Second Chances: A Magical Holiday Romance Page 8

  “Why not?” he asked, reaching for her. “My mom’s happy to keep the kids. You know that.”

  “You really don’t remember, do you?” Kenzie’s face was flushed, her eyes flashing. Carter suddenly realized that what he’d identified as nerves, was in fact, anger.

  She was furious.

  And he had absolutely no idea why.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his stomach sinking. “Remember what?”

  Kenzie pushed her hair back from her face before letting her arms fall to her sides in defeat. “The writing seminar, Carter? I’ve only been talking about it for months.”

  Carter opened his mouth, but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say.

  “God, Carter,” she said with something close to disgust. “It was one day—one day. All I asked was for you to watch the kids so I could go to this seminar. You know how important this is to me!”

  “Well,” Carter floundered. “You can still go. We’ll head home first thing in the morning.”

  “It’s in Portland, Carter!” she countered. “I was going to have to get up at five in the morning to drive down. I could have left from here if we’d brought the car, but that’s not even the point.”

  “Well, what is the point?” he replied, feeling a surge of his own anger. He was only trying to create a romantic evening, and all she could give him was a load of grief.

  “The point, Carter,” she said through gritted teeth, “is that you didn’t even remember. You made all of these plans and now I’m a horrible person for ruining them.”

  “You’re not a horrible person.”

  “Well, I feel like one,” she said angrily. “I feel like I’m supposed to forget about the seminar and tell you it’s not a big deal. Yet again, what I want . . . what I need is disregarded. What’s important to me doesn’t even matter to you!”

  “That’s not true.” Carter stuck his chin out stubbornly.

  “No?” Kenzie retorted. “What about U-Dub?”

  “What?”

  Kenzie rolled her eyes. “I was ten credits and a thesis away from my Master’s . . . ten credits, Carter.”

  “So? That’s my fault?” he countered, getting frustrated at her attitude, despite the fact that he didn’t even know what she was talking about.

  “No, it’s not your fault,” she said sarcastically. “But you didn’t exactly make it easy for me to go back and finish.”

  “You could have done it if you really wanted to.” He crossed his arms over his chest, unsure if he was correct, but too swept up in the argument to care.

  “How, Carter?” she replied, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “With two kids? With a mortgage and a car payment? With you off chasing your dream of starting your own paper?”

  “My dream?” Carter repeated with a choked laugh. “You think a weekly paper in Woodlawn is my dream? Yeah, right, Kenzie, because covering Walmart openings and the local elementary school Christmas pageant is the height of investigative journalism!”

  “Oh, so it all comes back to this again.”

  “To what?”

  “To what?” She threw her hands up, then scrubbed them over her face in frustration. “To New York, that’s what. You’ve never forgiven me for missing that internship.”

  “I . . . I what?” Carter pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes clenched tight. How was he supposed to argue that point when he had no idea if it was true? He couldn’t imagine resenting Kenzie for not taking the internship. Of course, he really didn’t understand why he didn’t take it in the first place.

  “I should have gone,” he said quietly.

  “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “If I would have gone, I would have had a better job. I could have provided for you and the kids better. You would have been able to finish your Master’s.”

  “Kids? There wouldn’t have been any kids, Carter. You would have been in New York and I would have been here. We decided together that you’d stay here and take the job at the Times. You said you wanted to be with me.”

  “I do want to be with you,” he said.

  “Then why do you keep throwing that decision back in my face?”

  “Why do you keep bringing up your Master’s?”

  Kenzie paused, breathing heavily for a moment before she collapsed on the lavish sofa, her face falling into her hands. “I can’t keep doing this,” she said in a near whisper.

  Carter rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension there. He approached Kenzie, all anger gone, and fell to his knees in front of her.

  “I’m sorry, Kenzie.”

  “You’re always sorry, Carter. I’m sorry, too.” She sat back eyeing him steadily. “How did we get here? Resenting each other . . . ignoring each other?”

  Carter reached tentatively for her hand and stroked the back of it gently. “I don’t know. We can get back, though, can’t we? Can’t we at least try?”

  Kenzie smiled sadly at him, but said nothing.

  They rented a car and drove home in silence, without even the radio to bridge the gap between them. Exhausted, Kenzie fell asleep curled up against the back of the seat, her soft breaths a counter-rhythm to the monotonous drone of tires on pavement. Carter glanced at her often as he maneuvered the nearly empty highway, wishing he could find some answers.

  His romantic night had turned into a disaster, and he had no idea how to fix it. The ten years they’d been together—the ten years he’d missed—had somehow damaged what they’d once had.

  Still . . . it wasn’t dead.

  Carter knew he was still in love with Kenzie. He had no doubt of it. And deep down, he knew that Kenzie still loved him, too.

  She was hurt, angry, and frustrated, but she still loved him.

  He would have to find a way to make it up to her. A way to show her they still had a chance. He just had no idea exactly how to do it.

  “I thought I knew what I was doing, but I had no clue,” Carter told Noah once they’d dropped off the rental car in Manaskat. Kenzie had left early in the morning to head to Portland for her writing seminar, leaving Carter with the kids and a Volvo that had to be back at the car rental place by noon. Noah had agreed to drive Carter’s car so he’d have a way home. They’d stopped by Macon’s garage before they left Woodlawn, and he’d given Carter a good deal on a new battery, so he was hopeful he could avoid jumper cables for a while.

  The kids had spotted the famous Golden Arches, prompting a stop at McDonald’s to play in the tubes, slides, and ball pit in between bites of Chicken McNuggets and fries.

  “It was going so well,” Carter continued, eyeing Brady as he dipped a nugget in some ketchup. “Then I ended up on the couch. Again.”

  “Ouch.” Noah winced. “So, all that build up and you didn’t even get to have . . .” He glanced at the kids. “ . . . uh . . . pillows?” he said significantly, evidently trying to speak in code to avoid uncomfortable questions.

  Carter laughed humorlessly, munching on a French fry. “Nope. No pillows for me. Not even a little one.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve had . . . a pillow?” Noah asked.

  “I can’t even remember,” Carter said honestly.

  Brady smiled brightly. “You can use my pillow, Daddy. I have two!”

  Carter smiled, ruffling his son’s hair. “Thanks, buddy.”

  “I’m done,” Brady announced. “Can I go play some more?”

  Carter nodded. “Watch out for Peyton, okay?”

  “I will,” he said, taking his little sister’s hand and leading her to the ball pit. Carter’s eyes never left them, a paternal protectiveness he never knew he possessed taking over. He spoke to Noah, but didn’t look away from his children.

  “I just don’t know what she wants,” he admitted to his brother-in-law. “I thought if I took her out for a night on the town . . . showed her how important she was to me, it would be enough, but . . .” He shrugged, draggin a fry listlessly through a blob of ketchup.

 
“That’s rough, man,” Noah said through a mouthful of burger. He swallowed and took a sip of his Coke. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m not sure,” Carter replied, picking at the bun on his own burger and half-smiling as Brady gently tossed a red ball to Peyton. “Maybe I should get her something pretty. Women like jewelry, right?”

  Noah laughed. “If my wife is any indication, I’d say yes, women like jewelry.” He sobered slightly. “But I don’t know if that’s what the situation calls for, Carter. Kenzie’s not really one for fancy things.”

  “But she should be,” Carter countered. “She should have every beautiful thing. And I should be the one to give them to her.”

  “Well, it’s worth a try, I guess,” Noah said doubtfully. “But I don’t know that throwing money at the problem is really the solution.”

  “It’s not about throwing money at it,” Carter replied stubbornly. “It’s about showing Kenzie how special she is.”

  Noah shrugged and wished his friend luck.

  They dropped Noah off at his parents’ house on the north side of town. He said Lydia would meet him there later, and he’d ride home with her. Carter and the kids set out to find a jewelry store that sold more than turquoise and friendship bracelets. They finally found a little shop squeezed between a bookstore and a specialty tea shop that looked promising.

  With a firm admonishment not to touch anything, Carter walked into the store, holding his children’s hands tightly in each of his own.

  “Can I help you find something?” An older woman wearing a sequined snowman sweater popped up from behind the counter. She smiled down at Brady and Peyton. “Oh, what adorable children!” she exclaimed. “Would you two like a candy cane?”

  The kids looked up at Carter for permission before nodding slowly. The woman bent down to hand them each a little candy cane and touched their cheeks gently. “So much like my own grandchildren,” she mused. “Don’t get to see them much since my son and his family moved to Phoenix.” She sighed heavily, then shook her head.

  “Enough about me,” she said, standing up quickly. “What can I help you with today?”

  Carter winced slightly. “I’m not exactly sure. I’d like to find something for my wife.”

  The woman chuckled. “In the doghouse, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  Brady tugged on his father’s sleeve, pulling out his candy cane to whisper. “Daddy, we don’t have a doghouse.”

  The saleslady burst out laughing. “Oh, he’s a cute one!” she said, touching his cheek again. “Say, what’s your name?”

  “Brady.”

  “And your sister?”

  “Peyton.”

  “Well, Brady, if it’s okay with your daddy, I have a few toys back behind the counter over there.” She pointed to where she’d been standing when they walked in. “You can take Peyton over there to play while I help your daddy find a present for your mom.”

  Once again, Brady looked up at Carter for permission. Carter didn’t understand the warm swelling he felt in his heart at the boy’s hopeful gaze.

  “It’s okay. Go ahead,” Carter encouraged him. Brady took his sister’s hand and led her behind the counter. He could see them pull a couple of little trucks from a basket of toys and begin running them along the floor.

  “Thanks,” Carter said, “Mrs. . . .”

  The woman waved a hand. “Oh, just call me Gwen,” she said.

  “I’m Carter.”

  “Fine . . . fine, Carter,” Gwen said cheerfully. “Now, you want something for your lovely wife. Maybe a necklace . . . or a nice bracelet?”

  Carter’s eyes ran over the glittering pieces nestled in black velvet under glass. “I think . . . something simple?” he said, more as a question than a statement.

  Gwen nodded, tapping her fingers against her lips as she thought. She rounded the counter, unlocked a sliding panel, and pulled out one of the velvet trays. She picked up a silver bracelet made up of delicate links. A heart-shaped charm dangled from the chain, glinting in the dim light.

  “We can engrave her name on the charm while you wait,” Gwen told him. “We could even set the heart with the children’s birthstones if you’d like . . . make it a little more special. That would take a few hours, though.”

  “Really?” Carter asked, reaching out to touch the little silver charm. “How much?”

  Gwen told him, and after only a brief hesitation, Carter nodded, reaching for his wallet and his now well-used credit card. He wondered what his limit was and once again held his breath while she ran it through, only releasing it when she handed the sales slip for him to sign.

  “Now,” she said, handing him a receipt. “Which birthstones do you need?”

  Carter blanched. He had absolutely no idea. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

  Gwen laughed. “Oh, most men don’t,” she said. “Just give me their birthdays and I can figure it out.”

  Crap. How could he explain to this woman that he didn’t know his own children’s birthdays? Yeah. That’d get him nominated for Father of the Year for sure.

  Brady chose that moment to approach, reaching for his father’s hand. Carter leaned down to pick him up, seeing an opportunity to redeem himself, or at least cover his ignorance.

  “Brady,” he said. “Can you tell the nice lady your birthday?”

  Brady smiled. “I’m gonna be seven!”

  “That’s lovely,” Gwen replied, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “When’s your birthday?”

  “February eighth,” he said proudly, stumbling slightly over the pronunciation of “February.”

  “February,” Gwen repeated. “That’s amethyst. What about your sister?”

  Brady frowned. “I don’t know.”

  Carter’s stomach fell. Quickly, he reached in his pocket. “My phone,” he said apologetically, hoping the woman believed he had it on vibrate. “I’ll just be a second.”

  Gwen nodded as Carter set Brady on the floor by his sister and the little boy went back to playing with trucks. Carter said hello like he was answering the phone, and when Gwen looked away, he quickly dialed Noah’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “Noah,” Carter whispered, walking to the far end of the store. “When’s Peyton’s birthday?”

  “Carter?”

  Carter rolled his eyes. “Yes . . . yes, it’s Carter. I need your help.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to know Peyton’s birthday.”

  “You don’t remember her birthday?” Noah asked, his voice laced with confusion.

  Carter sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose and fighting to speak quietly. “Please, Noah . . . just . . . humor me, okay?”

  “Carter, what is wrong with you?”

  “Noah!” Carter shouted into the phone, and catching Gwen’s surprised expression, quickly forced a smile and lowered his voice. “Help me out here.”

  “Okay . . . okay,” Noah replied. “It’s April fourteenth. Carter, are you sure you’re okay?”

  Carter released a heavy breath. “I don’t know, man.”

  “Can I help?”

  “You just did,” he said. “Seriously. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Sure,” Noah said, huffing slightly. “If you ever decide to tell me what’s going on, I’ll be around.”

  “I know, man,” Carter replied quietly. “I’m just . . . dealing with some stuff. Really. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, evidently not buying it.

  “Bye, Noah . . . and thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  Carter hung up the phone and walked back over to add a little diamond to Kenzie’s bracelet.

  “I have something for you,” Carter said enthusiastically when Kenzie walked in the door. It was late and the kids were in bed, but he was so excited about his gift he couldn’t sleep. He waited in the living room, listening for the sound of the minivan pulling into the drive
way. When he finally heard it, he was nearly vibrating with excitement. He felt confident that his thoughtful gift would get him back in Kenzie’s good graces.

  Kenzie yawned in the entryway, tugging her coat from her shoulders tiredly. “Something for me?”

  Carter jumped up to help her with her coat. “You look exhausted,” he said. “How was the seminar?”

  Kenzie smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Apparently their argument from the night before hadn’t been forgotten. “It was great,” she said quietly. “Jackson McKay is an amazing writer, and I learned a lot from him. He’s actually going to be teaching a writing class in Manaskat that starts in a couple of weeks. He suggested I take it.” She watched Carter closely, gauging his reaction.

  Carter smiled at her. “That’s fantastic. I think you should do it.”

  “You do?”

  Carter felt mystified and a little ashamed at the shock in her voice. Did she really think he’d fight her on this? Obviously, in the past he would have. He found himself growing increasingly irritated with his alter ego.

  What a jerk.

  “You didn’t even ask how much it would cost,” she said.

  “We’ll make it work.” Carter shrugged.

  “It’ll be two nights a week for a month,” she added. “I’d drive up right after work and you’d have to handle the kids . . . dinner . . . baths . . . bed . . . all of it.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Wow,” Kenzie said, a smile lighting her face. “Who are you, and what have you done with Carter?”

  Carter laughed, pulling her to the couch. “I just want you to know that I support you in whatever you do,” he said earnestly. “I love you, Kenzie. I’m sorry about last night. About everything.”

  Kenzie felt tears prick her eyes. “I’m sorry, too.”

  Carter picked up the gift wrapped box from where it lay on the coffee table. “I got this for you today,” he said. “I want you to know how important you are to me, Kenzie. I know I haven’t shown it much lately, but things have really changed. I’ve changed. I want . . . I need for you to understand that things will be different from now on.”

  He handed her the little box, and she took it slowly, running her fingers over the gold ribbon. “It’s so pretty,” she said quietly.