Page 1 of Second Chances

On his son’s wedding day, Henry considered three women in his life, all of whom he had loved, and all of whom were taking up space in his head. The first woman he had naively loved as a teenager, and even though he had worshipped her and would have done anything for her, she had never returned his affection. The second woman had broken his heart, devastating him, and even though they had made a life together, she never trusted his love, abandoning him and their son after years of discontent. Having endured a lifetime of loneliness, Henry’s world had finally opened with the magic promise of the woman he had fallen in love with, a woman he suspected would love him in return.

“Hey,” Charlotte whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “You promised me the first slow dance, remember?” Arms circled him from behind, and he groaned as she pressed her generous curves into his back. “I suppose it’s too soon for us to go back to my place, but I am in desperate need of your body. Dancing will have to do.” She nipped his earlobe. “For now.”

Still stunned he had caught this alluring woman’s attention, Henry cupped her cheeks in his hands after turning to face her. “Who said it was too soon?” His mouth captured hers, and he savored the taste of wedding cake and champagne on her lips, making him want her more. Was it too soon to leave? he wondered.

Shivering as Charlotte’s manicured fingernails scratched a line down his back underneath his suit jacket, Henry deepened their kiss. To his dismay, his date pulled away with a laugh. “Well, for one thing, I think your son would have an issue if his dad disappeared. Especially before you danced with your new daughter-in-law, which they announced would be the next dance.” Her gentle fingertips smoothed his hair from his forehead. “Where were you, anyway? The lead singer called for you, but you weren’t here.”

“Sorry about that,” Henry flushed, wanting more than anything to confess where he had been, but he couldn’t. Doing so would put a damper on what should be a joyous event and potentially strain their budding relationship, because he had been keeping the truth from Charlotte. “I was helping one of the servers in the parking lot. His car battery was dead and needed a jump.” All true, but he withheld the painful phone call he had just ended with his ex-wife. The same ex-wife whom Charlotte believed he wasn’t in contact with. Taking her hand in his, he pressed a kiss to the top of it. “What was that about a dance?”

As Charlotte led him to the dance floor, they passed by the parents of his son’s bride. Unable to avoid it, Henry caught the eye of the bride’s mother. She, too, had been in the parking lot…she had been the reason he had found himself in the parking lot. “Henry, I need to speak with you, please,” she had implored after the bride and groom had their first dance. He hadn’t told Charlotte about that, either.

Twirling Charlotte, Henry replicated a move he had learned watching his own parents at other weddings. Not his own, of course; his wedding had taken place at the county courthouse when he was eighteen. To shut out past pain, Henry closed his eyes while his lips grazed the top of Charlotte’s head. When his eyelids lifted, the mother-of-the-bride was in his line of sight, studying him. His phone vibrated in his pocket, demanding his attention. Why couldn’t he just be allowed to savor this moment with Charlotte, a woman who had done nothing but freely express her feelings for him? The only woman Henry had never had to chase, never had to convince that he could be the right man for, Charlotte was sunshine, brightness, and laughter; later tonight, he planned to confess his love to her.

Henry’s son, who had not had an easy life but had come through every challenge stronger than before, cut in, asking to dance with Charlotte. Henry then swept the bride across the dance floor, an honor he’d been looking forward to all day. When the band played a song that brought the younger people to the dance floor, he hugged his new daughter-in-law before sidling over to the bar for a whiskey sour.

From the outskirts of the wedding dance, Henry marveled at the number of people in attendance celebrating the marriage of Josh and Effie. His pocket buzzed again. Against his better judgment, he brought his phone out, slipping out the side exit of the reception area to read the message. His ex-wife. Again. Why couldn’t she just leave them in peace? Why couldn’t he ignore her? After silencing her earlier, guilt had forced him to reverse his decision, an action he regretted almost immediately.

I need a chance to explain—you owe me that much. I am begging you to please call me.

There is something you need to know—tonight!!!

Please. Just call me and I won’t bother you again. I promise.

Henry, if I ever meant anything to you, you will call me back. Please.

If she ever meant anything to him? Was she serious? She had been everything—it had been Henry who had never been enough for her. Frowning, he pocketed his phone, putting an end to the games she insisted on playing, intent on getting back to Charlotte, who he was sure would again be missing his presence by now.

“Hi…Henry.” A voice spoke from behind, one he barely heard over the band inside the building.

In confusion, he blinked at the young woman, vaguely familiar to him. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” He was positive he didn’t, but there was something about her. Maybe it was her sky-blue eyes or her light-blonde hair?

She smiled tremulously. “Yes…I mean, no, you don’t know me…but we spoke earlier.”

“Oh, yes—Sophie, right?” Now he recalled her introducing herself to him after the wedding, as the photographer took wedding photos. “I’m sorry, it’s been a busy day,” he explained, perplexed why this young lady would have sought him out today, not once, but twice. “Can I help you?”

“I think so.” She opened and closed her mouth several times but remained silent.

He waited patiently for her to continue. The door opened behind him, and someone else said, “Henry, please, can we finish our talk?”

Glancing over, he held up his hand to the intruder, shaking his head “no” in response. Looking back to Sophie, he said, “I’m sorry,” but she was gone, as quickly as she had appeared, leaving him confused. Adding her to the list of women on his mind, he returned to the wedding dance.

Charlotte Berg and her best friend, Amy, were on their way to the Black Hills in South Dakota for a long weekend, blasting Linda Ronstadt and singing “You’re No Good” at the top of their lungs. Only one week since Charlotte finalized her divorce, and Amy insisted on getting her out of Iowa and out of her own head, declaring that Deadwood was the best place to do so. “You won’t be able to hear a thing above the noise of the slot machines. And when you’re playing blackjack, all you’ll care about will be hitting twenty-one!” Charlotte, too emotionally raw to resist, was now anticipating a weekend of senseless fun.

Amy, always the adventure-seeker, was traveling only state highways for the drive north and then west, when the women encountered the quaint town of Beverley. “Lottie, how do you feel about stopping for lunch somewhere here?”

Surprised by the growling of her stomach, Charlotte answered, “Perfect,” and meant it. Since the divorce, her appetite had been almost nonexistent; today, however, it was making a welcome comeback.

Amy waved her arm out her open window. “It’s like we drove onto the set of Gilmore Girls or something, right?” Brick buildings with intricately carved wooden cornices dotted Main Street, and the library to Charlotte’s right was particularly spectacular, with columns supporting the gabled roof at the top of the wide staircase. A copper dome adorning the top of the library acted almost as a beacon to book lovers, or anyone craving the quiet sanctuary of the historic building.

They navigated their way through Beverley, and Charlotte pointed out a gazebo in the town park. “Oh, look at that! Isn’t it charming? Can you imagine sitting there, on a gorgeous day like today, reading a book?”

As her friend glanced over, she snickered. “Right, Lottie, it looks like they’re getting a lot of reading done.” Once they got closer, Charlotte spotted the two bodies Amy was joking about, entwined on a bench in the gazebo. Dark blond hair mixed with jet black, the couple’s passion was palpable across the park.

“I can’t even remember what it’s like to be that in love,” Charlotte confessed when they stopped at a red light.

“For the record, I’m not sure you ever were that in love,” Amy responded, as only a best friend of forty-five years could. “I mean—we can talk about this now, right?”

“Yes, we can talk about it!” Charlotte’s terse response earned her a side glance from Amy. A deep breath helped calm her. “I don’t know why everyone feels like they have to tiptoe around my divorce. People get divorced every day.” And they did—Charlotte just never imagined that she would be one of them. Then again, she had also never imagined she and her ex-husband Brady would last as long as they had, either. “You know, I was unhappy for so long being married that I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t been. I convinced myself that I regretted it from day one.” When Charlotte got pregnant her senior year in high school, both her parents and Brady’s assumed the teenagers would get married. Without missing a beat, he proposed, and a month after the couple’s high school graduation, they tied the knot in a small ceremony. “Remember how everyone kept calling it a shotgun wedding?”