Last Chance (Chances Novel Book 1) Read online

  “What’s the buy-in?”

  "Twenty." Someone answered him as he fished out the necessary bill and laid it down with a couple of tens for extra chips. They dealt him in, and the game began. He didn't know how long he had been up there but when Honey reappeared there were multiple pint glasses in front of him.

  Jeremy had cut a deal with the bartender to keep bringing them up, so someone didn't have to keep going down to collect a trayful. By then, Shep was not feeling any pain when she tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Oh, hello there, Hon.” He threw her a big grin, pushing his chair back and pulling her down against him.

  “Hi, you’ve been busy.” She remarked, looking over the stack of money in front of him.

  “I have, kicking ass and taking names.”

  "Not for long," Rick said, looking her over before adding, "Hey Honey." The smile on his face said everything he was thinking and, unfortunately for him, Shep noticed.

  “Hey!” he rose abruptly, knocking Honey back onto her feet as he leaned over the table and grabbed Rick by the collar. “Wipe that grin off your face Patrick before I do it for you.”

  “What grin? I don't know what you're talking about."

  “This one!" Before anyone had any time to react, Shep threw a punch and landed it squarely in his mouth. Rick reeled backward, blood trickling out as his gums began to bleed.

  The table reacted quickly. Honey cried out in alarm, Jeremy and Thomas stood to get a hold of Shep, someone turned to check on Rick and Shep tried to free himself from his captors.

  “I told you to wipe that look off your face, what you saw you shouldn’t have seen and if-”

  “SHEP!” Honey looked horrified as he slurred, almost divulging what this was all about to a group of guys she had grown up with.

  "We're going home." She said sharply, frowning up at him as she grasped his elbow tightly. She was little, but she figured with the amount of liquor in him that his army-built strength had waned somewhat.

  "You sure, Hon?"

  “Yeah, I got him. C’mon Shep, we’re going home.”

  “Nah, I’m not done with this guy. This damn guy,” he flung an arm toward Rick again who stepped back instinctively. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against Shep, drunk or sober.

  "Shep, we'll go home," Honey attempted to be suggestive as she tugged on his arm once more. She gave him a long look, everyone else around the table seemed to get what she meant as a short chorus of snickers arose, but Shep was single-minded.

  “Listen, you-”

  “No, you listen,” she tugged harder on his arm, this time managing to dislodge his feet, making him stumble toward the stairs. “We’re going now, c’mon.” Her voice was tight, barely managing to hide her annoyance.

  It had begun as such a good night before dissolving into this. Is this what he did every poker night at Jeremy’s? She cast a glance at her childhood friend before looking away. She didn’t want to know.

  Honey pulled again and got him moving this time, getting him to the top of the stairs before they both looked down them dismally.

  “Okay, grab the railing,” she commanded, making up her mind that she would control him from behind. If he fell down he would survive, she figured, but if he fell down and she was in front of him, she wouldn’t.

  “I’ve got this.” He slurred again, swaying precariously as he reached out to take the railing.

  “I’m sure you do.” She said with a sigh of annoyance, grabbing his waist as he took his first step. It was the longest flight of stairs in her life, she was sure that he twisted his ankle at the end too. Although he insisted, vehemently, that he was perfectly alright, and she needed to stop mothering him.

  She rolled her eyes, sucking in a long breath through her nose before directing him through the lingering crowd and out of the building.

  This late at night the roads were empty, thankfully, since Shep was veering all over the place as they walked.

  "I left you for an hour, maybe a half hour longer than that, how did you get this drunk? Jeremy didn't insist on shots, did he?" She didn't expect an answer, mostly she was talking to fill in the sounds of the crickets and Shep's stumbling footfalls.

  “No shots.” He murmured, and she shook her head.

  “Well, if you get this drunk off beer…” She didn’t know what else she was planning to say, mostly she wanted to know how much he had drunk to get to this point.

  “Margaritas.”

  “Huh?”

  “Margaritas.”

  “You had margaritas? They serve that at the Kee?”

  "Beer-garitas." Shep laughed at himself as he walked, stumbling again and this time landing face first on the pavement. Honey stood there, looking over him with a wholly unimpressed expression.

  “Beer and tequila, lovely.” She bent down and helped him back up, pushing him further down the road once he was on his feet. “My house is closer, you can sleep there tonight.”

  “No.” He tried to protest, but he never got there as he doubled over again, and this time cleared his stomach of its contents.

  Chapter 23

  1989

  “There, there,” she patted his back trying to be comforting, but it only made him wretch again. She pulled her hand away again and waited until he was finished. He heaved a couple more times before straightening up, wiping his mouth and nodding at her.

  "Your house," he finally agreed. This was likely because he was barely going to make it there, let alone back to the Grant property.

  "Yes," she said, retaking his elbow and sidestepping the pool on the pavement. They walked in silence, Honey lost in a mixture of annoyance and sympathy.

  When they got to her house, Honey left him on the porch to check where her parents were before bringing him inside. She leaned him against the door as she undid his boots, helping him get his feet out patiently before straightening up and offering her arm.

  "Don't feel so good…" He muttered all of a sudden.

  Honey frowned, glancing over her shoulder helplessly. The bathroom was still a few steps away.

  “Okay, hold it in.” She grabbed him tight, to keep him steady and guided him toward the bathroom.

  "Dunno about that." He swayed as he walked, threatening to go face down. She barely managed to steady him again when the main light flicked on, and she looked up in surprise to find her father standing on the stairs watching them with an expression of sheer curiosity.

  “Everything okay, Honey?”

  Before she had the chance to reply, Shep doubled over again and released what was left in his stomach.

  "Oh, Jesus." She swore, stepping away before he got her feet. When she looked up again her father's face seemed torn between amusement and disapproval, but nonetheless, he came down the stairs toward her.

  “Get him into the bathroom.”

  “Sure,” she said hurrying to get away from the scene of the crime before her own stomach weakened.

  “Wuzhat your dad? Hiya, Mr. Halliwell,” Shep blearily lifted a hand to wave which she quickly slapped down.

  “Don’t draw more attention to your state, Shep Wheeler.”

  “Sure.” He was agreeable as she pushed him through the living room to the main bathroom. Once inside, with the door closed, the scent of him overwhelmed her.

  "You need to get undressed." She turned to the shower, preparing it for him. When she turned back to him, he was still leaning against the counter where she left him, fully clothed.

  “I said undress.”

  “I am.” He said stubbornly, making no move to do anything. Honey sighed and stepped closer, reaching for his belt buckle.

  “I got it.” He swatted her hand away this time and grabbed hold of the belt, eyes glazed as he lost himself staring at the wall. She waited for only another beat before tugging his hands away.

  “I’m not an invalid, I can do it.”

  “Obviously you can’t, and I’m not asking again.”

  “Asking what again?” She growl
ed softly under her breath, her annoyance reaching an all-time high.

  “Shep Wheeler get your damn clothes off before I get my father in here to do it for you.”

  "Oh," this got his attention, "I'm going." He undid the belt slowly, like cold molasses going uphill in January, peeling it through the loops before dropping it in a heap on the ground. Every other article of clothing after that came off just as slowly. Honey was exhausted from watching the display.

  “Okay, under the water. You stink.” She guided him toward the shower, carefully helping him into the tub before finally turning away to give him space.

  She left the room momentarily to fetch a towel, found her father diligently cleaning up the vomit and immediately felt guilty. If they liked Shep before this moment, they might be re-evaluating that sentiment come morning light.

  When she opened the door to the bathroom, she stopped cold in her tracks, staring at Shep who was in a heap at the bottom of the tub. His back was pressed into the wall, tiles caved in and hanging desperately to each other threatening to fall. The drywall behind that was broken through, and she could see the bones of the old house beyond all that.

  “What on Earth did you do?!” She raised her voice unintentionally before glancing over her shoulder to see if her father was still distracted with cleaning before going into the bathroom and shutting the door.

  "Jesus Shep…" She didn't know what else to say, he was out cold and not listening anyway.

  2019

  “You got so drunk you broke her shower?”

  “I broke her shower.”

  Adam laughed, shaking his head and while they were pausing Shep rose to go and recheck his email. The winemaker had gotten back to him, meeting at the restaurant was acceptable, and they would see him there. His eyes flicked to the clock, realizing that all this talking had stolen the rest of the afternoon from him.

  As he walked back into the kitchen, Adam had realized what time it was too.

  “You need to get going.”

  “You’re not going to hear the end of the story.”

  "Maybe not, but I know where it ends up. You and Honey break up, you'd have to, and you meet mom, and two years later I come along."

  “Yes, that is how it ends.”

  “As much as I’m delighted to hear how you turned that romance into a train wreck, you have another woman to woo. Try not to fall off any decks this time though.”

  Shep laughed dryly, standing as he gathered their dirty dishes and walked them to the dishwasher.

  “But seriously, Dad, I do want to hear the rest of the story sometime.”

  "I can't reassure you it gets any better after this." He closed the dishwasher slowly, "in fact, it does kind of go downhill after this."

  "Well, why don't you tell me the rest of it over brunch in the morning? I'll call Holly and see if she wants to come too. You can tell us all how tonight went."

  "And here I thought the inquisition ended in the 1800s."

  "Funny," Adam said as he grabbed his coat, tugging it on. "I'll leave you a message later, once I make the reservation somewhere."

  “Fine. But don’t tell your sister about the other woman. It’ll likely break her heart.”

  "I think she can handle you being in love before Mom."

  Yeah, except Shep wasn't so sure he was in love after Honey. Did that mean he had never loved his wife? No, of course not. He had just never loved her in the same way he loved Honey. But life with his wife had been comfortable, and after Honey, that's all he had wanted.

  "You going to be okay?" Adam clapped him on the shoulder and withdrew him from his reverie. He turned to look at his oldest and smiled before nodding.

  "Sure, I've been for dinner a million times. I know how to eat."

  "Good, using humor to ignore your discomfort level. Mature."

  “Really, Adam, it's fine. Worst case scenario, eat food while enjoying bad company." His son exhaled and rolled his eyes in annoyance. There was no use in pushing the issue any further. His father would only continue with his barrage of sarcasm. He pulled his phone out and checked it, no messages or missed calls. He tucked it away again.

  “Alright, well, try and have fun tonight. But not too much fun, now that I know you’re capable of breaking showers.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He saw his son out, standing at the window to watch as he got into his car. He might be thirty, but Adam would always be his little boy.

  Chapter 24

  2019

  He stopped once more beside the hallway mirror to check his appearance once more. He smoothed his hair reflexively before grabbing his jacket and scarf, putting them both on. He patted the front of the coat double checking he had his wallet and keys.

  “You look fine, it’s going to be fine. She’ll like you, and at the end of the night you’ll have the wine for Holly’s wedding settled.” He eased himself with quiet words before locking up and heading for the garage. Settling into his car, he sat there for a moment, holding the steering wheel tightly between his palms.

  Going for a meeting with a winemaker was far less nerve-wracking than going on a date. And yet he found himself wondering about the mysterious owner. They were from Pleasant Lake. Would he know them? Would they know about him? He could only imagine the things Honey had said about him following their break up. It had fallen short of being amicable, that was for sure.

  He hit the remote to open the garage and slowly reversed out, his thoughts still lingering on the past. It wasn't going to be her, that much he was sure about. It might be another woman who reminded him of her. Maybe she would be kind, perhaps she would be funny, and perhaps they had crossed paths once that summer.

  As he pulled out of the garage, his memories still lingered on Pleasant Lake, tugging at the last vestiges of his mind from that year.

  They moved to the city, and things had gone downhill fast after that. He had never given himself time to honestly think about what happened or why she had left.

  As he turned onto the main street, his mind traveled back thirty years once more. He could still smell the lemon cleaner that overwhelmed him when they opened the door to their new apartment. Honey at his side, bright-eyed and their lives full of promise.

  But not for much longer.

  1989

  The apartment's design was scarce. They needed furniture when all the place had was a bed and one tiny foldable card table. Excited to dive right into their new life together, Honey suggested they go furniture shopping and turn the apartment into a home of their own.

  He brought the car around, helping her in before they decided on where they wanted to go to look at furniture. When they ended up at a brand warehouse store, he followed her lead knowing next to nothing about furniture or interior design. She seemed to enjoy herself, examining each piece and testing it. Occasionally she asked his opinion but quickly learned that those were useless when it came to whether or not the couch would look good in the living room.

  He was only good for paying the check. The clerk who helped Honey took his information and set up a series of payments for them which he provided the checks for.

  "I thought I would get a job," Honey said casually, out of nowhere. He looked up from the check he was writing to frown.

  “You don’t have to.”

  "I want to." She countered before tilting her head at what he was doing, "I'll give you some of the money back. It's only fair. It's our home, we should equally contribute to its making."

  Shep stopped what he was doing as he rose and looked over at her, "you don't have to pay me back. I don't want you to. You're my girl, it's my job to take care of you. If you need furniture, clothes or want to go and get your hair done. I'll cover that. You need to…” he thought about what it was she might need to do for him but telling her to cook and clean might be taken the wrong way. He didn’t want a house woman. “Love me,” he concluded with a final tone.

  The clerk, sensing the growing awkwardness in the conversation, stepped back to give t
hem space as Honey blinked a couple of times trying to process what he was saying.

  “What if I want to work for me?”

  “I’m saying you don’t have to. You can spend your days doing woman stuff.”

  “Woman stuff? Like taking care of the house, taking care of you?”

  “If that’s what woman stuff constitutes?” He tried helplessly. But it was too late, he had touched a nerve, and it wasn't one he should have.

  “All summer I worked beside you at the Grants, I’m accustomed to hard work Shep Wheeler. I thought you knew that. I don’t want to be your woman. I might’ve given up college to move here with you, but that didn’t mean I gave up on all my dreams.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “No, you’re saying I don’t have to do those things. I don’t have to go to school or have a job because you’ll take care of me.”

  “Yes, exactly.” He smiled, thinking that they had reached an agreement.

  "You really don't see what's wrong with that?" He blinked helplessly trying to figure out what was wrong with that. He was willing to work for both of them, she could live in comfort under his paycheck. What was wrong with that?

  “You don’t.” She said in exasperation, throwing her hands up in disgust as she turned and started walking out of the store.

  “Whoa, Honey, wait a second.” He glanced at the half-finished bill of sale before looking back over his shoulder at her. He rushed after her, seconds after deciding the clerk had enough information to start the transaction.

  He caught her at the door and grabbed her arm, turning her to face him rather forcefully.

  “I’m not sure why you’re upset! I’m saying you don’t have to do those things because I’m happy to provide for you.”

  “Nothing is making me feel obligated to do those things, Shep. I want to do them.”

  “But...why?”

  This was apparently the wrong response because she threw her hands up and held her breath, letting her face go red instead of screaming.