Second Chances (5 page)

"Do you have any idea how disconcerting that was?"

He opened his mouth, but she continued on.

"And I do not mean just the gum. Back there at the gate. My ticket, how did you know?"

Nathan swallowed and took a slow deep breath. "I know," he said, "because that is what you have always done for as long as I have known you."

"You have only known me for like forty minutes."

"That isn't true, Pai..."

"Yes," she insisted in a low hiss. "Yes, it is. I do not know you. Until you came up to me in the terminal I had never seen you before in my life."

"You saw the..."

"Yes, the pictures. They do in fact look like me. I can't deny that. But I am telling you that they can't possibly be of me. I do not know you. I never met you, let alone married you. I do not know who that woman in those pictures is, but it is not me."

"But Paige, please listen..."

She held up a trembling hand, silencing him.

"Please let me finish. They say everyone has a double somewhere out there. I never actually believed that, but maybe it's true. From those pictures, I have almost no choice but to believe it is true. Maybe that woman is my double."

"Paige Elizabeth Kendall."

"So you know my name. After the last half hour, do you think that is going to surprise me?"

"No. Paige Elizabeth Kendall is the name of the woman I met three years ago. The woman I fell in love with and the woman I married."

"Well that woman was not me," she insisted.

"You don't find it strange that she had the same exact name?"

"Strange? Hell, I find everything about this strange. I do not have any answers for you though. I...yes, I find it...eerie, to say the least. To know that there was another person out there with my face. And I find it almost down right unbelievable that she had the same name as me, but...but she is not...I mean, I am not her. She and I..."
 

Paige shook her head, words failing her.

Nathan could feel his heart thundering in his chest, could almost feel hers as well. She had gone pale again. Her hands had stopped trembling, but that was only because she was gripping the armrests so tight that her knuckles had turned white. He opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying anything. He debated with himself on how to proceed, on just how much he should push.

The captain came back on the intercom and announced they had reached their cruising altitude, but asked that everyone remain seated with seat-belts fastened as they had some rough air ahead, but assured them that they would pass through it quickly at which time the flight attendants would begin beverage service.
 

"Kline, Kansas," Nathan whispered.

She may have made a sound, a whimper of sorts, but he thought that might have only been his imagination. He also thought she might have tightened her grip on the armrests.
 

"My Paige," he began again, his voice still barely a whisper. "She was from Kline, Kansas. A very small town. A farming community was what she always said. We never got around to going there, but she talked about it fondly. She was an only child. Her mother worked at a local grocery store. She kept the books. Her father was a retired doctor, who taught chemistry at the high..."

A sob broke from Paige. She fumbled for her seat-belt, almost thrashing around in an effort to free herself. When the clasp finally came free, she launched herself passed Nathan and into the aisle. Around her people stared as she rushed down the aisle, a few letting out startled cries. A flight attendant called out for her to return to her seat, then called out again as Nathan got up and followed her. Both requests went unanswered.

She looked at her watch and then at the phone. It was only five minutes later than the last time she had checked, but it seemed so much longer. She should have received the call by now, shouldn't she have?
 

She reached in her purse and pulled out the pack of cigarettes. She fished the last one out and popped it between her lips as she dug around for her lighter. She found it and tried it. It sparked a bit, but didn't produce a flame. In her head she heard her husband's voice telling her it was yet another sign that she should quit. She cursed him and flung the lighter across the room. She plucked the cigarette from between her lips and snapped it into two pieces.

"Happy?" she asked the empty apartment and then looked at her watch again.
 

She sat down at the desk and her hands flew over the keyboard. Her right leg bounced involuntarily up and down. When she finished typing, she placed her hand over her knee in a useless effort to stop it.

The screen flickered as the information she'd requested was loaded.

She looked at the torn cigarette longingly. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

She snapped up her phone and looked at it, considering her next move. She was no longer expecting it to ring, but rather was now wondering if she should be making a call. Did this warrant a call? Did she really want to disturb him for something that might be nothing?

She snatched up the torn cigarette and went to look for some matches.

He stood outside the door. He could hear her sobbing inside and it tore at him. He hated that he had been the one to cause her anguish and it pained him that he could not comfort her. He wished he could hold her, soothe her, promise her that everything would be okay. He despised the looks he got from the passengers around him. They didn't stare openly, but rather kept sneaking glances, peeking around the corner of their chairs, looking over the tops of their newspapers and magazines. He wanted to scream at them, tell them all to just go to hell. Tell their questioning glances that it was none of their business, that his pain, Paige's pain, was not for their consumption and entertainment. It didn't bother him what they might think had had happened. He didn't care if they thought he was an abusive husband or perhaps thought they were witnessing a messy breakup, it only bothered him that they were able to witness Paige's pain.

One of the flight attendants, the bottle-blonde, made her way over to Nathan.

"Sir? Is there an emergency?"

Nathan didn't respond, wasn't quite sure what to say. Was it an emergency? It certainly felt like one to him.

"Sir, you really need to return to your seat," she said forcefully.

He locked eyes with her, the intensity of his gaze causing her to back up a step.
 

"I am not leaving this spot."

"Then I am going to have..."

"Please." It was all Nathan could manage for the moment. His eyes pleaded with the woman.
 

"But..."

"Please. She needs me. I need to be here right now. Please."

She looked at him for a long time, seeing the raging emotions in his eyes. Finally she nodded. She looked back up towards the front of the cabin and shook her head at someone and then turned and walked away, a mixture of sadness and jealousy upon her face.

Nathan knew how he'd normally handle a situation like this. Well not exactly like this, but a situation in which Paige was emotionally distraught. But now he was unsure of himself. Given the circumstances, he feared that the words he might use to calm Paige would now only serve to cause her further distress.

He leaned his head against the door and gently knocked.

"Paige," he said softly. "I hope you can hear me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you or upset you like that. I guess I wasn't thinking. I know how this is for me, but I can only imagine how all this must seem to you. I don't know exactly what is going on. Actually, I don't have a damn clue about what is going on. However, what I do know is that I am not crazy. I know you. I know who you are and all about you. And the reason I know all that is because it was you who told me. Even if you don't remember telling me. I know you likely have as many questions about what is going on as I do, maybe even more. Maybe if we sit down and talk about it, we can figure some of this out together."

He stopped for a moment, his eyes locked on the occupied sign on the door. He could still hear her behind the door, but her crying was softer, more controlled now.

"Please. Please don't think I am some crazy stalker type. I'm not. I am not crazy at all."

"Then what?" she sobbed through the door. "I am the crazy one?"

"No. I don't believe that. Not for a minute," he said, doing his best to keep his voice level and calm. He wiped at the tears running down his face.

"Then what?"

"I don't think either of us is crazy. I think...I honestly don't know what I think. I don't have a clue what is happening. What I do know is that you are indeed Paige Elizabeth Kendall. The woman I met, fell in love with and married years ago. The only woman I ever have or ever will love. I don't know how it is possible, but I can't deny the proof my own eyes are showing me. I am just as confused as you are. I am just as frightened as you are, maybe more so. I'm sorry I pressed so hard before, but I just didn't know what else to do. All I know is that I love you and I'm so terrified that this plane is going to land and you are going to disappear from my life. I honestly don't know if I can survive that again."

His voice cracked. Nathan leaned against the door, burying his head in his elbow. His entire body shuddered as he forced back the anguish that threatened to completely overwhelm him.

The flight attendant began to come down the aisle towards him again, but was stopped by an elderly woman a few rows from Nathan, who held out her arm to prevent her passage. She shook her head and waved her back. The attendant looked from the woman to Nathan and then back before retreating again.

"I can wait," he whispered. "I can wait until you are ready, Paige. Just please, please don't disappear from my life again."

Nathan looked up and blinked. He wasn't sure how long he'd been leaning against the door, time had lost meaning for him. He was vaguely aware that the captain had made another announcement, but what he'd said Nathan couldn't recall. He noticed that the flight attendants were now in the process of serving drinks and that other people were moving around him, using the other bathroom next to him. He was also aware that Paige's crying had stopped or she was now crying so softly he couldn't hear her. He also realized what the sound was that had finally brought him back to reality. It had been a loud metal click, it echoed in his ears. He blinked, his eyes now dry and wiped at the saltiness that still clung to his eyelashes. The red occupied sign had flipped to now read vacant.
 

Nathan stepped back from the door. His lips were dry and his breathing shallow.

Paige's eyes were puffy and downcast. He began to reach out to her but she held up her hand and shook her head, silently begging for him to back away. Nathan retreated a step and Paige moved past him heading back towards her seat. The elderly woman, who'd held the flight attendant at bay, offered her a sympathetic smile as she went by and patted Nathan on the arm as he followed.

The flight attendant looked a bit put off by the duo as she was forced to back up her drink cart to allow them back to their seats. She held her words and offered them an obviously well rehearsed plastic smile, but no drinks.

Paige resumed her position by the window that now offered only a view of white fluffy clouds, which did not match her mood.

Nathan did his best to ignore the stares from the other passengers around them as he took his seat. He glanced at Paige, who continued to stare out the window. He opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to send Paige running back to the lavatory and feared anything he said would do exactly that, so he remained silent.

"The pictures," she whispered after a few moments.

Nathan pulled his wallet from is jacket pocket and handed the entire thing over to her, noting that she still refused to look at him. She held it in her hands, feeling the well-worn leather for a moment, then lowered her tray table and placed the wallet on it. There it sat for the next fifteen minutes. Paige reached for it a number of times, even touched it twice, but didn't open it.
 

Nathan did his best to maintain control of himself. He wanted to reach over and open the wallet, remove the pictures and talk about each of them, share the memories he had of each. He fidgeted in his seat, like a little boy getting his first haircut. Finally he rose and headed down the aisle, leaving Paige alone, knowing it was his only choice.

Paige turned and watched him walk away. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her hands trembled slightly and she rubbed at the goosebumps that had suddenly taken up residence on her arms. She gave one more glance back, ensuring that he wasn't returning, then turned her attention to the wallet. She flipped it open and pulled out the sleeve of pictures and set them aside. She pulled out his license and looked it over.

"Good picture," she muttered to herself and then shook her head at the foolishness of the statement.

Paige continued her inventory of the wallet. She found four different credit cards. In another section she found a few cards with his name on them as well as half a dozen business cards, all for people whose names meant nothing to her. Tucked behind the area where his license had been she found a discount card for a bookstore, an expired CPR certification card and a library card. She flipped the main body of the wallet open and while not actually counting, noted that he was carrying more then a little bit of cash.

Paige closed the wallet and placed it back on the tray table. Her hands had stopped trembling for the moment and she took that to be a good sign. She turned her attention to the pictures, pulling them free from the plastic. She reached up and turned on the overhead light, which didn't seem to add anything to the light already streaming through the window.

She quickly flipped through them all. In all but two of the pictures, they showed Nathan with the woman who looked like her. The other two pictures were only of her lookalike. She stared at the two solo shots, held them close to her face and then up to the light. She did not know what she was looking for, but was hoping for something that would scream obvious fake to her. They looked like any other picture she had ever seen of herself, except for the fact that she knew for certain that she had never posed for these pictures. There was no way the woman in these photographs was her, of that she was certain.