Page 62 of Second Chances

“You and I grow apart? Never!” Amy quipped, then squeezed Charlotte’s hand. “Just kidding. I, for the record, hope you do meet new people. I’m assuming poor Brady might not be feeling the same? Is he getting paranoid?”

“Things haven’t been easy for us. He worked such long hours this summer, since it was so hot. Everyone’s air conditioning was on the fritz, and he couldn’t keep up. We haven’t gotten a lot of time together.” Sometimes it slipped her mind that she was only twenty-three. Too often she felt twice her age.

“But…you guys are good, right?”

Were they? Sometimes Charlotte stayed awake after her husband and daughter went to bed, resigned with her life: the routine, the mind-numbing repetition of every day. No passion, unlike her novels, which were too often her only comfort long into the night.

“I couldn’t handle it if you and Brady didn’t make it, you know. I was the biggest doubter when you two got married, but you guys proved me wrong.” Amy’s disapproval had almost driven a wedge in their friendship, so much so that the two of them didn’t speak after Amy went away to college, only making up when Amy came home for winter break several months later.

Charlotte waved away her best friend’s concern. “We’re fine, just adjusting to all these changes.” Should she admit she feared she wasn’t as in love with Brady as she had been before they had gotten married? When they had spent breathless moments in her bedroom, surrounded by posters of New Kids on the Block, the Goonies, and Debbie Gibson? If only she’d been more rigorous about her birth control. If only her parents hadn’t been so permissive. If only Brady had kept condoms in his wallet. If only, if only, if only…things had turned out differently. But they hadn’t, so here she was, on the first day of the rest of her life, when she could finally be in charge of her future.

“Well, you are going to be a star. And listen, I know the title of English teacher wasn’t one you’d planned since you were young, but you are going to be amazing. You love books and correcting my grammar—what more is there? Plus, I know your mom and dad are proud as hell of you, wherever they are.”

“You think so?” Charlotte’s voice wobbled.

Drawing her into a hug, Amy rubbed Charlotte’s back. “Without a doubt. You know how many times your dad told me that you were their greatest blessing? And your mom on your wedding day, when everyone was all sour pickles and gloom and doom, showed me that blanket she was knitting for the baby⁠—”

Charlotte interrupted, “Isobel still has it, sleeps with it every night.”

“See? And even though she’s young, Issy will have those memories of her grandparents. Now, my friend, wipe those eyes and finish that coffee, because it’s time to get you back to your car so you can get your happy ass to college—finally!”

A week had passed since the rodeo dance, and tonight, Henry and Charlotte were going out to dinner with Josh and Effie. He desperately needed a second opinion, so he urgently dialed his future daughter-in-law. “Help! I’m having, believe it or not, a wardrobe crisis. Can you come over?” Though he had woken up every morning with Charlotte in his arms, he explained to Effie, “I want to look my best. It’s only our second date, really, and you know Charlotte will be magnificent.” Undoubtedly, his life’s value had increased exponentially with her in it: the sun shone brighter, the breeze felt more refreshing, his food tasted better, and he had to match her in the sunshine and positivity she exuded. Or try to, anyway.

The benefit of his son and Effie living just around the block meant she arrived two minutes later, with a knock on his bedroom door. “Henry! Has a tornado been through Beverley?” Strewn across his bed were a dozen shirts, all tossed aside for various reasons. “Well, I see why you rejected these,” Effie remarked, pointing to the bed. “They’re fine under normal circumstances, but not if you want to drive Charlotte mad.”

“I don’t know if that’s my intention.” Henry flushed. What Effie didn’t know was that he had already figured out at least a hundred different ways to drive Charlotte mad, and they all had the same effect on him, too.

Effie laughed. “Trust me. She wants to be driven mad.” Effie ducked into his closet. “No. No. No. Ah, we have a winner!” She presented a long-sleeved royal blue western shirt he hadn’t worn in years.

“Are you sure? I may have gone up a size or two since I bought that.”

Effie eyed him. “Trust me. Even if it’s a little tight, Charlotte will go crazy. Maybe even more if it’s tight,” Effie winked. “I’m kidding, Henry. Try it on over your t-shirt.” Henry complied, and Effie clapped her hands. “See! I knew it! And that color? Makes your blue eyes pop! You know brown-eyed women love blue-eyed men!” She batted her own golden-brown eyes at him. “I have to get home now and make sure Josh and I look as good as you and Charlotte!” She kissed his cheek. “See you in a bit!”

Ready to surprise Henry when he arrived, Charlotte was waiting in her driveway, giddy with anticipation, despite the fact that she’d seen him less than four hours ago. Her heart thumped when he pulled up to the curb. “Hey.” She leaned into the open window of his car, greeting him with a kiss. “I thought we’d take the Tempest.” She dangled the keys in front of him, and he beamed at her, which was the reaction she was looking for. She scooted back so he could open the door, and when he stepped out, the rays of the setting sun highlighted his silvery blond hair. “You look so handsome.” She greeted him with a kiss. “I love this color on you! I especially love the way your shoulders look.” Her fingers trailed down the front. “And snaps again? Are you trying to seduce me before dinner?” Henry’s hands slid from her waist down to the curve of her bottom, pressing her into his solid strength.

With her hair flowing around her, she was stunning, and he wrapped a palmful of her dark hair around his hand, letting strands sift through his fingers. “I’m sure we can spare fifteen minutes, right?”

By the time they arrived at the Cattlemen’s Club Steakhouse, they were breathless and flushed, and Effie flashed Charlotte a knowing look with her eyebrow raised. Charlotte fought back a grin and lost, mindful that her neck showed the evidence of their late arrival.

Drinks were ordered and appetizers chosen before Henry’s heart rate settled into a normal pattern. “Dad, mind if I drop by the shop tomorrow? I think I need some new brake pads. I’ll do them myself, but I thought it’d be nice to bring some breakfast over, and we can eat first.”

“You can come, but I won’t be there.”

Josh reacted with an open-mouthed stare. “What? But it’s Saturday.”

“I’m taking the day off,” Henry grinned to Charlotte, who rubbed her hand up his thigh underneath the table.

“You’re taking tomorrow off. Saturday. The day you’ve always said is the busiest day of your week?” Josh moved aside to let the waiter place their appetizers on the table.

Effie passed around platters of sausage-stuffed mushrooms and grilled shrimp with garlic butter. “Babe, if your dad wants to take tomorrow off, why don’t we let him do that?” Effie took her fiancé’s hand in her own, bringing it to her lips for a kiss. “It’s good, right, Josh?” She nudged him under the table, which Charlotte felt, since Effie’s foot grazed her knee on the way to Josh’s.

“Obviously,” Josh acknowledged. “I’ve just never known him to take a day off.” Then, he leaned over to kiss Effie’s forehead.

Charlotte ducked her head to hide her smile, touched by Henry’s thoughtfulness. He had told her this morning that he was thinking of taking the day off, but had not confirmed it, and her mind filled with possibilities for them. “So, tell me how the wedding planning is going.”

“Everything is really coming along. Only one thing, actually, since there are a few extra invitations.” Effie turned to Josh. “Are you sure about⁠—”

Josh cut her off, “Yes. And the answer is still no,” his tone stern. “Effie is concerned I’ll have second thoughts about not reaching out to Mom.”