Page 79 of Second Chances

She assured Casey, “No, everything’s fine with Henry.” What wasn’t fine was Melanie, who worried she was going to be sick again.

Drawing in deep breaths, she listened as her sister said, “Well, hopefully I’ll be able to see for myself soon enough.” Every month, Melanie sent her sister money to save for a visit sometime, on the promise she wouldn’t tell their mama.

“Yep,” Melanie quickly agreed, “I gotta go, Casey. I’m not feeling too good.”

“Oh, no…for how long?”

“The past few days.”

Casey teased, “Ooh—could I be getting a new niece or nephew? Maybe that’ll be a good time to visit.”

Melanie’s blood ran cold at her sister’s words, and the vomit she’d been holding back surged up her throat. Leaving the receiver dangling, she raced to the bathroom, making it in the nick of time. Crying into the porcelain, she trembled. How could she do this again? How could she stay, with another baby, in a place she hated, where no one loved her? Joshua did, she corrected herself, for now. How long, though? When would he realize his mother wasn’t good enough for him? She wasn’t smart or talented, no special skills of any kind. Even her blonde hair, once her shining glory, wasn’t real anymore.

On Christmas Eve, before picking Henry up from work, she went to the pharmacy for the test she hadn’t had the courage to buy, let alone take, before that day. When she opened the door, tacked to the board in the entryway, the Greyhound Bus schedule caught her eye, reminding her of the time twelve years ago when she’d first noticed the pharmacy also served as the bus depot. At the Christmas Eve celebration with her in-laws that night, unable to wait another moment without knowing her fate, she ducked into the bathroom. Sitting in silence, the holiday revelry from the living room mocked the panic she felt as the second line appeared on her pregnancy test, and she was too stunned…too broken to move.

Christmas morning, after they opened their gifts, while Henry and Joshua pored over the instructions to the microscope they had both loved, Melanie called her sister from the bedroom.

The next day, another bout of nausea hit Melanie, and she pressed her forehead to the icy glass on the bus, letting her tears fall freely—the tears she had kept a tight rein on since leaving Clover Lake that morning. Knowing no one would understand, she’d done it anyway—left it all behind her. Left them behind: the only man who had ever loved her, and the son she was bound to disappoint.

Henry was dazed, either dreaming or in some altered state. “I’m sorry…what did you say?”

“I’m your daughter,” Sophie repeated, eyes the blue of summer skies…just like Josh’s…just like his, but she must be mistaken. He had only one child, and he had gotten married today, finally embracing the happiness that had been Henry’s primary goal in life. “You’re my father.”

“But…” his phone rang again, the call quickly rejected without checking. “I don’t…” He silenced his phone. “How…” Henry stopped, cleared his throat, then posed the only question he could wrap his addled mind around, “how old are you?” Henry had not lived a completely celibate life after Melanie, but that hadn’t happened until Josh was in college, less than twenty years ago. Sophie didn’t look like a teenager, but what did he know? Was it possible he’d carelessly gotten one of the women he’d been with pregnant, regardless of how careful he’d been?

“Twenty-four.” Twenty-four? Sophie’s answer had him doing the math in his head. Josh was thirty-six now, twelve when his mother left. A difference of twenty-four years. Melanie…Had Melanie been pregnant when she left him? No, she couldn’t have been. He would have known, right? Things had been difficult before she’d left, and she hadn’t been happy, but she wouldn’t have left him while carrying their baby…would she?

And yet, it all made spectacular sense: the frantic phone calls, the incessant texts, her inexplicable need to speak with him while saying nothing. None of it had to do with their son, after all, but…their daughter…? “Melanie,” he choked.

“Yes,” Sophie nodded. “Henry, I’m sorry.” Tears clouded her eyes. “I’m sorry I told you like this. I tried to talk to you at your auto shop on Thursday, but you left early, I guess.” Thursday…yes, Henry had only worked that morning. Charlotte had packed a picnic lunch for them, and on bicycles borrowed from Josh and Effie, they’d ridden along the river path. After finding a soft patch of grass, Henry unfolded the quilt he had strapped to his basket, smoothing it out carefully on the ground. After they ate, Charlotte convinced Henry to take his shoes and socks off and wade into the icy water with her. Her dark hair had shone almost burgundy in the blazing sun, its heat warming the hand he tucked into her nape.

Glancing around, he drew that same hand through his hair now, wondering where everyone was, wishing Charlotte was beside him to ground him, help him navigate, because she’d become his compass. Or one of his siblings, who’d always done their best to protect and support him in those dark days after Melanie disappeared. Or his parents, who loved him unconditionally, no matter what he faced. But he was alone, dealing with this—the news of his daughter? He still couldn’t believe it, was struggling to understand. “So…Melanie is…your…mom?” Somewhere behind him a door shut, but the surrounding air remained still.

“Yes.” Sophie hesitated. “She didn’t want me to find you…I’m not sure she even knows where I am. I didn’t know about you until last year, when I found this box of stuff, like newspaper clippings about…about your son…Josh…my brother.” Henry’s breath caught when she referred to Josh. What newspaper clippings? He’d assumed Melanie’s only knowledge of Josh came from his father and their phone calls, when he’d update her about Josh. Because she’d walked away.

Studying Sophie, the shape of her heavy-lidded eyes, her ears with their attached lobes, the cleft in her chin…all his. His other child. With a pang in his heart and a punch to his gut, he considered everything he had missed with her. After Josh’s birth, he loved every minute of being a father. He would rush home after work, intending to get there early enough to be the one to give Josh a bath, read to him, put him to bed, but Melanie, without fail, refused to let him near her or their son until he scrubbed off every bit of the day’s grime. By the time he was done, Josh was usually fast asleep, but he’d slip into his son’s room, brush the feathery blond hair back from his delicate forehead to give him a goodnight kiss. Josh filled the void left by Henry’s unrealized dreams.

Sounds of the wedding band drifted out every time the back door opened, and he imagined his son on the dance floor with his new wife, blissfully unaware of the truth unfolding outside. “You’re my daughter?” Henry’s voice was filled with awe, disbelief, and…hope.

Sophie nodded, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry. This probably wasn’t the time or place, but I didn’t know what else to do. I mean, I tried other ways. I called your shop, but whenever I heard your voice, I’d get nervous and hang up. Who wants to hear they have a long-lost kid over the phone, right? And Mom…Mom always said…”

“What? What did your mom say?” He braced himself for whatever lies Melanie may have come up with.

“Just that she had to raise me on her own. That my dad couldn’t be there for us. She never talked badly about you, just refused to say anything.” Sophie paused, reached into the bag slung across her body, and extracted a bottle of water.

“I never knew,” Henry shook his head. “I never knew about you. I don’t understand.” Henry’s head hurt, but the pain paled compared to the agony in his heart. If Melanie had known she was pregnant, how could she leave with their baby? How she could leave her son at all, he would never comprehend, but to have their daughter grow up without knowing her father or brother? Even if she’d discovered she was pregnant afterwards…she’d kept him from his child. The depths of her selfishness clearly had no end, and he despaired at the idea of his daughter growing up without him.

“I’m so sorry, Sophie, that I wasn’t there for you.” His throat clogged with a plethora of emotions, his mind churning; at last he managed, “I would have been there for both of you if I’d known.” Blue eyes mirroring his, he gazed into their depths. “I swear to you, I didn’t know your mom was pregnant when she left.”

“She left? Is that what happened?” Sophie’s hand lifted, only to fall to her side in the next breath. “She would never tell me anything.”

Henry was unsure of how frank to be with Sophie, who, raised solely by her mother, would undoubtedly be loyal to the only parent she had known. Annoyed with himself for wanting to protect Melanie, especially after finding out she had hidden his child from him for twenty-four years, he decided to be blunt. “Yes. She left. Without a word to me, without telling our son goodbye, she was gone.” He thought of his son, the day after Christmas, waking up to find his mother gone. He’d never forget the anguish on Josh’s face, or the hell he’d experienced trying to explain to their child why his mother wasn’t there.

Sophie shook her head, her knuckles white as she gripped the strap of her bag. “I knew Mom could be selfish and petty, but I don’t understand why she would do that.”

“Me neither. I still don’t. And Josh…he was only twelve.”

“I’m sorry, Henry. You seem so…nice. I’m sure you didn’t deserve it. That speech you gave at the reception…” Sophie’s eyes shone with tears.