Page 84 of Second Chances

Thinking back on her own shock at discovering that she was pregnant at eighteen, Charlotte couldn’t help but identify with some of what Melanie must have felt back then: all hopes for her future gone, all her self-worth determined instead by her value as a parent and wife. And then having to face another unplanned pregnancy? It would overwhelm anyone. Trying to ease some of Henry’s pain, she gently told him, “I’m obviously not agreeing that she had a right to blame you, but I guess I can understand, a little, what must have been going through her mind.”

Henry recoiled. “What was going through her mind was the idea that she should abandon our son and leave with my unborn child. All because she had some childish dream of moving to Hollywood.” He choked out a laugh. “I mean, how ridiculous does that sound? How juvenile? If she had been open with me, we could have talked it through. I could have helped her, made her remember that I once had dreams, too. Dreams that I gave up for her…for our family…but she never cared about those, or what I went through.” Covering his face with his hands, he gave himself over to his grief. “She kept my child from me, Charlotte, and instead of apologizing, at the very least, she insinuated it was my fault.”

With Charlotte’s own tears streaming, she questioned, “Is that why she’s been calling you?”

Henry held his breath, hoping he’d misheard Charlotte. He’d been so careful, hadn’t he? “What do you mean?” Why had he said that? Why hadn’t he just admitted the truth now, when he had the chance?

“It’s okay, Henry, I know Melanie has been calling you…texting you. Ruth and Tess let it slip at the dance.” Her eyes on him, she saw the guilt flash across his face. “I wish you had said something. I could have been there for you. If I’m being honest, it hurt when they told me. I guess I thought…”

Her brown eyes gleamed with hurt, and shame filled him. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. You’re right, I should have been honest with you. It’s just…her phone calls were so vague, she never said anything concrete, the same as her texts. I just thought she was trying to annoy me…get under my skin.” Even now, when he and Charlotte should be relishing the afterglow of their lovemaking, Melanie was a dark cloud. “All she does is bring up old hurts. It’s like she gets off telling me how everyone slighted her when we were married, accusing me of not paying attention to her, of ignoring her feelings. If I’d had any indication that the reason she was contacting me was to let me in on the fact I had a daughter, I might have been a bit more receptive.” Growing more agitated, Henry sprang to his feet, grabbing his clothes from the floor. Discussing his ex while in bed naked with the woman he loved didn’t sit right with him.

Was Henry upset with her? Charlotte’s parents had rarely argued, maybe because she was an only child, or they were older, or they had enough money; whatever the reason. In her own marriage, nothing, really, ever seemed important enough for them to fight over. It unsettled her that Henry was so angry with Melanie, probably because she could sympathize with her in some ways. Melanie was just a child, really, when she moved to Henry’s hometown. The two teenagers had only known each other for a couple of months before getting married. She and Brady had known each other most of their lives, and they had still been unprepared for building a family or becoming adults together.

“And what about Diadema?” Charlotte was still troubled learning about his feelings for her, no matter how long ago it was. How had that affected Melanie’s fragile sense of self? Even now, decades later, when he was no longer “in love with” the other woman, she still affected him.

Henry shot Charlotte a befuddled look. “DD?” Why would Charlotte be asking about her?

“Yes, what role did she play in Melanie leaving?” Unable to watch his reaction, she smoothed the sheets around her.

Henry let out an exasperated laugh and declared, “Absolutely none! She was barely around. Mellie hardly knew her.”

Mellie? Another nickname, another woman, and the parallels between the two women from his past disturbed her. “According to what I heard from Ruth and Tess, Melanie was convinced you still had feelings for Diadema.” A slight pause, and then she forced her eyes to his face. “Did you?”

Henry shook his head. “No! I swear to you, no. Whatever I felt for her was gone when I met Melanie.” Henry sat down on the edge of the bed, aware that he was probably overly sensitive after the events of tonight. All he wanted was to be with Charlotte: kind, sensitive, brilliant, and for some reason, fighting a fight that wasn’t hers. “Why are you bringing this up? You know I don’t care for DD.”

“That’s why—I don’t know that! You have dropped everything for her, more than once, and even after I practically engraved an invitation for you, I still didn’t hear from you for months.” At his confused look, she reminded him, “That day in the diner, when you were with Diadema. I told you to call me. But you didn’t.” Not stopping until she’d let it all out, she continued, “I had to throw myself at you in the coffee shop instead, a year later. Because I wanted you—wanted to get to know you, to get close to you…to be with you.”

Henry crawled over her comforter to take her hand. “That’s what I wanted, too. You were the only woman-”

“But I wasn’t, was I? Not if you all but ignored me so you could rescue Diadema.” Distressed, she threw her hands up in the air. “Frankly, Henry, if this is even a portion of what Melanie felt, I can see why she left.”

As if physically attacked, Henry’s head snapped back. “Wow. Okay. Siding with my ex-wife was not what I thought you would do. I can’t—” Stumbling to his feet, Henry couldn’t keep the pain from his voice when he spoke. “I put my life on hold for Melanie. Do you think I wanted to be a mechanic my entire life? I was supposed to go to college…medical school. I wanted to be a doctor. Melanie didn’t care, not once, about what I gave up. Then I had to start my life over—made Josh start his over, too—when she left us.” Choking on his own tears, he forced himself to keep talking, “I made him lie about his mother, tell everyone here that she had died instead of admitting she walked out on us! And now I find out the reason she did that was because she couldn’t bear the idea of raising another child with me. As if life with me was so terrible. And now to have you sympathize with her…side with her? I thought you cared about me, Charlotte!” Bereft, he slid his feet into his shoes.

“Henry, no!” Too tangled in the sheets to race after him, he was out of her house by the time she finally freed herself enough to put her shorts on. “Henry!” Begging the fates to have him still in her driveway, she called out again, “Henry,” as she twisted the handle on her door, only to witness him turning the corner on the next block, disappearing from her sight in the early dawn. What had she done? Weeping as her legs collapsed under her, she regretted ever saying anything about Melanie or Diadema. “I do care about you, Henry,” she sobbed to the closed door. “I love you.” Her confession fruitless now, she doubted he would ever look past this, not after what had been said, or how she had made him feel.

Reeling as he left Charlotte’s house, Henry blindly drove the streets of the town he had loved for a quarter of a century while his tears ran unchecked. Her words had stung, but what made them so cutting was that it wasn’t the first time he’d heard them; he’d been repeating them to himself since the day Melanie had left. Over time, it became easier to blame her for leaving than to examine how he’d driven her away. What he loathed to admit was that he’d been just as unhappy as she in their marriage.

Once and for all, he wanted— no, needed—closure with his ex-wife. The only way to get that was through answers, and he made a U-turn. After pulling up to the Holiday Suites, Henry texted:

We need to talk.

I’m in front of the hotel.

Dots flickered in response, yet no message came. Instead, several minutes later, the revolving door leading from the hotel lobby spun. “Let’s walk to the diner.” Henry was curt when Melanie came out, and after she shot him a surprised look, the two made their way three blocks over to Betsy’s Diner without speaking.

A lifetime of gentlemanly behavior had him holding the door open for Melanie, earning him a shocked glance in return. “Haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Henry bristled with annoyance.

“Hi, Henry,” Sissy, one of Beverley’s best information spreaders, greeted them as they entered. By noon, at least fifty people would know about him being here with an unknown woman, and he cringed thinking about it. “Table for two?”

He had to get this over with, so he confirmed, “Yes, please.”

“Drove past the park yesterday. That was some wedding Josh had. Of course, I’m not upset I didn’t get an invitation, ‘cause I had to work and all.” Sissy snapped her gum. “Here ya go.”

As if things couldn’t be more depressing, they were at the booth he had last occupied with DD, and there was no way he could face adding another memory to it, so he pointed to the next one over. “Actually, do you mind if we sit there?”

“Whatever you want, Henry. Coffees?”

He nodded, but Melanie requested, “Tea, please, English breakfast, if you have it.”