Take a Chance on Me

“What time should I be there?” Amanda asked Bette, breaking the silence.

“What time do you finish today?”

“My last client is at five today, and it’s just a cut and style, so I should be free by six if I let Emily close.”

“Let Emily close for you and come to the house. I’ll plan on serving dinner for six thirty. Tyler’s a man, and men like to eat early.”

Amanda choked on smothered laughter. “Did he say that?”

“No, but I know. Men get so grumpy if they don’t eat at a decent hour.” And then Bette was saying her goodbyes and bustling out.

“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Eileen said, as the salon door closed behind Bette. “Always cheerful, always taking care of others.”

“You’ve known her a long time.”

“Oh, at least fifty years. Her son, Patrick, and my boys grew up together. They met in elementary school and then went onto middle school and high school together, although back then, the middle school and high school were all part of the same building. She never had an easy time of it, though. Her husband was hard on her and their son. Everyone knew it. He was quite the disciplinarian, but what do you expect? He was former military, a retired lieutenant colonel, and he ran the house as if he was still in the army. I used to complain about Howard being bossy but Howard was a pussy cat compared to Don, and Howard had his faults, but he would never have tried to dictate to our children who they could date.”

“Don did that?”

“It was Don’s way or the highway.”

“That’s why Patrick left,” Amanda said.

Eileen nodded. “And never returned.”

Dinner at Bette’s had become a weekly tradition, and Tyler usually opened a bottle of good wine, but tonight instead of wine, champagne was chilling on ice.

“Champagne?” Amanda said, surprised to see the silver ice bucket on the dining room table, along with the trio of flutes. “What’s happened? What are we celebrating?”

“Lots of things,” he said, popping the cork, and filling the flutes.

He handed her a glass and he carried two into the kitchen where Bette was bustling around, and humming brightly, reminding Amanda of Snow White.

“I have some news,” he said, giving his grandmother a flute, and then facing both. “On Monday, I report to Sheenan Media, although I’m not entirely sure where I’m actually working, but I met with Cormac today, and he’s bringing me on.”

“That is fantastic news,” Bette cried.

“Champagne worthy indeed,” Amanda added, smiling, clinking glasses with him and then his grandmother. “Why didn’t you call me earlier, and tell me?”

“Because I wanted to be with you when I told you, and I wanted to thank you for always looking out for me, even when I don’t know you are.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I didn’t realize you were supposed to introduce me to Cormac at the St. Patrick’s Day Ball.”

“I tried.”

“I know you did.”

“But honestly, I’m glad you didn’t let me. It’s better this way. It’s all you.”

They smiled at each other for a moment. “Does this mean you might be staying awhile?” Amanda asked softly.

“It means I’m going to look for a house.”

Bette straightened from peeking into the oven, quilted orange hot mitts on her hands. “What? You’re leaving me already?”

“I’m going to try to find something in the neighborhood. That way I can walk over for lunch and dinner and dessert.”

“Not lunch,” she protested. “I don’t like fixing lunch. But dinner, and dessert, definitely. And speaking of dinner, I can’t get anything done with you two underfoot. Take your bubbly and go into the living room. I’ve put some yearbooks on the coffee table. I thought you two would get a kick out of seeing your parents when they were back in high school.”

Tyler and Amanda looked at each other.

Tyler lifted a brow.

“Our parents?” Amanda said, clarifying Bette’s comment.

“Yes, your parents. They were just a year apart. Tyler’s dad, Patrick, was a year older than your mom, Mandy.”

“How do you remember that?” Amanda asked.

“I only had one child,” she answered, turning back to the stove to stir something in a saucepan. “Look them up in the index and you’ll be able to find them quickly.”

As Tyler and Amanda headed to the living room, Tyler grabbed the bottle of champagne and topped off their glasses.

“They must have known each other then,” Amanda said, sitting down on the living room couch and setting her flute on the coffee table so she could reach for the yearbook in front of her. “It’s not a big high school.”

Tyler sat down next to Amanda, and for the next few minutes, they went from the index to a photo, and then the index, to another, and it wasn’t long before it became apparent that Patrick Justice and Julie Scranton didn’t just know each other, they were dating each other. Amanda poured over the yearbooks and the photos and the captions and she discovered that it was a relationship that spanned years.

Tyler was shocked.

He couldn’t stop staring at the photo of his dad sitting on a picnic table next to a beautiful blonde girl that looked almost exactly like Amanda. His arm was behind her and she was smiling up at his dad with clear affection. They were a striking couple, both handsome. His dad was the confident one though. Amanda’s mom looked sweet, but rather shy.

Tyler glanced at Amanda and discovered she had tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never seen her look like this. I’ve never known her like this. She’s so young here, and so pretty.”

“My dad was a senior, and she was a junior, which meant she was what? Sixteen or seventeen?”

Amanda nodded. “They dated.”

“For years.”

“I had no idea she’d ever dated anyone but my dad.” She blinked and tears fell. Amanda reached up and dashed them away.

“I knew your mom then.” It was Bette in the doorway, her frilly apron tied over her dress, a spatula in her hand. “Used to have her over to the house all the time.”

“Here? To this house?”

Bette nodded. “She was every bit as sweet as she looked. I liked her enormously. And I know she cared about me. She said I was like a mom to her.”

“I don’t understand,” Tyler said. “Any of this.”

“Neither do I,” Amanda added unsteadily.

Bette sighed. “It’s a long story, but there’s a short version, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Tyler muttered.

“Your dad, Tyler, fell in love with Mandy’s mom almost right away.”

“Let me guess, he was the quarterback and she was a cheerleader.”

“Almost. He was the quarterback, but she wasn’t a cheerleader. She couldn’t afford the fees. Her family didn’t have a lot of money.”

Tyler heard Amanda’s soft, sharp inhale and he reached for her hand, his fingers lacing with hers.

“They were very sweet together, your dad and Julie, but your grandfather didn’t approve of the relationship. He didn’t—admire—Julie’s family, troubled by her family’s history here in the valley, and he worried Julie would deliberately get pregnant, trapping your dad into marriage, so he put an end to the relationship.” She shot Amanda a troubled glance before looking at Tyler. “It’s what drove your dad from Montana, and it’s why he never introduced Wendy, your mom, to him. Not until the day of the wedding.”

“And Amanda’s mom?” Tyler said gruffly. “What happened to her?”

“She met my dad,” Amanda answered in a small voice. “And had three daughters with him.”

For a moment there was just silence, and then Bette stirred. “I need to check my chicken,” she said, turning around and returning to the kitchen.

Again, there was silence. Tyler didn’t know what to say. The room felt thick with emotion, and he could f

eel Amanda’s hand tremble in his. He tightened his fingers, pressing his palm to hers, holding her hand more closely.

“What are you thinking?” he asked after a long moment.

She just shook her head, the tears still there in her eyes, making them shine. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“What does that mean?”