Jill Weatherholt - Second Chance Romance

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An hour later, Jackson leaned back in his chair. He placed his hand on his stomach and rubbed in a circular motion. “Every time you make fried chicken, Phoebe, it’s crispier than the last batch.” He picked up his napkin and placed it to his lips. A quick look at Melanie’s plate proved what she’d said yesterday. She wasn’t a big eater. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Melanie? You’ve hardly touched your meal.”

She fingered her necklace. “I don’t have much of an appetite. Maybe it’s from the pain medication I’ve been taking.”

Phoebe picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes and scooped a heaping spoonful. “These always taste good to me when I have an upset stomach.”

Melanie nodded and held out her plate. Jackson watched while she picked at her food like a child. Finally she tried the mashed potatoes. “These are delicious.”

“So, Phoebe tells me you’re a divorce attorney. Sounds like interesting work.” Jackson snatched a pinch of corn bread and popped it into his mouth. “I’m sure it’s never dull.”

“My mommy and daddy got divorced,” Rebecca announced. “I don’t remember her. She left when I was really little.” She quickly looked down. “I’m sorry.”

Jackson observed Melanie place her hand on top of Rebecca’s hand. “It’s okay. You can talk about your mommy if you want to.”

He nodded when Rebecca looked at him for confirmation. “She had really dark hair, kind of like yours, but shorter. I have a picture of her on my nightstand. You can come see it sometime if you want to.” She smiled. “Daddy said she liked to dance, and she was a good singer, too.” She tucked a stray curl that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. “I think she left us to become famous.” Staring out the window, she placed her fist underneath her chin and tilted her head. “I think she’ll come back for me...for both of us, someday.”

Jackson’s heart ached for his daughter. The anger toward his ex-wife boiled to the surface every so often. Would the scars ever heal? Rebecca missed her, but it was a blessing she was too young to have witnessed her mother’s behavior. He’d rather she have good thoughts of her than remember the way things really were.

“Okay, who’s ready for a big hunk of Phoebe’s chocolate sour cream layer cake?” He looked at Melanie, and then Phoebe, and saw that both were wiping away tears.

Thankfully Rebecca hadn’t noticed how emotional the ladies had become. She sprang from her chair at the mention of the dessert. “I’ll get the plates and forks,” she yelled and ran toward the kitchen.

Phoebe cleared her throat. “I think I’ll go help.” She turned and shot a wink at Melanie. “I only allow one disaster a day in my kitchen.”

When her aunt left the room, Melanie turned to Jackson. “I wouldn’t call a broken vase a disaster.”

“She was only joking,” he said. “What happened in the kitchen earlier could have happened to anyone.” He sipped his iced tea. “I’m sorry if Rebecca upset you.”

The silence was deafening. Melanie played with the condensation on her glass. He studied her face and wished he could take away the sadness.

She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “Your daughter is so sweet. Nothing she says could upset me. I guess I’m still rattled from the accident.”

Obviously she wasn’t going to share what really bothered her. He understood. They’d just met, and opening up to someone required trust, something he’d definitely lacked the past several years. “Jackson, I’m sorry about your wife. I’m sure it’s been difficult on you and Rebecca.”

He shrugged his shoulders, not ready to share, either. Yes, she was Phoebe’s niece, but he knew nothing about her. Less than twenty-four hours ago, their lives were separate from each other. Now, after an accident, their worlds had merged. But could he ever trust a woman who obviously didn’t put family first? She never visited her aunt though she lived only a couple of hours away. He wasn’t ready to confide in her, or any woman, for that matter.

“Rebecca and I get along fine.” He drained the last of his iced tea and reached for the pitcher. “Would you like some more?”

She shook her head.

Jackson filled his glass. “So, what prompted you finally to make a trip to see Phoebe? From what I understand, she’s been trying to get you to the valley for years. Too busy with your hotshot career, I suppose?”

She lifted her chin, and a moment passed before she spoke. “Like I mentioned yesterday at the hospital, I’ve come to convince Aunt Phoebe to move back to DC with me.” She held her shoulders straight, like a soldier in formation. “She’s getting older. It’s time she had family nearby.”

Jackson’s spine stiffened. “I didn’t think you were serious. Phoebe’s life is here.” His heart raced at the thought of Phoebe moving.

Melanie tapped her finger against her empty glass. “I’m her only family, Jackson. She belongs with me.” Her eyes kept a strong hold on his. “You asked what brought me here, and I told you. Can we please drop this conversation? I don’t want her to hear us. She needs time to adjust to the idea.”

“She won’t adjust,” he snapped. “Besides, she has family here—Rebecca and me.”

“You’re not blood, Jackson.”

“You don’t need the same blood in order to be family. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t take her away from the only life she knows and loves.” He bolted from the chair. It screeched along the hardwood floor.

“What in the world is going on out here?” Phoebe stood in the doorway with both hands on her hips.

“Melanie was just telling me a little more about your move.” He eyed Melanie, waiting for her to pounce.

Phoebe laughed. “We’ve discussed it already. I’m not moving and that’s final.”

“You haven’t had enough time to make a final decision.” Melanie walked toward her aunt and reached out for her hand.

Ignoring the extended hand, Phoebe paced the dining-room floor. “I don’t need more time.” She picked up her glass of water and took two long swigs. “What on earth has put such a crazy idea into your head? It needs to stop—now.”

Jackson took notice of Phoebe’s complexion. She looked pale, and tiny beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. “Are you okay, Phoebe?”

She yanked a tissue from her apron pocket and blotted her forehead. “It’s just a little warm in here from the oven. I’m fine.” She slipped the tissue back into her pocket. “So, what do you think about Melanie’s plan, Jackson?”

He shook his head. “I think it’s a bad one. Your life is here with the people who love you.”

“I agree. And I won’t discuss this any further,” Phoebe announced.

“Wait, please,” Melanie said. “I’m not trying to ruin your life. I love you, and I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I’m staying put...end of discussion.” Phoebe turned and headed back to the kitchen.

Jackson ran his hand down the front of his face, relieved the conversation was over, at least for now.

Melanie, on the other hand, did not look pleased.

“Daddy, come quick!” Rebecca’s scream had him sprinting toward the kitchen like a jackrabbit.

He burst through the door and saw Phoebe lying on the floor.

Melanie entered the kitchen and gasped. “Jackson, help her.” She raced to her aunt’s side. “What’s happening?”

Jackson heard Phoebe’s garbled speech and noticed the side of her mouth was drooping. “She’s having a stroke. I’ve got to get her to the hospital. Now!”

Melanie gripped his wrist. “Shouldn’t we call for the ambulance?”

He shook his head. “No, we can’t wait.” He scooped Phoebe’s tiny frame into his arms and headed toward the door. “You take Rebecca in your car. Don’t try to keep up. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”