Page 25 of Irresistible Second Chance

After we’d argued, I sent for an Uber and left. He hadn’t tried to stop me. In fact, he had been nowhere to be found, not that I had looked all that hard. Truthfully, I hadn’t looked for him at all. I’d gotten one phone call from him as I rode in the back of the Uber on my way to the airport. I let it ring to voicemail and then listened to it. He’d simply said, “So that’s it then. You’re just going to leave?”

I could hear the disappointment and hurt in his voice, but I ignored it and deleted his voicemail. He didn’t call me again. Not that I blamed him, what was the point?

I knew I had been right. He should have disclosed to me that Lucia had approached him for a job, but I ‘d been so hell bent on being self-righteous that I hadn’t heard him out. I had walked away from him, well ran away really, with a lot unsaid in between us. I should have handled that better, I thought to myself for the millionth time.

Not that I attempted to rectify the issue; my pride kept me from reaching out to him. What would I say? I was right, you were wrong, but I do care about you, so much so that it scares me. No, I couldn’t tell him that. I didn’t even trust that my feelings for him weren’t directly related to my divorce. What if I was just rebounding? I didn’t think I was, but what if I were? I didn’t want to hurt Chris because I didn’t know what I wanted.

I got to my car, thankful yet again for the handicap accommodations I now noticed for the first time in my life. One thing my broken foot had given me was perspective. I would never look at a flight of stairs or even an uneven sidewalk the same anymore. If I were a lobbyist, I would be lobbying congress right now about how many businesses and public spaces aren’t nearly handicap accessible enough.

Feeling grumpy, I tossed my crutches in the back of my car and got in. It was challenging driving but after a little trial and error, and a few tickets, I’d figured it out.

The door to my house was open when I arrived, and if I didn’t know Starr so well, I would have been alarmed that someone had broken in. However, I knew my sister was a little absent-minded, and she was innocent and believed the best in people. I poked my head in and saw that my house was packed to the rim with decorations.

“Hey, sis,” I called, “The door was open, do you---’

“Oh my God,” she said rounding the corner, her cherub like cheeks always made me want to pinch them. She hated that. “I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“The door was open—”

“Sorry, sis,” she shook her head, “I can be so absent minded sometimes, but I was moving things inside and forgot to close the door behind me.”

“No problem, I just don’t want you to invite serial killers in.”

“I don’t think serial killers are opportunists,” she said matter of factly. My sister could be quite literal and normally missed my dry attempts at humor. “I’m pretty sure they’re deliberate with their victim choices. But anyway, you sit down, take it easy. I’ll get all these decorations up.”

“You sure?”

“It’s amazing how much I can get done without the little ones in tow. So yes, I’m sure. Sit. Relax. I got this.”

I wanted to protest and then thought, why not? “Have at it, sis. I’ll be in my bedroom. I think I need a nap.”

“Ok,” she cheerfully started humming as she busied herself. She was so industrious. I admired her for that. She was the most task-oriented person I’d ever met in my life. She got it from my mom. When my mom hadn’t been drinking, she’d been making chore charts for all of us, including herself and she checked off each task happily. An organized life is a happy life, she would say. Clearly, that motto hadn’t gotten her anywhere, I thought to myself.

I laid down and drifted to sleep. I didn’t know how long I had been asleep, but I knew exactly what had awakened me. I woke up because I heard two little voices near me.

“Should we wake her?” asked a voice that was clearly my youngest niece. She was whispering so loudly, I’m sure someone could hear her in the next room.

“I think so,” answered her sister.

“She looks dead.”

“She’s not dead. That’s how old people look when they’re asleep.”

I opened my eyes, “Who are you calling old?”

My youngest niece, Tera Jane or TJ for short, screamed, startled.

The oldest, Johnna, laughed. “Oh my God, you should have seen your face, TJ. Classic. Hi, Auntie Sydney. ” She held her arms out and I grabbed her and started to tickle her. TJ jumped in and I tickled them both.

“What’s all that racket?” I heard my dad say from the door.

“Attack!” I yelled, and they ran and jumped on my father who stumbled back a little bit. I laughed. My dad could still keep up with them and I felt my first real smile of the day form. I was a daddy’s girl and hearing his laugh really made me feel like it would be ok.

“Dad, aren’t you supposed to be out at your party?” I asked once he was done being attacked.

“I am. But there are too many people. I need your frowning face for moral support.”

“Jeez, thanks Dad.”

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