Page 90 of Second Chances

I’d like to tell you I’m sorry in person.

Can we please talk?

Love, Henry

He sent the text and slumped into a dining chair. If Charlotte never forgave him, he didn’t know what he’d do. He certainly didn’t deserve it after the way he’d treated her, but if she gave him a second chance, he would make it his life’s mission to bring her only joy for the rest of their lives. His phone rang, and a sob caught in his throat; to his dismay, it wasn’t Charlotte, but his sister. Why was she calling him just shy of eight in the morning? “Trixie? Is something wrong?”

“No, I just figured you’d be awake since you’re such an early bird.”

That used to be true before he discovered the joys of late-night lovemaking with Charlotte. Leisurely sensations slowly building until she exploded in his arms, her gorgeous face shining with wonder. He did his best to stifle a cry. “So, what’s up?”

“I was just checking what time you two were going to be at the restaurant this morning? We never discussed it last night.” Because instead, his attention had been on his ex and the secret daughter she’d kept from him.

With difficulty, he said, “It’ll probably be just me. Charlotte isn’t…” He couldn’t finish.

“Isn’t what, Henry?”

“Isn’t…isn’t feeling well,” Henry managed.

“Okay,” Trixie responded. “Henry? What’s wrong? You just sound a little…distant.”

What could he say? That his ex-wife had hidden his daughter from him, but that both of them had shown up at Josh’s wedding reception last night? That he and Charlotte had disagreed, and he had accused her of taking Melanie’s side? Having the woman he loved…the woman who had healed his heart…side with the woman who had done so much damage to that same heart had stung. Especially painful had been Charlotte questioning his feelings for DD, making it seem like his loyalty and devotion to Melanie had been suspect, when nothing had been further from the truth. He wasn’t a man with a wandering eye or a cheating heart. When he had been married to Melanie, no other woman had existed, despite his wife’s accusations, and he had believed that Charlotte understood that. Still, he had been an idiot to lash out at her, the woman he adored.

“I know about Melanie, Henry,…and Sophie. I’m sorry.” Of course she knew; everyone probably did. “You deserved to know your daughter, and I hate that you didn’t.” Trixie sniffed, and Henry guessed she was probably in tears on the other end of the phone. He certainly was, not caring about putting on a brave face with his sister. “You’re an amazing father, and the fact that Melanie stole that from you is shitty. I’m sure you’re already figuring out how to make up for lost time.”

“I’ll move heaven and earth for that chance,” he responded vehemently. “Sophie’s coming to the brunch today.”

“I can’t wait to meet her. Neither can the rest of the family. And don’t worry, I’ve warned everyone not to overwhelm her.”

“She reminds me so much of Josh, but lighter.” Henry felt himself choking up again.

“Like you are, now that you’re with Charlotte. I haven’t seen you like that in years.”

Charlotte… would she give him another chance? Did he deserve one? Before he succumbed to tears again, he said, “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Maybe Charlotte will feel better by then, too. Love you, baby bro.”

He needed to think, and he couldn’t do it inside his house, void of Charlotte’s soothing voice and lilting laughter. What he wanted was to see her, but he would make himself wait until she responded to his text. Coffee in hand, after stuffing his feet into a pair of tennis shoes, he shuffled across his backyard. Henry had tossed a baseball to Josh here their first summer, when neither one had any friends, both too immersed in their misery to make any. That winter, Henry built a wood shop, and years later, he would use the same design for his coffee shed.

Unlocking the door, he flipped on a light, then put a John Mellencamp CD on the stereo. Not finding a charger, he put his phone in his pocket and started on the project he’d thought of just before drifting asleep this morning. The repetitive action of sanding gave him the mental space to come to terms with what had occurred in the past twenty-four hours. Grudgingly, he supposed he understood why Melanie had thought leaving was inevitable. Looking back, his family could have done more…hell, he should have ensured he had done more. Now, he reasoned Melanie had probably amplified her self-involved behavior to protect herself from getting lost in his life. Just as Charlotte had felt lost during her marriage. Staring at his phone, he willed her to contact him, but gave up after a minute, going back to his project.

When he went back into his house to shower for the brunch, snoring greeted him from the living room. “What the hell?” His brother was asleep on his sofa. “George!”

“Shit, Henry, damn near gave me a heart attack!”

“I could say the same thing! What are you doing here?”

“Trying to get away from Nora,” his brother complained. “This is going to be a long year. She’s already going crazy about Liam’s engagement. Wants to start reserving venues, planning the rehearsal supper.” On his feet now, George rummaged through Henry’s refrigerator. “You have any breakfast casserole in here? I know we’ll be eating in an hour, but I’m starving!”

“Um…there might be some in the freezer.”

“Found it!” George popped the glass container into the microwave. “Anyway, I just don’t get why she’s obsessing about a wedding that A—she has no date for, and B—has no location for. I mean, Lana’s from New York, so I’ve been warning Nora to slow down. ‘Honey, it’s the bride’s show,’ I tell her, ‘not yours’.” George shrugged, clearly exhausted already by his son’s future wedding. Watching the casserole spin in the microwave, Henry thought of the day Charlotte made it for him, one of the little things she did to show she cared. What if she decided his life…his past…was too much? Who could blame her? “So, where is she?” George frowned and crossed his arms in front of him. “And I’m not buying your wide-eyed innocent look, either, or your story that Charlotte wasn’t ‘feeling well’,” George’s fingers emphasized air quotes. “Yeah, our sister called me. You two have been inseparable for the past two months, but now you’re here alone?” Uncomfortable with his brother’s inquisition, Henry merely shrugged. “I’m assuming it has something to do with Melanie making an appearance last night? I always thought she was a little shit-stirrer, you know. To keep your own child a secret from you, and then breeze back here, expecting to be forgiven? She clearly hasn’t changed⁠—”

“Hey, give it a rest, okay? Obviously, I’m upset with her about everything, but we’re working on things-”

“‘Working on things’ how?”

At George’s aghast expression, Henry assured him, “God, no, not like that. Just…existing together. I’ll probably never trust her, but that’s fine. I don’t need to—our children are adults.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I still can’t believe I have two kids. A daughter.” Making himself another coffee, he shook his glass at his brother. “Want one?”