Second Chances (42 page)

There were no stacks of bills and catalogs, no half-done jigsaw puzzles, no partially assembled model cars.   There were no remote control vehicles, no Jack toys of any kind.  His absence was even more deeply felt in the bedroom, where the closet door exposed a gaping vacant area that his clothes used to occupy.  The electric razor that was always plugged in and dangling over the sink, dropping reddish brown whiskers was gone. No deodorant, no toothpaste, no shampoo, not one piece of Jack remained.

Isabella inhaled deeply. 
I will not cry.  I will not cry
.  Rebecca and Kyle were watching television in the living room.  They could wander upstairs at any time.  She would not allow them to see her crying lest they should become frightened.  Isabella staggered over to her night stand, put one hand on the bed, lowered herself to the floor, and reached up to grab the phone. 

She had spoken to Jessie only once since what she was referring to as the “mall incident” had occurred.  Jessie had been supportive, listening when Isabella needed her to, speaking when it was appropriate.  They knew each other so well.  Therefore, when Jessie answered the phone and heard only breathing, she knew it wasn’t a crank call.

“Isabella, what happened?”  Jessie’s voice was concerned, stern, demanding a response.

“He’s…gone…Jessie,” Isabella whispered through controlled breaths.  “He’s… really…gone.”

“Don’t move.  I’ll be right over,” her friend commanded in a hurried voice.

So Isabella didn’t.  Jessie had arrived less than twenty minutes later from the outskirts of town with her toddler, Stephen, on her hip.  She left him in the living room with the kids, who mercifully hadn’t gone in search of their one remaining parental unit.  What they would have found would probably have frightened them even more than seeing their mother cry.

Jessie slowly mounted the last flight of stairs and reaching the landing, peeked over tentatively to assess the situation.  Isabella was in a crumpled heap next to the bed.  She wasn’t crying, but the effort she exerted not to
was obviously painful.  Her face was red.  Her breathing was ragged, her appearance haggard.

Crossing the room silently, Jessie knelt by her friend and began stroking her frizzing hair.  “I don’t suppose you’d consider letting those tears out?”  Her voice was quiet and serious.

“I ...can’t...”  Isabella struggled to maintain her composure.

“What your grandmother did to you all those years ago was a terrible thing, Isabella.  There are times you have to cry, you must cry.  If you don’t cry...” Her voice trailed off.  Isabella knew what she was thinking.  It was what Isabella herself feared.  What if she just lost it? 

“What...if...I...can’t...stop?”  Her eyes were frightened.

She sighed.  “All right.  Maybe you aren’t ready to cry yet.”  Jessie stood up, walked into the bathroom, and began drawing water into the tub.  From where she lay, Isabella could see that she was lighting the candles.  The Yankee Candle scents of Hyacinth and Seaside Holiday mingled with Clean Cotton.   There was another scent too, ummm Warm Vanilla Sugar bubble bath.  Isabella rose slowly, propping herself up on one arm.  She was so weak, so physically drained...

Wordlessly, Jessie walked over, helped her onto the edge of the bed, undressed her, and prodded her toward the bath tub.  She steadied Isabella as she slipped beneath the bubbles into the soothing warm depths.  Jessie walked over, turned off the lights, and whispered, “I’ll be back up after I feed the kids and clean up, okay?”  Jessie pointed to the hook on the back of the door where Isabella’s solitary bathrobe hung limply.  “In case you want to get out before I come back.”

In the distance, Isabella could vaguely hear her children clamoring to help Jessie with dinner.  This was just another adventure to them.  They were so good, so easy to be with.  At some point, Isabella noted that the tension seemed to be slipping away.  Her shoulders weren’t as tight.  Her leg muscles weren’t aching like they had been, even her back felt less strained.  And then, a new seed was planted in Isabella’s head
.  I’m going to be just fine.
  That thought really surprised her.  She had to try it again, say it aloud to make sure she meant it, and believed it.  “I’m going to be just fine.”  She was actually excited, on the verge of being happy.

“I know you are, Isabella.”  Jessie was peeking in on her. 

Embarrassed by her earlier actions, she gave a shy smile.  “You don’t have to worry about me.  I won’t break, or crack, or whatever it is you thought was going to happen.”  Isabella stepped out of the bath tub, somewhat stronger now, definitely sturdier.  She grabbed her bathrobe and cinched it around her.  She glided across the carpeting to her bed, then climbed under the comforter and leaned back against her layers of pillows.  Jessie pointed to her night stand.  There were more candles lit, and two of her enormous mugs sat steaming on a tray.  Isabella shot her a confused look.

“I wanted you to eat something and get some rest.  One is decaffeinated tea, prepared just the way you like it.”  She was about to explain the other mug, but was interrupted.

“Nine sugars?”  Isabella was doubtful.  Her friend had always cringed watching her make her teas.

Jessie gave a full body shiver.  “Yes, Isabella, nine sugars.  Nine big, heaping sugars.”  Isabella laid there contented with the answer.  “And the other mug has chicken bullion in it.  I didn’t think you would stomach anything too harsh, but I still floated some oyster crackers in it.”

She sighed contentedly.  “I love you, Jessie.  You know me so well.  Can you stay while I eat?”  She watched for a reaction.  “I’ll even talk now.  I promise.”  She raised her fingers in a mock pledge.

“Actually, I called Jeff.  And if you want, I’m yours for the night.”  Jessie really had thought of everything.

She was quiet for a moment before speaking.  The offer was tempting, but after ruminating on it for a matter of seconds she shook her head with certainty.  “I can’t let you do that.  You’ve been too good to me already.  How about if you just stay until my kids are asleep?”  Isabella needed to start getting used to the fact that she was alone now, and might always be.  She couldn’t rely on Jessie forever.

She leaned down to pick up the first mug.  It was lying on Jack’s note.  She must have brought it through the house with her without realizing it.  She reread it then crumpled the note, disgusted that Jack would even presume to know what love was.  Isabella herself no longer knew what love was, but at least she knew when she lacked it.  And at least she had had the guts to do something about it.

When Isabella awoke the next day, one thought occurred to her.  It was spring, the time for new beginnings.  How appropriate.  She would start today.  She called in sick to work.  She hadn’t been working with Christopher long, but once he heard the sound of her voice, he didn’t question her request for time off.  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she promised, “better than new.”  She woke the kids, sent Rebecca off to kindergarten, promising to meet her bus later, and dropped Kyle off at daycare. 

The drive downtown was short, the morning traffic virtually non-existent.  She parked on Margaret Street and walked to her favorite coffee shop, the Koffee Kat, which was everything a coffee shop should be.  There were plenty of interesting people, periodicals, and art.  The staff was comprised of New Age hippies, all college students and would-be artists.  The atmosphere was ideal for reading, relaxing, thinking, or even carrying on a philosophical conversation.

Isabella ordered her favorite: chocolate cappuccino, garnished with whipped cream, powdered chocolate, and a zip bean.  Then, with a quick smile and thank you, left the store and went to her favorite place.  She parked next to the farthest street lamp on Cumberland Avenue.  From where she stood, she could just make out the rooflines of the gazebo.  She walked slowly, serenely over the carved paving stones, pausing occasionally to read them.  Some, her favorites, she knew by heart.  She read all the birth announcements, memorials,
and anniversaries.  She saw advertisements for businesses.  All these lovely carved stones were laid out surrounding the Samuel de Champlain Monument, and more still were leading down three tiers to the mouth of the river, where it met with Lake Champlain.  River Walk was a place of serenity and tranquility.  No wonder Isabella’s body worked on autopilot to take her there on this particular morning.

She had some serious decision making to do.  Isabella had already determined what was missing from her life.  She wanted to be happy.  She wanted her soul to sing light and free of regrets.  She wanted her contagious moods to convey only the best of feelings to her children.  They were so aware of her.  She had sold herself short for so long, and had thereby sold them short as well.  No more.  Everything must change, no matter what the cost.

I will never depend on a man again
, Isabella swore to herself. 
If ever a man is in my life again, it will be because I want him there, and not because I need him.
  She would never expect a man to rescue her again.  She was a woman of independent means.  In reality, she had been paying all the bills for a long time, more so now that she was working.  She could certainly afford to care for three more easily than four on her salary.  She would be fine.  She would be grounded in reality, put aside her dream of a fairy tale ending, and she would be happy.

The forty-five minute drive from Montreal to Plattsburgh was…dull. Gabriel Charmant hated to be bored and he hated ugliness, not just ugly behavior or attitudes; that he could often understand as he had seen so much of it growing up.  No, Gabriel liked to be surrounded by beauty, beautiful scenery, beautiful possessions, and beautiful people.  Although sometimes
, beautiful people could be dull.  Well, that was a price he had to pay every now and then.  Right now, the only redeeming quality of this obscenely dull drive was that he was getting to do it in his father’s new vehicle.  Yes, a Hummer could change anything.

He turned his attention to the tasks at hand.  Gabriel had classes to take.  That wasn’t entirely true.  His father would prefer that he not take the classes and just come to work full-time.  He had offered Gabriel a starting salary of a quarter of a million dollars.  Despite the fact that it was Canadian currency, it was still a good amount.  No, Gabriel, in his one act of defiance his entire life, had decided to get his MBA to earn the respect of those around him.  He knew he could do the job, had been doing the job for quite some time, but he wanted the validation of a degree behind him so others would think twice before questioning his authority because of a little nepotism.

In order to get his degree in his time frame, he would have to take summer classes, classes not being offered by McGill.  The classes were, however, being offered in Plattsburgh.  And since there was business that he could handle in Plattsburgh over the summer, his father had agreed to let him live and work there during the week, providing he come home each weekend.  This was the cost for his father covering his tuition and employing him.  Well, it was a start at least.  He glanced over at the catalog on the passenger seat.  He had gone online and requested information from all the colleges within an hour radius of Montreal.  He had never really considered Plattsburgh SUNY, but once he looked through the glossy pages he immediately reconsidered.