Page 12 of The Second Chance Cinema
“Mom.”
“I wanted to see if you two would join us for dessert,” Sandra said, without acknowledging what she’d overheard.
“Sure.” Ellie nodded. Then, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean—”
Sandra had already turned to go back downstairs. For the rest of her party, her mom seemed unfazed. Kind, even. She bragged about Ellie’s achievements. She recounted stories Ellie had told her about Drake. The evening was more enjoyable than she’d anticipated. It felt good to be in her mom’s warmth.
“Thanks for all this, Mom,” Ellie said when things were wrapping up. “I liked the party. You’ve been really generous.”
Drake went to gather their things, leaving the two of them alone. “Well, you know that I’m not one to make a scene,” Sandra said.
There it was. Ellie was thescene. She was the one who stirred up the drama. It was Sandra’s job to make the family more presentable. The giant photo hanging above them on the wall was proof of this. In it, her dad sported a rare smile, and Ben had a carefree arm tossed around Sandra. Ellie was in front, all her teenage whims set aside in lieu of temporary good behavior. She wore a pink—a carnation-pink—dress.
No one who entered the house Sandra now lived in alone would’ve guessed that the seemingly happy group had fallen apart. The photo gutted Ellie with a small knife. “Hard to believe that’s us,” she said. “Sometimes, I don’t remember who I was back then.”
“I remember, Ellie,” her mom said. “You think you’re so different. But you’re just the same.”
The tone had an accusation to it. For once, Ellie wished they could air things out and talk about everything her mom blamedher for. Everything that kept them apart. But before she could tread into those treacherous waters, Drake returned to her side.
“Ready to go?”
“Yeah.” She gave her mom’s shoulder a gentle touch. “I’ll see you in a few weeks for our holiday dinner, Mom?” Ellie asked, even though she suspected that after today, they would push their next encounter out as far as possible. Sometimes, it was easier to pretend.
“Of course,” Sandra told her. She didn’t seem mad, exactly. She was more removed. Maybe that was worse. “I’ll be in touch.”
The door clicked shut. Drake walked Ellie through the leaves and back to the car. As they were driving away, Ellie got lost in her private world. Today had proven yet again that she excelled at making a mess of things. She feared this would become a repeat of the night with the waitress exchange and that Drake would try to peel back more layers and family secrets that she didn’t know how to answer.
“Important thought,” Drake started, and Ellie waited for his prying question.
“Maybe we should do a canopy bed in our room? Frilly. Fringe?”
Ellie cracked a smile. “Yeah. Of course, Nielson,” she said. “I’m a hundred percent on board with you.”
7
It was Saturday again, the night that the manager was due back from the beach. But instead of going to the cinema as planned, Drake dragged Ellie to their friends’ house deep in the suburbs for Scrabble. Hours had passed since they’d first sat on the corduroy sectional set Jen found at a furniture warehouse. “It’s affordable,” she’d gushed, “and comfy, too.” The knot forming in Ellie’s back was proof that only the first part was true.
“Vex,” Marc announced at the start of the game. He’d laid down his tiles almost instantly, but that was classic Marc—quick to show his cards or his feelings. He’d been that way in all the years Ellie had known him.
The lastten years. It was hard for Ellie to believe that Jen and Marc had been together that long. She could still remember the night they met at the tiki bar—layers of dark rum, frozen pineapple whirling inside blenders, and chatty mechanical parrots swinging overhead. Jen had bumped right into Marc while he carried a fishbowl drink to his friends. He’d spilled only a little, but she insisted on buying him a new one. Marc told her, within minutes, that he’d never met anyone like her. That brief encounter had led to this: Jen and Marc having a home together and a baby on the way. It always amazed Ellie how one tiny choice, one tiki drink, could change a life.
Jen tossed a cozy wrap over her maternity yoga set and kicked her platform indoor slippers up onto the matching ottoman. Theslippers were one of the many free samples she was given as the marketing director of an eco-friendly footwear line. They were silly-looking, she admitted earlier that night, but it wouldn’t be very eco-friendly to throw away a free sample.
Jen leaned closer to the board to inspect Marc’s word. “Vex?” she asked. Her right eye twitched. It was always the sweet ones who treated board games like Olympic Qualifiers. “Seriously?”
Yes, vex, Ellie thought to herself.To cause distress. Vex, what Drake was doing to her now, putting up obstacles to avoid the thing Ellie needed most. She’d even scrawled the cinema visit on the calendar of cats floating through space that held his schedule. That morning, Ellie noticed Drake had made one of his own additions beneath a Ragdoll cat cartwheeling through the Big Dipper.
Game Night!
Ellie wanted to press the issue. But with Drake’s resistance, she needed to be strategic. She had to wait for her moment.
“Vexis a real word,” Ellie said, directly to Drake. He missed the barb.
“Well,wineis a word, too.” Jen chimed in. She borrowed the firstefrom Ellie’sephemeralto spell outw-i-n-e, then pushed herself to stand, fighting against the wobbles of the third trimester. “Speaking of, let’s pour some. I’m going to drink vicariously through all of you.”
“I’d love a glass,” Drake said, sinking deeper into the couch. He was so carefree here, in the land of layered rugs and a fourwick Harvest Apple candle. “I could use a little liquid inspiration for this next round.”
“I’ll come with you,” Ellie told Jen. She could sense the conversation heading toward another question-and-answer session between Marc and Drake about plumbing or backsplash tile. Drake was an expert in the finishes of these types of homes, despite his total aversion to working for a planned community.
