The Girl He Loves: A Second Chance Romantic Comedy Page 7

  We disconnect, me still in limbo. I sit at the small built-in desk in my kitchen and use my laptop to search out other degree options, but don’t come away with anything of interest that’s not going to require several more years in school.

  Feeling a little hopeless as the clock quickly ticks down to my deadline, I go into the living room where Dax and Tyler are playing Battleship.

  Dax is tempting us both with going out to eat when he gets a phone call. He steps outside to take it, briefly glancing at me through the sliding door. When he comes back in, he’s distracted.

  “Listen, I’m sorry, but there’s something I have to take care of. Can I get a raincheck and do dinner out another night?”

  Tyler’s face is crestfallen.

  I stroke my son’s head. “Sure, Dax.”

  Less than ten minutes later, he’s out the door. I’m grateful I kept my expectations to zero. And this sadness that he’s gone is only because he made the day different, and different is always refreshing and hard to let go. Right? Of course, that’s it.

  Chapter 10

  Monday

  Jayne pauses, box cutter in hand, and says, “So you’re telling me you had great sex in the back of your minivan, he shows up the next day—”

  “No thanks to you,” I remind her.

  “Right. I buggered that up. Sorry again. But it sounds like I did you a favor.”

  “Yeah,” Josie says. “He fixed your dishwasher and gave your kid a day he’ll remember forever.”

  The three of us are in the back room of Jayne’s shop, The Daily Mirror, unboxing her latest fashion finds from her most recent European trip. Jayne’s boutique specializes in unique and personalized style for the everyday girl, but also high-end haute couture for clients she acts as a personal shopper for. Local elites who like to get clothing pieces no others in town have while pretending they’re doing the local economy a favor by supporting Jayne’s small business.

  Only, her shop’s not so small anymore. A few years ago, she thought about opening a second shop but ended up taking The Daily Mirror online with a personal shopping and outfit matching service called The Daily Closet. After customers upload a picture of themselves, Jayne and her two apprentices help them choose outfits and accessories for all occasions. Jayne makes money hand over fist, something her momma loved to say.

  I say, “Yes, he did fix my dishwasher and really made Tyler happy playing ball. At bedtime, Ty kept saying no kid his age gets to play catch with a pro football player.”

  Josie sits on a worktable and swings her legs while she eats an apple. Her long black hair is done in an Elsa braid that makes her look like a fairy princess. Well, a fairy princess with really big boobs and henna all over her body.

  She says, “Then Dax just left?”

  I shrug because Dax’s parting was the darnedest thing. And how I felt about it was more frustrating because I didn’t want him at my house in the first place, but when he left, I wanted him to stay.

  I say, “He got a phone call as we were talking about going out for dinner. I had tacos on the menu, but Dax insisted on treating us. Then his phone rang, he took the call outside, and when he came in, he apologized, spent a few more minutes with Ty, and then he left.”

  From a box on the table, Jayne takes out an Italian leather purse that cost what I make in a week. “And you didn’t see him Sunday?”

  I shake my head. And I was mad at myself for checking out the front window every time I walked by while cleaning the house. My dishwasher ran like a champ, and I wanted to thank him again. Not doing dishes by hand is a luxury.

  Josie chucks the apple core across the room at the trash can. It hits the rim and bounces in.

  “Lucky,” Jayne says.

  “All skill,” Josie says before she turns her attention to me. “Do you want anything from Dax, Heather? Like maybe even a relationship?”

  “Nope,” I say, more from habit than actual heart.

  She says, “Would you sleep with him again?”

  I’d sure thought about it a lot since he left. “That would be stupid.”

  Jayne’s brows shoot up. “That wasn’t a no.”

  Josie chuckles. “Because memories of it are keeping her awake at night.”

  We ignore her. Of all our friends, she’s the most courageous, overt, and sexual.

  Jayne says, “My guess is, the reason he left like he did was because of whoever called.”

  “And you’re sure he doesn’t have a wife,” Josie says. As a divorce lawyer, she’s also the most cynical.

  “I’ve never seen an announcement and his social media says he’s single. But it’s not like social media always tells the truth.” I say. But doubt is there. It never left, really.

  “Maybe a girlfriend?” Again Josie.

  Jayne tosses a roll of packing tape at Josie. “Why are you telling her this guy is a wanker? What if he’s a right bloke?”

  Josie shrugs and gives me an apologetic smile. “I think everyone should go in knowing the downside, is all. I bet he’s a good guy and maybe the phone call was an emergency.”

  I shake my head. “He would have said something about that.” I swipe my hand across the space in front of me. “Never mind. It’s over. He’s gone, and I got what I wanted.”

  Jayne wags her brows and says with an exaggerated English accent, “Yer boots knocked.”

  Time for a subject change. “I have bigger problems, anyway. Josie heard back from the lawyer. He said the courts are backed up, and an expedited expunging will take a minimum of three months. I shared that news with my counselor, so I’m officially not on the list for a student teaching position this fall.”

  Josie stops swinging her legs. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have turned it around faster. Have you made a decision about graduation?”

  I shake my head and choke back tears. “You know what bugs me? Even if I get my record expunged, I still have to disclose it on job applications.” This was a fun fact Josie shared with me yesterday as well. “Jamison said I have to decide soon. Class registration is next week, and we need a plan.”

  Jayne asks, “Is there another degree you might want to pursue instead? Something else you might like to do?”

  My throat gets clogged with emotion, and a tear trickles down one cheek. “I wanted this,” I say hoarsely.

  Jayne moves next to me and throws her arms around my shoulders in a side hug. “I know you did. Until you get this thing worked out, you’ll always have a job here. Don’t let that be a stressor.”

  Josie says, “We started the paperwork anyway. Brinn said he’d donate to a campaign if we thought it would help.”

  “How much do I owe you?”

  She waves me off.

  I push away from Jayne and toss my box cutter on the table. “Stop. Y’all can’t keep rescuing me]. My parents buy me tires, Jayne gives me a job, Dax fixes my dishwasher, Josie gives me a huge discount on my divorce, Paisley gives me her furniture after she moved in with Hank when she could have sold it. I can’t continue to be a charity case.”

  Josie huffs. “I think you’re confusing family, friendship, and love with charity.”

  “I want to do this on my own,” I say.

  Jayne looks confused. “Why, when you have people around you who want to help? Only those who have no one are forced to do it alone. Sadly. And when given a choice to have support or not, why would you choose not to?”

  I slump against the back wall and duck my head into my hands. Through my fingers, I say, “I just need to prove to myself I can do it.”

  Josie says, “And the fact that you’ve been doing it every day alone for the last what…three years, isn’t proof enough?”

  I look up at her. “Says the woman who walked away from her cushy life and law degree to find her brother. How many odd jobs did you work? And how much help did you take from your family? None, right?”

  She leans against the wall with me. “Yes, I see your point. I did turn my back on my family. But strangers h
elped me along the way]. That’s how I got some of those odd jobs. When my car broke down on the side of the road when I was moving here, I took a ride from two unknown guys. I took help.”

  Jayne smiles. “The fact that she ended up marrying one of those guys who gave her a ride is an oddity. None of us are asking you to join us in wedded bliss or the shacking up equivalent.”

  Josie nudges me with her shoulder. “All that to say, we’re here if you need us. Jayne's come this far in her company because you helped her run this business while she started the online portion. I think we keep going on about it because we’re afraid you won’t ask. Hell, I’d do your expunging for free, but I know you won’t let me.”

  I did feel a little foolish, digging in my heels. Yet, I needed to prove to myself I was capable. I reach out and take Josie’s hand. “I promise to ask for help and not let pride win.”

  She smiles. “That’s all we want.”

  We do a group hug. I’m very thankful for these women. I want them to know that.

  “I’m lucky to have you all,” I say.

  “I feel the same,” says Josie. Jayne echoes her.

  My phone alarm jingles, jolting us from our reverie.

  “How could I forget?” I say. “That’s my reminder for my appointment with Tyler’s neurologist.”

  Thankfully, I set reminders two hours out. I have a forty-minute drive to north Orlando for the appointment. It’s a meeting to go over his current medication and sleep study results. Thankfully, Tyler doesn’t have to endure it.

  The drive is quick; I mostly do it on autopilot. I sign in at the front desk and make one wish for the day, that the news is better than good. Then I think of Dax, wondering if he makes wishes regularly like I do.

  I take a seat next to a woman who looks like a deer caught in headlights. I know that look. I’ve had it several times. It’s fear. Fear of what the doctor will say. Fear of how you’ll handle it. Fear of the billion unknowns that you can't even begin to wrap your mind around. Will my child be okay? Will he have a good life? How can I bear as much of his burden as possible for them him?

  She stares at the clipboard, her pen hovering over the page. But not moving. Only blinking. She's dressed well, makeup done, hair styled. But she's missed a button on her shirt, and her nails looked chewed from worry. I used to look like her when Tyler’s seizures were new and I thought, if I kept life the same, they'd disappear as suddenly as they'd come. But like this woman next to me, I was falling apart inside, and it was creeping its way out.

  I touch her arm, and she jumps.

  “First time, right?” I say quietly.

  She nods. Tears puddle in her eyes. I don’t say it’s going to be okay because I don’t know. We never do.

  “You can do this,” I say. “It’s okay to be scared. There’s so much to take in. Just go one step at a time.”

  “How old?” She gulps. “How old is your child?”

  “Eight next month, but he was diagnosed at four. Yours?”

  “Four. She’s just a baby.” The tears spill down her face.

  “I know. And it’s so unfair. What’s her name?”

  “Madison.”

  I take the clipboard from her then write Madison on the form. “What’s your name?”

  “Lisa. Lisa Foster.”

  I stick out my hand. “Hi, Lisa Foster. I’m Heather Michaels.” We shake, and I squeeze her hand softly to give her strength. Then I write her name on the correct line on the form. “Can I help you with this?” I tap my pen to the paper.

  She nods.

  We fill out the form together. Me acting as scribe. She tells me about Madison, and I tell her about Tyler. I invite her to the Facebook support group I run for parents of kids with learning difficulties and epilepsy. She joins on the spot.

  “Doctor Carpenter is amazing. She’ll say a lot today, but everything she tells you she’ll have on paper for you to read later because you won’t remember everything from this appointment. But you can reach out to me if you need to go over it again afterward or have any questions. I can try to help.”

  Lisa nods.

  I give her a side hug. We’re from the same tribe. It’s the our-kids-have-a-diagnosis-and-we’re-scared tribe.

  Doctor Carpenter is standing in the doorway that separates the waiting room from the back offices. She smiles at me. “Heather, you ready, or do you need a few minutes?”

  I ask Lisa if she’s okay. She nods. Following another hand squeeze, I leave her behind to follow the good doctor and wait for the news she has to share. Good or bad.

  We take a seat in her office, and she smiles. “That was something out there. What you did for her.”

  I shrug. “Mom helping a mom.”

  “Not a lot of people are good at that. Working with scared parents.”

  “Maybe because I’ve been there it’s easier?”

  She studies me for a second. “I have a personal question, and I apologize for being so nosy, but did you go to college?”

  I blow out a sigh. “I’m almost done. I have a minor in psychology and I’m looking at getting my bachelors in child studies.” This is what Jamison called the new track she wants to put me on.

  Doctor Carpenter's smile gets large. “Heather, I have an opportunity you might be interested in.”

  Chapter 11

  Monday

  I text my friends after leaving Dr. Carpenter’s. Wow, what an appointment it was. Marvelous news about Tyler’s sleep study and medication. Stable and long periods of no seizure activity is just what I like to hear. Her offer was the cherry on top.

  On the drive home I fill in my counselor, Jamison, having caught her right before she left the office. Then I fill Mom in on Tyler’s results when I pick him up from my mom’s.

  I ask the gang to meet me at my house, and I splurge. I grab takeout Thai food for everyone. I only balked once at the cost. But I don’t care. I’m celebrating that maybe, just maybe, my luck has turned.

  We get home ten minutes before my friends arrive. Josie’s carrying wine. Paisley has cookies. It’s officially a girls' night.

  Paisley says, “I’m glad you called when you did before I made the drive home to Jacksonville. I’m finding once I get on the road, I don’t want to turn back.”

  Last month Paisley moved in with Hank, who’s stationed in Jacksonville. Her daily commute is an hour and a half one way, but she only has ten more weeks of the school year left before she’s done for good. Paisley, an occupational therapist like my sister-in-law Kenley, will be saying goodbye to her school therapy job, getting married, and moving to Japan.

  I forgot about her commute. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I appreciate you coming, but you don’t have to stay if you want to get on the road.”

  She flings an arm around my shoulder. “Are you kidding? I won’t miss that traffic for nothing. Besides, Hank has duty, so he’s sleeping on base, and I can stay with Josie. It’s a win for everyone. And I smell Thai food, so there’s no way you’re getting rid of me now.”

  I’ll miss her desperately. It was Paisley who’d been the kind, gentle person to guide me down Tyler’s medical path. She’s been my unwavering light in the storm. I side-hug her back.

  “I can’t stand it,” Jayne says. “Tell us the news!”

  They’re gathered in my kitchen. Tyler’s already dug through the many boxes of food and taken what he wants. He’s disappeared into the living room to watch TV.

  “Okay, get this,” I say and clasp my hands together in excitement. “Tyler’s seizures haven’t increased and the medicine seems to be keeping him stable.”

  The group cheers, and Jayne hugs me while jumping up and down.

  Josie holds up a wine bottle in each hand. “I should have brought champagne, not red wine.”

  I wave my hands to get their attention. “Wait, that’s not all. Though by far that’s the best news, but get this.” I tell them about how I helped Lisa fill out her forms in the doctor’s waiting room. That I used the same c
alm, soft mannerisms Paisley did with me. I tell them how Dr. Carpenter witnessed it. “And… she offered me a job.”

  The group gasps in delight.

  “A job?” asks Jayne. “What sort?”

  I take plates out of the cabinet and hand one to each of them. “It’s called a child life specialist. It’s working with families and kids as they go through these big life events. Surgeries, the unthinkable, you name it.”

  Paisley pauses as she’s scooping rice. “That’s actually perfect for you. I wish I’d thought of it.” She meets my gaze. “It’s not always going to be an easy job. But then, neither is teaching.”

  Josie asks, “And you can do this with your criminal record?” She winks.

  I smile. “Yes, I still want to get the record expunged, but it’s not essential. I told Dr. Carpenter about it and she didn’t seem worried. I already spoke with my college counselor and I have most of the required classes. I’m two short, but I can take them as online evening classes. So that’s good. What’s even better is that I can graduate at the end of summer if I want.”

  Paisley asks, “Isn’t there an internship? If I remember right, when I was doing mine, there was another gal there doing one as a child life specialist.”

  This was the downside to this new opportunity. Though, in perspective, it was really no different from my student teaching. “Yes, I’ll have to do a three-month internship starting in May at the hospital in Orlando, which is where the position will be.” Not the logistically perfect internship of working in Tyler’s school, as I’d hoped. The drive alone would be a juggle. Previously, I had planned to work after school at Jayne’s shop until six-thirty, giving me fifteen hours a week, but now that extra time would be eaten up by my drive to and from Orlando. I’d planned for the cut in pay a year ago by saving what I could. But now I’ll be even shorter on income than expected because, not only would I start sooner than expected, but the additional loss of income is a hard hit for a hand-to-mouth household. [My friends know this. We’ve drafted loads of budgets trying to plan for the worst-case scenario.