Second Chances (9 page)

She turned on the light yet again, this time knowing it would be staying on. She paced around the room for a few minutes before opening one of her suitcases and pulling out an oversized green sweatshirt. She slipped it on over her pink flowered gray pajamas. She crossed the room, pulled back the curtain and unlatched the door.

She stood there for a moment, her hand on the door handle and her eyes on the lit pool and marina beyond. A light breeze was blowing and she could see the gentle bobbing of the boats in the marina. She opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony. The stone was cool on her bare feet, but she gave no thought to going back inside for her shoes. She eased past the two chairs to the iron railing.

"I was wondering when you'd come out. For a while there I was beginning to think you were sending coded messages."

Paige jumped, almost lost her balance and pitched forward a bit. She felt his hand on her arm just long enough to steady her and then it was gone.
 

She turned to the balcony next door.

Nathan stood on his own balcony, leaning up against the railing separating them, he held his hands up in front of him.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"Didn't mean to? What did you think? That I'd be expecting someone else to be out on my balcony in the middle of the night."

"Wasn't on your balcony."

"You know what I mean," Paige insisted.

"Yes. I am sorry. I guess I figured it would be better if you knew right away that I was out here. So, you know, you wouldn't turn to see me here and think I was spying or something."

He looked down and away from her, as if he had suddenly spotted something fascinating in the pool. For a moment she pictured him as a small boy standing scolded before his mother. She didn't know where that image had come from, but she was forced to stifle a laugh.

She cleared her throat. "Messages?"

"What?"

"You said you thought I was sending messages."

"Just joking. Your lights kept going on and off."

"You were watching?"

"No, not really. I've been sitting out here all night, kind of hard not to notice the lights going on and off."

"Oh. All night?"

"Most of it anyway."

"Can't sleep?"

"No," Nathan said. "Not something I am good at anymore. I miss...anyway that isn't all. I guess in a way I am afraid to."

"Afraid to sleep?"

"Yeah. I mean I am scared that if I fall asleep I may wake up to find this was all a dream. And I don't want this to be a dream."

Paige looked at him. He was mostly hidden among the shadows, but enough light from her room shone to see that he was still dressed as he'd been at dinner. She remembered that all he'd carried with him had been the computer case and she knew that there hadn't been a change of clothing in there.

"I'll buy something new tomorrow."

"I wish you'd stop doing that."

Nathan laughed, it was soft, genuine and made Paige smile.

"That was nothing. It doesn't take much to understand that look. I am sure I look like an absolute mess and before too long I will likely stink. If I don't already that is. I won't impose on you further by asking you to sniff me."

This time Paige laughed.

"Well thank you. I am not the type of girl who just goes around sniffing every man she meets."

She saw his smile disappear and realized she'd said the wrong thing. She was surprised to realize it actually upset her to know that her words had likely hurt him, even if only in a small way.

"I mean...I...sorry."

Nathan stepped back, melting a bit more into the shadows, his face now completely obscured in darkness.

"Don't be. I guess to you I do seem like a stranger, don't I?"

"Afraid so."

They both watched the lights of an approaching plane. The plane had long since landed and another had taken off when Paige broke the silence.

"It is just very unnerving. It is not fair. You seem to...No, you definitely do know some, and let me stress some, things about me and yet I know nothing about you. Except that you think I am somehow your wife."

He emerged from the shadows, pulling a chair up behind him. He sat down and looked over at her.

"Fair enough. What would you like to know?"

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, saying nothing. She turned from him and then pulled one of her own chairs toward the railing between them and sat down.

"I am not sure I even know where to begin. Why don't you pick something."

He knew where he would like to start, but also knew how she felt about the subject.

"Okay," he said, a smile appearing on his lips. "I was born at seven thirty-one on a cold October morning. October thirteenth to be exact. I don't know what day of the week it was, but I know it wasn't a friday."

He was rewarded with the smile he'd hoped for. A smile he'd missed for far too long.

Doing his best to keep the details to a minimum, not for times sake, but for the simple fact that he knew it was a less than interesting tale, he recounted much of his childhood. He'd been a popular kid in his neighborhood and at school, not the most popular, but well liked by most.

Paige remained silent, taking it all in and understanding those things he did not say. He'd been called a friend by many but had been known well by very few, if any. Likewise, his parents had no doubt loved him, but not understood him. How many parents ever really understood their children? How many people really even understand themselves for that matter.

When he saw she was genuinely interested in what he was saying, he began to elaborate. Sharing little memories that were both touching and amusing. His attempt to teach himself to drive when he'd only been fourteen, which had resulted in major reconstruction to the garage. The loss during the final game of the season when he'd fumbled the ball on the one-yard line.

He recounted each story with passion. Yes, he hated that he'd fumbled, especially since it looked like his team was actually going to break their three year losing streak. No one had given him any real grief over the loss, in fact most people joked about it, saying if he'd scored then he would have ruined the season. Who wants to be one-and-nine when you can have a perfect oh-and-ten? The garage had been another story entirely. He couldn't say his father wasn't mad as hell and that his mother hadn't been hysterical, but he said that since then he'd never forgotten to raise the garage door.

Somewhere near the time of recounting his high school graduation, he looked up and noticed that Paige's eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling in rhythmic peace. There was a slight smile on her lips and it warmed Nathan. He looked at his watch, almost four-thirty.

Nathan stood and climbed over the railing. As gently as he could, praying he wouldn't wake her, he scooped Paige from the chair. He was relieved to see she didn't so much as blink an eye. Her weight was familiar in his arms and he wasn't sure if that made him want to laugh or cry.

He carried her into her room, laying her gently on the bed. He pulled the sheets up over her. He stood there for a moment, looking down at her, studying the features he knew so well. He swept a lock of hair back off her cheek. He longed to lean down, to kiss her, to lie next to her.

"I love you, Paige."

He waited in silence, hoping to hear the words he'd heard her murmur hundreds of times in her sleep.

In the end, the silence remained. He kissed two fingers on his right hand and then gently touched them to her lips, before turning off the lights and slipping out to the balcony and back to his own room.

She picked up another slice of toast and chewed off the corner before drinking the last of her orange juice. She placed the empty glass on the table and dropped the rest of the toast back onto her plate.

"I know I was not a twin."

Nathan's eyes remained locked on the plate for a moment before he turned his attention to her and said, "What?"

"I said, I know I wasn't a twin."

"I never said you were."

He glanced at the plate again, a frown on his face.

"I know," she said. "I'm just talking out loud. Trying to work it out."

"Okay, sorry."

"And even if I were a twin and we'd been separated at birth..."

"You both couldn't have the same memories, the same past."

Paige nodded her head. She looked at Nathan from her balcony. He was leaning against the railing between them. When she'd woken, she had been surprised not only that she'd been able to fall asleep, but also by the fact that she was in her bed. She figured it had been Nathan and wanted to thank him but couldn't bring herself to say the words. She'd found him exactly where he'd been the previous night, out on his balcony, and wondered if he'd spent the entire night there.
 

"True. It seems obvious that this person knew my past. The things you know about me..."

"But it can't be you?"

"No," Paige said, shaking her head. "I am sorry, Nathan. I don't know who your wife was, but it was never me. Until yesterday I had never seen you before.
 
I had never spent any time with you. Never posed for those pictures with you. And I certainly never married you."

"All evidence to the contrary."

"To you, all evidence to the contrary. Evidence. Evidence. Nathan, your wife...your Paige..."

He waited for her to continue but she remained silence.

"Paige?"

"I want to ask you a question, but..."

"But?"

"I don't want to hurt you. I know you think you know me, but I don't know you. Even so, I know that I don't want to hurt you."

"You could only hurt me by leaving...again."

Paige shook her head and sighed.

"Well then it is inevitable that I am going to hurt you. I am not your wife and so eventually we will part ways."

"Unless I prove..."

"If you prove I am your wife then we'll still be parting ways. I'll have to have myself committed."

"You aren't crazy."

"I know."

"I'm not crazy either."

"I did not mean to imply you were, Nathan. I was just joking, or attempting to. What I am saying is that I know who I am. I do not know who your wife was or why she was pretending to be me, but I know I was never her."

"Pretending to be you?"

"Yes. I mean look at everything you know about me She must have been mimicking me."

"And who is to say you aren't mimicking her?"

She gasped.

"Why would I?"

"I don't know. But it's as valid a question as why would she mimic you. Isn't it?"

"No! Listen, I know who I am and I am not mimicking anyone."

Nathan smiled at her anger.

"You are trying to push my buttons, aren't you?"

"Just testing," he admitted. "You reacted exactly as my Paige would have. And you reacted that way because you are my Paige."

"No, Nathan, I am not. Hell, maybe on some level I actually wish I were. The passion you have for that woman in your pictures is obvious and who wouldn't want to be loved that way? However, the fact remains that I know who I am. I am Paige Kendall. I am twenty-four years old and I happen to be very single."

Nathan shuddered briefly, as if hit by a sudden chill, but remained silent for a few moments lost in thought.

"But, you say that she, my Paige if that is how you want me to refer to her, was mimicking you."

"Well since I am quite certain of who I am, she would be the one pretending to be me and not the other way around."

"Then explain something to me."

"I will if I can," she assured him.

"The fire."

"The fire?"

"Yes, the one that just happened, where you lost everything. If my Paige was mimicking you, how is it that she told me about the fire years ago?"

Paige sat there for a moment. She chewed her lower lip, a determined expression upon her face as her mind raced to comprehend what Nathan had just said.

He noticed that it began in her hands first, a slight trembling. Then her teeth began to chatter and the determined expression was gone from her face, as well as all her color. He silently cursed himself. He should have been more careful, he needed to stop this before it went too far.

"So, your question?"

She blinked and looked at him, a puzzled expression upon her face.

"What?"

He reached over and took her trembling hands in his, trying very hard to control his own, to make it seem like an innocent gesture.

"You wanted to ask me a question. You wanted to ask me a question, but didn't want to hurt me. Remember?"

"I...umm"

She squeezed his hands, consciously or unconsciously Nathan didn't know or care because he felt her trembling subside. She gave a weak smile, maybe in thanks, maybe in relief.

"H...how did your Paige die?"

Now it was his turn to fall silent. Paige looked at him, his eyes seemed to glaze over and even though she was sitting opposite of him, still holding his hands, she knew he was gone. He was miles and years away from the small balcony they were on.

She waited as the minutes slipped by. She could tell he was in agony, reliving the event.

"I'm sorry," she finally murmured, truly regretting ever posing the question.

"I...I don't think I am ready to talk about it."

"I understand," she quickly responded.

"No. I don't think you do. It's been over a year. In a way I've come to grips with the situation, maybe not completely, but..."

"Yes?"

"You. I'm not exactly sure how you'll respond. I don't know that you are ready to hear it."

"Nathan, I'd react fine. I mean I am very sorry for your loss. Please believe that. However, I am not nor was I ever her and I did not know her. So while I have sympathy for what you have no doubt gone through over her death, it would not effect me the same."

He placed his hands together as if getting ready to pray and rested the tips of his index fingers against his chin. He closed his eyes and whether he actually did pray or only thought for a moment, Paige couldn't tell.