The Single Mom's Second Chance

by Jessica Keller

  Laura dropped her hand onto Alex’s head and ruffled his almost-black hair. “Hey, buddy, let me give you a tour of upstairs. I’ll even show you where Evan keeps a secret stash of old comic books.”

  Evan winked a thank-you to his sister as they pounded up the steps past him. He patted Stella’s head and continued into the kitchen. “Claire.”

  “There’s no reason for you to be kicked out of your room on my account.”

  “I fall asleep on the couch three or four times a week because I get sucked into watching some late night nature documentary. Or I’m working in the garage and by the time I realize it’s late I’m too tired to haul myself upstairs. Ask Laura. She’ll tell you, me and this couch are old friends.”

  “But it’s your room.”

  “Don’t make a big deal about this. It’s a bed with clean sheets and you’re snowed in. No different than a hotel, except for the no room service part.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

  “I’m not having a guest sleep on the couch when there’s a bed available. I’ll stay down here, use the bathroom down here, and you can be up there with the kids. It’s the best given the situation.”

  “Fine.”

  “Mom!” Alex hollered from somewhere upstairs. “Do you want the green toothbrush or the one I dropped on the ground?”

  Evan couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, man. Choices.”

  She shook her head, a sad smile playing across her lips. “I had thought we would talk, about everything...but now, with Alex... Us, together here, overnight...” She wrung her hands. “I’m a mom, Evan. He’s still trying to accept everything. I don’t—”

  Evan bowed his head and prayed he’d say the right thing. “Alex is your top priority, as he should be. We’ll figure it out, I promise. He needs you. Go. Don’t worry about me.”

  * * *

  Hours later Evan stared at the ceiling, watching branch shadows cast by his porch lamps move in the wind. Old trees had popped and groaned all around the house during the storm and he hadn’t been able to sleep, worried that one of them would fall. A hazard of living in the middle of a forest. But the storm had stilled within the last thirty minutes.

  At least the one outside. The one in his heart? Not so much.

  He’d meant what he said to Claire, that it was more important for her to take care of Alex than to have an overdue relationship conversation with him. Still, he’d held out hope that she’d come back downstairs after tucking Alex into bed.

  He swung his feet to the floor and sat up. Elbows on his knees, Evan scrubbed his hands over his face. If sleep was going to elude him, he might as well go out and clear as much of the snow as he could. Their church service started early and he was supposed to be there well before the service began to help with setup. Besides, if the roads were clear, then Claire and Alex would have to leave straight from breakfast so they could head home and change and still get to church in time. Shoveling while he thought accomplished more than staying in bed.

  Stella bounded outside with him. She ran in ecstatic doggy zigzags, nipping at the snow and then hopping back to bark at it.

  “Stella-bell, hush. People are sleeping.”

  Properly subdued, she took to rolling in every shovelful of snow he heaved off the driveway, making the process take three times longer than usual. Actually, the whole chore could have been done in fifteen or twenty minutes if he’d opened his shed and taken out his riding mower. It had a shovel attachment, which was how he usually cleared the drive. But not at midnight when people were sleeping inside.

  Stella spotted motion on the front porch before he noticed, and took off sprinting to see who had joined them outside.

  Claire placed two mugs on the steps and then spread a flannel blanket out on the porch. She sat down. “Break time.”

  Evan stomped the snow off of his boots and headed over to her. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  She shook her head and handed him a steaming mug. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Me, either.” He sat down beside her and took a sip. Hot chocolate exactly the way he loved it. She’d discovered his stockpile of peanut butter cups.

  “You always were a hard worker, throwing yourself fully into whatever you put your mind to. I admired that about you.” She gestured with her mug, indicating the headway he’d made on the driveway. “After everything, that might be what hurt the most. When you commit, you’re all in. But when it came to me, I didn’t inspire that in you.”

  “That wasn’t it at all.” He set his hot cocoa down on the step beside him and took her free hand in both of his. “I don’t know where to start or how to say it without—”

  “Just say it. It’s time.”

  He had a hard road ahead of him. Claire knew that her father wasn’t the best person, but he was still her family. Evan didn’t want to paint Sesser as a monster. Then again, he could hardly make light of him blackmailing an eighteen-year-old.

  “On the way to our wedding I stopped to buy you flowers. Peonies.”

  “My favorite.”

  “We were getting married at a courthouse.” He shrugged. “You were having to do without so many of the normal things girls want on their wedding day. I at least wanted you to have a bouquet. Anyway, your dad must have been following me. He blocked my car in the parking spot and refused to move his own until I talked to him.”

  She opened her mouth. In shock? Or to say something? But nothing came out, so he kept going. Might as well press on with the story while she was willing to listen.

  “He cornered me. There were two other guys in his car. Big guys.” Men who had sneered and cracked their knuckles as they flanked Sesser. “It was like a scene out of a mob movie.”

  “I had no idea.” Claire set down her mug and used the hand he wasn’t holding to swipe at her eyes. “My dad?”

  Evan fought the desire to forgo the story in favor of drawing her against his chest again. Telling her he was here now and was never going to leave.

  He cleared his throat. “He had this file with him. It was full of bank statements and collection notices. They were all in Brice’s name. Sesser told me that my dad had racked up a ton of loans in my brother’s name and Sesser owned a lot of them. If he called in the debts, it would ruin Brice’s life. Brice was in college at the time—he had no clue. He was working so hard to make something of himself outside of our family.”

  Her fingers tightened around his. “Ev.” She spoke his name in the same way she would say “sorry.”

  “Then he told me that if I didn’t walk away from you, he’d use his connections to have Brice expelled from university. He also promised to make it impossible for Brice to ever find a welcome at any school in the state. I believed he was powerful enough to make good on that threat.”

  Claire was thoughtful for a moment before she nodded. “He was. Still is.”

  “If I didn’t show, if I left you, he vowed to make the debts go away, leave my parents alone for good and see that Brice’s schooling would be anonymously paid for in full.”

  “I see.” Ice edged her voice.

  Evan swallowed hard. He thought she’d been following the logic, understanding. He had to make her see that, given the situation, he’d done the only thing he could. “I owe Brice my life, Claire. You know that more than anyone.”

  “So that’s all it took?” She jerked her hand from his. Crossed her arms over her chest and turned her knees so they were no longer bumped up against his. “Some of my dad’s money?”

  Her words hit Evan with the force of a slap. “You make it sound like a payoff.”

  Claire arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it?”

  Stella crawled up the steps and curled against his side. Picking up on the tension, she let out a whine as she set her head on his thigh.

  If
he’d pushed back at Sesser, her father would have found another way. They were young, and even if they’d run far away from Goose Harbor, his influence was far-reaching. “Did I really have a choice?”

  “Yes. You could have come to me that day and told me everything. We could have faced my dad together. We could have gone to the police to get my father’s threats on file.”

  “Do you honestly believe that at eighteen we could have stood up to your dad?”

  “I guess we’ll never know, will we? I used to believe we could face anything together.” Her voice cracked and she turned to look out at the fresh snow blanketing the side yard.

  He caught her hand, willing her to warm to him again. “It was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. His bodyguards tossed me into the back of a second car. He drove to the courthouse and they made me watch as you cried on the steps. Sesser came to where they had me at the back window, showed me plane tickets and told me your stuff was already packed. You never told me you’d applied to Columbia. I had no clue you were registered to start there in the fall. If we’d married that day, I would have been responsible for holding you back.”

  “That was my choice to make!”

  “You should have told me. That whole time, you had a backup plan.” He kept his voice gentle. “Once I saw the acceptance letter, I realized that you were meant for far better things than marrying a woodcarver with no aspirations outside of this town. I never would have been good enough for someone like you.”

  Evan pictured his mother. She’d always been a tiny woman, but as she aged and bitterness wore on her, she’d wasted away to sharp edges and scowls. Sheryl Daniels had married his father when she was already pregnant with Brice, and she held the mistake over Brice’s head with anger even now. Their mother was quick to say something spiteful, especially toward their father, but Evan had to believe that they had loved each other at some point, long ago. And he never wanted that...never wanted to love a woman and then have her later regret being shackled to him.

  If you leave this car and marry her, you’re selfish. Full-on selfish. You’ll take away every opportunity she has in this life. You don’t deserve someone like her. My daughter is smart and capable, but if you do this, you’ll destroy her and that’s not love, son. If you love her, like you supposedly say you do, then you’ll let these men drive you away and I’ll never have to deal with you again. Understood?

  Her next question surprised him. “Does Brice know?”

  Evan had thought—hoped—she might argue about him not being worthy of her. Apparently, though, she agreed.

  He shook his head. “None of it.”

  “You have to tell him. He deserves to know.”

  * * *

  They were silent for a long time.

  Claire rolled her shoulders. She warred between two reactions. She wanted to throw her arms around Evan, tell him she understood and wanted to start fresh with him, that she loved him. But equally, she wanted to yell at him. The mystery of Evan’s abandonment had been solved, but the answer left her feeling more alone than before. Because everything came down to a single point—when given the option, he hadn’t chosen her.

  Brice was more important. Her father’s dreams about her future were more important. Evan’s need to belittle himself was more important. Deep down, he must not have believed their love was strong enough to weather those storms.

  But Claire had. She’d rushed off to school only to bandage her broken heart. She would have gladly chosen a life with Evan over her degrees and experiences.

  She rolled her shoulders again. “If this is all true, then why didn’t you answer any of my letters?”

  “I didn’t—You wrote to me?” Evan jerked his head back. His surprise was genuine.

  “I sent them to your parents’ house.” It was the only address she had.

  “I never went back there, after that day.” He braced his hand on the porch behind him and leaned back. “I moved into the apartment over Mrs. Clarkson’s garage. My parents... If you wrote I never got them.” He rubbed his hand over the top of his stocking hat. “Both of my parents have something against your family. They must have tossed them.” He shook his head. “I gave your mom letters, too. I’m guessing they never made it to you, either?”

  Her mother had prevented their relationship, as well? Betrayal sliced deeper into Claire’s heart. She’d known what her father was capable of but hadn’t imagined her mother playing a part.

  Evan was still waiting for an answer, but words cost too much at the moment, so she shook her head.

  “When I never heard from you, I took that as confirmation that what I did was for the best. That you didn’t love me.” He scrubbed his hand around his jaw. “I figured you hated me.”

  He was determined to see everything in that light—to believe he didn’t deserve to be happy and loved. Wasn’t he? Telling him he was wrong wouldn’t solve that. Evan would have to realize his worth on his own. No woman could give him that.

  They didn’t need to dwell on the past and what-ifs any longer. The conversation had happened, answers had been given and it was time to move on with both their lives.

  Getting ready to stand, she dusted off her pant legs. “Aren’t we a sad pair? Both jumping to any available conclusion.”

  “Claire...if we’d married, you probably wouldn’t have Alex.”

  “Is that your way of saying it was all God’s plan?” Was he suggesting that God had wanted her to cry herself to sleep for months on end? To waste time with Auden? To feel lost and alone for twelve years? That was God’s plan for her life?

  “I was thinking more along the lines of, isn’t it amazing that God uses our failings to still do good. When we make a mess of things—when I make a mess of things—He doesn’t stop working or being faithful.”

  Alex—he was the positive out of all that had occurred. She’d had the same thought before. Adopting her son was worth all the pain she’d been through in the past, but was it too much to hope that the future could be different? Brighter?

  “I don’t hate you,” Claire said. “I could never hate you.” Her shoulder touched his and she let it stay there. Contact. It wasn’t so bad. “Don’t you wish life could be like this snow?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look at it. It’s perfect. Unspoiled. If only we could figure out how to pull a proverbial blanket of snow over all that’s happened between us... I want to believe there’s a way, still.”

  God, I love this man, but I’m also really hurt by all that’s happened between us. Is that wrong? Can this still happen?

  Evan tilted his head. “The snow doesn’t make things perfect. It’s only hiding the problems and ugly parts of my yard. It may look pristine, but over there—” he pointed to some trees “—I never got around to removing the leaves from that part of the yard. They’re a slimy, rotting pile. You can’t see them, but they’re there. A facade, as pretty as it can be, is never better than the mess of reality.”

  Then he pointed beyond her car. “On that side of the driveway I have a mud pit that refuses to grow grass. It’s unsightly in the spring. The snow may cover those problems, but they’re all still there and still need to be dealt with. Issues don’t go away simply because they’re covered or ignored.”

  She sighed and let her head rest on his shoulder. She was tired, from today, yes, but it more had to do with a tiredness in her soul. Right now, for a few minutes, she wanted to be close to Evan and not worry about what that meant. “You just turned that snowfall into something way bigger.”

  He brought his arm around her back. “I might have gotten a tad carried away.”

  “Just a tad. But joking aside, it’s a good way to look at things.”

  “So...if we’re choosing not to ignore hard things, where does that leave us?”

  And that quick
ly, reality came crashing in.

  Claire lifted her head off his shoulder and closed her eyes, taking in a long breath of air and then blowing it out. “It leaves us with an election next weekend. Let’s finish this race, and after that, we’ll talk.”

  “After the election.” He got to his feet and offered her a hand up. “I can live with that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was late on Wednesday night. Claire’s hands were shaking.

  Please don’t take my dad. Not yet. He doesn’t know You.

  Thankfully, Mom had called 911 before barging into Claire’s apartment to tell her through broken sobs that Dad had collapsed in the dining room and was unresponsive. Every first aid video Claire had ever watched had flooded into her mind. She’d started chest compressions without knowing if she was doing them correctly, but the paramedics had assured her she had done everything she could. Mom had gone along in the ambulance.

  Claire focused on the phone in her hand and on Mom’s anxious voice on the other end. “The doctor is saying he may not make it. They rushed him inside and tossed around the words heart attack. I can’t be here alone. I need you, Claire.”

  “Mom, Alex is sleeping. He has school tomorrow.”

  “Can’t you wake him up and bring him with you? This is his grandfather.”

  “Let me see what I can do. Okay? Calm down, Mom. Take some deep breaths. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

  There were only so many people she trusted and knew well enough to ask to take care of Alex. Her cousin Jason was one of them, but after Dad had chewed him out over his coverage of the mayoral race, Jason had decided to take a week off to visit his mom in North Carolina. Kendall wouldn’t get back from her honeymoon until Friday night, which was still two nights away. The Holcombs were always willing to watch Alex, but it was eleven on a school night and Jenna’s ill father lived with them, so Claire wasn’t going to call them at this late hour.

  She stared at Evan’s number on the screen. Would he still be awake? They hadn’t seen each other since Sunday. Evan was backlogged with furniture orders he’d put off the week before in order to dedicate time to planning the 5k event, and he’d signed Stella up for doggie obedience classes. All the mayoral challenges, besides the speeches they would give directly before the polls opened, were done. They’d exchanged a few polite texts wishing each other good days, but that had been the extent of their contact.