Second Chances (3 page)

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A knock on his front door interrupted the all important task of finishing up his lunch dishes.  Glad for the interruption, Jake sauntered from the kitchen down the hall to the entryway, drying his hands as he went.  A delivery man waited on the other side, clipboard in hand with a sealed envelope.  Dashing off a quick signature, Jake took the bulky letter and walked into the living room.   He plopped down into his overstuffed recliner, and kicked the footrest up before looking at the return address.  Didn’t recognize the name, but it had a Colorado return address so it was from somebody local.

Grasping the perforated seal, he zipped the cardboard envelop open, pulled free the contents and tossed the empty packaging on the coffee table.  He stared at second sealed manila envelope in his hand, gave it a quick perusal.  There wasn’t any writing on the outside.  With a mental shrug, he unfolded the heavy embossed single sheet of stationery that accompanied it and began reading.

Dear Mr. Stone:

Let me begin by introducing myself.  My name in Quinton Chase and I own Destiny’s Desire Lodge.  I’ll get right to the point; you knew Terry Jackson well, so I’m going to be blunt.  He wants his brother, Ryan, to come here.   

His brother is grieving.  Guilt is tearing him up inside and it has to stop.  So here’s what I propose. 

I’m enclosing tickets for two to the Lodge—all expenses paid, beginning on December twenty-fourth.  That’s right, Christmas Eve.  

I really don’t care how you get them here, just get them here.  Tell them it’s an early Christmas present from you.  Tell them it was a prize, a free give-away.  Whatever it takes, have them here by the twenty-fourth. 

Yes, Mr. Stone, I know this request sounds crazy.   I’ve heard it before.   But in case you think I’m just another nut-job, Terry said to tell you one word. 
Cassandra
. 

Call me when you’ve given Ryan the tickets and I’ll take care of everything else on this end.  Don’t let me down, Mr. Stone.

Quinton Chase.

Jake’s heart froze when he read that single word toward the end of the letter. 
Cassandra.
Closing his eyes, the heartbeat stuttered in his chest.  With deliberate effort he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, pushing the air through his lungs in an attempt to calm his racing heartbeat.  Impossible.  Nobody knew about Cassandra except Ryan and . . . Terry.   He’d never even told Rose, except in passing when she’d tried to pry into why he wasn’t married.  Terry must have told this Quinton Chase about Cassandra. 
Why?

He missed her so much, every day it still filled him with an aching despair that wrenched at his heart.  Ten years she’d been gone, lost to him forever, yet each morning when he awoke the pain was almost more than he could bear.  People say the loss and pain fade, replaced by happier memories of the person who died, but for Jake each day became a living reminder she wasn’t here with him anymore.  Ten years and he hadn’t been able to forget her, the girl she’d been, on the verge of becoming the woman she’d been meant to be. 

Leafing through the packet of information that came with the letter, he found hotel room confirmations, lift tickets, a spa package, as well as information on a chauffeured limousine that would drive Ryan and Rose to their destination.  It looked like Chase hadn’t left anything to chance, all the bases covered. 

Should he do it?
  He pondered the question a moment before standing and going into his spare bedroom, the one he called his junk room.  Digging through the crap piled high in the closet, he found an old shirt gift box still filled with tissue paper from his birthday.  He’d pulled out the gift and obviously tossed the box—paper and all—into the closet afterwards.  Shoving more things aside, he couldn’t find any wrapping paper, but that didn’t really matter.  Snatching a bow from another box, he stuck it to the top of the shiny white cardboard.  It would have to do.

With deliberate precision he stacked all the papers Quinton Chase sent and placed them in the box, smoothed out the tissues paper as best he could before closing the lid.  Tape, where the hell did he put the tape?  Okay, on top of the dresser.  Good.   

With a final look at the package, he laughed.  It looked exactly like what it was.  Somebody’s attempt at wrapping with secondhand crap.  Oh, well, it would do.

Glancing at his watch he realized he had some time to kill before he and Ryan went on their annual trek to find Rose her perfect Christmas tree.  Pausing by the front door, he tossed the package onto the hall table.  He’d find a way to give it to them tonight.  Somehow. 

"I don’t know who you are, Quinton Chase, but you better not screw this up." 

R
ose stared at her sister, eyes widened in shock at the words she’d just heard.  She thumped her glass of ice tea down onto the tabletop with enough force to rattle the carefully aligned silverware.

"You did not just say that!"

"Yes, I did."  Kate stared back at her, not backing down from the angry glare Rose shot her.  "Consider the facts."

"The fact is
my husband
is not having an affair!" 

"Come on, sister, read between the lines here.  He’s moody, distant even.  He’s working late all the time.  He never wants to spend time with any of his friends anymore.  When he is home, well . . ." Kate’s voice trailed off.

"He is not having an affair."  Rose’s voice ground out between clenched teeth, lowered to a whisper as she glared at her sister, who also happened to be her best friend.  Taking a calming breath, she rubbed at the twinge of pain between her eyes, the beginnings of a headache starting to pound a tattooed rhythm beneath her skull. 

"Ryan’s grieving for his brother.  It’s been almost two years.  His death just hit him so hard—it’s as if he can’t get past it."  Tears welled up and threatened to spill from her eyes and she blinked rapidly, steeling herself not to cry. 

"He won’t admit it but I think he feels, I don’t know, guilty maybe, because they wouldn’t have been at Destiny’s Desire Lodge, if we hadn’t sent them on a honeymoon there.  It’s eating at him and I don’t know what to do to help.  I feel helpless, too, because I pushed really hard for that honeymoon.  They wanted to wait until they could go to Greece, but I wanted them to at least have a long weekend away.  It was their wedding night—they couldn’t just stay home at their apartment.  It didn’t seem right." 

Around and around she twisted the napkin she’d laid across her lap, creasing it, unable to keep her hands still as she continued.

"I’m torn between needing to wrap my arms around him and shield him from the world and wanting to grab him and shake him, tell him it’s not his fault."

"Have you tried talking to him about it?  Maybe suggest some counseling?"

Rose sighed.  "Whenever I try to bring up Terry and Sharon, he changes the subject.   It’s getting worse, Kate.  I’m not sure what to do."  

"What does Jake think?  Has he noticed a change in Ryan, too?" 

Rose watched a faint pink blush come across her sister’s cheeks when she mentioned Jake’s name.  They’d gone out a couple of times and Rose wished they’d made a go of it, but things never seemed to click for them.  She knew Kate wanted more, but Jake had his own demons to deal with.  He still wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, and her sister was through with only being good enough for a booty call but never for the long term.   They’d remained friends though, which made things easier since Jake was Ryan’s best friend and Kate was her sister. 

"Jake’s been pretty mum about things, too, especially for the last few weeks.  I know they talk, but he’s not telling me anything.  I can tell he’s worried about Ryan though." 

Kate reached across the table and squeezed Rose’s hand.  "You’ll both get through this.  It’s this damn time of year.  Everything’s so shiny and sparkly and people are supposed to be so freaking happy.  Drives me nuts."

Rose laughed out loud at the scrunched up face her sister made.  Kate didn’t fool her one bit; she loved the holidays, went totally overboard shopping for and buying presents for everybody she knew.   Rose was a homebody, preferring to hand-make things like cookies and cakes as gifts.  Her sister—not so much—she was all about the shopping.

Kate’s face got serious.  "I miss them both too.  Terry was the best, always laughing and joking with his patients.  His colleagues all admired him.  When he met Sharon, though, I don’t know how to explain it—he just came alive.  She was his world—his everything."

"I know."  Rose’s softly murmured agreement passed between them and she smiled, remembering how happy Terry had been.  Sharon, too.  She’d once told Rose one look was all it took for her to know Terry was her soul mate.  Rose understood that, it was the same with her and Ryan.  One look and it was like the world had been slightly off-kilter before and now everything clicked into place around her. 

"I want that, you know.  What they had.  What you and Ryan have.  I’m kinda jealous."  Kate passed it off as a joke but Rose heard the underlying yearning behind the words.  She wanted that for her sister, too.   

"It’ll happen when it’s the right time.  You’ll find your special someone and you’ll know." 

"Yeah, yeah."  Kate smiled at her sister.  "You sure your husband’s not cheating?  Playing Mr. Happy Zipper?"  Rose grabbed a roll out of the basket and tossed it at her sister’s head, chuckling as Kate caught it out of the air and laid it on the bread plate beside her water glass.

"Okay, then, let’s order.  I’m starving." 

E
choes of laughter filled the living space of the Jackson’s condo. Ryan and Jake struggled under the massive branches of the tree as they manhandled it through the open door.  The tree was bigger than the doorway and it was a tight squeeze but with lots of pushing, shoving and cursing, they finally got it inside.  Pine needles and globs of snow covered the floor by the time they accomplished their herculean task.

"Rose, where do you want this thing?"  Jake called out wondering where she was.

She stepped out of the kitchen drying her hands on a dish towel. There was a dab of flour on her cheek and wisps of long red hair escaped from her upswept ponytail to curl around her face.  The smell of freshly baked sugar cookies filled the condo.  At the enormity of the tree they’d chosen, she couldn’t hold back her laugh.

"Goodness gracious, Ryan, did you get the biggest tree they had?"

"Only the biggest for you, sweetheart."  He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Rose threw the towel at him.

"Hey!"

"Jake, take this Neanderthal and his giant tree into the living room.  I’ve got the stand set up by the big window on the other side of the fireplace.  

"Yes, ma’am."  Jake gave her a mock salute before grabbing the top portion of the tree from the floor where it rested supported against his lower leg.  "You heard the lady, Neanderthal.  To the living room."

"Shut up, jackass."  Ryan picked up the base of the tree, motioning for Jake to precede him. 

Supporting the weight of the tree he helped carry, Jake laughed at the sarcasm in Ryan’s remark.  He shifted his end of the tree toward the large bay window at the front of the condo.  The tree stand was right where Rose said it was and between him and Ryan they wrestled the tree into the stand, screwing in the brackets to hold it in place.  Once upright, the tree nearly touched the roof.  They might have to trim it to get the topper attached. 

Maybe they had gone a little overboard when picking out this particular tree.  Ryan had been a little down in the dumps, so Jake joked and cajoled, picking out the most pathetic and scrawny trees and tried to get him to pick one of those to take home to Rose.

Ryan finally picked out this monster of a Scotch pine, its dark green boughs full and the shape perfect.  The scent of the forest filled the living space.  The tree sat in the water-filled tree stand, and the branches relaxed, spreading out as the netting that wrapped it was cut loose. 

"Be careful of those boxes of ornaments."  Rose’s voice carried from the kitchen and both men looked at the mountain of boxes stacked on the sofa and chair.  Even more piles of garland and tinsel were mounded on the floor. 

"Is she planning to put all of these on this tree?"  Jake looked from the boxes to the tree and back to the boxes.  "No way in hell they’ll all fit."

"Trust me, they’ll fit.  Somehow she does it every year.  The tree will look amazing by the time she’s finished."  Ryan’s voice filled with pride, his love so apparent for Rose it almost hurt for Jake to hear it.  He wanted something like that for himself, a special someone to make him complete.  He’d come close once . . .

Rose walked in with a tray in her hands and Jake rushed forward to take it, nudging aside a few of the ornament-filled boxes stacked on the sofa.  When they tumbled to the floor, he gently pushed them aside with his foot and set the tray down on the coffee table.

"Cookies?  We get to eat cookies early?"  Ryan’s childlike tone had Jake and Rose laughing. 

"Since you both worked so hard getting the tree for me, I’ll let you have a couple early."  

Ryan grabbed Rose around the waist, lifted her off her feet and swung her around, then kissed her quickly before snatching up a frosted star with sprinkles across it, shoving the entire thing in his mouth.  Jake reached for a bell-shaped cookie covered with red frosting.  Both men groaned aloud as the sweetness of fresh baked cookies and frosting hit their taste buds and Rose grinned. 

This is how it should always be for them.
  Jake’s thoughts sobered him for a moment and he shook his head at his thoughts.  Ryan had retreated further and further away the last few months, the dreams taking an alarming toll.  He admitted it; he was worried about his friend.  Thoughts of the wrapped package upstairs in his condo had him doubting his judgment in agreeing to go along with Quinton Chase’s plan.