Page 5 of No Second Chances

I pull out my phone to check the time, surprised when it isn’t even midafternoon yet. Still plenty of time to take a nap. Except for the fact that my mom and little sister are home, and there is no chance that they’ll leave me alone. Not when I’ve been gone for six months and especially since I didn’t tell them when I was coming home. The possibility that they’d make one of those huge, over-the-top garish signs welcoming us back was just too high. And I absolutely hate being the center of attention. It is bad enough that people in our hometown treat us like we are heroes for literally doing what so many of our parents have done before us.

“Actually, I think I’ll just take a nap here.” I grab my bag and start walking up to Remy’s front door. “There’s no way I’ll get any rest with my little sister at home.” Although it is a complaint, it is a good-natured one.

“Besides, your whole family lives on a crazy compound, and they’ll all be up in your shit.”

“It’s not a compound,” I tell him for the millionth time while we unload our bags in the hall and walk through the house. “We own most of a street from way back in the old days. So when my grandfather built rental houses on it and then died, it made sense to keep it in the family.”

Remy just shrugs. “Whatever, man. It’s weird that you all live on the same street. Not to mention you all eat and do all kinds of shit together. I would shoot myself if I had to live with my siblings that close to me.” He looks pointedly at all the girl crap piled high on his parents’ kitchen table when we walk in. “See what I mean?”

I don’t know what to say. I love the fact that after I’m done in the Marines, I’ll be close to my family. It makes the separation now so much easier to handle. It means that I don’t need to worry about cooking my own meals if I don’t want to. My mom was raised in the South, like the super South, and she always makes enough food to feed everyone.

His mom is standing there, waiting for us to pay attention to her like she hasn’t just spent months away from her only son. She is expectant, clearly waiting for him to give her a hug and tell her that he missed her. Still Remy is playing a game, one that their whole family seems to get in on from time to time. He did it with Kennedy at the airport too. They ignore each other, waiting until one or the other gives in and demands attention.

Honestly, I’m not sure which one of them will win this time. Remy learned everything he knows about women from the one standing in front of us. She is more stubborn than all of her kids, and me, put together. His mom is staring at both of us with one eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip. She has a spotless wooden spoon in one hand and wears an apron covered in flour. She looks like something out of a women’s magazine, like Pioneer Woman.

“Jeremy Townsend, you will get your ass over here right now and give your momma a hug, or so help me, I will beat you within an inch of your life.” Even though she is threatening him, it is clear to me that Mrs. T is getting ready to burst into tears if he waits any longer.

Still, it is adorable the way a five-foot-tall woman is able to command her son, at six foot four, to give her a hug.

“I love you too, Mama.” Then Remy hugs his momma like he’s been ordered.

Once they are done, Mama T is sniffling, and Remy looks like he is finally happy to be home.

“Well then.” She sniffs. “You two better eat, shower, and get rested. If I know those friends of yours, you’re in for one hell of a party.”

3

KENNEDY

The smell of fresh-baked pie announces Mom’s presence before she actually comes into my room after Linc and Remy leave for their party.

“You should go,” she says quietly. “You never leave the house anymore. It would be good for you. I know that you want to.”

She is right. I’ve been sitting up here for three hours, trying to convince myself that it is time for me to make a move, to do something about my feelings for Linc, but so many things stop me. Not the least of which is what I went through the last time I’d gone to a party with anyone in our town. But I can’t tell my mom that. Instead, I put on my best fake smile and aim it right at her.

“I think I’d rather stay home and watch a movie. With you.” Then, just to make sure she buys it, I bat my eyelashes at her and pout.

She doesn’t buy it, not for a second. Her indelicate snort is the final thing that gives it away.

“Fine,” I huff at her. “I don’t want to go.”

“Liar,” she says bluntly. Mom never really has time for bullshit, especially after everything that happened. “You do want to go. I know for a fact that you still have feelings for Linc. Even after everything you went through. When you wouldn’t let anyone else in. Do you think I didn’t see you writing letters to him at the kitchen table?”

Swallowing is suddenly extremely hard, as her words cut through every excuse I try to put up.

“I also saw that you never mailed a single letter either. Which meant you were never planning on telling him in person.” Mom keeps going like she hasn’t just wiped me out with her words. “So, I suggest you raid your closet for your cutest little black dress, and you go make him see you. Really see you. Especially if he can bring you back to me after everything that happened last year.” She holds it together until the end, but that’s when I see her wipe away a few tears.

Okay, so keeping everything that happened to myself hurts the people around me. I understand that. But if they find out the truth, the full extent of it, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that it will destroy my entire family. So, I’ll continue to keep my secret, and I’ll heal in my own way to protect everyone I love.

Still, Mom is right. I do want Linc, more than anything else. I want what he’ll bring to me—something I didn’t have before and need now.

Blinking away the stray thoughts, I decide that Mom is right. After all, it’s not like I want him forever. Just one night will be enough. One night to get him out of my head and into my bed, and then I can just walk away. It’s not like it will be all that hard, either. Linc is in the military. He’ll be going back to his duty station, and I’ll finally be able to get on with my life. Not that my life revolves around him, just that he’ll be able to give me something back that I’ve had stolen—a choice.

“I don’t have a little black dress.” The admission hurts, for so many reasons.

A year ago, I’d have four at a minimum. Although after that dark night, I threw out anything that made it easy for me to be taken advantage of. No skirts, dresses, or anything that rode up on my thighs. I’ve lived in overly large shirts and leggings ever since. The only thing to survive the purge was my skinny jeans. Those only made it because I knew at some point, I’d have to do something requiring actual pants and not leggings.

“Raid your sister’s closet. Cassie kept at least half your dresses before you could get them into the trash.” Mom rolls her eyes. “Lord knows that girl is going to be the death of me.” With that, she leaves me to my own devices. Mom is always like that.

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