Second Chances (6 page)

She stood, brushing off the back of her jeans.  Pulling her strap of her purse onto her shoulder and clutching her keys in her hand, she looked down once more at the stone marker.

"Bye, guys.  Love you bunches." 

With those final words she headed home, picturing in her mind how to share the news with her husband.  She decided to wait—tell him at the lodge.  It would make the perfect Christmas present, closing a chapter on the past and beginning a new one, one with hope for the future. 

A
week later, Quin stood just beyond the lodge’s entryway doors, out of direct sight and watched the couple climb from the limousine stopped at the entry to Destiny’s Desire Lodge. 
Good.
 
They’re here.
   Rubbing his palms against his pant leg, he frowned at the sign of discomposure.  He’d done this a thousand times and likely would a thousand more.  Yet each time was different, each couple unique.

This particular couple strode through the lobby, the swish of the automated doors closing with a whispered hush behind them.  He watched the man catch the woman’s hand in his, bring it to his lips and brush a soft kiss against her knuckles with a tender smile. 

Quin sauntered across the carpeted floor toward the reception desk as though he owned the place.  Which he did.  Careful not to interrupt the man and woman checking into their suite; the honeymoon suite reserved especially for them.   When they finished signing in and were handed their key card, he stepped forward.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jackson?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.  "I’m Quinton Chase, the owner of Destiny’s Desire Lodge.  Welcome."

"Thanks, Mr. Chance."  Ryan’s voice was warm but cautious.  "I’m . . . we’re still not exactly sure why we’re here.  My friend, who made all the arrangements, was a little vague about everything." 

"You’re speaking of Mr. Stone, I assume?  Indeed, he and I communicated about your stay.  Let me assure you, everything has been taken care of.  Anything you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to let me or my staff know." 

Quin looked across the lobby, pretending something caught his attention.  "If you’ll excuse me, again, enjoy you stay."

Walking away, he felt their stare like a physical touch, questioning and yet accepting of the situation.  He sensed the uncertainty behind Mrs. Jackson’s eyes, but the waves of pain emanating from her husband—the grief tore at him.  Even after two years, the wound of loss lay open like a jagged cut, bone deep.  Terry had been right, Ryan needed to be here, to accept and move forward.  He hoped the next few days did the trick.  By helping the Jackson’s he helped himself as well, one more payment on the soul debt he owed The Fates.  In this instance, though, it was a price he willingly paid.  He’d liked Terry and his wife when they’d stayed here two years earlier, their happiness an almost palpable thing, whipping against his psyche when he realized their destiny. 

Love was a strong emotion, probably one of the strongest there was, and he prayed theirs was strong enough to endure the events to come. 

Opening his office door, the ever efficient Marcia sat at her desk, typing away on the computer while talking softly into the phone headset she wore.  Her salt and pepper hair belied her age.  She’d been with him and the Lodge for a very a long time, but her debt was nearly paid.  Once it was, she would be moving along, and he’d have to start all over again with the next poor unfortunate assigned into his care. 

"Mr. Chase?" 

He turned toward Marcia at the sound of her voice.  A slight smile turned up the corners of her mouth as if she read his thoughts. 
Knowing her, she probably could,
he thought.

"Our guests have arrived."  He gestured toward the lobby.  "Please make sure chilled champagne is sent to the honeymoon suite."

"It was delivered to the suite five minutes ago, along with chocolate-covered strawberries as well as fresh flowers."

"Efficient as always.  My right hand.  What will I do without you?"

She smiled, swiveling her chair around to continue typing, fingers flying across the computer keyboard.  "You’ll do just fine.  This place practically runs itself.  Your staff is extremely well trained."   She paused, really looking at him, her stare a bit disconcerting.   "Try to get some rest, Mr. Chase.  It’s Christmas Eve—it’s going to be a long night."  

"Yes, it is."  He glanced through the open doorway at the now empty lobby.  One misstep, one wrong move, and four souls would be tormented, not just in this life but for all eternity. 

# # #

The woods surrounding the lodge were beautiful, the ground coated in a frosty shimmer as muted sunlight glistened atop the packed snowfall.  Frosted white clumps coalesced on the pine boughs, creating a picture perfect postcard setting, yet Ryan only took a half-hearted interest in the splendor of his surroundings.

They’d checked into Destiny’s Desire earlier that morning, and he’d encouraged Rose to take advantage of the spa package that was part and parcel of their stay.  She headed to the sauna for the rest of the afternoon, agreeing to meet him back at their room before dinner.  A message with special dinner reservations had been in their room when they’d checked in, along with champagne and an assortment of things that would make any newlyweds blush. 

He felt antsy, hated being in this place where his life had changed just two short years previous.  The pathway alongside the road leading up to the lodge was partially covered with the fresh fallen snow, his feet damp and cold but he ignored them, continuing to trudge along, lost in his thoughts.

Was it a mistake to come here?  Jake meant well, I know it.  Maybe it is time to say good-bye.
 

"It happened right over there."  Ryan spun round at the deep voice behind him, his foot slipping beneath him.  He caught his balance and his gaze took in Quinton Chase standing a few feet behind him.

"I’m sorry, what?"

"The accident.  See the big pine right there?"  He pointed across the road toward a cluster of trees, one standing several feet higher than the rest.

"Terry and Sharon died right over there." 

"You knew Terry?"  Ryan took a step toward Chase before he stopped himself.

"Not well, but we talked a bit when he first arrived.  Not too much, of course.  They
were
on their honeymoon.  He and Sharon seemed happy together."

"They were.  Over-the-moon happy.  Filled with so much joy.  Terry was happier than I’ve ever seen him.  He loved Sharon more than anything."  Ryan looked around, lifted his face upward, staring at the lightly falling snow.

"Our childhood wasn’t the greatest, you know?  Dad left when Terry was little.  He really didn’t remember him.  Mom worked two jobs to put a roof over our heads, but she was always there when we needed her.  Terry was special; she always said so."  Ryan grimaced at the way the words came out.

"Don’t get me wrong.  She loved us both equally, I know that.  Hell, even as a kid I knew Terry was special.  There was something about him people gravitated toward.  An inner glow, something I can’t describe.  He always wanted to help other people."

"Kind of the way you do, Mr. Jackson?  You’re a firefighter, after all." 

"It’s not the same thing."  Ryan shook his head.  "Terry got great grades, was a terrific athlete.  He even got recruitment letters from division one colleges to play baseball with offers for a full scholarship.  But he wanted to be a doctor, more than anything.  Medicine was his life, his dream, until he met Sharon.  In that one instant, everything changed for him." 

Ryan walked a couple of steps and turned back to Quin.  He wasn’t sure why he was telling him all this—but it felt important for him to know.  "I remember him coming by the condo the day after he met Sharon.  After one day he
knew
she was the one.  His other half he called her.  His soul mate.  I understood because that’s how I felt about my Rosie." 

Ryan started across the street and noted Quin crossed with him.  He stopped at the spot Quin had pointed out moments earlier.

"Were you here the night of the accident?"

"I was at the lodge working on the books in my office, so yes, I was here that night.  It was a stupid, senseless accident.  The driver of the car skidded on the ice and spun out.  Your brother and his wife were killed instantly when the driver lost control.  The driver was killed too."

"Damn drunken idiot!"  Teeth clenched in anger, Ryan’s hands fisted at his side.

"No, he wasn’t drunk."

Ryan swung around with a snarl, getting right up in Quin’s face.  "That’s a damn lie.  The police officer who notified us said the driver reeked of alcohol.  There were broken liquor bottles inside the car.  Bastard never should have been on the road."

"I knew him and his family, Ryan.  He hadn’t been drinking that day.  The autopsy showed there was no alcohol in his system.  He’d gone to pick up supplies he’d ordered for a Christmas party his family was throwing.  The store owner was a friend who’d met him with the liquor he’d ordered a week earlier.  The broken bottles, the stench of alcohol, all happened during the accident. 

He hit a patch of black ice and lost control.  It was dusk outside, almost dark.  The desk clerk said Terry and Sharon had gone for a walk before dinner.  It was Christmas, hardly any traffic on the roads.  Nobody could have predicted what would happen."  Quin’s voice was soft, the words spoken with a sincerity Ryan could feel in his gut and the soul-rending anger eased a bit.  He took a step back.

"I never heard about the autopsy report.  The police officer said the driver was drunk.  When the driver died in the accident, too, there was nobody to blame, to hold accountable for snuffing out the lives of two vital, brilliant people."

"So, since there was nobody else to blame, you’ve taken all the guilt on yourself, haven’t you?" 

Ryan inwardly flinched at the words.  Despite his efforts to hide his feelings, Quin read him well.   He hadn’t had anybody to punish, to lash out at, to blame. 

"I didn’t know Terry well, but I’m sure he wouldn’t want you mired in a cycle of self-blame and recriminations for something you had no control over.  You weren’t here.  Even if you had been, you couldn’t have prevented the accident; nobody could have."

"They wouldn’t have been up here if we hadn’t given them the trip . . ."

"Ryan, you aren’t God.  You have no control over the fate of anyone but yourself." 
And sometimes not even then,
Quin thought.  "It’s fatalistic to say but when your time is up, it doesn’t matter where you are or who you’re with.  You can’t run.  You can’t hide.  Sharon and Terry were together, which is what I’m sure they would have wanted in the end, if they’d been able to make a choice."

Quin placed his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, and Ryan took a deep breath, absorbing the words Quin had spoken. 

"It’s Christmas Eve, Ryan.  A season for forgiveness and peace.  Maybe you should talk to Terry.  This seems like a good place for it."  Quin raised his hand and gestured around him.  "I’ll let your wife know you’ll be back in time for dinner.  Look deep inside, Ryan, and find a way to forgive yourself." 

Quin stepped away and walked back toward the lodge.  Ryan listened to the sound of ice crunching under the man’s booted feet.  The wind gusted suddenly around him, the sun moved behind a bank of clouds, and a chill snaked down his spine.  

Maybe I should try, he thought.  He and Terry had always been able to talk about anything, anytime.  One more conversation and this time Terry couldn’t argue back. 

Bro, maybe he’s right.  I’ve been so wrapped up in finding somebody or something to strike out at, to make sense of losing you.   I never really stopped to think about the bigger picture—that when God calls us home, we don’t have any choice.  We must answer regardless of who we are.

Rose carries her own guilt and I’ve added to that with my selfishness.  I didn’t mean to, only losing you nearly killed me. 

Kids—remember how we talked about starting families.  You were going to have two and I always said I wanted three.  Houses in the same neighborhood so the kids could be raised together and get to play just like we did. 

We were going to grow old, argue over sports, and take family vacations together.  Now it’s all gone and I feel lost.  Driven to strike out at somebody or something and there’s nothing there. 

I’M ANGRY, DAMMIT! You were invincible, indestructible!   Perfect job, perfect wife.  Everything was golden and I was so proud.  Everything I always wanted for you came true . . .then it was gone.  YOU were gone. 

Did you know?  How much I loved you?  My kid brother with the scraped knees, the broken arm, the snotty nose.  I always watched out for you when you were little.  When Jeremy Green punched you after school when you were eight, and you didn’t back down from him even though he was bigger and older; I wanted to protect you even then but I had to let you fight your own battles, make your own way.  You paved your own path and I was so proud and so happy.  My heart nearly burst when you graduated from medical school.  When you finished your residency.  All the things you wanted, the choices you made, the roads you took—please say you knew how I wanted those things for you too.  

Now you’re gone and I’m still here.  I’ve got Rosie and I love her more than my next breath, she’s my whole world.  The sun wouldn’t shine if she wasn’t in my life.  She keeps me grounded in so many ways, keeps my feet firmly planted in the here and now. 

Everybody tells me I’m not letting go, that I haven’t said good-bye to you.  I guess in a way they’re right.  Good-bye has a finality to it that’s an unacceptable choice.  You will always be a part of me with a bond even death can’t sever.  So I won’t say good-bye.  Just. . .I’ll see you later.  Love you, brother mine.  Be happy and be at peace with your Sharon. 

Ryan reached up and scrubbed his hands over his face, unashamed of the tears he knew had fallen.  They were cathartic cleansing tears and he felt better for having shared this time with his brother.  Tilting his head back, he looked up at the sky.  The sun moved from behind the clouds and warmth spread through him, filling his spirit with healing and light.  For the first time in two years Ryan experienced something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.  Peace.