Falling into a Second Chance by Alie Garnett

Chapter Thirty-Two

The house was coming together quicklywith the contractor and his team doing all the work and Chris staying out of the way. They had the kitchen nearly finished, and the hardwoods had been laid on the entire second floor. But Chris’s heart wasn’t in the remodel anymore; his entire focus was on the empty house across the street, waiting to see if a certain sister showed up. If anyone showed up.

His talk with Harper the day before had cleared up some, but not all, of the questions he had about Agatha. He wondered if he was the boy who had made fun of her name, but he couldn’t remember. It did sound like something I would’ve done, he thought in shame.

In an attempt to find out, he had decided to visit his mom, who couldn’t remember anything about his elementary school years and didn’t want to. But he grabbed a box that contained his yearbooks and some other mementos and took them to his house.

As he looked through the box, he glanced out the window at Agatha’s dark house. She must be missing her studio. It had been days since she had been there. He wondered if Poppy could walk yet. He was missing her more than he expected to, but he figured that she was a small part of the woman he loved, so naturally, he loved her as well.

In the box he found his kindergarten yearbook, their pictures side by side. Agatha had a toothy grin that was already a little sassy, yet Chris was missing most of his teeth and had barely smiled for the picture. Even now, he could remember how he had thought she was cute back then. It also made him realize how much Poppy looked like her mom.

As he paged through other yearbooks, he watched her change and grow up, himself always alongside her. In the fourth grade, she had cut her hair into a short style much like her current one. He noticed that she’d grown it out again so that she had long hair in her senior picture. He remembered that by the end of the year, it was short again.

He recalled that she had said her dad left when she was in junior high, but he saw no evidence that his leaving had affected her, other than the fact that her clothes went from brightly colored T-shirts to black. Or maybe that was how it affected her; his leaving took her love of color with him.

Putting the yearbooks aside, he took out articles and clippings from his football career. Those held no interest for him at all once he caught sight of something he thought had been tossed out years before: a valentine with a hand-drawn bunny on it with the words “Somebunny Loves You” written in cursive and Christie’s name at the bottom. He wondered now if she had drawn it especially for him or if she had just given him one she had drawn, not carrying what it said.

After repacking the box, he set it in the corner, leaving the card out. Whichever of Agatha’s sisters he saw next, he would send the card with her to give to Agatha. Maybe then Agatha would talk to him.

With no other idea what to do, Chris returned to sitting on his front step, knowing she wasn’t coming out today. She was still hiding.

But he sat and stared anyway; there was nothing else to do. His contractor no longer let him help. It seemed that even under supervision, he couldn’t get anything done right. This included him having to have a toilet replaced three times.

As cars passed and kids yelled from somewhere, Chris looked at the house he wanted to be in with Agatha and Poppy as a family.

“Boy, are you depressing to look at,” someone said from the sidewalk.

Looking over at a brown-haired guy in a suit and blue tie, he sat up. He had no idea who the guy was, but he was happy someone wanted to talk to him. Without Agatha and Poppy around, he was bored.

“Thanks, just letting my mind wander.”

“Toward some Lovely lady, I assume. They dig their claws into you, and you can’t shake them. Even when they disappear.” The man sat down near him and looked at the house as well.

“What are you talking about?” Chris asked in confusion. The man was talking in riddles.

“You missing Agatha,” the man stated.

“Do you know her?” Chris turned to the guy, excited. Maybe he could tell him where to find Agatha.

“You have no memory at all!” The man laughed. “Or maybe you weren’t paying attention to anyone but Agatha that night. I’m married to the lovely Maby Lovely. My name’s Cliff.”

“Chris Lowell.” Chris shook the man’s hand, but still didn’t remember him from the dinner at Agatha’s mom’s house. Cliff was right; his eyes had been on Agatha that night, and her daughter.

“That I know. I should beat you up for sleeping in my woman’s bed, but I can account for her movements that night, so I’m okay.” Cliff chuckled.

Chris shrugged. “Thanks for letting me off so easy.”

“Any time. But do not, I repeat, do not touch my woman,” Cliff warned, not that Chris was a threat on that front. If she hadn’t looked exactly like her twin sister, Chris wouldn’t even remember her, but identical twins tended to be memorable.

Chris raised his hands in the air. “I will leave her be.”

“Good, now show me your house. What are you doing with it?” Cliff got to his feet.

“Selling it once it’s done. I really like how it is turning out,” Chris admitted, though he was not really responsible for its appearance.

After showing Cliff around the house and telling him everything that had been done and everything that was going to be done, Chris was surprised with how many questions Cliff had. But it made the morning go quickly.

“So when are you going to be done?” Cliff asked as they made their way back outside.

“Two weeks, I think. Two weeks,” he repeated, looking back at Agatha’s house.

Cliff patted him on the shoulder. “She won’t come back until you’re gone, no matter how long it takes.”

“I know. I just miss her,” he admitted to this virtual stranger.

“It’s the claws; they dig in deep. But it doesn’t hurt as bad when they’re around,” Cliff said.

Both their eyes followed a white Jeep that pulled to a stop in front of Agatha’s house. Both watched with interest as a brunette climbed from the driver’s seat and waved at them.

“Your wife?” Chris asked, because it was either her or her twin.

“Nope, that’s Lucy,” he replied, walking toward the woman.

Cliff gave Lucy a hug when they reached her. “Did you bring the babies or kids?”

“Nope, Leo’s home with the boys, and the girls are all with their mothers,” Lucy explained as she opened the back end of the Jeep.

“And you?” Cliff asked.

“I’m making desserts for tomorrow night. My kitchen—for now—only has one oven. This one has two. Harper is coming to help.” She started handing the men things to carry into the house.

“Just like old times,” Cliff said as his arms were filled with baking supplies.

“Except no one’s here.” Lucy rushed to open the door for them, her arms empty.

“I know, it’s creepy. It’s never this empty. I remember one morning waking up in your room, and everyone had someone over. Well, not my Maby, but everyone else did. It was a fucking madhouse.” Cliff set his load on the counter, and Chris followed suit.

“I know, and now it’s empty. Agatha and the baby will be back one day,” she said, looking right at Chris with a glare. “What are you doing in the neighborhood, Clifton?”

“I am going to buy my lady love a house.” Cliff grinned at her.

“You’ve already bought her a house,” Lucy pointed out, ignoring Chris.

“She doesn’t really like it, so I’m going to buy Chris’s. She’ll love living next to Agatha and having Mom Lovely right down the street. And I know she loves older houses rather than new ones.”

Chris stared at Cliff. He had said nothing about wanting to buy the house, just that he wanted to see it. His heart sank. He had a buyer, but he still wanted to live there so that he knew when Agatha came home.

“You didn’t say anything about buying it,” Chris stated.

“Soon, I will buy it. You should get one on this street too,” Cliff said to Lucy.

“No way, this house is tiny compared to Leo’s. With six kids, we need all the room we can get. Maybe when the two big ones are gone, but maybe not then either. I kind of like where we’re at,” Lucy said.

“Your loss, Luce,” Cliff said. “I have to get to work before my lady love realizes I’m not there.”

With a hug to his sister-in-law, he was off, leaving the room in a vacuum of silence between Chris and Lucy.

“Have you seen Agatha?”

“Not today.”

“You have the twins?” he asked, even though he knew she did. There were two car seats in the back of her vehicle. He just wanted to make conversation.

“Yes, that’s me.” She didn’t elaborate.

“I love Agatha. Everything about her.” He decided to lay it out there for her sister.

For days he has just wanted to talk to Agatha, but if he had to go through her sister, he would. If pouring his heart out to this woman would get his Agatha to come back, he would do it.

“Did you tell her?” Lucy asked, her attention fully on him now.

“Yes, but it was too late. She was already mad at me for reading to Poppy.”

“Her books, Chris. Her own family had only known she had published them for just a few weeks. She doesn’t share easily.”

He sat down on a stool. “I know. She hid that she was an artist from me until after we had slept together.”

“You and your friends made fun of her for being an artist. I don’t even think anyone at the school knew she had gotten into art school.” Lucy started pulling out ingredients.

“She must have loved art school.” He could see her there, talking colors with her like-minded friends.

“She quit after three weeks. No explanation. Then Mom had Violet, and Agatha was her nanny until Violet went to school. Agatha bartended at night usually.” Lucy shifted her ingredients around.

“What are we talking about?” Harper interrupted as she came into the room, carrying more food.

“Just telling Chris about Agatha and art school,” Lucy told her sister.

“I don’t remember her going to art school,” Harper said.

“You were in France. It only lasted a few weeks. Then she was home,” Lucy said.

“See? I missed too much being over there,” Harper complained.

“Did Agatha say why she didn’t go to graduation?” he asked innocently.

“Nope, but that does sound like Agatha to quit school with only a week to go. They had to mail her a diploma,” Lucy said with a laugh.

“You’re right,” said Harper. “I didn’t come home for her graduation. I came home when Violet was born.” She laughed at her sister’s antics.

“Did Agatha miscarry the day Violet was born?” Violet’s story had bothered him for weeks now, and he had to ask.

“What?” Lucy turned to him in shock.

“No!” Harper stated. “Who told you that?”

“Violet said something about it. It seemed so real the way she talked about the baby,” Chris stated. Her conviction was what had made him feel it was true.

“Violet is nine and has no idea what a miscarriage is. Also, if it happened the day she was born, she would have no clue,” Lucy stated.

“That’s what I was hoping. I didn’t want Agatha to have gone through that,” he answered with relief. Lucy was right; Violet would have no idea, and there was no way Agatha was pregnant nine years ago. He knew her nine years ago.

“What did Violet say?” Harper grabbed a towel and wiped her hands as she rounded the island and sat on a stool farthest from his.

“Nothing really. Just that her invisible friend is Agatha’s baby and that she was mad her mom told her about Poppy in front of him because he disappeared.”

“I think she made it all up,” Harper stated. “Kids tell stories.”

“I hope so,” Chris said.

The room fell silent, and Harper got back up to help her sister. Within minutes they were discussing the event they were planning the next day, forgetting that he was even there. He let them and just listened for any word of Agatha, but there were none.

Not wanting to be in the way, he said goodbye and reminded them that he wanted to talk to Agatha. Both said they would say something to her, but he didn’t know them well enough to know if they would or not.

It was two hours later that he remembered the valentine. Running upstairs, he grabbed it and took it across the street. Both sisters were sitting in the living room watching TV, not cooking at all anymore. But the house smelled like chocolate and lemon. It was heavenly.

“Can one of you do me a favor?” he asked. He hadn’t knocked, and they hadn’t cared.

“What?” Lucy tipped her head back and looked up at him like an annoyed sister would.

“Can you give Agatha this? But tell her that I want it back one day. No burning it, no throwing it, no ripping it up,” he said.

Lucy sat up and looked at him.

“We’re mean people, but not that mean. What is it?” Harper asked.

Handing the card to them, he watched them both look at it and then at him. “You kept this?”

“Yes, she made it. It’s special. Nobody had given me a handmade valentine before.”

“We’ll get it back to you,” Lucy swore and wiped a tear from her eye.

“Thank you. I know she thinks I don’t remember her, but I do. I remember so much. I just want to tell her,” he said and walked away. All he could do was hope that they passed the message on to their sister.

He was quickly running out of options on getting her back. If her sisters wouldn’t help, he knew he had no chance with her. Once his house was complete, he would have no reason to stay and wait for her. Time would be up.