Second Chances (15 page)

“What do we do now?” Rico asked.

He was sitting backwards on one of the dining room chairs, straddling
it and leaning his arms against the back rest. He wasn’t crying, but his eyes
were red and puffy and his voice wasn’t steady.

“I don’t know,” Nichole said, leaning against the counter. She
had been crying since hanging up with Richard earlier and felt empty now, like
she was drained of all of her tears.

The news of her mother’s death was like an open wound, raw
and painful.  The worst part was that it had been so long, so damned
long,
since
her mother had gone missing and they were just now finding out about it.

Her anger had ebbed away.  Now she just wanted to crawl into
a hole and be alone.

“Should we call that cop back?”

“Rico…I…”

“We at least need to know where she was buried, right?  So
we can go to her grave and leave some flowers.”

“Flowers? How are flowers going to help?”

Rico only stared at her.  “We need to figure out what the
tombstone says, so we can get it changed as well.”

 Nichole sighed.  “Yeah. You’re right. I just…Can we wait
until tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Rico said.  “Yeah, we’ll do it tomorrow.”

As soon as Nichole had gotten ahold of Rico he had dropped
everything and come over.  They had sat together as a family, trying to explain
everything to their younger siblings. Telling Kenni and Tyler that their mother
was never coming home was a lot harder than it seemed, however, since they were
still trying to figure it out for themselves.

The only thing they both knew for sure was that they were
all still a family.  Nichole, Rico, Kenni, and Tyler. Nothing would change
that, and no matter how bad things got they would always be there for each
other.

They had just finished putting their siblings to bed a few
minutes ago.  Tyler was still crying when he fell asleep, too exhausted to stay
awake any longer.  He understood most of it, but some things still didn’t make
sense to him.

Tomorrow they would all go to school and work and pretend
like nothing had happened. The world kept going, ignoring their grief and pain.
Nothing had changed, and their obligations were still the same. 

For Kenni, it was a sort of breaking point. She hadn’t
spoken a word during their entire family meeting, and as soon as she was
allowed to leave she fled to her room.  Nichole had heard her crying alone in
her room, but didn’t know how to console her.

“I had no idea,” Rico said, slamming his fist on the table. 
“I had no idea Mom was even sick.  You said she had cancer?”

“That’s what the officer said,” Nichole replied.  “Late
stage breast cancer.”

“Doesn’t that take a long time to happen?” he asked.

“It probably did,” Nichole said.  “She never went to the
doctor.”

“I wish I’d known, so I could have helped,” Rico said.  “But
I had no clue that anything was wrong. She seemed fine.  I mean, you didn’t
know something was up, did you?”

Nichole hesitated. Part of her was trying to reconcile that
exact question and find an acceptable answer.

She’d known something was wrong. Her mother had been in pain
or several years, and Nichole had known that it was a lot worse than her mother
let on.  But, her mother had hidden the pain away, refusing to speak of it or
acknowledge it.  Nichole had never pressed because she knew her mother didn’t
want her to.

If only she’d pushed a little harder and forced her mother
to see a doctor…

“No,” she said finally. “I didn’t know.”

And she hadn’t known. Not for sure.  Torturing herself over
what could have been wouldn’t change anything.  Right now, the only thing she
could do was look forward and figure out what came next.

“Do you work tomorrow?” Rico asked.

“I do,” she said.  “I called off tonight, so I’ll see if I
can work a double tomorrow.”

“You won’t need to work extra—”

“Mom’s gone, Rico,” Nichole interrupted, her voice more
harsh than intended. “It isn’t about getting by until she comes home anymore.
She’s never coming home, and it’s on us now.”

“I know, sis.”

“It isn’t just about survival anymore. We can’t just keep
getting by.  We need to fix this.”

Rico sighed.  “Yeah.”

“We still need to get Kenni and Tyler transferred.” 

“Did you ever talk to Richard?”

“He isn’t going to help,” Nichole said.  “And I don’t want
his help.”

“But maybe we can ask—”

“I don’t,” Nichole said quietly, “want his help.”

Rico was silent for a moment. “Okay.”

“We will save up enough money and hire another lawyer, and
in a few months we can get Kenni transferred.  I’m sure that after…”

She trailed off, hearing a soft knock at the front door. 
Rico looked toward the living room and then back at her, curious. 

“Who’s that?”

“No idea,” Nichole said.  “Anita?”

“She’s in bed. Has to work early tomorrow.”

“You didn’t tell her?”

“About Mom? Not yet,” Rico said.  “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

Another knock. 

“Do you think it’s that cop?” Nichole asked.

“Maybe,” Rico said with a shrug.  “I’ll get it.”

He headed through the living room, out of sight.  Nichole
heard the door open and then her brother said something. They spoke quietly,
too low for her to make out the words.

After a minute Rico appeared back in the kitchen.

“Come on,” he said.

“Is it that cop?”

“Just come on,” he said.

Nichole stood and followed him outside. They walked quietly,
not wanting to wake up their exhausted siblings. 

On the porch she saw two men waiting. One was Richard, and
the other one she didn’t recognize.  He was a skinny guy, dressed like a
college professor.

She narrowed her eyes as Rico led her outside, folding her
arms.

“What?” she asked Rico.

“He asked if he could talk to you for a minute,” Rico said.

“You should have said ‘no’.”

“Sis…”

“I’m here,” Nichole said, turning to Richard.  “What do you
want?”

“To apologize.”

“Oh well fine then,” Nichole said sarcastically. “Glad we
had this talk. We done?”

Richard ignored her. “I’m sorry for everything that happened
with your mother, and my part in the events leading up to and culminating in
today.”

“Very professional apology. We done?”

“And I wanted to offer you a job.”

“No thanks.”

“Sis…” Rico said.

“What?” Nichole asked Rico angrily. He cringed back from her
a little bit. “He wants to offer me a job because he feels bad for me and it
makes him feel bad. White guilt, so he wants to swoop in and save the day. Then
he gets to feel good for saving us. You want me to take the handout just so
things can get easier?”

“That’s not it,” Richard said.

“Then what is it?” Nichole said, turning back toward him. 
“Why else would you be here? We don’t need handouts.”

“I’m not offering a handout,” Richard said.  “And if you do
take this job, it’s going to be the hardest job you’ve ever done.  I’m offering
it to you because I know you can handle it.”

“You’re offering it because I’m black and my Mom is dead.”

“This morning, that might have been true,” Richard said. 
“But I’m not offering it because you are black or in spite of it.  I’m offering
it to you, Nichole Blake, because you are a brilliant young woman who is also
my friend.”

“Bullshit, we aren’t friends.”

“Yes we are,” Richard said.  “And I’m sorry that I didn’t
remember that this morning.”

Nichole was angry, but she felt that anger ebbing away.
Richard sounded different than when last they spoke. More sincere. Earlier,
when she brought up race, he had sounded unsure of himself, unsure in his
motives.

But now he sounded clear and confident in what he was saying.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I trust you and I know I can count on you.  I
refuse to define you as a black woman, because you are so much more than just
those two things. You’re one of the smartest and most loyal people I’ve ever
met, and my practice would benefit greatly from having you on staff.”

“This morning you didn’t want to help me,” Nichole said.
“Because it might jeopardize your career. What changed?”

“Everything,” Richard replied, “and nothing. This morning, I
didn’t have a clear grasp of what was important in my life.  I didn’t know
where I was heading or why I was heading there. I was just going through the
motions.”

“And now?”

Richard hesitated.  “I woke up,” he said.  “I’ve been
sleepwalking for years, making the right decisions for the wrong reasons.  Now,
I want to start making those decisions for the right reasons.  I want you to
come work for me, not as an intern but as an employee.  And I want it because
you are my friend.”

Nichole thought about it for a minute.  “You are sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life,”
Richard replied.  “I want to start focusing on the right things and deal with
the right problems.  I want a second chance.”

“A second chance to do what?” Nichole asked.

“To get things right,” he said.  “You don’t need to decide
right now if you want to take this job, and it’s open to you even if you never
want to forgive me, but my door is always open.  I’ve been an asshole in a lot
of things, and I have a lot of apologies to make, but the first one is
definitely yours. You came to me for help, and I wasn’t there for you when I
should have been.”

As he stopped speaking, all eyes turned to Nichole. She
stood in stunned silence for a second.

“I…I don’t know,” she said.  “Not yet, but I’ll think about
it.”

“That’s all I ask,” Richard replied. He turned to Rico and
offered his hand.  “You have my condolences.”

“Thanks.”

Rico shook his hand.  Then Richard introduced the other man
as his brother, and Rico shook his hand as well.  They headed back to their
car—a beat up yellow monstrosity—and disappeared down the road.

After they were gone, she headed back inside with Rico. 
“What do you think?” Rico asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“He wasn’t what I was expecting,” Rico said. “I thought he
would be taller.”

Nichole laughed.

“You should take the job,” Rico said.

“Why?”

“Because it would be a good job for you.  The guy wants to
help,” Rico said.  “So just cut him some slack.”

Nichole sighed. “Maybe.  I’ll have to think about it.”

The trip home breezed past. Richard was still lost in his
thoughts, and he didn’t know they were at his house until Jason said: “We’re
here.”  From the look on his face it seemed like he’d said it more than
once, too.

“What? Oh,” Richard replied, yawning.  He opened the
car door, then hesitated.  “How about you come in for a few minutes?”

Jason thought it over for a second and then nodded. “Sure.”

They headed into his house. It was quiet inside, his family
long since in bed.  Richard gestured for quiet with a finger over his
lips. “Hang on,” he whispered, then tiptoed into the living room. 

He grabbed a pair of cigars, slipped a checkbook into his
pocket, and then headed outside.  He used a punch on one and handed it to
Jason.

“Thanks,” his brother said. 

“Cubans,” Richard said.  “I guess we all have our
vices.”

Richard finished punching his own and then flicked his
lighter to life.  After a moment the air was filled with the smell of
burning tobacco.  Richard blew a few quick smoke rings and then chuckled.

“What?” Jason asked, dangling the cigar.

Richard sat on the edge of the porch.  “I can’t
remember the last time I blew smoke rings.”

“Oh?” Jason asked, sitting next to him on the concrete.
Richard puffed again and expelled the smoke.

“I remember how hard it was to learn in the first place, but
it’s one of those things you never really forget.  I practiced it forever
when I was younger.  I just haven’t really…thought about it I guess. 
One day I just stopped doing it.”

“I never even knew you smoked,” Jason said.

“In college,” Richard explained.  “I actually stopped
completely when Deborah got pregnant.  Now it’s just on special
occasions.”

“Special occasions?” Jason asked, then chuckled.  “I
suppose saying goodbye to my clinic qualifies.”  

Richard didn’t respond right away. He tried to think of the
last time he had just sat somewhere with his brother and enjoyed each other’s
company. Nothing came to mind.

They sat in stillness, just smoking and relishing the night
air.  Time slipped by.

“When you first built the clinic,” Richard said finally, his
voice low, “I could hardly believe it. You 
knew
 how much Dad
drank, of course, which was always why I assumed you did it.  I thought
you were doing it as a sort of monument to him.  I sort of…”

He paused, letting out a sigh.  

“I sort of wrote you out of my life because of it.  It
felt like a betrayal, like you wanted to help 
him,” 
Richard
said.  He shook his head.  “I’m not explaining myself very
well.  It was almost like I didn’t matter to you.”

“Of course you mattered to me.”

“I know,” Richard said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t really
a rational thought, and I never even actually consciously brought it up or
talked about it, even with Deborah.  It wasn’t something I really decided,
writing you out of my life. It just sort of happened. I let my own irrational
anger and memories from childhood get the best of me.”

Jason didn’t reply.  Another few moments ticked past.

“And I’m sorry for that.  It wasn’t fair of me and you
didn’t deserve it. You didn’t do anything wrong.  I just never really knew
how to cope. And when I can’t cope with something, I shelve it instead. 
Too much time has gone by, and I’m sorry I was never able to deal with my
problems.”

“Thank you,” Jason replied finally.  “But you don’t owe
me an apology.”

“I do though.  You couldn’t have known about those
things that happened to me. It was while you were still little.”

“I did know though,” Jason said, then shook his head. 
“I mean I didn’t really know or understand exactly what was happening, but I
did 
know
. Maybe not the full story or extent. I was terrified of Dad
for half my life because of...”

“Because of what?” Richard prompted.

“I had just turned four,” Jason explained.  “It was a
few weeks after my birthday and I was in bed.  I heard him come home and I
hid, pretending to be asleep.  You were downstairs watching some late
night show. I heard a loud thud and curiosity got the better of me, so I went
to see what it was. I sat at the top of the stairs, terrified, and I watched
him beat you.”

Jason turned toward Richard, and a tear streaked down his
little brother’s cheek.

“I watched you cry as he hit you, and I did nothing.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” Richard said.

“It doesn’t matter. I still should have done
something.  I should have yelled, called the police, 
anything.  
I
should have done something. But instead I just sat and watched, crying.”  

“He was mad because I yelled at Mom earlier in the day.
Something about not cleaning my room. She told him while he was at work so he
came home and just started hitting me, saying I’d better start behaving or
else.”

Seconds ticked on, the only sound the puffing and expelling of
smoke. He would regret it when his mouth tasted like ash for the next few
hours, but for now it helped to steady him.

“I did start the clinic because of him,” Jason said finally,
breaking the silence.  “But not because I wanted to help 
him
.
I hated him and I feared him for that.  He was never the one I wished I
could have helped.  He isn’t the one I 
should
 have
helped.”

Richard nodded.  “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” 

“We should have done this a long time ago,” Richard said,
then blew out a deep breath. “God, time passes so fast and you just don’t even
think about the things that you bottle up. The things that need to be said. And
then one day you wake up and realize how much time you’ve lost.”

“It’s both of our faults,” Jason said.  “I should have
said something to try and explain why I was working around alcoholics. Why I
chose 
this 
life instead of something else
.
”

“You did try to reach out.  I’m sorry I never really
took the clinic seriously.”

“It’s okay,” Jason replied.

“No, I mean it.  When we were growing up I always
thought you had a lot of potential. You loved to read and write and you were
always working on something. A lot more potential than I had. You were more
selfless.  You always wanted to help others, and you were able to make
people feel better.  People always laughed and felt good around you. 

“This clinic was your place, something simple to help as
many people as you could on a personal level. Those people tonight, they adore
you.  You make their lives better because you care about them.  You
are there for them. And I was never there for you.  You were suffering for
the last eight months and I was too selfish to notice or even care. 

 “I always thought you had the potential to be a good
man,” Richard finished: “I guess I just never noticed when you became a great
one.”

Richard set his cigar on the porch and pulled the checkbook
out of his pocket.

“How far are you behind on the payments?” he asked.

“What? Why?” Jason asked.

“I’ll file an injunction first thing in the morning to stall
this eviction and we’ll get a first makeup payment to the property owner as
soon as we can. Friday I’ll draft some paperwork at the office so we can take
the clinic on as an official goodwill effort. Our partners love putting things
like that on our firm’s resume when we shop for potential clients.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” Richard said. “We can’t give you much, but if
you ask around you should find enough other investors who can fully fund the
clinic without the government assistance. I’ll set you some meetings.”

He scribbled onto the check and handed it to Jason.

“That should keep you for a while until everything else goes
through,” Richard said, then chuckled, “with maybe a little left over to buy
real donuts every week.”

“Thank you,” Jason said.  “This means…I don’t even know
how to describe it.”

“Just keep taking care of people,” Richard said, standing
back up. Jason tamped out his cigar.  “And get some real coffee.”

“You don’t like my coffee?” Jason asked, smiling.

Richard laughed.  “It tastes like mud.”

Jason smiled.  “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“It’s not a problem,” Richard said.  “Thanks for
inviting me.  And I’ll definitely keep showing up, when I have time. If
that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Jason said. “You’re my brother. You are always
welcome.”  

They shook hands, then changed their minds and gave each
other a quick awkward hug.

“You did a good thing tonight,” Jason said.  “For Nichole.”

Richard shrugged.  “It took me too long to do the right
thing for the right reasons,” he said.  “So I’m not sure how much credit I deserve.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jason said.  “Everyone
deserves a second chance.”

“Thanks,” Richard said.

“Take care,” Jason said.

“You too.”

Jason headed to his car. A few seconds later it sputtered to
life, jostling its way down the road. Richard listened to it as the sound faded
away, leaving him alone on the porch.  

He looked up at the stars, feeling a peaceful sort of
serenity wash over him.  Right now, at this time and place, there wasn’t a
cloud in the sky.

“What a beautiful night."