Taking Second Chances

***Trigger warning: Trauma, Verbal Abuse, Loss, Grief

Taking Second Chances 

The box arrived on a brisk Tuesday morning. Michael had barely begun to reach for the doorknob when a blast of wind blew the front door open. A cool breeze shot through the house and shocked the warmth from his face. In disbelief, he dropped to one knee and began to investigate the box someone had left on his front doorstep.

The box was small, and he was almost sure he hadn’t ordered anything. Outside the streets were empty, and day had yet to break. He rolled his eyes as he ambitiously forced his key into the ignition. The sound of a sputtering engine was, in all actually, a relief to him. But with his performance review around the corner, he could already hear his boss's speech about his "less than satisfactory attendance." He slammed my back against the chair and gripped the steering wheel. 

“Dammit!” 

Frustrated, he pushed the car door so hard it flew back and nearly hit him in the face. His hand shot up and caught the edge of it as he stood up walking toward the hood of my new Esmarod 950. As he opened the hood, he couldn’t find one visible issue, nor did he desire to inspect further. He shut the hood, closed the driver's seat door, and grabbed the mysterious package that he had placed on the dashboard. Sighing, he rubbed his left temple. Nothing would serve as a valid explanation to his boss at this point and he had no intention of trying to come up with one. He'd missed a lot of work this month due to the anniversary of his grandmother's passing. 

He set the package on the table and turned to walk away when he heard the thud of the box hitting the ground. He held my breath and closed my eyes, counting backward from ten. He breathed in and out slowly. As he picked up the box from the ground, he realized it was much too light to have made such a sound. Filled with curiosity he began tearing open the top. As he opened the package, he froze. Inside was a blue and white photo album he had not seen since the divorce. He held his breath and braced himself for the memories that would terrorize him. Flashes of his worst mistakes still riddled his dreams. He'd barely begun to move on since the day Katrina, his ex-wife had left.

Inside the album, the pictures were all still the same. It almost made him feel as if this was some act of forgiveness. Katrina always had a way of seeing good where it didn’t exist and forgave things that no one else would have. She truly was beautiful in this way he’d never fully acknowledged. She had this radiant glow and a smile that shamed the sky. The pictures of their house, their white picket fence, and the porch swing he took hours to build mocked him. 

Katrina loved the idea of being a mom- nothing else had made her face light up the way the positive pregnancy result had. She screeched as she ran, nearly shoving the test in my face. I had never felt more inadequate. I had married her and made vows that I had no pretense for. I prided myself on my ability to remain undetected at the time. I’d even convinced myself that I was protecting her from ending up with someone who’d corrupt her uniquely naive nature. Interestingly enough, I loved coming home to a woman who reminded me of my grandmother. But I did not intend on sharing my home with a kid. The shock on her face at that moment is still the most painful thing I’ve ever seen, “Abbort it.” 

Michael slammed the album closed......he did not deserve her forgiveness. He grieved Katrina instantly the day she left and regretted that he’d never been faithful to her in any capacity. In some twisted way, he thought he was protecting her from realizing she married a fraud. His mom had died in child labor and his grandmother raised him from that point on. His grandmother was an incredible woman. She loved wholeheartedly and truly believed that anyone could be forgiven. He always struggled with her concepts about mercy and her obscure religiosity- another woman whose love he had utterly taken for granted. 

She always said, “Forgiveness is always available if we are willing to accept responsibility for our actions and prepare for the undoing.” 

Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about the photo album. He looked down at the water running into the teapot. I was planning to quit, probably be better if I could collect unemployment. He hadn’t realized he’d turned the stove on already as he reached up into the cupboard to grab a mug, a chamomile tea packet, and a melatonin. He hadn’t been sleeping and the depression had nearly swallowed him more recently.

The screech of the teapot startled him, and he nearly dropped the mug. He quickly tore open the teabag and grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer. Placing the melatonin under his tongue, lifting the teapot off the burner. As he poured the hot water into his mug, he watched the ice cubes dissolve. He took a deep breath and took a sip. The warmth of the tea was soothing and as he walked into his room, a memory flashed through his mind. 

I can’t believe I’m doing this... Devin better be serious about this date. He’d better pray this woman is amazing and not some unfortunate-looking person who men were purposely overlooking. His eyes dashed toward the time left on the GPS and the address. 

Suddenly, it dawned on him where he'd seen the sender’s address on the box, before. That’s not even possible, he thought to himself as his body slumped down into the bed. That was seven years ago and why would Katrina...? The melatonin began taking effect quicker than it normally did. He felt heat trickling down his neck into his spine as his eyes closed and he slipped into his dreams. 

Lightning danced across his mind. He could hear the voices of everyone he’d ever known swirling around his head. Memory upon memory was stacked up into a tornado and he felt the weight of his mistakes, decisions, and life drop into the water. The impact was shocking, and yet he knew this was only a dream. The sunlight warmed his face as he drifted off to the sea.  The wind lifted him from the water.

A loud deep roll of thunder spoke into the water saying to him, “Do you believe in second chances? .... Do you believe in third or fourth...? Do you believe in mercy? Open your eyes, Michael!” 

His eyes opened slowly expecting to see the ceiling of his bedroom but instead, he stood in front of the cafe where he first met Katrina. He shook his head trying to shake himself into reality. Wake up, Michael....wake up. This is not really happening. As he was thinking, someone bumped into him. 

He snapped, “Come on! Watch where you’re going, man.” He felt guilty instantly, looking at the frail old man who’d accidentally bumped into him. He smiled at me apologetically and stretched out his hand. 

  “That was a mistake son, but everyone deserves a second chance. The name is Jesse.” 

Michael's eyes widened in disbelief. He swallowed hard and reached to shake his hand. This cannot be happening...he thought to himself.

“Michael,” he replied. “Where am I?"

“Your father knew he was wrong, but you were never bound by his mistakes. Somehow, I think you’ve always been confused. When you first met Cathrine, she loved you through your grandmother’s passing and you fell in love with the way she reminded you of her too. We all have done something that is horrendously unworthy of forgiveness, Mikey.” Jesse seemed fairly amused by my question and his answer frightened Michael.  Michael stared at Jesse in disbelief. 

Jesse chuckled, “Yes, I did say that- Mikey."

Michael still couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Only his grandmother had ever called him that. 

Jesse interrupted his train of thought, “So, are you willing?” 

Mike swallowed hard, “Willing to do what?” He was confused as to what Jesse was referring to.

Jesse looked at him shocked, “To forgive yourself and undo history? As far as I know, you received a box that was a blast to the past.” Jesse chuckled. 

  “Okay, old man! I’m not sure where I am or if I will ever take melatonin again, but are you actually proposing that I went seven years back into the past to the day when I met Katrina?! Are you nuts?!” 

Jesse grinned from ear to ear and pointed waved his hand toward the cafe. 

“See for yourself.” 

There was no denying that Michael had spent three years regretting everything he had done leading up to the divorce. He couldn’t count the times he'd wished that going back and handling things differently was a possibility. Michael paused as he reached the door and turned back to see that Jesse was no longer standing behind him. Pulling the door of the cafe open, Michael felt years of pain dissolving. He couldn’t believe his eyes as his second chance stood up and began walking toward him.