The Second Chance

Chapter One For the second time in my life, I was leaving behind a place I loved. Boston had been my home for eight long years, and I thought I’d live there for many more. The culture, the nightlife, even the smell of the city was imprinted on me. And also ruined for me. I wiped away tears that refused to quit falling and gripped my steering wheel tighter. Harper Chapman was nothing but a joke in Boston now. The girl who’d gotten in over her head, trusted the wrong man, and had everything swept out from under her feet. That was me. The reporter no one took seriously anymore. All because of him. And the worst part was I’d loved him. I wouldn’t have married him otherwise. Now, everything I owned was stuffed into my little Honda, a car neither my ex-husband nor my parents approved of. Well, none of them had a say now, did they? I could still hear my mother’s voice in my head when I told her about Garret’s affair. “Well, men will be men, honey. Learn to look the other way.” Divorce was a dirty word in my family’s elite Boston circle. Infidelity was a habit. Men had needs, as my mother put it. So do I, Mom. I needed something different from the life they’d pushed me into. I loved my job, adored it, really. I’d spent my entire life wanting to be a reporter. My father’s connections got me my first job after college, and everyone knew it, but I was still good at it. Until they hired him. The moment one of Boston’s most famous reporters came to manage the Boston Globe, I’d felt incompetent in his presence. Twenty years my senior, he was distinguished, dignified. And I fell head over heels for him. The sound of my phone ringing snapped me from my daze. Keeping my eyes on the road, I tapped the screen on my stereo without looking at the name. “Harper Chapman here.” “You’ve already changed your name back?” Garret said, his voice sliding over me with warmth, the way it always had. I shook off the feeling. “Seemed appropriate.” My hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly. His sigh came through the speaker. “I wish you’d rethink your resignation.” We already had this discussion before I left. “I’m sorry if I no longer take your wishes into account.” “Harper.” His tone when he said my name was condescending, exasperated. “Don’t be like this.” “Like what, Garret? Like the scorned wife who found you in your office kissing another woman? Don’t be like that?” “I thought we talked about this.” “We did. And I decided it was best to remove myself from the situation until I could sit in the same office with my boss without wanting to punch him in the face.” The jerk chuckled. “I always liked that fire in you.” I knew he did. He said it was what drew him to me in the beginning. But those memories needed to be locked away. “I’m not coming back to work.” That was what he really wanted. I doubt he was broken up about the divorce, but I was the paper’s top human-interest reporter, garnering the most online reads for six months running, even with the awful stories he assigned me. He needed me. Too bad I no longer cared. “At least tell me where you are.” Superiore Bay came into view, its familiar downtown shops bringing me back to a million years ago. “Goodbye, Garret.” I hung up before he could say anything else. Driving into this town was like traveling back in time to when everything was simple, everything was easy. To when I spent summers with the one family member who’d ever understood me, who’d ever cared to try. And the two best friends I’d ever had. Over the years, I tried to forget those summers. I got busy with college and internships and then my career. My grandmother visited Boston for Christmases, but I didn’t visit her like I used to. Now that I was coming back, I knew it would mean seeing other people who were best left in the past. It was early afternoon as I drove along the boulevard, passing restaurants that held my memories. The Rusty Spoon was packed with the late lunch crowd. Hugga Mugga, the coffee shop I loved to people watch in, was as busy as ever. Townspeople walked across the square, stopping to chat, waving to each other. It was so very different from the city. I’d almost forgotten how much. I pulled up outside a light blue, two-story home with a wrap-around front porch. Tears burned my eyes, but this time, they weren’t for everything I’d left behind. No house had ever felt like home except the one before me now. This was where I spent hours with my best friend, Lena, lying on the perfectly manicured front lawn, staring up into blue skies. I hesitated before stepping out of my car. My fingertips drifted along the white wooden fence with chipped paint, and I pictured Carter Ashford painting it one summer, sweat dripping down his bare chest. I’d thought he was the most beautiful boy in the world. I’d thought I loved him. Me, him, and Lena were a unit. For three months every year, they let me into their friendship. And then, I left them behind. I chose a life that didn’t include them. The front door opened, and all the breath rushed out of me at the sight of my grandma coming down the steps. She swept me into her arms and squeezed. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.” I hugged her back, finally letting myself relax. “Everything was packed, so there was no reason to wait.” She leaned back, keeping her hands on my shoulders. “Let me look at you.” A smile curved her lips. “You look liberated.” Leave it to Grandma. I knew how I must really look. Tear-stained cheeks, red eyes. I looked sad. And tired. But she wouldn’t see that, not her. “Come inside out of this heat. We’ll get your things later.” In Boston, I’d never have left anything in my car, but here in Superiore Bay, I knew it was safe. I was safe. It was an odd feeling. Walking into the house was like peeking into a time capsule. Nothing had changed. The hallways were lined with the same floral wallpaper. The wooden shoe rack where I left my sandals hadn’t moved an inch. And the smell. “Did you make banana bread?” Grandma smiled. “I was preparing for you to get here. There are a few more things I need to make. We’ll also need to get fresh sheets on your bed, and I did a load of towels I bought for your bathroom, so they’ll need folded.” I couldn’t help wrapping her in a side hug. “Thank you.” It was the first time in so long anyone acted like they wanted me around, and I needed it. I needed the comfort this town, and this home, had always given me. Grandma patted my arm. “Did Boston make you soft, girl? The Harper I know is all sass.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not soft, just … being here … it’s bringing back memories, making me sentimental.” We walked into the airy kitchen I’d always loved so much. Some of my best memories were of sitting on a stool, helping Grandma make her famous meatballs. Wide windows behind the sink let light fall over the dark wooden floors and black granite countertops. Two loaves of banana bread sat cooling on a rack. An archway led to the living room, where sadness crept in. That had been my grandpa’s zone. He used to sit in his recliner, reading all day, and Grandma let him. But he’d always had time for me. “You got rid of the recliner.” And the couch was new. It was the first change I detected. Grandma stepped up beside me. “It was time.” Grandpa died over five years ago. At the time, I was overseas on the biggest assignment of my career and hadn’t made it back for the funeral. I looped my arm through hers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” She smiled sadly. “He would have wanted you to keep pursuing your dreams instead of sitting there mourning him.” Her hand patted mine, and she stepped away. “Now, I know you want to get settled in. You didn’t tell me how long you’re staying, but you’re welcome for as long as you’d like.” “Thanks, it’ll just be until I figure out where to go next.” She pursed her lips. “Okay, well, I’m assuming Carter will be over soon since you’re back. We can make him unpack your car.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. Carter didn’t know I was coming. I’d have to face him at some point, I knew that, but I just didn’t want it to be while my heart was shattered into a million pieces. I needed to get myself together first. We never forgot our first loves, even if they didn’t last. But Carter was more than that. He represented the best part of my life, the break I’d gotten each summer from my parents’ expectations, the rules of their world. Running a hand over my shoulder-length brown hair, I tried to think of a way to explain it to my grandma. Instead, I turned away from her. “It’s okay. I can unpack myself.” When I stepped out onto the front porch, the summer heat hit me, but it wasn’t stifling like it was in the city. A cool breeze filtered through the air, lifting the hair off the back of my neck. I closed my eyes and breathed in Superiore Bay. This place wasn’t perfect. It was everything one could expect of a small coastal Maine town. There were no secrets here, no where to hide. And yet, there also wasn’t a need to. Even if it wasn’t perfect, it was home.