His Second Chance Page 2

  It hit me like a bolt of lightning why the woman had seemed familiar earlier. She looked like Leslie, well, at least she did at first. Once I got a good look at her, it was completely obvious that it wasn’t her. Leslie was beautiful and striking. Maybe that’s why I had never been able to get her off of my mind after all this time. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t tried. I’d tried plenty. If anything, just to forget how stupid I had been when she left.

  I had always thought she was pretty. When I was 21 and she was 16, our families were neighbors. She had caught my eye but she was just too young. But when I saw her crying that day when she came home from school, I’d had enough. I knew that bully, Richard, had gotten to her again. I had hurried over, intent on finding out what he’d done that time. Once she’d explained to me what he’d done, I knew I couldn’t stand idly by and let it continue. I remembered promising her he would never bother her again, and I saw the doubt in her eyes. Not that I could fully blame her.

  Looking back, we both had tough things going on in our homes back then. I had no clue of her family’s financial situation that only a few short days later would lead to them moving away. I was wrapped up in our own family drama. My father was an unfaithful piece of work and had shattered my mother. But I was able to deal with Richard for Leslie. It might have been only part of her problems, but at least I could give her that.

  I went to her school the next day after doing my research to find out what the guy looked like and what he drove. With a few solid shots to his pretty face and a threat to destroy the rest of him if he ever hurt her again, it was over. The guy wasn’t tough by any means and ended up a blubbering mess. I made him apologize in front of everyone to Leslie. I hadn’t been able to stick around considering I was older and on school property, but I remembered the look on her face well. She seemed amazed that I had done such a thing for her. Like I could have stopped myself. Not when I’d seen her cry.

  Sitting there on the bus bench, I could still feel the anger that had coursed through my body those 9 long years ago. I could also remember something else, that kiss.

  After he had apologized to her and the whole school had seen Richard’s humiliation, Leslie had come over to my house to thank me. I’d been sitting outside on our front porch, not ready to go inside and listen to the chaos that was happening in there. If I remember correctly, my dad had been trying to explain away a photo of him and some woman at a restaurant having dinner. He had tried to tell my mom that it was a business dinner, but he hadn’t known that the paparazzi had gotten a picture of them kissing later that night. It was back when my mom still tried to get Dad to see what he was doing. Before she realized just what a piece of shit he was.

  Instead, I sat on our front steps, breathing in the cool night air. It was almost cool enough to need a jacket but I wouldn’t budge. That was when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. I had known it was her before I’d seen her. I could tell the sound of her walk from anyone else that came by. She’d come up and sat beside me without saying a word. I was afraid to speak, unsure if she would be happy with me or mad. I didn’t do it for the glory. I did it so she’d be happy, that was it. The guy needed to learn not to pick on women. I had known I was taking a risk going there. There was always the possibility that she would be totally mad at me. But in the end, I had told her that I was going to do it, so I had to. Back then I was still a man of my word. I hadn’t let the drugs or alcohol turn me into someone I wasn’t.

  She sat down beside me on that cold stone and looked up at the sky. I remembered that the moon was fairly full, because it lit up the night sky, outlining the few clouds that were drifting across the sky. “Thank you,” she’d finally said. I had turned to look at her, and she seemed to be glowing from within. Turning to look at me, her smile had even spread to her eyes. She looked so sweet and perfect in the moonlight, I didn’t think I could breathe. I know that I didn’t want to. I was afraid that if I even moved an inch I would break the spell and she would disappear. Then, she’d touched the side of my face and began to lean forward as the air around us seemed to crackle with chemistry. I was doing my best to ignore it, but I also couldn’t turn away from her. Not as she licked her lips and I felt myself leaning towards her. My mind was screaming at me to not do it. She was too young. But as our lips touched and then parted, those voices were gone. The only sounds were the trees rustling in the breeze.

  Eventually, I was able to pull away, despite my reluctance to do so. If I could have, I would have taken her in my arms and carried her to my bed. But I knew she was simply too young at the time. I had wanted to give it time to make sure she wasn’t just grateful. But a few short days later the moving truck had pulled up and then she was gone.

  If only that day hadn’t been filled with turmoil in my house, maybe I would have had the sense to go over and tell her I wanted to stay in touch. But instead, I foolishly kept to myself. I didn’t want her to accidentally see my world falling apart. When I found out that she’d come by I’d thought that maybe I could talk to her the next day. Things had been really tense at home that day and I didn’t want her to see me upset, but by then they were gone. I had no idea where they’d moved to. I’d been so mad at myself. If only I would have gone to the door. If only I would have walked over when I saw the moving truck. But honestly, I had expected it to take longer for them to leave. I didn’t know at the time that they were having to leave almost everything behind.

  As the bus pulled up, I was still overcome with my longing to see Leslie again. Nine years and I could still get the pang in my heart and the empty feeling in my gut like it was yesterday. Was it possible that after this long I was still grieving the loss of her? Sometimes it felt as if the weight on my chest would suffocate me. I knew a few times in my drunkenness I had gotten down on my knees and prayed that God would bring her back to me. He never did though.

  Losing her had pushed me into a pit of despair that only I knew about. I never told anyone that she was the catalyst that led to me drinking and experimenting with drugs. I had been looking for an escape from the pain that would never leave me. Losing her had left me so lonely that I couldn’t bear it.

  The door to the bus opened and I climbed on board, remembering that kiss and how I would love to know what had happened to her after she’d gone. I crossed my fingers that someday I might see her again. I just wanted to know she was happy and safe out there. I sighed and took a seat with the sinking feeling that my wish would never be granted.

  As the bus pulled away from the stop, I took a moment to wonder where she was. Did her parents take her out of state? Did they have relatives somewhere else that they had moved closer to? I’d done a search not long after they left on the internet. Yet when I would type in her dad’s name the only thing that came up was about him filing for bankruptcy. After that I had resigned myself to having lost her. I almost wondered if I should look again. By now she was old enough that maybe I could find some trace of her. Of course, I was going to London now. If she had wanted to see me, she knew where I lived. She could have always come and found me. Instead she disappeared from my world and never looked back.

  Leaning back in the seat, I slumped down and closed my eyes. Maybe some things just weren’t meant to be.

  Chapter 2

  Leslie

  I was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, sipping my black coffee when my little sister Aimee came strolling in. Instantly I felt myself draw inward, prepared for her cruelty. There was no way she would be in the same room as me and not have some sort of mean thing to say to me. She was thin and pretty, with a tiny nose and short auburn hair. I always thought she looked more like our mother than I did, with her high cheekbones and long legs. Still in her pajamas, an oversized shirt and a pair of pajama pants with cartoon characters on them, she looked like she wasn’t happy to be awake. She took one look at my uniform and shook her head. I knew it was coming then. There was no way she would pass up making a snide comment about my job. She had made her disdain for my job a
s an air hostess well known to me and never missed a chance to point it out. Of course, she was only 18 and thought she knew everything at this point in her life. I had been doing my best to ignore her. She was honestly just a spoiled brat who thought she knew better than me. Life would hit her hard some day and she’d come around. Until then, I just had to try to avoid her and her harsh words.

  “I still don’t see how you can work such a lame job,” she began as she jerked opened the fridge. Her voice was still full of sleep and she yawned. “There couldn’t be a more pointless job,” she paused. “Except for maybe models. But that’s all you really are to the airline anyway. A pair of legs and boobs to keep the passengers entertained.” She sighed and leaned farther in as she tried to decide what she wanted for breakfast. Eventually she came back out with the milk.

  “Look,” I began as my mother entered the kitchen. “I know my job is boring. It’s not like I’m not aware.” I turned to look out the French doors that led to the back yard. I didn’t want to argue with my sister over this again. Couldn’t she just take one day where she didn’t say something about my job? I’d wanted to have a peaceful morning for once. I knew I had a long flight ahead of me today and this was not how I wanted the day to start. It wasn’t like I was exactly happy with my job anyway.

  “So why don’t you find something better? Something that requires a brain, for example,” Aimee remarked as she began to make a bowl of cereal. She had been hating on my job pretty much from the beginning. I wasn’t sure if she hated the job itself or it was just the fact that we didn’t get along and it was simply an excuse for her cruelty. Either way, I was getting pretty tired of hearing her complain about it constantly. I would rather she find something else to pick on me for at this point. Her jabs at my job were starting to get old.

  “You do realize there aren’t a whole lot of great jobs out there for the taking, right?” I snapped. I wasn’t going to take her attitude lying down today. “That sometimes you have to do a job you don’t like in order to pay the bills? You know, adult stuff. Things you don’t know anything about,” I said cattily. I knew I shouldn’t take her bait, but I was tired of her remarks. Maybe if I tried putting her in her place, she would shut her mouth, if even only for a little while. Our mother was silently listening to the exchange as she poured herself a cup of coffee and began adding her creamer. She was used to us bickering by now. She normally just did her best to stay out of it.

  “Yeah, I do. But maybe if you hadn’t dropped out of college like a loser...,” she started.

  “Hey, now that’s enough,” my mother interjected. “I don’t want to hear any more talk about Leslie leaving college. You hear me?” she said giving Aimee a pointed look. “It’s time for you to drop it. I’m getting tired of hearing you harp on your sister for every little thing and I’m sure she’s sick of it too.”

  “Whatever,” Aimee said as she tossed her short brown hair over her shoulder and hurried from the kitchen. She shoveled a spoonful of cereal in her mouth before using her butt to push open the swinging door. She knew she had to keep her mouth shut with our mother or she’d end up grounded.

  I turned back to my mother and gave her a faint smile. “You didn’t have to stick up for me,” I said. “She wasn’t wrong, you know. If I would have stayed in college, maybe I could have gotten a better job.”

  “People don’t deserve to have their mistakes brought up over and over again as ammunition against them,” she explained. “You did the best you could with what you had at the time and that’s that. I won’t have her dragging it up over and over again. And what’s this, you don’t like your job?” her green eyes were filled with concern. “I thought you liked your job?”

  “I mean, it’s not the worst thing in the world,” I began. “But it’s definitely not where my heart is at. I would much rather do something that isn’t so boring. Plus, it kind of sucks being in a different time zone all the time. I’m never fully sure what day it is or what time. And forget about normal sleep anymore. But, you know, it’s a paycheck. It sure beats having to do some other job for less pay.” At least, that was what I would tell myself when I didn’t know if I should be sleeping or not.

  “So then, why are you doing it? Why not find something that you truly like doing?” my mother pressed. “Wouldn’t that be better than suffering through a job that you really don’t like and makes you miserable?” She leaned against the counter as she focused on our conversation. This was why I loved my mom so much. She was patient, understanding but also wouldn’t take any crap.

  “So I can help out,” I said, thinking it had been obvious. “I know things are still so tight financially. Granted, we are doing much better than we had been all those years ago but it’s still a struggle. I’m just trying to do whatever I can to be able to send money. I just feel like I can make decent money this way to help.”

  “Oh, Leslie,” my mother said softly. My words seemed to pain her. “You know you don’t have to do that.” She looked down at her feet and shook her head. As she heaved a sigh, it seemed to come from the depths of her soul.

  “But I do,” I insisted. “You guys are having enough trouble as it is. I would hate to think how things would be if I didn’t try to help. You and I, we’ve always been kind of a team.”

  “Leslie, your father and I can manage,” she said evenly. “Our bills are not your responsibility. You’re an adult now. It’s time for you to start doing your own thing and to start living your own life.” She suddenly looked years older. I noticed all the little lines that had started forming on her face that hadn’t been there when I was younger. It seemed like the things we had been through, namely losing everything and struggling to hold on to what we did have, had taken their toll. It had been hard on all of us when my dad had lost his business.

  We used to live in Beverly Hills, after all. Neighbors with billionaires and hanging out with the richest of the rich. But now that was all gone. He’d seen it coming but had been in denial. Eventually, there wasn’t much else to do but file for bankruptcy.

  “I know, but still,” I said carefully. “I still worry about you guys. I’m not going to just abandon you. I couldn’t possibly just walk away from it all.”

  “You aren’t,” she reassured me. She reached across the bar and laid her hand on mine. “But you are old enough that you shouldn’t be worried about taking care of us. You need to be worried about yourself and what you want to do with your life.” Tears began to form in her eyes and one slipped down her cheek. “You are such an amazing daughter and I feel so incredibly lucky to have you. But it’s time to spread your wings, baby girl. It’s time to do what makes you happy. Don’t hold yourself back for us. Life flies by in the blink of an eye. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on living just because we made some bad financial decisions.”

  She pushed off from the counter and patted my hand before she quietly carried her coffee from the kitchen, leaving me alone. She’d given me quite a bit to think about now, and I wondered what I should do with it. She was right, after all. I had already learned firsthand just how quickly a moment could pass you by. Sometimes you only have a split second to reach out and take a chance before the opportunity is gone forever. I didn’t want to make that mistake again.

  Glancing at the clock I realized I didn’t have time to sit there and ponder my life or job at the moment. I had an international flight to work and I needed to hurry if I was going to get there on time. My plans for the future would just have to wait.

  I rushed out of the house, collecting my things as I went. I knew I wouldn’t be home for a little while, so I needed to make sure I had everything I needed. A quick double check of my bag and soon I heard the honk of my taxi out front. I hurried out the door and resolved to worry about my problems some other time. Right now, I had a flight to London that I had to work on.

  When I finally made it to the plane, most of the passengers were already on board. Thankfully I hadn’t needed to be there to help get them boarded. I was n
ever a fan of that part. Yet I knew I would be working first class for this flight, so I paused a moment in front of the mirror to make sure I was still presentable. First class passengers expected first class hostesses, and that meant they didn’t want to see a hair out of place or a bit of lipstick on your teeth. Of course, not all of them were that way. Most were extremely polite and courteous. But there were always those few that would nitpick at you. It sometimes amazed me at just what kind of complaints people were willing to make about an air hostess. Once we had someone complain that our uniforms were too short. A few days later, another complained they were too long. It just goes to show, you can’t please everyone.

  Using my hand, I smoothed back my hair that was pulled back in a bun and wiped away the mascara that had made its way to my cheek. After checking my teeth, I looked down at my uniform to make sure everything was straight. Smoothing out my skirt, I made sure my white button up shirt was tucked in nicely before buttoning up my fitted blazer. I was just glad we had fairly decent uniforms. It didn’t feel overly sexy, but it was still flattering. At least they weren’t an embarrassment to wear. With a sigh, I plastered on my smile and pushed through to first class.

  I began my rounds of simply making sure everyone was settled and asking if they needed anything. The more we could get taken care of before the flight, the better. There were always people who knew they would want a pillow or something of that nature. I assisted a shorter, older woman with fluffy white hair with her carry-on bag, lifting it into the overhead compartment for her and promising to help her again at the end of the flight. Next, I moved to the couple who were grinning and holding hands. They explained to me this was their honeymoon flight and that they were celebrating. I congratulated them and promised to take extra special care of them. I continued to work my way through the rows, smiling and asking if I could get them anything before the flight, when one passenger caused me to stop in my tracks.