look on his face. Maybe I wasn’t the only one of us fantasizing that we were more than friends. Just for a moment, I imagined what it would be like to be married to him. I wondered how his lips felt, and his touch. I pictured myself wrapped in his strong but gentle arms before bed each night. It seemed so peaceful and the total opposite of how things had been with Ryan. I’d been a different person when Ryan and I first met. Back then I’d been drawn to the drama. Ryan’s jealousy meant he loved me. His mood swings meant he was sensitive and broody. Somewhere along the way, I’d changed. Maybe it was because of the kids, or maybe I’d just grown up. Maybe that was one of the reasons Ryan had been so angry with me all the time. I’d changed, and he didn’t like the new me.

  I tried to push those thoughts out of my head. It didn’t make sense for me to obsess over the past. Just like it didn’t make sense for me to imagine myself with Alex. When he was ready to date, it wouldn’t be with a mother of two, it would be with someone young and sexy who could go out to dinner with him on a moment’s notice instead of with someone who had to line up a babysitter. And even if he were interested, dating him would put our friendship at risk, which I didn’t want to do. It was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time.

  13

  As the weeks marched on and the weather started to warm, I began to wonder what I’d do in the summer when the kids were out of school. Their last day was in a few more weeks, and while I loved the idea of sleeping later in the morning, finding a way to keep them busy so I could get work done was a challenge I faced every summer. Normally, they went to camp for a few weeks, but this year I wouldn’t be able to afford that. Despite Ryan’s life insurance payout, I had to be careful how I spent my money. If I didn’t budget wisely, I’d run out.

  I also wondered what I’d do about Alex and our morning workouts. I did not want to give them up. Being around Alex was almost intoxicating. Every time he helped me with my posture or put his hands on me to help me with an exercise, I felt a jolt of electricity run through me at the contact. And lately, I’d begun to wonder if he felt it too. Sometimes he’d get this far-off look in his eyes like he was fantasizing about me the way I fantasized about him. And sometimes he looked like he was drinking me in with his gaze. It was enough to set my insides on fire.

  I could bring the kids to the gym with me and drop them off at the Kids Club, but once they saw Alex and me together, they’d start asking questions. I didn’t have anything to hide, but the kids would be curious about why I was spending so much time with a guy.

  I wondered if Alex would think it was strange, me making a big deal out of him meeting my children even though we were just friends. But we spent enough time around each other that introducing him to my kids seemed like the logical thing to do.

  “I know this is going to sound weird,” I said, finally working up the courage to bring it up while we jogged beside each other on treadmills. “But how would you feel about coming over for dinner this Friday evening?”

  He stumbled, and for a moment I thought he was going to fall off his machine. I could feel my face heat. Did he think I’d just asked him out on a date, and was he wondering how to let me down gently? That would be beyond embarrassing. And it would mean I’d been reading his signals all wrong. “To your house?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “The kids will be out of school soon, and if you still want to work out in the mornings, I’ll have to bring them to the Kids Club,” I quickly explained. “They’re bound to see us talking and want to know who you are. That’s kids for you. They’re curious about everything.” I was totally babbling, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. “I know you’re not really used to kids—you might not even like them—but mine are really sweet. I swear. By the end of summer they might even start calling you Uncle Alex, but only if you’re okay with it.”

  “With you as their mother, of course they are.”

  My face heated again. “So that means you’re okay with meeting them?”

  “I’d love to.” He slowed his pace and glanced at me. “And just so you know, I happen to really like children.”

  I had no idea why, but hearing him say that was a huge relief. Maybe because, in my Alex fantasies, he loved my kids and they loved him right back. I was such a sappy idiot.

  “I don’t get off work until seven thirty though, so I probably won’t be able to make it to your place until around eight. Is that too late?”

  “No, that’s fine.” I’d give my kids a snack after school, and that would tide them over until he arrived.

  Alex didn’t have much to say after that. Which was unusual. We normally found loads to talk about. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but at the same time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to stir things up. Maybe it was better to leave some things unsaid.

  As the silence continued, I thought about telling Alex to forget about my awkward dinner invitation. I could put our morning workouts on pause until summer break was over. It would give me enough time to get my head straight. I’d meant it when I told Marla I had no intention of dating again. Ten years of marriage to Ryan had been painful enough. I didn’t want to go through the hurt of another failed relationship.

  Yet as Alex walked me to my car after we were done working out, I couldn’t bring myself to say any of those things. Instead, I asked, “Is everything all right? You seem awfully quiet today.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you, but I’m scared when I do, it’ll screw up our friendship, and I really don’t want that.”

  My heart sank. No matter what it was, I had to know what he was thinking. “Just say it.” We’d reached my car, and needing to do something with my hands, I dug in my purse for my keys.

  “I like you, Vanessa. Not just as friends either.” I lifted my head to look at Alex while he spoke. “I’ve liked you since high school, really. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.”

  My eyes widened, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. I was too focused on the sparks going off inside me, like a Fourth of July fireworks display. For weeks, I’d noticed the way his eyes lingered over me, but I was sure it would never amount to anything. I didn’t think Alex would actually say anything about the unspoken attraction we had for each other.

  “Can you please say something?”

  “I … I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Well then you’re definitely not going to expect this, but since I’m already on a roll, I might as well just get it over with.” Alex took a deep breath. “I want to meet your kids, but I don’t want to be Uncle Alex. I want to be your boyfriend, and I want them to know that’s what I am. Maybe not this Friday when I come over for the first time, that is if you still want me to. I mean somewhere down the road.”

  I stared at him, speechless again. This was not supposed to be happening. A thousand times I’d told myself I didn’t want it to, but I’d been lying to myself. Still, I was content with my fantasies. Those were safe. The real thing was frightening. I qui
ckly replayed the past few weeks in my head like a slideshow. Those times he touched my back or arms I half-assumed he was spotting me, but a part of me knew better, and I’d done nothing to discourage him. I’d told myself he wouldn’t be attracted to a middle-aged widow with two kids and the less-than-perfect body that came with pregnancy and childbearing.

  I wanted what he wanted, but I was too afraid to admit it. “What if I said no? Does that mean we can’t be friends anymore?” The thought of not seeing him anymore made me feel ill, but so did the idea of getting hurt again. I’d never felt so conflicted.

  He looked wounded. “No, of course not.”

  I shook my head and put my hands to my temples. “I’m no good at relationships, Alex. And I like the way things are now.” God, what was I doing?

  Alex stared at me for a moment, his eyes stormy. Then without another word, he turned around and walked away. I wanted to run after him and apologize. What was wrong with me? I wanted him. Why couldn’t I just tell him that and give him a chance? Alex wasn’t Ryan. With Ryan, I’d tumbled into a relationship before really getting to know him then an engagement and a marriage in about the same amount of time Alex and I had been working out together. Eighteen years might’ve passed, but Alex and I weren’t strangers the way Ryan and I had been when we’d first met.

  “Alex,” I called out his name, half-expecting that he’d ignore me and keep walking. I’d just rejected him after all. Instead, he turned around and walked back over to me. He stared at me, his jaw hard and his eyes steel. I wanted to be his so badly.

  “Listen. Just so you know, I’m not the kind of guy who can’t take no for an answer,” he said. The way he was looking at me made it feel like he could see through me, into my soul. “But this time is different. I just can’t walk away. Not until I get you to see that we’d be great together.”