Second Chance Hero (5 page)

“Oh, Deacon,” She cries, “Like that. Don’t stop.”

Lizzie is passed out next to me on the bed, and I'm
laying on my back still fully clothed. I doubt she’ll be leaving tonight after
the handful of orgasms I gave her to knock her out, so I pull my shirt and
jeans off and make my way to my room. I’ve never shared the information with
the women who have come back here, that they’ve never been in the bed I sleep
in. I couldn't stand sleeping in a bed that had their smell all over the
sheets.

The minute I lay my head on the pillow, there’s a
knock on the door. What the hell? It’s gone midnight. I climb out of bed and
answer the door in my boxers.

“Jenna?”

“Oh my God!” She turns away the minute she sees me,
after a lingering look at my underwear.

“Jesus, Jenna. You could have called.”

“I don’t have your number and I was nearby. You told
me to pop in.”

“Not this late.”

“Sorry.” She turns to leave.

“Don't go. Come in.”

She hesitates with her back to me and I know she’s thinking
it through. She turns around to face me and follows me in the front door.

“I have problems sleeping, anyway.” I say trying to
make her feel better, although I’m wondering why she’s out so late, “Tea?”

“Have you got full fat milk?”

“I had you down as more of a skinny latte kind of
girl.” I open the fridge, “I’ve got semi. That okay?”

I squeeze my eyes shut at my double entendre, hoping
she doesn’t notice, but when I look back for her response she's blushing and
starting at me...indecently.

“Semi is fine,” She whispers, “I just prefer the
full thing.”

Oh Jesus
.
I take the milk out of the fridge and put it next to the kettle when I switch
it on.

“You’ve got a nice place. I didn’t think you’d live
so far from town and so close to the site.”

“It works for me. I don’t go to town much and I
don’t leave the office much.”

“You designed the place didn’t you?”

I pause midair with the teabags, stunned.

“What makes you think I designed it?”

Jenna shrugs her shoulders and looks away.

“Jenna?”

“Just a guess.”

I don’t believe her, but I drop it. I hand her the
tea and she thanks me. I feel restless suddenly when I remember Lizzie is
upstairs asleep naked in what she assumes is my bed.

“So, what did you want?”

Jenna looks up at me from her seat at the table and
I can see I’ve offended her. I wish more than anything that she could come here
just because she wanted to, to sleep in my bed like we used to when we were
young, and when we were at uni. She’s the only girl who’s slept in the same bed
as me; I loved the way my pillow smelled of her for hours after she left.

“I was out. Mum called to tell me about tomorrow’s
dinner so I thought I’d offer to bake a cake. I should have just asked Emma to
call and ask.”

“Why do you have to talk to me through my mum? We
can't have an adult conversation and I can't ask you a question without you
flying off the handle?”

“I didn’t fly off anything, so get off your high
horse. I came here to offer to make dessert for tomorrow. Do you want me it or
not?”

It takes me a while to respond, as the answer to the
subliminal question play in my mind.

“Yeah.” I answer, and then compose myself, “Yes
please. I can't bake to save my life.”

“I know.” She squints and gasps as she looks behind
me. “You're busy. I’m gonna go.”

I look behind me and see Lizzie’s handbag on the
counter with her car keys and the empty bottle of wine with two glasses next to
it.

“I’m not busy, I was in bed.”

“I’m not sure your girlfriend would appreciate you
saying that. Which one was it tonight?”

“What?”

“Well I’ve seen you with two, and I’m assuming
there’s more. Fuck buddies don’t tend to stay the night.”

“What would you know about fuck buddies?”

“Enough.” She stands up and swings her keys around
her finger, “Thanks for the tea.”

The tea that she isn’t staying long enough to let
cool down enough to drink.

“You don’t have to go. I’m a twenty six year old
man, and single. What’s the problem?”

I can see what the problem is. Her eyes are glassed
over, her cheeks are red, her lips parted and dry, and she is looking at me
like she’s never seen a man before. She licks her lips and swallows hard. She
wants me as much as I want her.

“Jen.” She shakes her head and takes off towards the
front door. I’ve just blown my first shot, “Please stay.”

“Vanilla or chocolate?” She asks not looking at me
as I follow her back to her car, the gravel on the drive digging in my bare
feet.

“Vanilla.”

“Vanilla it is.” She opens her car door and climbs
in, “See you tomorrow at seven.”

“Kip isn’t welcome.” I say standing at her door.

She stares at me with fire in her eyes and I think
I’m gonna get it.

“Then neither are your girlfriends.”

She slams her door shut and drives away.

Jenna

I can't believe I ended up at Deacon’s house last
night. I wasn’t just out and about; Kip was nagging my ear off about me going
back to London, and now is not the right time to tell him I’ve just bought Mrs.
Hale’s bakery. So I went out for a drive and ended up at Deacon’s. I should
have read the signs; I ignored the car on the driveway, and the fact he was
perfectly awake wearing nothing but his underwear, and the smell of woman all
over him. I hate that I allowed myself to get close enough to smell him. Even
with the sweet floral smell stuck to him, he still smelled so good. Just how I
remember him always smelling and I remember how that smell mesmerised me every
time I got close enough to inhale it.

How is it possible to be so affected by someone I
haven’t seen for so long? Someone I thought I was finally over.

But he’s with someone, or
someones
and so am
I.

We hurt each other and the damage can't be undone,
no matter how much we might want it to be. We just weren’t meant to be
together.

“Jenna?” Kip calls through the bathroom door. I’ve
been staring between the mirror and the box in my hand for the last twenty
minutes, thinking he was still asleep.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” I call out, put the box
back in the carrier bag it came from and store it in the empty bathroom
cabinet. I open the door and he kisses me on the cheek.

“I bought organic coffee. I’ll go make some.”

I go downstairs and boil the kettle, avoiding any
morning interaction with my boyfriend. Mum is in the garden reading the
newspaper; I wave through the window and hold up her empty cup. She nods and I
pop a tea bag in it.

Kip comes down in tracksuit bottoms and a vest; I
hand him his coffee. And we join Mum in the garden.

“I’m going to leave about lunchtime, Jen. Will you
have your stuff ready by then?”

“I’ve still got some things to do here. You head
back and I’ll see you at the weekend.” I answer, earning a curious look from my
mum. She says nothing, just gets back to her paper and thanks me for the tea,
but I see the cogs turning.

“Tea? You’re drinking tea?” Kip asks and I nod.

“I’ve got a sudden taste for it.”

He shrugs, shakes his head and picks up the other
newspaper from the table.

“Where’s Dad?”

“He went out this morning, fishing with Bradley.”

Kip puts his paper down and turns to my mum.

“I like fishing. I haven’t been for years.”

My mum looks at me before looking at Kip, and
speaking in an unusually flat tone for my mother.

“He didn’t want to disturb you, dear.”

I know my parents haven’t taken to Kip as much as he
would like. He’s a nice enough guy, and I enjoy being with him. But we have a
very different life back in London together, and he doesn’t seem to fit in
here.

~

We’ve just eaten a lunch of cous cous salad and
summer pudding in the garden, when Kip comes down with his overnight bag. He
brought his Audi this time, so he says goodbye to my parents and Jonas, and I
walk with him to the car.

“So you’ll be back at your flat at the weekend? I
can come and stay and we can go to dinner.” he says, closing the boot and
meeting me at the pavement.

“If I’ve got everything sorted, I will be.” I lie.

“I don’t understand what there is to sort, Jenna.”

“Just some stuff. I haven’t been back here for so
long, and there are people I haven’t caught up with and things I need to do.”

“Okay.” He eyes me suspiciously and holds his arms
out. I step into them and hug him goodbye. I stretch up and kiss him quickly on
the lips but he wraps his arms around me and deepens the embrace and I know
he’s annoyed that he missed out on morning sex.

“I miss having you to myself.” He groans against my
lips as I pull back.

“It won't be long.”

He looks at me strangely again and climbs in the
car, shutting the door and winding down the window.

“Saturday?” He says again, looking at me with his
dark hazel eyes.

“I’ll try. I’ll call you later.”

I shut the door and wave at him as I watch him drive
off, before heading inside.

“I’m just going upstairs, Mum.” I call out as I make
my way up the staircase and back into the bathroom to finish what I started
this morning.

I take the carrier bag back out of the cabinet and
open up the box inside with shaky, nervous hands.

I go downstairs an hour later, and Grace has joined
everyone in the living room. A light breeze is blowing through the open window,
and I’m suddenly nervous as I walk in the room.

“Jenna!” My mum shrieks in surprise as I take my old
spot on the sofa. It’s been so hectic since I came back that I haven’t managed
to sit here and look out at the view I used to adore.

Jonas and Grace turn to look at me as Dad walks
through the front door. For the last hour, I’ve been dying my hair. Brown, like
it used to be.

“What?” I ask, as everyone stares.

“You look like my Jenna again.” Mum starts to well
up, and I want to laugh at her for being silly; and I want to tear up with her
because something as small as my hair colour has made me feel more like my old
self again.

“Princesa.” My dad cries, “You look muy bonita. Like
my Spanish rose.”

“It’s just hair,” I say as I run my fingers through
my soft locks, “What did you catch?”

“Just some plaice and black bream. Bradley caught a
huge Dover sole. Took it home for dinner.”

I help him with his buckets of fish and we take them
to the freezer near the back of the garden.

“Kip wasn’t happy that he wasn’t up to go with you.”

Dad stops, leaning over the freezer with a fish in
mid-air.

“I didn’t invite him.”

Ouch.

“I know, but he would have liked to have gone.”

He takes a deep breath, throws the rest of the fish
in the freezer and turns to me.

“Come.”

Dad beckons me to follow him and we go further down
into the garden where the bench sits nestled between some wild flowers.

“We need una charla.”

I sit next to him on the bench and he pulls a cigar
out of his pocket; I give him the mum-won't-be-impressed look, but he smiles and
puts his finger to his mouth. Our little secret.

“If you get caught, I’m throwing you under the bus.”
I joke.

Dad laughs, but then his face drops; his serious
face. It’s so hard to stay serious – my dad’s eyes are always laughing, and the
little tuft of grey hair on the top of his head is blowing in the breeze.

“Shoot.”

“I don’t think this Kip is right for you. What kind
of name is Kip anyway?”

“What kind of name is Esteban?”

“Touche,” He laughs, “But I’m serious. He’s not one
of us.”

“What does that mean? You’re a Spaniard living in
Folquay, Mum is Welsh and I’m caught somewhere between the two.”

“He doesn’t get the life down here. Is he from the
city?” I nod, “See, I thought as much. He can't sit still for five minutes and
enjoy the life around him. He’s always got to be making a plan, or doing
something he planned days ago. That’s not the kind of life we have here.”

I hesitate, before I answer. I don’t know what to
say.

“I don’t think you’re happy.” He says solemnly.

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s in your eyes. You are my baby and I have
watched you grow and blossom your entire life. But the last five years you’ve
become a stranger and I can see in your eyes that your life isn’t where you
want it to be.” He stops to think, “Deacon, however-“

“Dad, no. You know what things are like with me and
him.”

“I think you know what you want from life, encanta.
Only you can make it happen.”

He taps me on the knee, chops off the end of his
cigar before putting it in his pocket and going inside.

~

We catch a cab to Deacon’s house. I tried with all I
had to get out of going. Apparently I’ve been sick, come on my period, banged
my head, and put on too much weight to fit into my dress, all in one day. But
my parents wouldn’t back down. Needless to say, the black dress Mum bought me
at the weekend fits perfectly. It falls just above my knee and hugs my body. I
don’t have a headache, don’t have periods, and haven’t been sick in months -
since the last time I was horribly drunk, when Jonas came to visit. Jonas
decided he didn’t want to see the drama of tonight and is staying home with
Grace. Bradley is cooking his sole and pulled out of Deacon’s dinner. So it’s
just me, Mum and Dad, Emma and Deacon. Great.

The cab pulls up at the end of his gravel driveway
and we all get out. I’m glad I chose to wear flats, as I watch Mum and Emma
struggle on the tiny stones in their heels and holding on to each other for
dear life.

Emma doesn’t wait for us to be let in; she pushes
the door with a gentle nudge and it opens on a fairy lit, dark wood and brown
living area, surrounded by glass walls and a beautiful view behind them. He
designed this place, I know it.

“In the kitchen!” Deacon calls and Mum and Emma hand
me the bottles of wine they brought. I sigh and head to the kitchen, where I
sat last night.

“Hey,” I say to his back, watching him wiggling to
Fairground,
“I didn’t have you down as a Simply Red fan.”

He presses a button on a remote on the counter next
to him and Elton John comes to life. He turns around and drops the serving
spoon on the floor.

Mr. John starts singing about being everything and
nothing as Deacon walks slowly towards me as if I’m some sort of foreign
object.

“What?” I snap, as he stops in front of me and looks
at me up and down.

He reaches out and brushes some loose strands of
hair away from my face. It’s the first physical contact we’ve had since I got
back here, and I can feel my knees buckling. There’s a lump in my throat that I
can't swallow down as he runs his fingers back down my cheek, and I can't
breathe.

“You look like the girl who left all those years
ago.” He whispers.

I don’t know what to do. I scan the room, looking
for life, but no one’s coming to save me from the awkward, horrible and perfect
situation I’m in.

“I’m different.” I step back, holding on to the
bottles of wine in my hand until my fingers cramp, “You want these on the
table?”

He smiles. Why is he smiling?

“We’re not eating in here.” He turns back to the
stove and takes a few pans off of it.

I watch guiltily as he leans down, opens the oven
door and pulls out a casserole dish. He puts it on the counter, and drains off
the vegetables and potatoes. Then he puts them in a separate dish and picks up
both dishes with oven gloves. He never struck me as an oven glove kind of man.
I can't help but watch him as he walks towards me, and then past me.

My feet involuntarily follow him through the living
area and out of the open French doors on the far side. There’s a small log
cabin outside that I didn’t notice earlier and I see my parents and Emma
sitting at a log table.

“What is it with people and outside dining rooms in
this town?” I mutter, once again grateful for the flat shoes as I struggle
across the grass in the dark.

Deacon hears me and laughs, but continues on to the
cabin and places the dishes in the middle of the table. The only empty seat is
next to him, so I take my place and put the wine next to the food.

“I’m not a great cook,” Deacon says as he sits down,
“So it’s beef stew. No dumplings. Sorry Esteban, but I don’t know what suet
is.”

He stands back up and serves us the food, while I
pour the wine.

“Suet is fat. Beef or lamb. But you can make
dumplings with flour, butter and milk.”

“Well done smart arse,” He snaps, “The next meal is
on you.”

“Who says there will be another one?”

“Come on children,” Emma laughs, “Jen, Deacon has
made a big effort with this meal. And Deac, Jenna is going home soon so she
might not get another dinner in.”

Thanks, Emma.

“Actually,” I confess while playing with the plate
of food Deacon hands me, “I don’t think I’m going back.”

“What?” Mum looks up from her meal, shocked.

“I bought the bakery.”

Silence falls on the table.

“How did you buy it?” Deacon asks.