Second Chance

Second Chance

by

Valerie Allen

“That's okay, Melanie, I understand.” Olivia tucked the phone between her shoulder and her chin and moved from the sink toward her laptop on the kitchen table. “I appreciate you letting me know. I'll be alright, the Melbourne Airport has a shuttle to the Orlando Airport. I'll give them a call.” Olivia glanced at the time. “I'll check to see if I have enough time to catch it.” She hung up and let out a deep sigh.

Doug wandered into the kitchen. “What's going on?”

Olivia didn't look up. She continued to search the computer for Airport Shuttle Service. “Melanie just called. She can't take me to the airport this afternoon. I'm checking to see when the next shuttle bus leaves.” She scanned the computer screen. “Can you drive me to the Melbourne Airport? I can take the shuttle from there to the Orlando Airport.”

Doug knitted his eyebrows. “Never can depend on a friend to come through for you.”

“That's not true.” Olivia shook her head, not looking away from the computer screen. “Melanie has done a lot for me over the years. Her grandbaby was sick today and she has to pick him up from daycare.”

Doug shook his head. “All I know is, if you want something done, you better do it yourself.”

Fingers still paused over the keyboard, Olivia turned her head to look at her husband. “Okay, Mr. Grumpy, but can you take me to the Melbourne Airport? I can call a cab if you don't have time.”

“No, no. Don't do that—cost an arm and a leg. I guess I can drive you. When do we need to leave?”

Olivia stood and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “In about half an hour. The shuttle leaves on the hour from Melbourne, so I'll have to kill about two hours waiting in Orlando.”

“That's exactly why I hate to travel.”

“Yes, I know.” She shrugged and headed toward the bedroom. She called over her shoulder, “That's why God created good books—for the layover at airports.”

Doug followed her and watched as she carefully folded her clothes and rolled her socks. “Where are you going again?”

She tilted her head. “Honey, how could you forget? I'm going to North Carolina.”

“Oh, that's right, to visit the kids.”

“Of course, and the grandkids.” She smiled, her eyes shining. “The twins are turning 13 and they're graduating from eighth grade. It's an exciting time for them.”

Doug rubbed his hand along his jaw. “Well, you know I'd go, but I have to finish this project. Heck of a thing to get bogged down with now.”

“I know.” She held a shirt up to her chin and looked in the mirror.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Two weeks.” She placed a pair of shoes in a plastic bag and put them into the suitcase. “It's all on the calendar if you need the details. It's on the front of the frig.”

“Hmm, well I guess I could fly up on Friday and stay for the weekend.”

She turned and eased herself up, shoulders pulled back. “No, no.” She waved her hands. “It's not necessary. Besides, there's no room. I'm sharing a room with Sheryl. George and Melissa are in the guest room.”

“I didn't know this was a command performance for both sets of grandparents.”

“Honey, it's not a command performance,” she said patiently. “We all want to be there. This is a major family event.”

“A major event?” He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “I turned 13, I graduated from eighth grade. I don't remember my whole family showing up to celebrate. I don't think it's such a big deal.”

She pursed her lips. “Yes. I know. That's why you don't need to be there.” She bent over the suitcase and smoothed the clothes with her hand.

“Why all the fuss?” he asked.

She stood straight. “Doug, to me it's not a fuss. I love being with the family. I like traveling. I enjoy eating in new places, talking, and sharing ideas.”

He waved his hand as if swatting at a fly. “I hate all that stuff. Making small talk. Who cares?”

She placed both hands on his chest. “Yes. I know. That's why you should be happy you're not going.”

He frowned. “Now you're making me feel left out.”

“Doug, we're not leaving you out. You don't enjoy family events. You avoid them every chance you get. You don't enjoy parties or get-togethers. You don't like to try new things, so we leave you alone to enjoy the life you want.”

“Well, I don't know about that.”

“Well, I do. You're just an ol' stick-in-the-mud.” She pinched him on the cheek as if he was a young child. “A lovable one, but still no party animal.”

He watched as she put her cosmetics into a small, cloth bag. He studied her. “Do you love me?” he asked quietly.

She stopped and stared at him. “Of course, I love you.” She tucked her hand into his. “We've been married for 36 years. Do you think I'd still be here if I didn't love you?”

He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “Do you have to stay gone for two full weeks?”

She tugged her hand away. “Doug, I don't have to stay, I want to stay. I like being with people. I like going places and doing things.”

“How about doing something with me? We could do some things together.”

Olivia took a deep breath. “Yes, we could,” she said slowly, “but our togetherness activities don't usually go well.”

“What are you saying?” He looked puzzled.

“Okay. Let's give it a try.” She smiled and ticked off on her fingers. “Can we try a new restaurant? Will you be ready on time? Will you change your shirt? Can we invite friends?”

He rubbed his hand along his chin and stared at her.

She pointed her finger at him, mimicking an old school matron. “No, no, no, and no.” She placed both hands on her hips. “These are not things you like to do. I'm used to it after all these years and I'm okay with it. I leave you alone because that's what you want and I do just fine on my own. I do the things I want.”

He touched her on the shoulder. “Without me.”

She looked into his eyes and lowered her voice. “Yes, without you.”

Silence filled the space between them.

“I've been thinking, Olivia. You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, Doug. I know you love me.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “I guess I got sidetracked over the years.”

“Doug, you're a good man.”

“I am?”

“Of course, you are and I'm proud of you.”

“You are?”

“Yes. You've worked hard; you've done well. You've always provided for us.”

He watched as she pulled a jacket from the closet. She shoved two books into a side pocket of her suitcase. He bowed his head and studied the pattern in the carpet.“I did work hard, but I missed out on a lot.”

“Yes, you did, but you can't go back and fix that now.”

He raised his chin and looked at her. “Can I move forward? Can we move forward?”

“I have moved forward,” Olivia said.

Disquiet crossed his face. “What do you mean?”

She sat on the bed beside him and put her hand on his knee. “Okay, let me give you a little test. Do you know where I work? Do you know what I do?”

“Of course. You cook the books for a building company.” He laughed.

She pulled her hand away. “No, that's not what I do. I'm the director of finance and accounting for a large and productive construction company. I'm good at what I do. People trust me and respect my opinion. They look at me as competent and dependable. I like what I do and I do it well.”

“Sorry.” He pulled his shoulders back and took a deep breath. “I didn't realize you were so touchy about it all.”

“I'm not touchy about it,” she said in a controlled tone.

“You sure sound like it to me.”

“Now, there's the problem.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You don't know anything about me, even after all these years.”

“How was I supposed to know you were unhappy?”

She shook her head. “I'm not unhappy. We live well. We trust each other. We're there for each other.”

“Right, so what else do you want?”

“Doug, if you don't know what I need, I can't tell you. I can tell you this is not what I want.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked with alarm.

“I don't want to plead my case. I don't want to need ten good reasons for asking you to do something or go somewhere. I don't want to beg for your attention. I don't want to compete with your work.”

“You're being ridiculous,” he said.

“Maybe, but I don't want to force you to do things with me if you really don't enjoy it.”

“I had no idea this stuff was so important to you.”

“Exactly. You're in your own world.” She softened her voice. “And that's okay.” She patted him on the hand. “I accepted it a long time ago. Over the years, I've created my own world.”

“What kind of world?”

“My career, our family, my friends; the Arts, theater, volunteer work, traveling. The things I enjoy.”

“Friends? Like who?”

“You wouldn't know them.”

“You have secret friends?”

“No. Not secret friends, just people from work and organizations I belong to.” She smiled and touched his cheek. “Hmm..., but it's flattering of you to think I might have a secret friend.”

He let out a deep breath. “You know I'm just an old stuffed shirt.”

“Yes, I know and I'm not trying to make you change.”

He sat quietly for a few minutes and then looked at her. “Maybe I should change. Maybe I need to change.”

She smiled. “Well, while I've been waiting for that to happen, I decided I'd change instead.”

“How's that?”

“I gave up expecting you to be the way I wanted you to be. You're okay the way you are.”

“How did that make a difference?”

“I'm not disappointed when you don't want to do things with me. Now, I'm more comfortable doing things by myself. I've become more independent. I've made my own way in the world.”

“You sound like one of those single, career types.”

“They have a name for that.”

“What is it?”

“I'm a married-single woman.”

“What the heck is that? I never heard of such a thing. Either you're married or you're not married.”

“Well, I live my life as a single woman, but I'm very married—to you—and it works fine for both of us.”

“I'm not so sure about that. I don't know that I like not being a part of your world.”

“You've liked it all these years.”

“Well, maybe now I know better.”

“Good, I'm glad to hear that.” She lifted her suitcase from the bed and headed toward the hallway. “We've got to get going. I don't want to miss the airport shuttle.”

He watched her leave their bedroom. She shifted her handbag on her shoulder and pulled her suitcase behind her. He stood still, emotion welling up in him, feeling confused. He hurried after her. “Wait, let me take your suitcase.”

“No, that's okay, I've got it,” she said.

He strode along side of her. “Please, let me—I want to do it for you.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Sure, thanks.” His hand brushed hers as she released the handle.

His words came out in a rush. “You know, I was thinking. I could drive you to the Orlando Airport. You shouldn't have to take the shuttle from Melbourne. This would give us some time together. Maybe we could have lunch.” His breathe caught in his throat. “Maybe we could talk with each other about your work, or the family or whatever you wanted to talk about.”

She stopped and stared at him without speaking.

He looked into her eyes. “What do you think, Olivia? Could we make this work?”

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Second Chance

by

Valerie Allen

Copyright 2014

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental. Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.

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For More Information, please contact:

Valerie Allen

VAllenWriter@gmail.com

ValerieAllenWriter.com

Amazon.com/author/valerieallen

Amazon.com/dp/B00R1UB4E8

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