SECOND CHANCE
By Amelie Rose
Copyright 2011 Icon Management Ltd
Smashwords Edition
Jennifer Martin peered at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and her heart sank. The wedding was just a few hours away and she looked terrible. With so little time, how was she going to erase the damage of the last few hours?
Just a few feet away in the bedroom her carefully chosen mother-of-the-bride ensemble hung on a wooden coat stand beside the still unmade bed. She had been so excited when she brought it home but now the highly anticipated day had arrived and she was having second thoughts about lots of things, including what she was going to wear.
Was it only two weeks since she had visited the smart High Street boutique she shopped in occasionally when she wanted something special to wear? She was walking on cloud nine when she left with the outfit everyone in the shop had insisted was just made for her. One assistant had said what a knock-out she was going to be as mother-of-the-bride. It had made her feel good at the time even though she knew they said things like that to everyone.
She thought back, recalling the strange mix of sadness and excitement that had enveloped her when the kids sprang their big news. She’d said all the right things, hugged and kissed them both, and joined with them in a toast to future happiness from a warm bottle of cheap bubbly she’d found in the pantry and which none of them could drink beyond the first sip. At least it had made them all laugh and taken away any shyness and awkwardness.
Delight at the prospect of her 27-year-old tomboy daughter finally settling down with such a nice steady young man as Luke Foster had been just as genuine as the other emotions she had kept hidden. Those were hers alone to live with and she would rather jump off the closest bridge than allow them to taint her daughter’s happiness.
Now the big day was here and, happy as she was, the old sadness she had become so adept at hiding from the world was back, threatening to ruin the day for her and, by proxy, everyone around her.
“Oh, Ted, if only you were still here,” she whispered, blinking back the moisture that brimmed suddenly in her blue eyes.
She wasn't sure when it had happened but, at some stage over the past few days, the realization that she was about to be alone for the first time in 28 years, hit her.
The night before, feeling vaguely subdued, she had declined Lily's offer to go to a movie with her and Sarah, her best friend and bridesmaid, wondering that of all nights how her daughter could even consider doing something so casual and mundane.
"Mum," Lily laughed, “I can't just sit around twiddling my thumbs all evening, I'll go stir crazy."
"Well, I guess you know what works for you," she conceded.
Jennifer recalled the eve of her own wedding where the family home was spilling over with out-of-town relatives who all wanted to reminisce and drink wine. It had been like a big family fest with lots of loud laughter and yelling above the happy din. She remembered it now with a sniffle and a smile.
When the girls had gone she enjoyed a relaxing soak in a warm bath after which, freshly powdered and robed, she settled in the parlor with a small sherry before retiring early in the hopes of having a good night’s sleep. She desperately wanted to feel fresh and relaxed by the morning.
But her busy mind refused to rest, a hundred minor details fighting for her attention with the memories of her own wedding and life with Ted until he was so cruelly and prematurely snatched in that horrible work site accident.
Finally, at dawn, sheer weariness won over and she drifted off, only to be woken what seemed like immediately, by the shrill bleeping of her alarm.
Having killed the noise with a clumsy whack of the `off’ button, she dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom where she was met by a stranger, staring groggily out at her from the vanity mirror.
Some time later, cleansed and moisturised, she was lying on the bed with her eyes shut, praying for a fairy god-mother to arrive, equipped with wand and make-up artist, when there was a knock on the bedroom door.
"Mother? Are you awake? Uncle Phil's here, he’s out on the patio.”
Then she called to someone, probably Sarah, and to the sound of feet pounding on the stairs Jennifer was alone again.
Forcing herself to sit up she looked at the bedside clock and rolled her eyes when she saw it was after eight, the time she had asked Phillip to arrive.
“I think you should be here early,” she had told him the day before, envisaging herself as up, dressed and tending to any last-minute catastrophes, “just in case anything goes wrong that needs a man to fix.”
“Coming from Miss Independent, sounds like the wedding jitters are getting to you,” he had grinned.
“Don’t be silly.”
She hadn’t meant to snap and quickly added, “I just want everything to run smoothly, that’s all.”
Back in the bathroom she prodded gingerly at the area beneath her eyes, wondering hopefully if the new photo finish foundation she had bought would cover the unsightly dark shadows.
When a short time later she stepped out onto the patio, it seemed she had succeeded.
"Jen, you look amazing.”
The man seated beside Lily on a long stone bench, amid pots and urns spilling over with trailing, feathery plant-life in a myriad of colours, was gazing at her with a look of admiration clear on his strong, deeply tanned features.
She saw Phil so often she took his good looks for granted but today, something about seeing him sitting there with her still sleep tousled daughter, looking every inch the Greek God with his lean muscular physique, sun bleached hair and gentle smile, made her catch her breath.
His grey eyes twinkled as he stood to greet her and, feeling unusually self-conscious, she turned her cheek for his kiss.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“A little.”
“If anyone should be nervous, it should be me,” interjected Lily in a cheerful voice that clearly said she was not in the least bit so.
“Oh, that’ll be the hairdresser,” she said as the front door chimes rang out. “I’ll leave you two to it.” And with a sly wink at Phil she disappeared inside.
Oblivious to the silent communication between the pair, Jennifer crossed to the tea trolley and picked up the pretty hand painted teapot. As she began to pour herself a cup she was unprepared for the sudden flashback, which placed her side by side with a much younger Phil on the bank of a small pond, as they skimmed pebbles across the water.
The tennis tournament in the next village had been lots of fun and a successful day for their club with Phil winning the men's singles trophy and he and Jennifer’s boyfriend, Ted, taking out the men's doubles. Heading home the three friends were all in high spirits when a blow-out sent Ted's old Morris swerving to a stop in the narrow lane.
Discovering the spare was also flat and, treating the whole thing like a huge joke, the boys tossed a coin to see who would walk the mile back down the lane to the nearest service station to have the tyre repaired. Ted lost.
Phil spun another pebble and, as it skipped across the water, he reached for another, grabbing hold of her fingers instead. For a moment neither moved then slowly, as though pulled by an invisible string, they turned towards each other. The kiss was sweet and gently lingering but as he reached to pull her closer a car roared down the lane and the spell was broken. Breaking guiltily apart they edged aside, placing more distance between them while they awaited Ted’s return.
It was a long timeless wait, interjected only by Phil mumbling something about being sorry and returning early to university.
She didn’t answer. She felt dreadful – she and Ted were almost engaged. The feelings she had started to feel recently for Ted’s best friend had to be stopped. She’d heard about people in a secure loving relationship being led astray and losing everything that mattered and she wasn’t going to be one of them. She was as much to blame for the kiss as Phil was but it was not going to happen again, ever.
As another pebble skimmed fiercely across the glassy surface a loud hail sounded from behind and they turned to see Ted sprinting along the lane towards them, the wheel bowling before him like a circus hoop.
"Hey, you haven’t heard a word I've been saying,” said a deep voice at Jennifer’s side and she turned towards it with a start.
"It’s the wedding..." she lied, trying to sound calm, "it's got me tied up in knots, I hardly slept last night." That bit was true at least, she thought.
His hands moved to rest on her shoulders and she felt herself being pressed gently but firmly down to the stone bench.
"I’m not surprised," he smiled, as he leaned towards the tea trolley. "You never could do anything by halves."
Picking up the abandoned teapot he filled a cup and handed it to her then turned to pour one for himself.
When he was sitting down beside her he lifted his cup and stared at the exquisite, hand-painted rosebuds on the outer rim.
"You know," he said, "I remember the day I bought this. I wanted to give you something beautiful rather than practical when you married Ted."
Feeling suddenly nervous she raised the cup to her lips and took a sip then rose and crossed to the edge of the patio, putting several paces between them.
Ignoring the obvious distraction he continued.
“I’ve always known there was something special about you.” He hesitated for a moment then added, “You just seem to attract loveliness."
He’s being nice, she thought, trying to help me overcome these darned nerves. She reached out with a shaking hand and put her cup and saucer back on the trolley.
He moved quickly, placing his cup beside hers and taking her hands in his before she could retreat further.
"A few minutes ago,” he said, tightening his grip as she tried to pull back, “Lily called me a romantic.” He held her gaze and added softly, “She was right - at least where you're concerned."
She wanted to escape but her hands were still held firmly in his. In spite of herself she couldn’t help noticing how drawn he looked beneath the deep outdoors tan that was his natural look despite spending much of his working life in an office.
"I haven't slept for nights thinking about this," he said, pulling her hands against his chest.
She didn’t know what to say so she looked away but he placed a hand on her cheek and drew her back to face him. And then he told her that he loved her, his voice tight with emotion.
“You must know," he said, watching for a response and when she refused to meet his gaze, he released her.
"There’s something I need to ask," he said, finally, a deep sigh revealing the nervousness he was feeling. "Jen…look at me,” he pleaded, “Jen…will you marry me?"
She hadn't expected this and, while they stood there looking at one another, all she could do was to shake her head from side to side, the colour in her cheeks deepening from the surprise and confusion she was feeling.
"Jennifer,” he urged, “say something. Say yes."
She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move. How could he ask this of her? Today of all days? As if of its own volition her head shook from side to side and then she found her voice.
"Of…of course I care,” she blurted, “you’re my oldest friend but…"
The words stuck in her throat but she forced them out.
"I…I mean where did this come from?” She glared at him now. “You of all people know how I feel about getting married again. I’m just never going to do it and you know that.”
He looked devastated. He had thought with Lily getting married it would be the perfect time to tell Jennifer how he felt. They were both still young enough to begin a lifetime commitment and he was sure she had feelings for him, even though they had never talked about it. Hell, it looked like he’d got it all horribly wrong.
He stayed where he was, staring at the open doorway that the woman he loved had just rushed through. He should have been satisfied with what he had but he had opened his big mouth and ruined everything. After today she probably wouldn’t want to ever see him again.
It was almost three years since Ted had died. Now with Lily wed his excuses for calling by would be limited. He slumped wearily onto the stone bench and put his head in his hands.
His hopes for the future were gone. He saw himself in the years ahead, trailing around after the woman he loved like some benign uncle, and felt physically sick.
So that was that. He’d made up his mind that if she turned him down he’d leave. He had no choice, he’d have to go, it was agony wanting her every time he laid eyes on her.
Alone in her room Jennifer lay on her bed and stared blankly at the ceiling through hot dry eyes.
What was the matter with her? This should be one of the best days of her life yet here she was, acting like a teenager sulking over a spat with her boyfriend. What was she thinking of, walking out on Phil like that? Surely their relationship meant more than that. He’d been her rock since Ted died, she wasn’t sure she would have survived without him. All he’d done was offer her a life and she’d responded like a spoiled brat With no more sense than she was born with.
After a few moments going over and over Phil’s proposal in her mind she reached over to the bedside table and picked up a silver picture frame.
Lying back she stared at the dear face. It worried her that it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep Ted’s image in the forefront of her mind and she seemed to need his photograph to do so, more and more.
If only he were here, she sighed, hugging the cold silver to her. If he was she wouldn’t have to worry about disloyal thoughts and feelings and Lily would have her father to give her away.
`People do love again, you know.' The voice was familiar. Recently it had popped up at the oddest moments, nudging away at the back of her mind, making her feel like the most disloyal of wives.
Her own mother had been widowed young. She had never remarried and after Ted’s death, when the initial shock was over and life started to take on a semblance of normality, she had simply accepted that her life would follow a similar track.
“One good marriage is more than most get,” was the older woman’s mantra whenever the subject arose, “and I was lucky. My Frank was the best there is, why would I want to replace him?”
The trouble was, Jennifer was no longer convinced about the rightness of her mother’s thinking - at least for her. And she was becoming less and less sure, even though it went against everything she had ever been taught.
`You think about him all the time,' the voice whispered now, `You are in love with him.’
"No, no it’s not true,” she sobbed, “it’s not.”
"Shouldn't you be getting dressed?"
She hadn’t heard the door open. Seeing Lily, dressed only in half-slip
and bra, watching her curiously from the doorway, brought her to the edge of the bed, brushing her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Mother, we have to talk."
The soft mattress sank lower as Lily sat on the bed and a pair of sea
green eyes, so similar to Jennifer’s own, fixed narrowly on her tear-stained face.
"If you don’t mind my saying so,” she said, “you look a bit of a mess."
Jennifer stared back, caught by her daughter’s uncharacteristic bluntness.
Then Lily reached out and wrapped her long fingers warmly about her mother’s ice cold ones.
"I’m not trying to be cruel, I know how much you miss Daddy." She gave a gentle squeeze. "I do too but we can’t live our lives longing for what’s past."
Before she could blink them away, two large tears spilled over and rolled down Jennifer’s cheeks.
"Do you remember when I was 13 and I lost out on the lead in the school play?" Lily asked with a grin. "I thought my whole world had fallen to bits when they chose Elaine Godwit instead."
Remembering, Jennifer gave a wobbly smile and nodded as she reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table.
"Daddy told me then that when a door closed in life another one always
opened. So I tried out for Cinderella in the Christmas panto and found he was right. I got the part."
She grinned at the memory. "Elaine was green - it was a much better part."
"I remember," Jennifer giggled, dabbing at her face with a handful of tissues. "He always knew the right thing to say, didn't he?"
Lily nodded. "Mother, I know what he’d say to you now if he were able. He'd say find someone to love and be happy.” A secret smile glinted in her eyes, “...and I don’t think you’d have to look far."
She glanced at her watch and patted Jennifer’s hand like a comforting aunt. "I’ve got to get ready and so do you. I hope I haven’t upset you,” she added, looking suddenly unsure. “All I want is for you to be happy."
"I know," Jennifer assured her as she eyed the bedside clock, “and I’m not really upset, it’s just that some things take more time and some of us are slow learners."
Crossing to the stately walnut dresser she had found years ago in a second hand shop and restored, she took up her hairbrush and bent towards the mirror.
"Help!" she gasped at the red rimmed eyes that stared back at her, “I look worse than before."
Grinning widely, Lily left the room.
***
Twenty minutes later, Jennifer looked in the mirror and smoothed her hands over the exquisitely tailored fabric of the beautiful suit she’d almost decided not to wear.
It was amazing how much better she felt. Her eyes looked brighter and her skin glowed beneath the fine makeup she’d carefully applied. Perhaps Lily was right – maybe it was time to follow her own path. She knew the signs had been there for some time, she had just been trying to ignore them.
From the bay window in her bedroom she could see one corner of the patio. She watched, noting the unruly flop of sun-bleached hair that tumbled across Phil’s brow as he thumbed half-heartedly through one of her gardening books, and the lean smoothly-shaven profile, tanned and healthy from a life of outdoor pursuits. Maturity, she thought, had definitely enhanced his endearing good looks, softening and refining them.
Her heart squeezed suddenly with remorse at the realisation of what a complete idiot she had been. Love didn't always offer a second chance and she'd almost thrown hers away. She hoped she hadn't blown it.
She was still dithering in the doorway when he looked up. Even from where she stood she could see the deep hurt in his eyes. She stepped forward, hoping he would recognise in her what her lips weren’t yet able to say.
"Jennifer?" he murmured as she came close and he saw the look in her wide green eyes.
She wanted to speak, to tell him how she felt, but the words wouldn’t come. And then he opened his arms and all hesitation fled as she flung herself into them.
"Oh Jen...Jen," he said softly into her hair as he gathered her to him.
In response she slipped her hands around his neck and drew his face down to hers.
"I love you," she whispered and, quickly, before her nerve deserted her, “Will you marry me?"
She held her breath as he frowned down, grey eyes dark with disbelief. Then his arms tightened about her until she thought all her breath would be squeezed out and, whispering her name over and over, his lips finally claimed hers in a kiss that had waited a lifetime for this moment.
In the open doorway Lily stood, hands clasped before her like a delighted child. At last, and on her wedding day too, she thought as she gathered up her lace train and stepped out onto the patio.
When Uncle Phil gave her away in less than an hour, it would be a double celebration – and she didn’t mind sharing it one bit.
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