Second Chance Rescue, page 18
“Who’s Cheryl?”
“The lady that found her father after the heart attack.”
“Shit, that’s rough.”
“Tell me about it. I haven’t talked to her since we got home that night. She told me she wanted to go home and it’s been dead air. I text her and no response. I’ve called and no answer. I’ve sent her favorite flowers and still nothing.”
He stares at me. His mouth opens and closes in quick succession. Like he isn’t exactly sure what to say.
Finally, he speaks. “I think she has every reason to want some time. Think about it this way. She just lost her dad after spending how many months taking care of him? Her emotions are probably all over the page. What can you do right now to help her? What is something that will ease her mind a bit? You need to give her space to grieve, but be there for her at the same time.”
“I hadn’t even thought of it like that. It makes complete sense. God, I just want to be there for her. To hold her and tell her that I’m not letting her go. I’m just so afraid of fucking things up. I mean look at where I’m at. I’m a fucking mess. I had love before, and it slipped through my fingers. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Jules wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone, Trevor.”
“I know. I have to believe that she would have wanted us to be happy.” I shake my head.
“Do you love her, Trevor?”
“I really fucking do. So, what do I do now? How do I get her to come back to me?”
“Simple. Fight for her. Don’t let her push you away, right now. Show her you love her. That you want this decision to be between her and you now, not some silly contract. You can’t bring back her father, but you can be there for her. You remember what it was like when you lost Jules. She just lost her dad, I imagine she’s having a hard time with it.”
“Huh, that makes a lot of sense.”
“I think you have your answer.”
I hang out with Chase until around eight, when Shelby gets home.
Back at home, I do laundry, tackle some paperwork I’ve been putting off at the rescue, check my emails, and stretch out on the bed with a book. Sadie hasn’t followed me into my room and jumped on the bed yet, so I go looking. I find her laying by the front door, head between her front paws.
I pat my thigh. “Come on, Sadie. Let’s go to bed.” She doesn’t move. I walk over and crouch down beside her, rubbing her black fur. She looks up at me with puppy dog eyes and then back at the front door.
“I know, girl, I miss her too. Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”
Finally, after practically begging and with cheese, I get her to leave her post and follow me back to my room.
I’m going to read my first romance novel. If I want to get my girl back, then I need some insider’s advice.
Macy
It is a dreary sixty degrees, the sky a clear, sunny, luminous blue above, and a cold breeze blows around us. Mia stands to my left, tears streaming slowly down her face. I feel the emptiness, this unsorted feeling.
The service is bigger than expected and beautiful—moving speeches, singing, essential tears, and scrawled messages in the guest book from family and friends. Flowers line the pulpit, lilies and roses. His dark casket sits in the middle. A photo of him and Mom from their wedding is placed in the center of the casket spray.
Halfway through giving his eulogy, I fall. All feeling in my legs goes out below me. Strong arms help me up, comforting me and pulling me close. My body is broken, lost. I look up to see the person behind the strong arms to find Trevor. My heart flutters. The last time I saw him, we hadn’t been on good terms. The fact that he showed up now gave me comfort. We may not be in a good place, but it meant something to me that he came anyhow. A tear creeps down my cheek.
“Hey, it’s okay. I got you.” Warm arms wrap around me as he helps me back to where Mia and I are seated.
My father is gone. He left me alone. So alone. I don’t know how I’m going to survive without him. It’s too soon. Another sob wracks my body and Trevor’s hand finds my knee. My strong hold in this storm of emotions crashing through me.
So many people show up for the funeral, I’m overwhelmed. Not only friends of my father’s and mine. Friends of my mother pour in in masses as well. I didn’t realize so many people loved my parents.
A quartet sings my father’s favorite hymns and I hum along. Tears like fingertips caress my cheeks. He was never a church-goer, but he was a good God-fearing man. We went every holiday and sat in the same pew, three from the back.
The service ends and we step up one last time to say our goodbyes before moving to the gravesite. Mia and Trevor give me a minute alone with the casket that now holds what’s left of my father’s body. I say to him everything I meant to say. I tell him one last time that I love him. That I’ll miss him. To tell Momma hello for me. How am I supposed to leave him here? How can I just walk away and leave him alone?
The drive to the gravesite is quiet. I don’t know what to say. Too many emotions swirl within and I’m finding it hard to keep them in. My body shudders as it’s racked with feeling. Each emotion—sadness, pain, fear, the unknown—falls down my face in the form of tears. I may not say anything but if tears could talk, you would know it all. We gather at the gravesite to say one final goodbye to the man who raised me. My body is consumed with sadness and the fear of what happens next.
A pit in my stomach opens and tears waterfall down my face. I am alone. I watch as Dad’s casket is lowered into the ground. He’s gone and I will never, ever see my father again. Grief and guilt flood me. Grief that he’s gone, guilt that I felt so mad about his constant mood swings. I can’t change it now. There is no going back. Through all of it, Trevor is there for me. He’s not saying much, but his presence reassures me that he’s not giving up. He said we would deal with this together and he’s fighting for me. For us.
As the final group of people trail out of Dad’s house offering final condolences and assistance in any way they can, weight seems to lift from my chest. Trevor is still there when I close the door.
“We need to talk, Mace.” The previous weight is back in tenfold on my chest.
Here it comes.
“Trev.” His name on my lips, a whispered prayer. He glances down at me. Eyes dark with … what, I’m not sure, but it makes my skin crawl. I don’t know what he’s going to say. It gives me comfort knowing that he had been there today for me. Even if he didn’t make his presence known until the moment I needed it most. Mia knows that we need to talk, so she excuses herself from the room.
His tongue slips out to moisten his lips. “I’m all in, Mace. I need you in my life. I can’t keep pushing you away.” His breath is short, as if he’s finding it hard to even say it.
My brows knit in confusion. “But I don’t understand.”
Trevor looks down, fiddling with his fingers, then turns and goes to look out the front window, as if he’s searching the universe for an answer.
“What I feel for you is real. I know your head is full of emotions and it may not process this, but know that I love you. I don’t need an agreement keeping us together anymore. I’m going to prove it to you that we belong together. This thing,” he says, pointing between us, “may have started out on paper, but my heart wants you. I want you. I promised you friendship initially, but now I’m asking you for more. I want a lifetime with you. I want us to be happy together.”
His eyes find mine. “I’ll make you happy, Mace. I just need you to let me. I know it’s poor timing. I know you’re grieving and if you need time, I’ll give it to you, but know that I’m not going anywhere. Even if you try to push me away. I’m asking for a second chance.”
He walks toward me and kisses me on the temple. His lips remain a second more than just a peck, and I revel in it. The feel of them against my skin. “Please think about it, Macy. I miss you. Sadie girl misses you. We just want you to come home.” I remain silent, unsure how to respond.
I spend a couple days moping around, my direction aimless. Trevor texts me every morning to check on me. It’s finally setting in. My parents are both gone and I’m finding it hard to believe that Thanksgiving is a week and a half from today. The first holiday I’ll spend without them. I look around this house and can’t decide what to do with my father’s things or his house. If I sell it, I can pay for my tuition, but that’s the least of my worries right now. Plus, who knows how long it’ll take to settle the estate. I don’t know what to do or what comes next. I find myself only getting up from the comfort of the couch to scrounge for food.
My mind goes back to Trevor. The way he had caught me and comforted me at the funeral. He’d shown up even when he didn’t have to. He’d been there for me like he said he would. The fact that he’s continually checking up on me. Every morning when I wake up there are more flowers lining my living room walls. Mia says he comes daily, but I don’t want to see him yet. I don’t know what I’d even say. He’s proving to me that he means he’s all in with us. I don’t know what to think. I want to believe him when he said he wanted this, us. My brain is such a jumbled mess. So I focus on what I can.
My pain.
My suffering.
I wallow in it.
My heart is now completely shattered. Bits lying all over the floor where they had fallen just days before. Torn apart in a way I thought I’d never feel again. Heartbroken. I just want to curl up in a ball and never come out. Feeling sorry for myself. My motivation to do anything is shot to shit. I’m lost. I feel like I’m spinning and can’t come to a stop, like eventually I’ll just spin myself to death.
Mia doesn’t let that continue one second longer than she thinks necessary. She comes in guns blazing, rainbow hair flying about. “Get off your ass and do something. You aren’t helping anyone by sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Your father would be ashamed to see the state you’re in. And what is that smell?” She leans over and gives me a big sniff.
“Honey, I love you, but you smell like a combination of dirty jockstrap and unwashed man junk.” She points to the bathroom and starts pushing me toward it. “Why don’t you take a shower?”
“So what, I’m allowed to wallow, Mia. My father just died. Also, the fact that you know those exact scents is rather terrifying.”
“I know sweetie, which is why you need to get up and do something. It’ll take your mind off things. Now, do you need help showering or can you manage on your own? I think it’ll make you feel a little better.”
“Fine,” I huff. I’m seriously regretting my decision to give her a spare house key. I turn on the shower and start removing my clothes. I lift my shirt over my head and almost pass out. She’s right, I smell terrible. But who cares? My father is gone and Trevor isn’t here. I think he figured it out that I don’t want to talk after I never responded to his texts.
Right now, there is no one to impress.
Sadness pours through my veins. I miss him. The way he would make me laugh and the way he smiled a special smile just for me. I miss Sadie too.
“Thank you,” she replies, shutting the door to the bathroom.
“I’m in mourning. It’s not nice to be mean to your best friend when she’s in mourning!” I yell, not knowing whether she can hear me.
The hot water washes the grime from my body. In truth, the water is washing away the old and giving me a new beginning. It’s a nice thought at least. I cry my eyes out for my dead father, my unsure relationship, the life Trevor and I could have together. I wash away the days’ worth of regrets and neglect. I turn off the shower when I hear my phone ringing in the living room. I rush out and grab the phone, but the number is unfamiliar.
“Hello?”
“Macy, this is Lucille. How are you doing, sweetie?”
“I’m hanging in there. It feels weird without him here, you know?”
“It’ll get better. It may not seem like it right now, but I promise it does. If you need anything, anything at all, we’re here for you.”
“I really appreciate the offer.”
“I’m serious, Macy. If you need anything, just give us a call.”
“Trevor…” I whisper to myself.
“Macy?”
“Yes, sorry. I’m here. How is Trevor? Is he doing okay?”
“I think he’s worried about you, dear. The fact that he’s reaching out to us again is because of you. We can’t thank you enough for bringing our son back to us.”
Why would he reach out to his parents? I just can’t wrap my head around it. Unless… no. Could he truly be mending fences because of me, because of us?
“Okay, well I just wanted to call and check in. We’re here, Macy, and we love you.”
Lucille keeps talking, her voice a fly buzzing in my ear. I hear nothing else she says. I stand in the living room, blank with shock, staring at my phone. I disconnect the call, not thinking, even though Lucille’s voice is still coming through the receiver. I’m so in shock that I start laughing hysterically. Mia comes running into the room looking at me like she believes I’m destined for white padded walls and a straitjacket. Lately, I feel the same way.
“Who was that?” Mia says curiously, eyeing me.
“That was Trevor’s mom.” I announce.
“No, seriously?”
“I’m dead serious. He reached out to his parents and let them know what happened to dad. He reached out to his parents…” The lightbulb goes off as she realizes what I’m saying. Her brain is glowing, illuminating white light, which actually opens up my own eyes to something I’ve been missing all along.
I’m an idiot.
A fool.
A stubborn, blind bitch. The worst part is that I’ve been fooling myself this whole time.
“Oh my God, Mia.” Reality streams through my voice. “Trevor asked my father’s permission to marry me when he didn’t have to. He bought me the exact ring I wanted. And he told me his deepest, darkest secrets—things he hadn’t told anyone before.”
“Get to the point, Macy,” Mia asks, unimpressed. I inhale slowly. My nerves were dancing and twinkling under my skin, like a fuse has finally been sparked where it hadn’t been previously. A here’s-your-sign goes off inside my skull.
I whisper, in almost disbelief, “I think Trevor Donovan is in love with me.”
Mia makes a face like I’m either talking gibberish or the world’s biggest moron.
“Of course he does, Macy! A blind, deaf man could’ve told you that! You mean, you’re just now figuring this out? The man shows up every damn day with a bouquet of flowers. I know he texts you. He probably calls too. Quite frankly I’m tired of seeing his face around here and I’ve run out of vases.” I stare at her. She throws her hands in the air. “How can you be so oblivious?”
“You don’t have to be a bitch, Mia,” I say, offended.
“The truth hurts, hon, but it also sets you free.”
“I thought love was weak knees, stolen kisses, butterflies in your stomach, and weekend getaways with roses on your bed, and Jacuzzi hot tubs.”
Mia scoffs at me. “You read entirely too many romance novels, Macy. Love is kind and patient. Constant. Never ebbing or flowing too much. It’s comfortable sweatpants and messy hair. It’s knowing that you’ve found another imperfect person who’s perfect for you. It’s like the perfect bubble bath. Never scalding or freezing with the right amount of bubbles.” I nod, pondering her words.
“But it’s also fierce. You have to love hard. You have to give them the good with the bad. You have to lean on one another. Love makes you a better person. It makes you crave being a better person. You know it’s love when you’re comfortable just being you. Feeling seen and understood. Knowing that the other person holds your deepest, darkest secrets, and accepts them fully without judging you. It’s acceptance.”
Mia squeezes me tightly. “I’ve never been in love before Macy, so I can only tell you what I’ve seen of your parents. Love isn’t butterflies and weak knees. It’s tough and it takes work. Romances fizzle at the first sign of trouble, but love fights to the fucking death. Love takes a bullet for someone. Love goes to war at the slightest offense from another, knowing the reason is completely justified. Love lasts forever, beyond the grave. Look at your mom and dad. He was so in love that his heart didn’t want to wait any longer to see her again.”
A car backfires somewhere down the street. A jet takes off in the distance. I calm my breathing. My soul cries out to me… yes… say yes.
“I love him, Mia. I love Trevor fucking Donovan!” My eyes are wide, heart pounding triumphantly.
All of a sudden, a hand smacks the back of my head. “Ow, bitch, what the hell was that for?” I say, rubbing the back of my skull.
“That is for burdening me with such stupidity!”
“Oh God, Mia. I need to call him. I have to tell him that I’m in. That I want this as much as he does.” His words from the funeral come back and light a fire under my ass. I keep babbling as I punch his number into my phone. I wait with bated breath to hear his voice, to hear the line connect, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. Crap. Shit. Fuck. Hell. Dammit!
I’m going to ask for a second chance. I need to do it in person. I need to look him in the eye and be vulnerable. I need him to know exactly how I feel. Even if he doesn’t want me anymore. Even if I don’t get the response I want, I still have to do it. At least I will know, one way or the other. I won’t have any what-ifs to worry about. What if I never told him? What if I said nothing and he moved on without me? So many what-ifs. It’s now or never. I make a mad dash to grab a duffel bag and fill it with overnight clothes. I practically beg Mia to drive me so I don’t have to hail a cab. I have a man to tell that I’m in love with him.
Trevor
Friday night, I sit on my couch; no whiskey this time. It’s different and I owe that to Macy. Even though she hasn’t responded to my texts in days I still feel changed. I don’t have the desire to burn my pain and sadness in drink anymore. God, I even called my mother asking for advice on how to help Macy. This woman, no matter what, has changed me for the better. There is not a chance in hell I’m letting her go.
