Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

“Thanks for being such a good lunch date,” Janice said.

“It was my pleasure,” I said. “And I’ll tell Graham to give you a call or something. Or you could come over for dinner.”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up, but that does sound nice. Thanks, Chloe.”

I smiled and said bye, and as I left, I decided that maybe Graham’s mother didn’t dislike me, after all.

*****

I drove back to the art center, but when I got there, I sat out in the parking lot, phone in my hand. Janice was right; I just needed to call my mother and at least say “hi.” Ask how she was doing. The worst she could do was hang up on me, and I didn’t think she would do something like that, if for no other reason than she wouldn’t think it was good manners.

I scrolled through my recent calls list until I came to her name. Mom. I stared at the three letters, stalling, and then I touched the screen. The phone rang, once, then twice, and then she picked up.

“Chloe?”

“Hi, Mom. Is now a good time to talk?”

“Of course it is! I’ve been wanting to call you but I just haven’t. It’s not because I haven’t been thinking about you. I ran into Melanie the other day and she said that you’d been staying at her house, but that she hadn’t seen you the past couple of days. I assume that everything is okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I’ve been really worried. I know that you’re an adult and everything, Chloe, but I just hated the way everything happened with your father that night. I wasn’t expecting him to say that at all. I thought we were just going to have another talk with you. Let you know how we felt about Graham.”

“But how can you say that, Mom? You were just telling me before that that you thought he was nice. That you wanted to see him again.”

“What I really want is for everyone to get along. I don’t want there to be fighting, and I don’t like conflict. I want you to be happy. You know that, don’t you? I hate this, I don’t want things to be this way. It’s summer! We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves, not fighting! And I’ve missed you,” my mother said. She sniffed, and I could tell she was crying.

“I miss you too, Mom.”

“I’d like to see you. And you know what? I don’t care what your father says; I’m not going to spend the rest of the summer exiling you. I want to see Graham, too. If he is someone that you like, and he treats you well, then yes, I want to give him a chance. Why don’t the two of you come with me to the yacht club tomorrow? You don’t have to stay all day; we could just do lunch, if you wanted.”

I hesitated. “I would be more than happy to do that, but is that a good idea?” When my father wasn’t golfing, he could usually be found at the yacht club, and I didn’t know how well it would go over if he happened to see the three of us there. I didn’t want to fight anymore, either, but I also didn’t want to make things worse between him and my mother.

“Don’t worry; your father will be gone all day. He and a few friends are going to golf on Nantucket for the day. Please, sweetie? I’d really like to see you, and I’d like it if you brought Graham along. I mean it.”

It felt weird to be making plans like this, as though we were both sneaking around behind my father’s back. But my mom was inviting not just me, but Graham, too. She wanted to see us both. And I didn’t really feel like going to the yacht club, but that was her comfort zone and maybe she’d feel more at ease there.

“Sure,” I said. “We can do that.”

“Okay, great. I am so glad you called me. Why don’t we plan on meeting there tomorrow around noon? Does that work?”

“Noon sounds good,” I said. “We’ll see you then.”

“I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you, too.”

After we hung up, I sat there in the car for a few more minutes. The call had actually gone better than I’d thought it would have, and now, I could only hope that tomorrow would go smoothly, too. First, though, I’d have to convince Graham that he wanted to go.

*****

I was pleased with the amount of progress I’d made on my sculpture when I finally left the art center for the day. I was also glad that I’d listened to Janice’s advice and called my mother.

Graham had sent me a text and said he’d be home earlier than he thought since one of his appointments had rescheduled, so I decided to stop at the grocery store and pick something up to make for dinner. My culinary skills wouldn’t win me any awards or anything, but Alicia had showed me once how to make clams and linguine, which was simple to make but tasted exquisite.

When Graham got home, I was just draining the pasta.

“Whoa,” he said as he walked in. “Something smells good.”