Page 57 of Second Chances

“What about that mechanic you went out with?” Mechanic? Henry was so much more: business owner, crafter, purveyor, father, friend. Brady continued, “Isobel said you had a date.” No one knew about her evening with Henry yet, and the last person Charlotte wanted to confide in was her ex-husband. “I take it from your silence that it’s none of my business, but if he’s as great as our daughter and your best friend have let on, you could have a second chance at happiness…at love.”

Charlotte sighed, missing Henry and eager to be off the phone with Brady. “I’m sorry. I want you to be happy, too. You deserve that. What I should’ve said right away is congratulations to both you and Harmony. It’s too early to talk about things with Henry, but right now, I am very…happy.” Her doorbell rang. “I need to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Ending the call with her ex-husband, she sprinted from her bedroom to the front door.

“Avon calling. Did someone order a Hardee’s breakfast biscuit?” Amy held out a paper bag in one hand and a styrofoam cup in the other, looking her up and down. “Hey, sexy mama. I could’ve been anyone, or do you always open the door in just your robe?”

Ignoring the question, she asked her own instead, “Why didn’t you tell me about Brady?” After grabbing the bag, Charlotte opened it and inhaled deeply.

“I know, I’m sorry. He insisted on telling you himself. How’re you doing?” Amy pulled her in for a hug.

“I’m okay.” She walked into the kitchen with her breakfast treat. “Surprised, but now that the news has sunk in, not as shocked as I was. He asked me about Henry, so at least it looks like I’m not pining for my ex.”

“Yes, let’s move on to Henry,” Amy wriggled her eyebrows, grinning and sitting next to her at the table. “I hope you didn’t let Brady announce he was getting remarried without giving him some spice of your own. Even if you haven’t talked to Henry for two months.” With Amy’s gaze on her, Charlotte couldn’t stop the flush spreading across her skin. Amy gasped. “What are you not telling me? Have you talked to him? Seen him? What? Spill!”

Laughing, Charlotte said, “Well, if you’d give me a minute⁠—”

“If you’ve been sitting on details about you and Henry, I’ll never forgive you!”

“I’m glad you’re here so I can tell you in person. Something happened last night. And this morning. And many times in between.” With a scream echoing in her ears, Amy pulled her from her seat by her arms and spun her around the kitchen.

“I’m so proud—you’ve been properly laid, I can tell.”

Blushing furiously, Charlotte responded, “I wasn’t going to put it like that.”

“Give me every single detail. I bet he’s good with his hands, right? He seems like a man who knows right where to⁠—”

“Stop! I can never have you in the same room as him if you’re going to be imagining the power of his hands.” She tightened her robe and dropped into her chair. “Amy, it was incredible. Henry is incredible. We met up at the street dance last night…” And with Amy hanging on every word, she recounted her evening with Henry, leaving out the more…creative details.

“I know you’ve probably only told me twenty-five percent of what happened between you and the sexy mechanic, but damn, Lottie, if I ever find myself lucky enough to be given a tour of the coffee shed, the image of you two on top of that table?”

“The sex was…shattering…unlike anything I’ve ever experienced-”

“Well, you only have Brady to compare it to, bless him.”

“But more than that, he’s unbelievable. The craftsmanship of that shed, the coffee in it…he is so considerate, so thoughtful.”

“Do you know how many women would kill to be in your shoes? You’re divorced from a man who isn’t a piece of garbage and you’ve met a man who sounds fucking perfect.” Amy laughed. “I mean, I know he’s probably not perfect, but he is one in a million. So what’s the deal? Why are you spending the day here with me and not in bed with him?”

One of Amy’s best attributes was saying something completely outrageous yet also undeniably true. “Well, he had to go to the shop, and you’re here.”

“And? You just had a night of what sounds like life-altering sex. Please, feel free to blow me off! I’m sure if you gave him the slightest nudge, he would’ve forgotten anything he had to do in the shop. I mean, he is the owner.”

“I just don’t know…he’s been single for so long. Is he looking for something serious? Am I? I mean, I spent thirty years yearning for freedom, then when I get it, I start up an intense relationship with the first man I meet? Granted, it took me two years to finally get a date with him, but shouldn’t I be sowing my wild oats?”

“Bitch, get out there and sow them, then! You are so damn beautiful that any man should fall to his knees if you looked twice at him! You’ve had your ‘freedom’ for two years, and he’s the only man you’ve been interested in. So much so that you’ve essentially been pining for him the entire time. You’ve had two lackluster dates with other men, but other than that, you haven’t done anything to meet anyone else. I’ve asked you a million times about any single dads at the high school. Nothing. Why not just relax and see where things lead with Henry? A guy like that—there’s no way other women haven’t tried to get him in the exact position you had him last night…excuse the phrasing.” Amy swiped Charlotte’s coffee and took a drink. “But you’re the only one who succeeded. Without an agenda. Without trying. He wants you, Lottie. He’s probably as cautious as you…more so, in fact. Ride him for eight seconds, and if you lose your grip and fall off, you get back in the chute and wait for another bull.”

“Rodeo analogies? I didn’t know you were so versed in the sport.”

“Seems appropriate. Speaking of which, if you’re not going to rope him right now, let’s go to the rodeo for a while. Maybe I can find my own cowboy to take on a trip around the arena, if you get my drift. Could be husband number three, if he lets me hogtie him.”

Chuckling, Charlotte said, “Let me get dressed.” In her room, she changed into a sleeveless navy-and-white striped top with a row of decorative buttons adorning it and a pair of loose-fitting olive shorts that ended right above her knees.

Amy whistled. “Those shorts look hot on you, Lottie. Now let’s get to the rodeo before all the good cowboys are gone.” She pulled on a glittery white cowboy hat, and then they were out the door.

At the rodeo grounds, they found seats just beyond the reach of the canopy. “Damn, what is with the lack of trees at every rodeo? Is it a must that we have to fry our asses off?” Amy grumbled. “I’m going to go to the concession stand for a water. Do you want anything?” When Charlotte didn’t answer, Amy said, “I’m guessing by the smile on your face and the way you’re stroking your phone that Henry just texted?”

She showed Amy:

Dear Charlotte,