Page 90 of Every Chance After

Pete perks up. “Really? You think so?”

He’s also a model train enthusiast. His workshop is larger than their ranch house, and only half is devoted to his carpentry projects.

“Absolutely. Maybe you should ask her to see them sometime.”

He smiles weakly. “If you need longer than July, I can put Aunt Charity off until the fall. No later, though. Her arthritis gets worse in the cold.”

“Far be it from me to keep your family apart. I’ll figure something out. Thanks, Pete.”

He lumbers away like a walking surfboard. I tuck his news behind my smile; that’s a problem for another day.

“I think he likes you,” I tell Marigold once inside.

She huffs. “He said my lines were too crooked at my first art show.”

Her venomous words come quickly, and I’m taken aback.Marigold has a venomous side?I suppose we all do. “Well, he makes furniture, so he deals more with straight lines, you know?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe your beautiful art threw him for a curve,” I laugh, and she smirks. “Or maybe you made him nervous, and he didn’t know what to say.”

“Why would I make him nervous?”

“Because he likes you,” I say slowly.

Her eyes widen before narrowing to angry slits. “He doesn’t like anything except killing trees.”

“Whoa, harsh. You haveverybig feelings about Peter Pike.”

Her brow knits. “Yes, big feelings,” she agrees with a small voice.

“Hmm, big feelings are valid, and maybe they’re big for a reason.”

“What reason?”

“You must care what he thinks. Since you still feel this way after all this time, your big feelings might push you toward a second chance. I love second chances. A lot of times, a second chance leads to something better than it was before.”

“Like recycled art?”

“Exactly. And my secondhand board games.”

“And your cats.”

“Ha, yes, my sweet collection of beautiful strays. That’s a perfect example. Pete’s a nice guy, and he thinks you’re nice—he told me so.”

“He did?”

“Yes, so keep an open mind about a second chance. Okay?”

She nods, fidgeting with the hem of her crocheted sweater. “Mom says you’re Grady’s second chance.”

Now, my nerves rise with big feelings. “Second chance for what?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Can we play games now?”

We set up on my small dining table under the wooden globe lamp that Pete created (and I pointed out to her). I learn quickly not to bombard her with questions, that she doesn’t like sharing dips, and that she loves rules, making gameplay second nature for her. What she lacks in conversation, she makes up for in being an excellent opponent. We play every finished game I’ve created:Milk & Eggs, Tickety-Boo,Zombie Grocery Store, andScaredy Cats.She giggles incessantly overTickety-Boo’s funny situation cards, making it a definite win, butMilk & Eggsis her favorite. We play it three times.

Returning it to my game room, she motions to another game spread across a folding table. “What about that one?”

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