A Second Chance for Lovin'

by Kaety Porter

  Chapter 12

  Ophelia

  Avoidance. I am officially a master at avoidance. I’ve managed to avoid Tristan since that awesome day at his house. Not for a lack of him trying to talk to me or see me. Thankfully, its winter so there are no Sunday rides; I’ve switched all my shifts at the Habitat house to be the opposite of his.

  I’ve managed to keep myself busy. I researched new places to run, so I can, as you probably guessed, avoid crossing paths with him. Royan’s training has been ramping up and I’ve actually started joining him at the gym. The workouts are intense, with the added bonus of no possibility of running into Tristan.

  Of course, there was no avoiding him at the annual night-time Christmas parade. It is normally one my favorite events every year. How could it not be? Stringing lights on our bikes, making a float for all the wives and kids of the members; Royan always comes to this with me each year, with lights on the wheels of his chair, and of course Santa riding on the back of my bike. It is ordinarily so much fun, but this year between trying to maintain a safe distance from Tristan and making sure I didn’t dump Santa off my bike, there wasn’t really any room for fun.

  In my haste to make a swift exit at the end of the parade, I didn’t pay attention to where Tristan was when it came time to take a picture of everyone who was in the parade with our bikes and the float. All arranged and ready for our close up, the local newspaper photographer took a bunch of shots and then sent us on our merry way. Turning to leave I ran directly into a wall of muscle, only to look up and find myself staring into the depths of the eyes of the man I had been avoiding.

  Taking a step back, I turned to leave when his hand wrapped around my arm and gently tried to pull me back. Coming back under his gaze once again, and found his eyes full of pain, longing and sadness. He swallowed hard and said, “Please Lia, talk to me; let me try to explain.” I just shook my head, and said, “I don’t want to hear it. You promised I wouldn’t regret it!” Gaining a step and looking directly into his eyes I continue, “I don’t regret the sex, I regret opening myself up to you. I know all the hurt I felt the last time was self-inflicted and my fault because of how I handled it. I could have called, left a note, anything except what I did. But, by trying with you again I opened myself up to that hurt again, only this time the only thing I did wrong was trust you.” I turned and mounted my bike, revved it up and drove away without a second glance.

  A few days later one of the pictures that the photographer took appeared on the front page of the paper. Me and my fake smile front and center on my bike with Santa on the back, surrounded by everyone that was there, including Tristan who was standing behind me, in all his handsome glory looking down at me, with a small smile but also with a look of pure sadness on his face.

  Unfortunately the other thing I haven’t been able to avoid is the continuing acts of harassment, which are becoming more bold and aggressive. Last week I spent the better part of two days decorating the outside of the house for Christmas by myself, while Royan playfully mocked and critiqued my light stringing skills from his chair. That is, until I could take no more and dumped a bucket full of snow over his head while he had his back turned to me.

  Two days after the lights were all strung to perfection, I arrived home to find the display completely destroyed and some of the lights arranged to spell out “BITCH”. I was pissed, not because all my hard work was destroyed, but because whoever is doing this, knows where I live and was on my property. After hours of police activity at my house, evidence collected, pictures taken, I was finally able to use my “good” words instead of the less than pleasant ones that I had been using since I arrived at home; of course the incident just gets added to the list of things that have happened. At last check, the released inmate has gone MIA, but I keep being reassured that the County Corrections Department is looking for her.

  Two weeks have past and Christmas has finally arrived and thankfully things have calmed a bit and if that is all Santa brings me for Christmas this year, then that’s fine with me. I haven’t seen Tristan since the parade and I haven’t heard from him. The Christmas lights wrecker has gone radio silent as well.

  Now as I sit on my couch, wrapped in a blanket with the room lit only by the glow of the Christmas tree, while I get lost in a mindless game on my phone, the doorbell rings. Royan is out somewhere, supposedly shopping for a last minute gift for me. It’s Christmas Eve and I bet a $100 that he’s nowhere near a mall or store where he can get me a gift. If I had to guess, I would say he’s receiving a last minute gift from a willing female.

  As I look at the security monitor screen next to the door, I see my friend Chase standing on the stoop with his little boy Luca who is holding a wrapped box with his two little arms. I open the door quickly, shocked to see them standing there, not having seen them since the parade. “Hey Chase, hey Luca. I’m so surprised to see you. Everything ok?” Chase smiles, as does Luca. Honest to goodness Luca is the cutest little boy; Chase and Hollynd are going to have their hands full when he is older and he starts breaking little girls’ hearts all over town. Chase starts, “Yeah, everything is ok. Sorry to drop by without calling, but Luca is on a mission.” Crouching down, I say, “You’re on a mission, huh? What do you have to do?” The handsome blue eyed little man smiles and says, “Uncle Tristan hired me as his assistant to bring you this present. He said to tell you Merry Christmas.” And with that Luca hands me the box with a big smile on his face and looking so proud of himself for completing his mission successfully.

  Standing I say, “Well Thank you. You can tell him I said Merry Christmas.” Luca nods and then looks to Chase. Chase looks to me and says, “Thanks for playing along. Tristan didn’t want to knock and then leave it, with all the trouble going on. How are you doing with everything? You ok?” I sigh and reply, “I’m as good as I can be. Thanks you bringing this by and Thank you Luca for being such a great assistant. I’m sure your Daddy will make sure Uncle Tristan knows too.” Chase nods and says, “Definitely. We’ll see you soon Ollie. Say see ya’ later Luca.” Luca looks up at me with a bright smile and says, “See you later Ms. Ollie, Merry Christmas.” I nod and reply, “Merry Christmas Luca and can you tell your Mommy Merry Christmas for me too?” Nodding, Luca takes Chase’s hand and then head for their car.

  Closing the door behind me I go to the couch and sit down, placing the box on the table in front of me. I spend a few minutes starring at the box, like it’s going to do something amazing instead of just sit there. Finally, I decide that I should just open it and get it over with.

  I unwrap the box and in it I find a beautiful shiny new motorcycle helmet, custom made to match my bike with Bluetooth built in. I had mentioned to Tristan that I wanted a Bluetooth helmet once right after we started talking again. The helmet is beautiful and he even had “Ollie” written in small script on the side. Turning the helmet over, inside I find a pink wad of cloth. Pulling it out and holding it up, it has a white police badge on it, with Tristan’s badge number in the middle and around it says, “Property of CPD”. I can’t stop the smile from taking over my face while at the same time the tears start to fall without my permission.

  I miss him so much. I thought that it hurt the first time to be without him. But that pain was nothing compared to this. The first time around I had Royan to care for and worry about, leaving little time for my thoughts to wander. This time, I feel like all I have is time.

  Glancing in the bottom of the box, I find a note from Tristan and the instructions for the helmet. With trembling hands I reach in and pick up the note. Taking a deep breath while wiping away the tears I begin to read.

  My Lia,

  I don’t know where to begin, so this may come out in a jumble.

  First, I want you to know I miss you so damn much, there aren’t enough words for me express just how much I miss you. When you left the academy without a word or explanation, it hurt. But I was young and a “big tough guy” and a police academy cadet, so there was no way I would l
et on just how much I missed you. Back then, I had the academy to focus on, so I had no time to really feel the pain. This time though, this time I feel it. I feel it everywhere; I feel it in my bones, in my muscles and most of all in my heart.

  I want you to know that the woman that you saw at my house, was my ex, Jennifer. After you left I gave her 30 seconds to get out of my house, before I had her removed. If I never see her again, it would be too soon and I have felt this way from the moment I saw her in the locker room that day, even before the miracle of finding you again happened. After she left that day you saw her, all the security codes to my house were changed again and I had perimeter monitoring installed and all the doors and windows are alarmed 24-7-365.

  Please don’t let her come between us. I will do just about anything to prove to you that I want nothing to do with her and everything to do with you.

  I hope that you like your gifts, they were all ordered before she ruined everything. I had to give them to you.

  I hope that you will think about what I’ve said, and grant me my only Christmas wish this year . . . another chance with you.

  I want to try again and go as slow as either of us can stand. While making love to you is amazing and wonderful, it seems to lead to us being apart. So instead I want to hang out, go on runs, go out to dinner and see a movie and any other cliché dating stuff that normal people do.

  If you decide to grant me my Christmas wish, meet me on our bench in the park at 11:45pm on New Year’s Eve, I will be waiting for you there. I want to watch the fireworks while holding you in my arms starting the New Year off right, with a kiss at midnight.

  Merry Christmas my Lia.

  Love, Tristan

  Wiping the tears away before they stain the paper, I sit back on the couch and look to the ceiling, hoping that it will offer up some pearls of wisdom. I know what I want to do and I know the answer to Tristan’s request, the ceiling doesn’t need to tell me.

  Now I just need to take a deep breath and do it.

  Chapter 13

  Tristan

  It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m sitting on our bench in the park waiting. I’m anxious. I’ve done all the wishing and praying I can. I need her back; these past few months have been the most miserable I can remember.

  I turn to look over my shoulder for probably the hundredth time in five minutes when I see her. The smile that takes over my face is unstoppable. She is so beautiful, dressed in a black pea coat, purple leggings, black winter boots that go up to her knees and a fuzzy purple beret atop her head and matching gloves on her hands. I’m completely captivated, transfixed on her and how completely wonderful she looks; she looks like an angel just not dressed in white.

  I am so entranced by her that it takes me an extra minute to realize that she’s no longer walking toward me. She’s stopped and brought her phone to her ear. I watch as panic and fear take over her face. Then in one quick movement, she turns and takes off in a full sprint and disappears into the night.

  What the hell just happened?

  ***

  Ophelia

  No! No! No! Why won’t he answer the phone?

  Ten minutes ago all was right with the world. I knew what I wanted and I was going to go get it. I wanted Tristan. I was going to grant his Christmas wish and give us a chance, as well as a kiss at midnight.

  Now I was driving like a bat out of hell back to the house. There are only two things I never want to see on the screen of my phone, one of them is the Dispatch that is directly connected to the house’s security system. Tonight, that is exactly what I saw. The operator said there was an alarm going off at the house and that Royan was not answering the phone.

  The park was only 15 minutes away, but it felt like it took an eternity. Pulling into the driveway and skidding to a stop, I realized very quickly that something isn’t right. There is no EMS, no police, no fire department. When the alarm goes off in the house and Royan doesn’t answer when dispatch calls, emergency responders are automatically sent to the house. Something is definitely not right.

  Before getting out of my car, I get my gun from the glove box and approach the door. Keying in the code I open the door slowly. I freeze in place at the scene before me, because there isn’t enough bleach in the world to scrub the memory from my brain of the sight before me.

  On the couch, naked as the day we were born is Royan . . . with a female straddling his face and his . . . his . . . ah . . . junk in her mouth. The floor creaks and the girl pulls off of him, giving me an eye full of something I never needed to see and then she shrieks. Royan starts with a jump and pushes the girl off of him and grabs a pillow to cover himself.

  “WHAT THE FUCK OLLIE!” he yells. “What the hell are you doing here?” Finally realizing that I am still staring at my brother who is now covering himself with only a pillow I turn giving him my back. Hearing the rustling of clothes as they make themselves presentable, I explain what happened.

  Royan sends the girl on her merry way, likely to never be heard from again. After Royan has cleaned himself up and settled back in the living room we start trying to figure what happened. It seems almost like a prank. Taking out my phone, I call back the number that came up as being from dispatch. The person who answers the call, confirms that there was no alert that came in from our system. When I asked if the person I was talking to had been sitting at that station about 30 minutes prior, she said no, that she had just come on shift 5 minutes before I called. A feeling of uneasiness was slowly creeping over me. Asking the question, I was sure I knew the answer to, I asked, “Who sits at this station on the shift before you?” The girl answered, “Jennifer O’Keefe, ma’am”.

  Seething with rage, I thank the Dispatcher and hang up. Trying to keep calm, I look at my phone and realize that Tristan has been blowing it up with calls and messages. His messages are of concern and worry; why had I left; am I ok; where did I go; where was I now. Opening the last message, I reply,

  Me: Everything is ok now. Dispatch called and told me that an alarm was going off and Royan wasn’t responding. He is fine. I’m home and safe.”

  Tristan: Oh thank god you’re ok. I was getting ready to head over there with SWAT.

  Me: I am so sorry I couldn’t grant your Christmas wish and kiss you at midnight. I wanted both so badly, please know that.

  Tristan: Oh baby, I wish I was there with you right now.

  Me: I know me too. But, we have another problem.

  Tristan: Ok, what?

  Me: Jen was the dispatcher who called me about the alarm. Tristan, it was a bogus call. There was no alarm.

  Tristan: WTF? Are you serious?

  Me: As a heart attack.

  Tristan: Fuck me. It’s on now. She committed an actual crime this time. She’s done.

  Chapter 14

  Tristan

  January

  It’s been five days since my almost New Year’s reunion with Lia. I haven’t seen her, only a few texts here and there checking in with one another. I swear the planets will align before I get to see her; we are once again ships passing in the night.

  There is however a flurry of activity as a result of Jen’s false dispatch. I receive a copy of every report or write up on the case, since I am a common denominator in whatever this is. One thing is for sure though, Jen is on the run. No one has seen or heard from her since New Year’s Eve, not even my dumbass ex-partner. Apparently, he saw her for what she was and kicked her to the curb last month.

  Still though, I just want to see Lia. I want to hold her and get everything figured out so we can start being a “we” and to seal the deal with that kiss that I was supposed to have on New Year’s.

  ***

  Ophelia

  It’s been 10 days since the false dispatch call, and Jen is still on the run. I not only want to beat her to a bloody pulp over the panic and fear that she caused, but also because I still haven’t seen Tristan. If it weren’t for that she-devil, I would have at least been able to see him, been able to feel h
im and touch him. But no, that crazy bee-och had to go and ruin everything.

  The habitat house is almost done. All of the electrical and plumbing are working and the security system that is almost an exact copy of mine and Royan’s has been installed. Tristan was actually here when it was installed; it was luck of the draw – he had the day off when someone needed to come and open up the place for the security guys.

  There are just a few final things that need to be done, including cleaning up after all the work. Apparently I drew the short straw and that is my task for today. Armed with cleaning supplies, garbage bags and a shop vac I set to work while rocking out to my “hair band” playlist.

  It’s getting late, when I take a break, eat a snack and reassess what still needs to be done. Getting ready to do a few more things before calling it a night, an alarm starts going off in the basement. Knowing from our own system that the alarm is for the furnace, I head for the basement to check it out. I’m half-way down the stairs when the door at the top of the stairs slams behind me. Running back up the stairs I try to open it, but the door won’t budge almost like its being held shut. I run back down the stairs and over to the bilco doors, to find that they won’t budge either.

  While trying to calm myself down and to think clearly, I realize that the smell of natural gas in quickly becoming overwhelming; the alarm wasn’t just for the furnace, but an alert for a natural gas leak.

  I am quickly becoming light headed and the last thing I remember is thinking that the alarms are going to give me a headache.