Love Comes Home: A Collection of Second Chance Short Stories
Kristi Rose
LOVE COMES HOME
A Collection of Second Chance Short Stories
Kristi Rose
Vintage Housewife Books
FARMINGTON, MO
Copyright © 2015 by Kristi Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Vintage Housewife Books
PO BOX 841
Farmington, Mo 63640
www.kristirose.net
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com
Cover Design © 2015 Paper and Sage Designs
Love Comes Home/ Kristi Rose. -- 1st ed.
ISBN 978-0-0000000-0-0
CONTENTS
Second Chances
CHAPTER ONE 1
CHAPTER TWO 13
CHAPTER THREE 23
CHAPTER FOUR 29
CHAPTER FIVE 37
CHAPTER SIX 45
EPILOGUE 51
Once Again
CHAPTER ONE 61
CHAPTER TWO 73
CHAPTER THREE 83
CHAPTER FOUR 96
CHAPTER FIVE 109
EPILOGUE 117
Reason to Stay
CHAPTER ONE 129
CHAPTER TWO 147
CHAPTER THREE 163
CHAPTER FOUR 175
CHAPTER FIVE 184
Epilogue-6 MONTHS LATER 198
He's the One
CHAPTER ONE 209
CHAPTER TWO 221
CHAPTER THREE 235
CHAPTER FOUR 247
CHAPTER FIVE 257
EPILOGUE 265
Kiss Me Again
CHAPTER ONE 275
CHAPTER TWO 289
CHAPTER THREE 297
CHAPTER FOUR 309
CHAPTER FIVE 319
CHAPTER SIX 329
CHAPTER SEVEN 337
EPILOGUE- TWO YEARS LATER 353
SECOND CHANCES
A COMING HOME SHORT STORY- BOOK 1
KRISTI ROSE
VINTAGE HOUSEWIFE BOOKS
FARMINGTON, MO
Copyright © 2015 by Kristi Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Vintage Housewife Books
PO BOX 841
Farmington, Mo 63640
www.kristirose.net
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All Rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and publisher.
Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com
Cover Design © 2015 Paper and Sage Designs
Edited by Paige Christian
Second Chances/ Kristi Rose. -- 1st ed.
This is for all those that needed a second chance and to those that gave them one~
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE 1
CHAPTER TWO 13
CHAPTER THREE 23
CHAPTER FOUR 29
CHAPTER FIVE 37
CHAPTER SIX 45
EPILOGUE 51
SECOND CHANCES
CHAPTER ONE
Lorelei glanced at the clock and stifled a yawn. She was definitely not a morning person and, in her opinion, anyone who thought five hours after midnight was morning was sadistic.
The door banged open and Andee, her business partner, backed into the diner’s kitchen lugging a large crate loaded with groceries and fresh flowers.
“Morning, sunshine,” she said in her typical cheerful singsong voice. Her dark hair swung in a ponytail.
“Bite me.” Lorelei continued to beat the whisk against the bowl of eggs in the crook of her arm.
“Yay! You’re in a good mood.” Andee slid the crate onto the counter and began to unload the cartons of fresh eggs, gallons of milk, bags of spinach, scallions, red peppers, and fresh strawberries from the next town over.
Lorelei finished the eggs and poured them into a pie plate, completing her third quiche for the morning, this one a ham and Gruyere combination. “What did I say about talking to me before I’ve had my coffee and the clock hasn’t struck noon?” She teased.
“To not to. But I haven’t listened to you since we took tap lessons at Mrs. Becky’s dance studio when we were six years old and you told me to try out for the skunk part. Who’d want to be a skunk?” She shook her head while pulling down a large mixing bowl and handed it to Lorelei.
“I was a skunk,” Lorelei said.
“Exactly, and you said it was terrible. Remember how Buck teased you about stinking for all of first grade? Terrible.”
Lorelei paused as she measured out the flour for her waffle mix and curled her upper lip at the woman who’d had been one of her closest friend for the last quarter century.
“And you still ended up marrying him. You’re a true friend,” Lorelei said with as much sarcasm she could muster, considering the early morning hour. Roosters were still asleep.
“And don’t you forget it.” Andee blew her a kiss before she turned to leave the kitchen.
Lorelei finished the waffle mix and pulled the scones out of the oven, replacing them with the quiches. Running a breakfast diner, a popular one at that, was exhausting work and Two Chicks and Bacon closed their doors every day at noon. Lorelei couldn’t imagine how bone weary she’d feel if they ran a lunch and dinner service as well.
“Oh my God," Andee exclaimed as she barged into the kitchen, the daily special’s chalkboard in her hand, the swinging door crashing against the wall.
Lorelei, who’d been checking on her croissants, jumped and burned her hand on the searing hot oven rack. “Ow.” She rushed to rinse it under cold water. “What in the hell?” she asked, closing the oven door with her foot.
“I’m sorry. I totally forgot to ask if you saw the paper this morning.” It was an explosion of words, as if Andee couldn’t contain them any longer. Which she probably couldn't considering secrets leaked out of Andee faster than water ran through a colander. Her intentions never ran toward malice; she simply had a knack for inadvertently spilling the beans.
“Ah, no. I haven't seen the paper yet as I was here before they were delivered.” Lorelei pulled an ice cube from the fridge and rubbed it over the red welt running across her wrist.
“Guess who’s moving home? Well, not home exactly but back to Florida and crazy close, too.” The smile on Andee’s face wa
s large and laughter bubbled from her lips.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out whom she was talking about. There was only one person from Lakeland, the prodigal son, whose homecoming would make the papers.
“Why would you think I’d care one fig about Cole Williams moving back to Florida or moving anywhere for that matter?”
“Oh come on, Lorelei, its Cole. We’ve all been friends for a million years. It’ll be great to see him again. I bet Buck’s planning all kinds of man fun for himself and Cole—or he will be once he sees the paper.”
“Y’all didn’t know he was moving back?”
Andee shook her head.
“Didn’t y’all just see Cole a few months ago at the Sugar Bowl?” Lorelei tossed the melting cube into the sink and checked the list of items she needed to make and bake. She had no more interest in talking about Cole Williams than she had in getting a gynecological exam. Though both were unavoidable, at least one was in her best interest, the other...not so much.
“Yeah, we saw him at the Sugar Bowl but he was working. Coaching a top SEC football team requires a lot of his attention,” Andee said and rested the chalkboard against her hip.
“He’s not the coach, he’s the offensive coordinator.”
“Ah-ha, you do pay attention to Cole’s career,” Andee stabbed a finger in Lorelei's direction.
“No, I just overhear his momma every day when she comes in for her tea and crumpets. He’s all she talks about. And speaking of crumpets, if I don’t get back to this”—she swept her arm wide, indicating the kitchen—“we’ll be hearing more complaints than gossip.” Lorelei slid a bowl toward Andee and removed the towel she’d draped across it over an hour earlier.
Andee sighed. “I'll never understand how the two of you fell apart. You were so close.”
Lorelei looked at her friend, the woman who knew nearly everything about her. “Things were never the same for us after he left for college. Once he got there he never looked back. So much for all those promises of love and forever." Truth was things changed for them the night he graduated from high school and she gave him her virginity in the back of his truck bed.
“Lorelei—”
Lorelei laughed. “Seriously, Andee. He forgot about all of us. I can’t believe you and Buck even give a shit he’s coming back to town. He showed his true colors. Ugh, how many times are we going to have this conversation?” She knew it would be a different conversation if Andee knew all the facts but she was also aware of Andee's bleeding heart and proclivity for forgiveness. The last thing Lorelei wanted to do was rehash her past. Heaven forbid she mention the letters she’d received from Cole every year, marking the anniversary of an event that only made her melancholy. Fourteen letters. Fourteen years. She’d never bothered to read any of them after the first one. She'd held them in her hand, thought about reading them several times, but could never muster the courage to reopen a wound that had long ago scarred over. Reading the first one had left her sad and confused.
Lorelei rolled out the dough with such vigor the handle on her German rolling pin snapped. “You have got to be kidding me,” she said, tossing it in the trash bin. She took a second one from the hanging rack and continued her work.
“Maybe him coming home will give y'all a chance to put the past behind you. Maybe even become friends again.”
“Doubtful, I've taken a page from Cole’s playbook and moved on.” Lorelei gave Andee a pointed look and a half shrug. To her, Cole Williams was the past and she’d no sooner live in the past than she’d drive a Chevette or go a day without her smartphone.
They finished the food prep and morning set up in relative silence. Though they’d done most of the work the night before, bringing in the papers, making the food, cutting and arranging the fresh flowers, and booting up the computer was all done during the wee hours of the morning before they opened.
Twenty minutes before Andee was scheduled to turn the sign to OPEN, Lorelei loaded the front display with her homemade fruit Danishes, scones, crumpets, doughnuts, croissants, and biscuits. She flipped the newspapers open and laid them out for her customers to enjoy while they ate and stared down at Cole’s face. Amazing how age had only made him look better. He still kept his dark hair cut short but his laugh lines had deepened and given his strong face more character. Lord, how she loved that cleft in his chin but looking at him now only made her angry.
The picture showed him on the sidelines talking to a player. The intensity of what he was saying was clear by his furrowed brow and how he leaned close to the other guy, his head bent toward him as if telling a tremendous secret.
How many times had he leaned toward her like that? To tell a joke, whisper his love for her, or share a secret. More than she could count. But that was high school, when she thought she knew everything, could have anything, and deserved it all. And this was now, when the only thing she was certain of was that everything came with a price.
“Morning all.” Kylie, the young college student they’d hired as their barista, came in from the kitchen and took an apron from the rack.
“Mornin’ Kylie,” Andee called from across the room.
“Morning,” Lorelei said, and pulled her own well-used apron off and donned a new, cleaner one.
“This place is gonna be all abuzz over Cole Williams moving back. It's all my daddy can talk about.” Kylie pointed to the picture in the paper before turning to fire up her large magic machine that could turn coffee into dessert.
“God help me.” Lorelei glanced at the large clock that hung in the restaurant. It was going to be a long five hours.
“I wonder how long we’ll have to wait before Mrs. Williams shows up. I bet she can’t wait to hold court. My daddy says he wants me to bring home any good info she might give out.” Kylie rolled her eyes and pressed a button that shot steam out a long stem.
“I’m turning the sign,” Andee called out. “Two Chicks and Bacon is officially open.” She'd been saying the same thing since the first day they'd opened for business six years earlier.
“I’m hiding in the kitchen,” Lorelei replied but she didn’t get three steps toward it before several locals flung open the front door to the restaurant and came bustling in. Thankfully, Mrs. Williams was not among them.
“Did y’all hear?” Mr. Thompson, a mail clerk, asked as he grabbed a seat at the bar.
“Oh, yeah. We heard. It’s excitin’ isn’t it?” Andee answered.
“So proud we are. So proud.” Mr. Thompson said.
“Of what?” Lorelei asked, one hand ready to push open the door to the kitchen. “He’s an assistant coach for college football. He hasn’t cured cancer or anything.”
“But he’s gonna be a head coach with this new move. Not right away, of course, but he's setting himself up for the job,” was the reply from one of the others.
“Oh, well, I stand corrected.” Lorelei backed out of the room. There was no point in disagreeing with a mob of football fanatics. She turned on the stove and prepared to make omelets and eggs over easy. They would gush about Cole and football all while ordering the same breakfast and going about their day in the same predictable manner. Who was she to be the sour apple of the group?
Lost in her work, Lorelei jumped when Andee came through the door. “Mr. Jenkins says your ham and cheese croissant doesn’t taste as good as it normally does. Says you used the wrong cheese.” Andee arched a brow, her lips twisting into a grin.
“The hell he did.” Lorelei checked on the frittata in the oven before she tossed her oven mitts onto the counter and pushed through the kitchen door, heading straight for Mr. Jenkins.
“What’s this nonsense I hear about the wrong cheese?” She stuck her hands on her hips and stared up at her old Driver’s Ed teacher.
“What in the Sam Hill kinda cheese did you use?”
“It was Gruyere.”
“Groo-what? What is wrong with good old American cheddar, Lorelei?”
“Nothing, but today it was Gruyere. You want American cheddar? Come back on a day when I decide to use that cheese.”
“Some things don’t change, do they Cole?” Mr. Jenkins said, looking over Lorelei's shoulder.
Lorelei sucked in air and tried to steady her suddenly shaky hands. Her heart skipped at least four beats before it took off at an erratic pace. She wasn’t sure if she felt anger or surprise. Slowly, she turned to see the face that only a short time earlier stared at her from the paper. Fourteen years of unanswered questions, sadness, and longing pressed against her.
"Oh, I don't know Mr. Jenkins, I imagine a fair amount of things have changed." Cole briefly met her eyes and gave her a tentative smile. He shifted slightly, leaning closer, and whispered, "Sorry, Lore. My mom made me come. She wouldn't take no for an answer."
Though his aftershave was a scent she was unfamiliar with, she knew it would forever be a memory associated with this moment. She tried to focus on something other than Cole but her eyes were drawn to the small nick just below the dimple in his chin. It was astonishing how familiar yet foreign he was to her.
“I'm here to tell you that most things to do not change and Lorelei Parker's temperament is true and constant. She’s a feisty one, has been and always will be. How in the Hades are you, Cole?” Mr. Jenkins asked, extending his hand, a smile larger than the Mississippi spreading across his face.
“I’m all right, Mr. Jenkins.” Cole reached around Lorelei to shake the older man’s hand.
“We’re right tickled you’re back, son.”
“I’m pleased to be back in Florida as well,” Cole said, before adding after a small pause, “How ya doing, Lore?”
Slowly, she turned. Feigning confusion she squinted as she scanned him up and down.
