Second Chances (17 page)

“I've gotta get back over to Griff's and get ready to head to the airport,” he says softly, as he presses a kiss to my forehead and reality comes crashing back down around me. I nod and sit up, feeling a very heavy weight on my chest. We dress quickly and quietly, and I wish our time together could last longer.

“Can I get a picture of those?” he asks and I find a goofy grin stretched across his handsome face as he looks down at my shorts. I cover my mouth as I laugh, but turn so that my back is to him, legs slightly separated, and I glance over my shoulder with a lust-filled look. Hopefully my hair isn't ridiculous. He picks up his phone and snaps a photo of me. “Damn, girl, look what you did,” he says, his voice low and husky again. I look down and see a large bulge in the front of his shorts.

I smile and saunter over to him. I'm suddenly some kind of sex vixen! “That's for your eyes only,” I purr at him, my hands on his chest as I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him. He groans, reaches around to pick me up, wraps my legs around his waist, and kisses me senseless. I can feel his erection pressing where I want it again so badly and I moan.

“I wish I had more time,” he whispers in a pained voice, his eyes scrunched closed as he sets me back down again. 

“Me too,” I sigh, tears stinging my eyes even as I fight them off. I will miss him more than he can ever know. There are no doubts in my mind about last night, but I know that the time we've spent here is going to cause me to miss him that much more. I crave him with my entire being now.

“Hey,” he says, both hands on the sides of my face as he tilts me up to look at him. “Please don't cry. I'll be back before you know it and I won't be leaving again after that.”

He kisses me again and I feel a coldness creep into my core before he even slides my window open. This can't be like last time. I won't survive it again. Not with everything that has changed between us. He's straddling my windowsill with a hand on the tree branch as he leans in for one last kiss. “Love you, Hayles. I'll keep in touch. . .phone this time, not snail mail.”

“I love you too, Chase,” I whisper and watch as he shimmies down the tree and jogs across the lawn, blowing me a kiss as he goes. I stand there shivering with the window open for I don't even know how long. My body is shaking profusely by the time I finally slide the window down and crawl back into bed. I lay on my side with the covers pulled up tight to my chin and sob as I realize that my pillow smells like Chase. I wonder how long that will last. 

There's a knock on my bedroom door and I wake with a start and glance at my clock. It's 10:25 and Chase's flight left at 9:45. He's gone. More tears come. The knock sounds again but I still don't answer. I am numb.

“Haylee, it's Griff, and I know you're in there crying,” his muffled voice floats through my door. “You can open up or I'm gonna just come in there anyway.”

“Just come in,” I mutter so I won't have to get up. I don't even bother to lift my head as I hear the door creak open and Griff's big feet pad into the room. I feel the mattress dip down beside me and he pulls the sheets down away from my face a little bit.

“If you think for one second that I'm gonna just let you lay here and wallow in self-pity then you are out of your mind, little girl,” he tells me and I close my eyes and groan. I just feel so empty and alone even with Griff sitting right beside me. I don't want to move from my cocoon of warmth, memories, and Chase's scent. I want to just stay right here and sleep the time away until he comes back. Completely pathetic, but it's the reality of how I feel.

“Someone needs your help,” he tells me and I figure he's just trying anything to get me up, so I still lay unmoving. “Momma had the babies last night.”

Okay, that's probably the one thing he can say that would get me up. Leave it to Griff. “How many?” I ask, my voice hoarse from crying. I pull myself up into a sitting position and a shit-eating grin spreads across Griff's face. 

“You better not just be messing with me!” I warn him with my brows raised. I don't think he would lie to me about something like that just to get me up, but he looks suspicious.

He laughs at my warning. “I'm not lying, and she had five.”

“Get outta here while I put some clothes on and I'll meet you down at the barn,” I tell him, waiting to toss the covers back knowing what I am wearing. Griff has seen me like this before, but I've never thought much about it. After Chase's reaction last night though, I'm thinking about it.

Griff stands up then and the smirk on his face tells me that he's glad his mission has been successful. 

I don't even bother to put a bra on. I just throw a hoodie over my tank and pull on a pair of jogging pants. I wrap a rubberband around the mess that is my hair and make a quick pit stop before jogging down to the barn. Griff and his dad are there, just sitting back a bit and watching Momma take care of her kittens. 

“I half expected to find you sleeping out here last night,” Dr. Michaels says to me as I step up beside them. My cheeks burn with color as I remember where I was last night instead of out here in the barn.

“I didn't know she was that close,” I reply, just watching in fascination as Momma licks her babies as they nurse from her. “Any trouble?”

“Not that I can tell. This is how I found them all this morning and they're all healthy,” Dr. Michaels replies. I feel Punkin bump up against my leg then, her soft fur dragging along my skin. I bend over and scoop her up into my arms. She's watching the new mother and kittens as well.

“Did you make any flyers yet?” I ask Griff. He's amazing at graphic arts and always makes flyers to put up around town announcing that there are kittens available.

“Not yet. Their eyes aren't even open yet. I'll get pictures of them to put on it too when it's closer to time,” Griff replies. I'm getting ahead of myself, but I need this. I need to focus on something other than the way I feel about Chase being gone. This mother and kittens are going to get my undivided attention for a while. It's nice to have a purpose that feels important to me. These kittens couldn't have come at a more perfect time. 

I spend my days dancing when I have to, working at Dr. Michaels as often as possible--I begged him for
anything
to do, boarding when I can squeeze it in, and helping Momma with her new babies. It's important that I'm there with them often, so that she knows she can trust me with them. She's doing great and is even letting us hold the kittens, at least for a few minutes at a time.

Chase texted when he arrived at LAX and often since then. I scramble for my phone whenever it chimes with an incoming text, but I still miss him terribly. He has started packing up with Dylan's help and even took first place in his division at the competition. I wish I could have been there to see it. He is working on getting out of his lease on his apartment and selling his truck. He plans to just buy a new one when he gets out here so that he doesn't have to drive across the country. He is going to hire a moving company to ship the stuff that he wants to keep. He and Griff text back and forth as well, and I'm fairly certain that he has asked Griff to look after me because I always feel Griff watching me and inviting me along to do whatever he's doing. It's a little much sometimes. I have no desire to join him and some friends at the bar to be his decoy or wingman or whichever mood he is in. I know that he means well, and I appreciate his concern, but I can survive for a couple of hours on my own. 

One night I come home from the barn and find Mom sitting in the kitchen in complete darkness. Not one light is on and it freaks me out. I flip on the overhead light and she startles as she looks over me, unaware that I'm even in the house. Things are getting worse instead of better.

“Why are you sitting here in the dark, Mom?” I ask her.

She looks around for a moment as though she hasn't even realized it has gotten dark out and I wonder how long she's been sitting here like that. “I am just. . . I don't know,” she replies and even her voice seems distant. I sit down in the chair beside hers and reach out to take her hand. We haven't talked since I'd found Chase's letters and it's time. 

“Mom, I'm really worried about you,” I start softly. She just attempts to smile and shakes her head like always.

“I'm fine, sweetie,” she murmurs. Guess that's where I get that line from. “And I truly am so sorry about keeping his letters from you.”

My heart squeezes. Maybe the way I reacted caused her to get even worse. I am always so careful of what I say and do around her and I was just so angry that day that I snapped. I feel terrible.

“It's okay, Mom. I forgive you. I know you were just trying to help me,” I tell her. I have forgiven her, and even though I don't completely understand why she thought keeping them from me would make things any better, Chase and I have gotten past that now. I sat on the floor of my bedroom the evening after Chase left and read each and every letter he'd sent me. I feel awful to realize that he believed that the reason I never wrote back was that I moved on to new friends and didn't want to bother with him anymore. It's been difficult for me to learn that when it couldn't have been farther from the truth. It's taken some time for me to get past the fact that Mom's actions have altered the course of our lives in a negative way, but I know that I have to. My heart swells though when he pours out his feelings for me on paper. For whatever reason, we've been given a second chance and maybe things wouldn't have worked out between us before. 

There are tears pouring down Mom's cheeks. “I'm glad that you found a way to forgive me,” she sniffles. “But I'm not sure I can forgive myself.”

I stand up and drop down on my knees in front of her, wrapping my arms around her waist like a small child would. She sobs into my hair and I cry along with her because I'm afraid for her. She is deep in some kind of depression that is beyond my help.

“I think you need to talk to someone,” I say softly when I finally pull back and sit down on my heels. I'm afraid of how she'll react. She saw a counselor for about a month after dad's death, but she got overwhelmed by dealing with all that had to be done for his funeral and burial, cleaning his clothes out of their closet, and having to step up and take on the role of a single mother. So she eventually quit going in favor of working more hours to provide for us. I'm an adult now though and capable of handling a lot more and taking care of my own expenses. It's time that she takes some time to get her own life back.

Looking back, I don't think I really gave my mom enough credit for all that she has gone through and all that she has done. She's gone from very part- time work to a full-time job, and even works overtime and extra shifts to ensure that we won't feel the pinch too much. Dad left us plenty to keep our heads above water, but that money won't last forever and Mom stepped right up to become the breadwinner. She made sure I had everything I needed for school and helped me with homework on the nights that she didn't have to work even though I could see that she was tired. She made sure that I kept dancing, and I decided to keep right on doing it because I saw early on that it was a bright spot for her. She loved to come and watch our performances and I loved to see a smile on her face when she did. She helped me get a car when it was time and fill out college applications when that time came too. She was disappointed that I didn't choose to go to a school for dance, but I just can't do it. I know it's not where my future is. Even though I am talented enough to probably get in, I just want to be done with it.

I had chosen to stay local for college at least for the first year. It would be a lot of core classes no matter where I went, so why spend extra money? I had gotten a few scholarships that would help with tuition.

“I think you're right, Haylee,” she finally speaks and her voice is barely above a whisper. “I'll give my counselor a call in the morning.” She smiles weakly at me and I'm slightly relieved. I will have to check with her and make sure she actually makes the call, but this is progress.

“Thanks, Mom. I love you,” I tell her and press a kiss to her cheek. “Ready to head up for bed?”

She nods and follows me up the stairs. I wonder if I hadn't come in then, how long she would have sat there? All night? I shiver at that thought and hope the counseling will be what she needs this time.

The next week is a long one for me. I keep insanely busy in order to keep from dwelling on the fact that Chase is still gone. True to her word, Mom has gone to see her counselor--twice this week --and she already seems a little bit better. I work as many hours as Dr. Michaels will give me at the office and go to dance when I have to. I'm planning to talk to Mom about quitting, but I want to give her a little more time with her counselor first.

One evening, I head out to the barn to hang out with Griff and play with Momma and the kittens. Their eyes are open now and they're beginning to get adventurous, wandering farther from Momma. They each have their own little personalities. My favorite is the female runt of the litter. She's still quite tiny compared to her siblings and always comes right up to me and plays with anything loose I'm wearing, eventually snuggling into my lap.

“So you gonna come out with us tonight?” Griff asks me. He's going to a bar in town with Max and Parker again. He usually asks me at least once a week, but I haven't gone yet.

“No, thanks,” I tell him like always and he sighs.

“Haylee, you haven't done anything fun for yourself since he left and he wouldn't want that for you.”

“I do fun stuff!” I quickly argue and he raises his brow as if to ask me what that is exactly. “I go wakeboarding and. . . play with the kittens,” I tell him as I pet the runt baby in my lap and Punkin right beside me. Punkin has kind of stepped in as a surrogate mom and helps Momma keep the kittens from wandering too far. It's quite endearing. And entertaining, at least for someone like me at this point.

“Haylee, playing with the kittens does not qualify as doing something fun. . .”

“Maybe not to you. . .”

“And you haven't been wakeboarding as much as usual.”

“I've been working a lot,” I defend and he rakes both hands through his dark, almost black hair. He's frustrated with me. “Please.” He is reverting to begging now.

He isn't going to keep taking no for answer, but I really don't feel like it tonight. “Next time,” I tell him.

He sighs heavily. “You know I'm gonna hold you to that?”

“Oh, I know,” I shoot him a look, wishing I hadn't said that.

A few minutes later, Max and Parker pull up and Griff hops into the car with them, leaving me alone with the cats. I better be careful because at this rate, I'm going to end up as the crazy cat lady. Once I have the kittens settled in for the night, I close the barn up and turn off the light. When I step out into the darkness, I take in a deep breath of the cool, lake air. It's a beautiful night. The wind is almost nonexistent, the sky is clear and full of stars, and I can smell a bonfire or two around the lake. I glance down to the dock to look at all the lights from around the lake shimmering on the smooth water when I notice someone sitting on the dock. Griff just left and his parents have gone in for the night.

I start to walk that way out of curiosity; I can't imagine who'd be out here at this time of night. As I approach the dock, I can see that it's a girl and I'm shocked by who I think it might be. I walk carefully along the dock so that I don't make any noise and disturb her. She sits on the wooden bench seat on the wider portion of the platform dock. When I'm standing just to the side and behind her, I lean forward slightly to confirm my suspicion.

“Brynn?” I ask even though I can clearly see that it's, in fact, her. “What are you doing out here?” I haven't seen her down here, let alone on this road, other than for some family functions in, well, years. What the hell is she up to?

She tips her chin up toward me and smiles. She actually smiles! “Haylee Jo!” she exclaims and holds up a thermos as if to give a toast with it. Her big, brown eyes seem glassy and she seems much happier than I've seen her in a long time. “Come sit with me,” she says, patting the bench beside her. I feel like I'm suddenly in the Twilight Zone or something. She usually calls me 'bitch' or 'slut' which is ironic because those words better describe her than me. She takes a sip from the thermos and the smell of alcohol floats up to my nose. And that explains her condition.

“What are you up to, Brynn?” I ask her with a quirk of my brow. Her honey brown colored hair hangs rather limply around her shoulders and strands of it hang down in front of her face, but she seems oblivious.

“Sit, Haylee. I won't bite,” she giggles and I cautiously sit down on the wooden slats of the bench and immediately get the chills. I'm waiting for someone to jump out at me or for something to pop out of the water and scare the shit out of me. But I don't see anything but Brynn being nice. “I was just reminiscing,” she murmurs and sips from the thermos again. She holds it out to offer me some.

“What is it?” I asks. There's no way in hell I will drink something that she gives me whether I am watching her drink it herself or not.

“Tequila,” she giggled.

I cringe at the thought of drinking straight tequila. “No thanks. I'm good,” I reply.

“I know you are, Haylee,“ she sighs. “I wish I was more like you.”

“What?” I ask and I'm sure my face is utterly shocked. Brynn is beautiful. She is slightly taller than I am with long legs and a slim waist. The boys at school went crazy over her, probably because they knew she put out too, but still. Even older men would approach her, assuming her to be older than eighteen.

“You're so lucky.” This is just getting stranger and stranger. How am I lucky? My dad is dead, my cousin who'd been one of my best friends for years now treats me like a pariah, one of my other best friends who's become my boyfriend has gone off to California again.

“Why do you think I'm lucky?” I ask her. The alcohol has mellowed her out and she really doesn't appear to be trying to trick me or do something to me. She seems like she really wants to talk.