Page 93 of Second Chances

I regret the things I said, but most of all, I regret leaving you.

I can only say I was ashamed to be so easily triggered, after so many years.

I know I probably don’t deserve a chance to explain, but I would be incredibly grateful if I could.

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

Can we please talk?

Love, Henry

Every time she read it, her eyes welled with tears. “Love, Henry.” The timestamp showed that she’d received it about the time Amy had gotten to her house. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen it until about half an hour ago. Multiple texts responding to Henry went not only unanswered but also unseen. Had he switched his phone off for the brunch? While she was in the shower, Amy told her she thought Henry’s car had driven past. If so, why hadn’t he stopped? He’d known Amy was coming to Beverley today, a sick realization dawned, and maybe if he was planning on ending their relationship, he didn’t want to do it with her friend present? Could that be? Panicked, she tried calling him, but went straight to voicemail.

“What should I do, Amy? I can’t let this go on…I need to see him. Should I go over to the Cattlemen’s Club?”

“Do you want to?” Charlotte stared at her friend, and she slowly nodded. “Let’s go! Put on your cutest outfit, wear your hair up so all he can think of is how he wants to take it down—he’s into that, right?—and just go to him!”

“What if he breaks up with me in front of his family?”

“The man is in love, Lottie. One argument, disagreement, misunderstanding, whatever it was, isn’t going to end that,” Amy assured her.

“No? Not even one where I took his ex-wife’s side and accused him of having feelings for Diadema?”

“Stop—you’re blowing things out of proportion. Granted, I’m only going by what you told me, but I think anxiety is magnifying everything.” Amy, next to her on the sofa, took her hand in hers. “Henry didn’t wait all those years to be with someone only to flake out on them at the slightest blip.” Amy grabbed a box of Kleenex from the coffee table and held it in front of her.

Taking a tissue, Charlotte blew her nose, hopeful this was the last of her tears. “I still don’t know why he didn’t tell me about being in touch with Melanie…shouldn’t I be concerned about that?”

“Honestly, I’d let that go. It’s not like there’s anything going on between them. He probably wanted to keep it away from you. Imagine if things were reversed, and your relationship with Brady was hell, but he kept calling and texting you? Would you tell Henry? The answer is no, because it would make things too complicated too fast, and not in a good way. You guys are in the first bloom of love right now. Having sex whenever possible, wherever possible.” Amy nudged her gently, and Charlotte emitted a chuckle. “All the serious stuff can come later, like when to move in together, where you’ll live, when you’ll take your first major vacation, how you plan on avoiding the mistakes you each made in your first marriages-”

Charlotte tilted sideways, gaping at Amy. “‘First marriages’? That implies I might have a second-”

“Come on, Lottie,” Amy cut her off, a touch of frustration in her voice. “Where else do you see this going? Don’t be coy and don’t think about it with the heart that is aching now. Think about it with the heart you had twenty-four hours ago.”

Yesterday, when dreams of a forever with Henry and a possibility of a lifetime of knowing him, touching him, kissing him, loving him had filled her with endless dreams. It was what she still wanted. “What if he rejects me?”

“He’s not going to, Lottie. He loves you,” her friend consoled her. “Trust him. Hell, trust yourself, for setting eyes on him from day one and knowing, without even speaking to him, that he was right for you…that he was the one.”

“Okay. I’ll do it. I’m ready to go over and try to talk to him.” Despite her shaky voice, she was resolute.

“How about some music while you get ready?” Amy got up and strode over to the stereo. “I’m assuming you still have that Eric Clapton in here?”

“Yes! I can’t listen to ‘Lay Down Sally’ without thinking about junior high.” “We must have listened to this a thousand times. I was more partial to ‘Tulsa Time’ myself.”

Charlotte left Amy humming to herself, arriving to her bedroom just as the record started. Tingling with determination, she intended to prove, no matter the cost to her own dignity, that what she and Henry shared was worth fighting for. From her closet, she chose the dress she’d worn to the street dance because nothing was as alive with memories, and as the silky fabric slid between her fingers, she shivered, recalling the press of it against her with Henry surrounding her, as he still did, and her nose found his musky scent still on her dress. Her eyes fell on her bed, covered by a patchwork quilt, a recent gift from Henry. Sewn by hand by Hutterite women who lived on a colony northeast of Beverley, he had purchased it at the farmer’s market. Charlotte had balked at the price and drifted to the next tent, where the same women were selling jellies and jams. While she was debating between blueberry/rhubarb or plum/peach, Henry bought her the quilt. He gave it to her that night, and the two of them spent hours wrapped up in it together, with Charlotte thanking him in deliciously creative ways.

Sitting at her dressing table, she twisted her hair up in the way that was sure to drive him wild. Just the other morning, she’d worn her hair the same way as they’d discussed taking a trip to Lake Tahoe over a holiday weekend in October. He’d painted a picture of the two of them canoeing and hiking during the day and dining at the finest restaurants in the evening. Just as she’d pinned up all errant strands of hair, Henry had come up behind her. In the mirror’s reflection, his hand had traced the line of her neck down the curve of her shoulder. Entranced, she watched as he bent his head, his lips following the same path. Unable to look away, she gasped as he pulled the clip from her hair, and her dark waves tumbled down over his silvery head. “You’re so beautiful, Charlotte,” his breath hot in her ear. “You absolutely mesmerize me.” Large hands caressed her, making her moan.

Flushing, she swiped some lip gloss on, body aroused with the thought of Henry. She was changing into her dress when her phone rang. It was Trixie calling. “Hey, Lottie. How are you?”

“Um, okay.” Did Henry’s sister know about their disagreement last night?

“Oh, good. Everyone is missing you at the brunch, so I thought I’d reach out. Henry is walking around like a sad puppy.”

Eyes welling with tears, she fought them back. “He is?”

“Of course he is; he’s so lovesick that he’s hardly eaten a thing. And you know how we love our food!”

Though Trixie’s tone was upbeat, Charlotte recognized an undercurrent of concern, and it broke her. Her determination quietly crumbled, and she allowed herself to succumb to tears. “Trixie, I messed things up.” That was as far as she made it, her sobs so loud that Amy came into the bedroom.