Read The Science of Second Chances Online

Authors: Nicky Penttila

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Short Stories, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Single Authors

The Science of Second Chances (2 page)

BOOK: The Science of Second Chances
11.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“I thought, you know, you being a scientist, it might be great to have you along, in case the kids have questions.”

“But you didn’t introduce me.”

His brows shot up. He hadn’t thought of that.

“You suck at lying. Still.”

He shook his head, smiling. The curve of his jaw seemed more square than before. She longed to reach up and trace it to see if it was as solid as it looked.

“Yeah. It’s just…”

Before he could finish, his younger self interrupted. “Dad, let’s go,” stretching out the O sound like a half-speed fire truck siren.

“Right, everyone. Onward, at your own pace. We have one hour in this wing, so one o’clock back at the elephant for lunch. Right?”

The three girls drifted to the experiment tables, while two of the boys went to another video kiosk. Matt’s son hadn’t moved. He looked at Sam.

Matt cleared his throat. “Son, this is Dr. Dobler, from NOAA, the ocean people.”

“Medical or academic?”

“It’s a Ph.D.,” she said carefully.
Odd question
.

“And this is my son,
Chip.”

“Sam,” the boy corrected.

Sam?
Really?
Her gaze shot to Matt.

He grimaced. “It was Cecilia’s grandfather’s name.”

“The one who threw her out of the house?”

The boy interrupted. “Because of you,” he said, pointing at her.

Sam stepped back. An involuntary movement, sure, but reasonable too. What was he accusing her of?
And who was he to judge?

Matt just stood there, gaping.

She felt the heat in her face, and turned the unwanted shame into anger at Matt. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.”

“So he believes whatever his mother told him.”

“She wouldn’t speak ill of you, not after what you did.”

Young Sam jumped in. “So she did do something.”

Samantha frowned. When had this become a
telenovela
? “Is there something else you’re not telling me?”

Matt sighed
, long. His eyes gave an apology.
Seen that before
. “Our divorce became final about a year ago. Sam here didn’t take it well.”

“You kicked her out,” Sam said, nearly shouting. “And for this?”

“Enough.” The boy shut his mouth, but his own eyes spoke volumes. Matt reached for his arm, but he shook his hand off.

“I have not
even spoken to Dr. Dobler since we were both in college. Have I?” He turned to her for confirmation. She nodded.
Where is this going?

In
stead of easing the teen’s mind, the answer seemed to paste more confusion across his face. “Then why are you talking to her now?”

Good question
. Samantha looked as expectantly at Matt as his child did.

“I’m not sure,” he said.

They both groaned. Young Sam had apparently heard enough, for he turned and caught up with his friend.

Old Sam, as she caught herself thinking of herself, should
do the same. “So, Matt, it was nice to see you. Your Sam looks well. I wish you the best.”

It all came out in a rush, and took Matt a beat to understand. She had already taken a step away from him before he could react.

“Sam!”

As she swung her head back to face him, she saw the boy had done the same
—and caught his father not calling for him. She watched his face crumble for half a second before he hid it behind his frowny-cool teen-boy mask.

“You need to look to your son,” she said, hoping her voice sounded stern. “He’s
family.”

But he followed her, catching up just inside the main hall. “Wait. Meet me for a drink, after we put the kids to bed.”

“Why?” She was having just as much trouble as the boy hiding her feelings.
How can his just being here sting so much?
“What benefit would there be?”

“Life isn’t about costs and benefits,” he said softly. His eyes, always so expressive, pleaded with her, for what she could not guess. She didn’t want to. She couldn’t.

“No. Life is about action and consequences. Good afternoon, Matt. Goodbye.”

 

****

 

Matt Greenleaf passed a hand across his eyes. How could six teenagers be more exhausting than a soccer team full of middle-schoolers?

Maybe because there were really a half-dozen people fighting for dominance inside each of these strong, frail bodies.

Well, he was tired of all of them, and they were surely just as sick of him. He wasn’t one of the “fun” parents, but one of the hard-core, requiring they listen to him and mind. Just ask his kid, Chip Off the Old Block, sulking behind his iPod ear buds here in the hotel room they shared.

“Ready to talk yet?”

“Why can’t I room with one of the other kids? Jordy is alone, now that Greg’s gone home.”

Matt sat on his bed, the first made bed he’d sat on since his wife had left. Making beds was on the C-list, after taking her damned dog to the vet. He’d left the dog at the vet, with instructions to call his ex, but you couldn’t exactly do that with your kids. Not if you ever wanted them to come see you again.

“Fine,” he said.

Chip popped both ear buds out at that one. “Really?”

“Really. This trip is to show you how adult you are. Living with a roommate for a few days is part of that.”

Chip’s
face lit up, a smile stretching wide. Matt’s heart eased. It had been so long since he’d seen that look. His soul had missed it.

Chip started packing, if that’s what you could call sweeping all your things into your arms and dumping them into a duffel. Matt hadn’t done much more than that,
himself. Although he did bring one nice outfit, khakis and a striped Oxford, almost unwrinkled. Just in case.

Chip shuffled to the bathroom, swept up his boy potions, and returned. As he tumbled them on top of his clean clothes, Matt sighed. Chip stiffened.

“Wait. What do you want in exchange?”

“Who says I want anything?”

“You always want something. You always want to talk.” Chip’s sigh was something out of silent pictures, it was so dramatic.

It was an opening, though.
Matt hadn’t thought he could get it so soon. His son was as laconic as his ex. He jumped at the chance.

“What do you know about Dr. Dobler?”

“Sam, you mean,” his Sam said, stretching out the name.

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t named after her or anything, was I? That would be gross.”

“No. Your grandpa’s name was Sam. The one
who died before you were born. We started calling you Chip pretty quick, though.”

He nodded and zipped his duffel. The zipper gave him trouble; the bag was overpacked. Chip sat at the foot of his own bed. Matt noticed their stances matched
: feet on the floor, hands on knees.

“The
fake doctor is the one who left you at the altar days before the wedding. Mom had to pick you up off the floor and save you.”

“That’s what she told you?” The audacity of the lie took
Matt’s breath away. Chip’s face did not carry the tell he was lying, though. Matt closed his eyes.
Think hard. Dangerous territory
. “I don’t want to hurt you, kid.”

“You’re not hurting me.”

“I don’t want to hurt your relationship with your mom.”

“You did that already, remember? You walked out.”

Matt shifted to the side of the bed, facing his son. Kids could slice you open so fast. “You’re almost eighteen. Are you ready for some truth?”

Chip crossed his arms and looked away, toward the window. Matt wondered again, were his forearms ever so skinny?

“OK, here goes. From the top, Samantha Dobler did not leave me; I left her.”

His son’s head snapped around to look at him. “You left? Then why were you wrecked?”

“I didn’t want to leave, but I had to.”

Chip frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“I’d done something wrong. Something forever wrong. Sam here, Dr. Dobler, told me I needed to make it right. And she was right.”

“Wait.” Chip’s hand went up, and his expression went blank. His math-team face, cogitating. Matt watched his beautiful boy, the anchor of his life, try to work out his most painful secret.
Chip frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Know
what?”

“Your wedding date. I know your anniversary is in June. Was,” he corrected, the sneer returning to his voice.

“We were married the same year you were born.” Matt knew he was making the arithmetic harder, but even that broke his heart to say. Not to mention a promise he’d made to his ex, when she was his wife, all so many moons ago.

He saw the moment the truth hit Chip. His strong Little Leaguer, his Eagle Scout, his “I’m an adult now” boy suddenly went pale and reached a hand out to him. Matt took it and squeezed.

“You married mom because of me.”

“I did, son.
Exactly the right thing to do. I am so, so proud of you.”

“But you. You didn’t love her?”

Matt chuckled. “Well, I made love to her, didn’t I?”

“Shit!” He put a hand up by his ear as if he could un-hear what Matt had said. Then his face took on a look of real horror. “But, but. Did she love you?”

Matt couldn’t stop jerking back further on the bed. The pain was too new. His movement pulled Chip’s hand out of his. Matt shook his head.
Focus. Strong, for the kid
.

But Chip was too fucking smart. “Wait. Mom’s known Jerry since high school, too. Did they, were they…” His so-brave boy couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Sweetie. She loves you so much. She would never hurt you.”

“But she didn’t mind hurting you?”

Matt swallowed.
No, she didn’t. She never had
.

“Why did she even marry you, then? Has she ever been faithful at all?”

“It wasn’t like that.”
Except yes, it was
. Matt had been so slow on the uptake. It was a miracle he hadn’t found them in his own bed, as obvious as they were. For years. “Well, she was never a one-man woman,” he finally said into the silence.

Chip pulled his knees up,
wrapping his arms around them tightly. Matt sighed and started to reach his hand out to his son’s shoulder.

But
Chip burst up, onto his feet, arms flailing. One fist hit his dad just above the ear, toppling him onto the floor. Chip stared at him, shocked, silenced, waiting for Matt to explode.

Get a grip, man. You’re the adult.
Matt shook it off and rolled back onto his haunches. Wild teenage energy, that’s all it was, and it got him talking, thank God, but Matt could barely keep up.

“Jeebus, sorry, dad. You OK? But cripes, the only kid with two parents, and the whole thing’s a lie. Pretend, make-believe, doing it all just for the kid.”

“No, Sam. We tried to work it out. It worked – for us, too – for a long time.” He winced, and touched the side of his face.
Didn’t see that coming
.

“No
, it didn’t. You’re just bullshit. I knew something was wrong, something people weren’t saying. Mom told me stuff, and you never did, and look what happened.”

Matt couldn’t follow his thinking. “What’s happened? You’re fine. I’m fine. You’re getting another parent, a step-dad. It’s not the end of the world.”

“No.” Chip’s head tilted, mouth turned down in that adults-are-so-dumb curve. “You tell us to follow our dream, to do what we love, and what do you do? Lie.”

“We also tell you to man up to your responsibilities.”

“I’m a responsibility now?”

“Of course you are. A burden, and a joy. Why do you think I hound you about condoms?”

Chip dropped to sit on the floor, his back against the media console. “So I wouldn’t make your mistake.”

“And you won’t. Will you?”

His beautiful boy gave an ugly shrug. “Maybe I will, who knows?”

Matt closed his eyes and counted to ten. Chip didn’t respond well to anger. He slowly gave his own shrug. Chip’s eyes narrowed, and Matt knew that was the right move. The room went silent but for their breaths.

Matt thought back to that night, of course it was night, when he had to tell Samantha. She didn’t have a car, so he went to pick her up at the dress shop. She bounded into the car with a big plastic bag of petticoats or whatever they were, breathless and beaming. He drove her to their favorite spot by the river and broke her heart.

She’d
gone silent, too, staring out at the river, nothing moving but the tears down her cheeks, one, two, three. It had been at least ten tortuous minutes, two whole songs on the radio plus some.

BOOK: The Science of Second Chances
11.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Let the Church Say Amen by ReShonda Tate Billingsley
Requiem by Frances Itani
Black Mountain by Greig Beck
Execution Dock by Anne Perry
The Miracle Man by James Skivington