Page 21 of The Second Chance Year

Luckily, we’ve both been busy at work, and our schedules haven’t matched up very well, so it hasn’t been an issue yet. But I need to get past this before it becomes one. I cross the room back to Alex, reminding myself that this is my second chance year, and Alex won’t be walking away again. I plan to do everything right this time around.

Just as I sit down and reach for Alex’s hand, my phone rings, and the wordHomepops up on the screen. I sigh, realizing my mistake. I’d mentioned to my mom that I’d be at Alex’s tonight, and the surefire way to get my parents’ attention is to mention Alex. I bet they’ve been waiting by the phone for the right time to call all evening.

“Hi, Sadie,” my mom says after I’ve answered the phone.The volume of her voice rises and falls, probably because she has the phone set to speaker so my dad can participate. “Is Alex there?”

At least she gets straight to the point.Where’s Alex? How’s Alex’s high-powered job?No sense in pretending they’re interested in what’s going on in my life. How much is there to say about brownies and cupcakes, anyway?

My mom is the dean of the literature department at Rutgers University and a renowned expert in nineteenth-century women’s literature, and my dad literally wrote the textbook on ancient Greek translation. In my childhood, it was normal for me to come home from soccer practice to find my parents and their professor friends drinking red wine in the living room and discussing George Eliot’s influence on modern feminism or the symbolism in Homer’sThe Odyssey.

With a whole alphabet of letters after their names, it was only natural my parents expected Owen and me to go to college and then graduate school. And in my brother, they got everything they ever wished for. He tested into the school’s gifted program when he was in first grade, earned straight As all through middle and high school, and had his pick of Ivy League universities after graduation.

And then there was me.

Let’s just say I was well into high school before I realizedThe Odysseyisn’t part of theStar Warstrilogy. School just wasn’t my thing, and I couldn’t pretend it was.

I landed a job working the cash register at a bakery when I was fifteen, and that’s where I found my passion. Bread, cookies, cakes, tarts, I loved them all equally. And whenthe head chef broke her femur in a fly-fishing accident and was laid up for a month, I got my big break in the kitchen. My parents indulged me for a while—after all, who doesn’t love a three-tiered banana cake with hazelnut and chocolate frosting? But when I stopped thinking of baking as a hobby and started to believe it could be my career, they were devastated. You’d think I’d gone into the adult entertainment industry the way they still can’t really talk about it. I’m pretty sure their favorite thing about me is my boyfriend.

“Alex is right here, Mom.” I switch my phone to speaker and hand it to Alex, mouthing, “I’m sorry.”

He grins and shakes his head like it’s no big deal. I’m reminded of how lucky I am to have him back in my life.

“Alex, how are you, son?” my dad’s voice cuts into my thoughts.

Alex leans over the phone. “I’m good, Jim. How are you?”

“Fine, fine.” My dad clears his throat. “Listen, I was reading theWall Street Journalthis morning and stumbled upon a really interesting article—”

I snort and try to disguise it as a cough. My dad never had one bit of interest in theWall Street Journaluntil I started dating Alex. Now he has a subscription and reads it over coffee every morning. Apparently, he was pleasantly surprised to discover the paper covers tech news as well as finance, so it’s given him a lot to talk about with Owen as well as Alex.

But just try to get him to watch an episode ofCupcake Wars. Just try.

My dad doesn’t seem to notice me snuffling on the other end of the phone, which is typical. “—and I wanted to ask you your thoughts on mortgage-backed securities…” Heproceeds to launch into a description of an article that makes absolutely no sense to me, and probably doesn’t make sense to him, either.

It shouldn’t bother me that my dad is manufacturing reasons to bond with my boyfriend, but I can’t help it. When Alex and I broke up during my Very Bad Year, my parents were absolutely devastated… Not because their daughter was heartbroken, but because she’d blown their shot at a son-in-law with an MBA who they could be proud of.

While Alex is patiently talking my dad through something or other—don’t ask me what, I have no idea—I answer the door for our food delivery and dig through Alex’s carefully ordered cabinets to set the dining table. Then I slosh more wine in my glass and top off Alex’s whiskey. He’s going to need it if this conversation goes on much longer. Finally, Alex manages to escape my dad’s grip, and he slides into the chair across from me.

“Thanks for your patience with my parents.” I flash a crooked smile and pass him a cardboard food container.

“It’s fine.” He shrugs and scoops rice onto his plate. “I enjoy discussing finance with your dad.”

I’m pretty sure he’s lying because only someone who enjoys suffering would enjoy discussing finance with my dad. But it means a lot that he’d make the effort. As I gaze across the table at my boyfriend’s handsome face, I’m reminded again of how lucky I am to have this chance to hold our relationship together.

Alex recently took me to another event with his work friends, and for the most part, it went fine. Last time around, I remember that same dinner was awkward and tense,probably because everyone at the table had seen me blow up at Zach a few weeks earlier. But this time, I’d never blown up at Zach, and nobody had any idea that I’d wanted to. So, I spent most of the evening getting to know the other girlfriends and avoiding the side of the room where a couple of the most obnoxious guys had staked their claim. I talked to one woman about her career as a data analyst and another about being a nurse practitioner. Everyone was super interested to hear about my job as a pastry chef and what it’s like to work for a guy they’ve seen as a guest judge onTop Chef. As we said our goodbyes, I realized I’d actually had fun. And then on the cab ride home, Alex gave me a long kiss and told me how happy he was that I came.

He definitely didn’t saythatthe last time around.

So, I need to let go of the idea that this relationship is going to suddenly dissolve like cotton candy in a rainstorm. I’d overreacted during my Very Bad Year, and now I’ve learned how to handle things better. Which reminds me—“Hey,” I say to Alex. “I meant to ask you if you hired that woman for the financial consultant position. The really qualified one we talked about?”

“Uh, yeah.” Alex spoons green curry onto his plate. “I believe her paperwork is still making its way through HR.”

“Really?” I grin at him across the table. “You hired her?”See?This is the perfect example of how well my second chance year is going. I didn’tneedto blow up at Zach. All along, I should have calmly talked to Alex. “When does she start?”

“A couple of weeks, maybe.” He looks up at the ceiling, trying to remember. “I’ll have to check with Zach.” His gaze slides to me. “How are things at your job?”

I chat for a bit, telling him about the new recipes I’ve beendeveloping, and then I trail off, remembering all the other stuff.

“What is it?” he prompts, after a moment of silence.

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