Twice in a Lifetime  an anthology of sequels to Chances Are

From Susan’s Chance

“I don’t care where you’ve been other than that it’s part of who you are. You need to know me…that it’s where you end up that counts. Not where you started from.” He said, echoing what his mother had said only days before.

“Coffee sounds just fine," she sighed. "Just fine."

Chances are 'cause I wear a silly grin
The moment you come into view,
Chances are you think that I'm in love with you.
Just because my composure sort of slips
The moment that your lips meet mine,
Chances are you think my heart's your Valentine.

Paris France, Christmas Eve…three years later...

The song from the CD player seemed almost as if it mocked the young woman.

“I’m so sorry.” Susan was sitting upright on the edge of the bed; clothes that had only moment ago laid in a neat pile now were strewn on the floor by her feet. She put her hands to her face and began to weep.

“Don’t…Sue….please?” Jackie touched her arm and she pulled away before he had a chance to even grab her. She stood up, still weeping, but with head down and leaning against the tall armoire across from the large bed. Jackie hopped up and walked quickly to her. Only recently had he begun to set aside his prosthesis on occasion, but even if he had it, nothing in his power would be able to pull Susan back from the brink of shame and hopelessness.

It certainly didn’t seem like a honeymoon; especially when she had turned to him at the reception only the day before and shook her head. Was it a cruel joke she had played on her husband? She looked down at herself and shook her head in the same, sad manner as before; wondering just what she could do to get out of what promised to be a sham of a marriage. Even if Jackie was aware of her past, it still felt like fraud to her that she talked and walked correctly and wore the right clothes. But she didn’t have any idea when they got engaged that when they came together she would not have any feelings; her emotions had become overnight. And her body had seemed to shut down; bringing the honeymoon to an abrupt halt as she wept and cried and screamed in utter shame over her lack.

Jackie held his arm and stump apart, beckoning her to come to him. It had to be that way, since she had to be the one to decide, since he had decided long ago that he would never ever love a woman the way he loved Susan. Forgetting himself and her impairment, he gestured with his arms; as if to say, ‘come on!’

She heard the motion of his good arm and shook her head no and spoke.

“I think we shouldn’t…we….I’m so sorry.” She put her hands to her face once again; her body convulsing in sheer panic at her words; since even if she was convinced they shouldn’t be married that it wouldn’t break her heart. Jackie walked slowly to her and pulled her into a tentative embrace with his stump while patting her back with his hand.

“Maybe you’re right, Sue….just maybe you’re right….”

The apartment of Carlotta Perez, several days earlier…

Susan sat at the vanity in her friend’s bedroom. The girl behind her seemed almost merry as she combed through Susan’s hair; the soft hum of an old show tune about getting married in the morning escaped the girl’s lips.

“This is just the prelim, Sue…the main event starts at seven tomorrow. I just want you to look your best.” It was as nice and as odd a feeling that the girl conveyed; she couldn’t have been more ironic if she tried as Susan strained to ‘see’ how she might look. Long forgotten images of brides and even merely of pretty woman seemed to push and shove off the walls of her memory; elusive and hazy. It was a very long time between sight and the present moment, and she tried not to be too frustrated. It really was almost a sweet moment, in a way, since she was actually allowing herself the luxury of wanting to look pretty for Jackie on their wedding day.

“I’m so happy for you,” Carlotta said as she continued to comb through Susan’s hair; grown longer than ever. ‘Jackie likes long hair’ the impetus for the newer look; another irony.

“You’ve been just wonderful….” Susan’s voice trailed off. It was certainly another crying moment for her, but she held strong against the urge and smiled; albeit weakly. Carlotta kissed her on the cheek.

“How could I not be wonderful for my best friend,” she said as she brushed a lock off Susan’s forehead, kissing the girl in blessing before pulling back.

“If you look this good now….” She caught herself and the words’ imagine how you’ll look tomorrow went unsaid but for the silent mouthing of speculation. She leaned closer and kneaded Susan’s shoulders.

“Now we’re ready, okay.” Looking in the mirror, Carlotta saw a very nice if a bit petite Latina hovering over a very pretty bride-to-be. Susan would never envision that image; even in what she might retrieve in her mind’s eye. She felt unattractive in the midst of a relationship with a man who struggled mightily to convince her otherwise. He was honest if prudent and would always answer her unspoken question with ‘I think you’re beautiful.’ Jackie wasn’t blind to her perception or even the reality that she’d never look anything like a model or an actress, but she was much prettier than she could imagine and as beautiful a woman could ever be.

“He’s a very lucky man,” Carlotta said as she clipped back a stray lock with a burette.

“There….perfect!” Carlotta leaned closer, almost forgetting herself as she took in the image of the bride-to-be once again.

“You’re the best friend I could ever have,” Susan said, putting her hand on her shoulder over Carlotta’s wrist.

“And you’re mine, kid…” Carlotta squeezed Susan’s hand and pulled back slightly.

“Let’s get you dressed and off to the restaurant, okay?” She smiled and somehow it was the tone of her voice that conveyed that picture to Susan as she raised her head slightly and smiled back.

The home of Sophie Bonasera, later that evening…

“I’m…” Susan lowered her face; an image of ‘gazing’ at her feet. Sophie stepped closer and pulled the girl into a motherly hug.

“I know, Sue…. But it’s going to be okay?” How could ‘okay’ be a consolation on the eve of what would be the most wonderful day of any other girl’s life. She pulled the girl close and kissed her cheek and whispered softly.

“He loves you. You have to remember that, honey. He loves you with all his heart.” It was a good start, but her words fell a bit short, since Susan never doubted Jackie’s love. It was her own heart that was in question. Was she blinded by foolish hope? Was her life big enough to contain his? The doubts and fears of a lifetime seemed to press against her; holding her back in a way on the verge of acceptance. She shook her head slightly.

“I know, Mom….”

It felt odd even to allow herself that endearment. She had known Sophie for some time even before Jackie entered the picture, but it felt almost wrong to speak to the woman in such terms. Her own mother loved her after a fashion for the longest time; finally coming to grips that the boy she raised wasn’t a boy at all. Mild anger called out in disappointment for years over the afflictions her child had endured, only for her mother to see the one affliction wasn’t a curse to be fought but instead a challenge to overcome. And the other affliction wasn’t an affliction at all, but blessing to be cherished once she realized her child’s name was Susan instead of Danny.

“I think if your mother was here, she’d be holding you right now,” Sophie said. Susan thought of the final moments of her mother’s life and as hard as the first eighteen years together had been, it felt as if the last year made up for all the lack. She smiled and nodded, trying without success to keep from crying.

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay,” Sophie said as the girl sobbed in her arms. That word again…’okay.’ What normally might have conveyed merely adequate served as a sweet reminder that Susan’s life with her son would be a good thing for the girl. That assurance that goes beyond the word and brings life and peace to the uncertain.

“I know….It’s just so hard,” Susan said haltingly.

“Shhhh….shhhh….” Sophie stroked the girl’s hair and pulled her close; allowing her to rest in the love she had found for a young woman who rarely if ever had love for herself.

“It’s going to be okay….”

The present; Christmas Eve, Paris, France….

In the magic of moonlight,
When I sigh, "Hold me close, dear,"
Chances are you believe the stars
That fill the skies are in my eyes.

Susan lay back on the bed; a sea of bright colors and soft textures that went almost to waste for the moment. She stared with nearly sightless eyes at the ceiling; the soft, almost colorless blur of a fan filled what little vision that remained. Tears streamed down her temple and wet her ears as she sobbed softly.

“Honey….it’s okay.” Jackie practically pled with her. That word again. Okay? Acceptable? Adequate? Was she adequate? Authentic? Reasonable substitute?

“I….I’m so …..so sorry.” She turned her face toward his. They lay side by side; hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder, but she might just as well be an ocean away. Her heart was in two places at the same time. She loved him, but felt that old and familiar if completely erroneous feeling of her back-home insecurity instead of the restful newness of being a bride in a wonderfully exciting place. Apologies where coos and whispers and laughter should have been spoken. And all the guilt of being unable to coo and whisper and laugh as well. Jackie, as they say, would have none of that.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said as he sat up and swung his feet over the bed side. Standing up he walked around and stood next to her side. She gasped in dread that what she feared had come to pass. He knelt down by her side and grabbed her left hand. Leaning closer, he began to roll the rings on her finger slightly; almost as if he was going to pull them off. Instead, he kissed the ring and her hand. Turning it over, he kissed her palm and wrist.

“Yes….I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think you’re right after all. You may have given up on us, but I’m not giving up on you.” It would have almost sounded like a rebuke but for the softness of tone and the halting words that accompanied his own tears; tears that spilled onto her wrist like a soft rain in Springtime.

“I love you.” Simple but to the point. He followed it up with a gentle kiss on her hand once again.

“But….”

“I told you long ago that you don’t get to tell me what’s best for me, right?” As he said it his hand urged her to sit up. He leaned close.

“But…” She protested even as her words were cut short by a kiss. He savored her tears as he kissed the odd, single dimple on her left cheek. He urged her with his hand to her feet, all the while kissing her as much as he could while walking her gently over to the open door to the balcony.

“It’s sunset….” He said, using his stump in a broad if awkward and unseen gesture.

“Purple…you remember…. Almost like….do you remember Noxema?” An odd question, but her past still rested silently in her memory, the good and the bad both. She nodded…

“And pink? Like a Crayola pink crayon?” It seemed almost patronizing as he evoked memories; not from the recent past of their relationship but to a time when her eyes saw and beheld and rejoiced as a child. She nodded again.

“Grey…you know that dull almost dirty white…like shirts that have been washed too many times? The moon is just beginning to show.” Another ‘visible’ reminder. She nodded. Her hand went to her face; a gesture of embarrassment that is quickly ebbing and replaced by relief. He kissed her cheek once again.

“It’s a beautiful sunset…like any you’ve ever seen.” She blinked back tears as she nodded once again; the imagination filling in the gaps between his words and her sightless vision.

“I love you.” He said as he pulled her close; kissing her lips once again. He pulled back slightly and spoke again.

“Can you remember the biggest smile you ever saw…of your own? The nicest surprise…the best Christmas? A birthday?” He kissed her face by her left eye; a small scar rubbed softly by his lips sent a shudder through her; almost distracting from the question. He pulled back and waited for her reply.

“The…the day….when you asked me to marry you? When I got home, I sat in the kitchen and I cried and cried. I felt so...ugly. But then I remembered your face as I ‘saw’ your love for me. My hands felt that love through your eyes and lips and even feeling the clench of your jaw. And I smiled… it was so strong that it felt like it almost hurt. Like nothing I could ever recall…..Yes…” She nodded, almost duplicating what she had just described.

“Touch my face?” An invitation. She raised her hand tentatively; almost like raising a gaze to nervously behold either acceptance or defeat. She placed her hand on his cheek. The smile lines were deep and long. The lips parted slightly and mouth urged off to one side only a bit. The tears flowing freely and with great joy as Jackie began to weep for his bride. She pulled her hand back away from his face; feeling like she was somehow intruding on something very personal. He reached up and gently placed her hand on his face once again.

“Please….don’t stop,” he stammered. Like a kiss, her touch was entirely personal, but without any intrusion. Her fingers kissed his face even as his lips kissed her other hand; treasuring what to some would have seen as second or even third best.

“I…love you, Susan… And with all my heart, I know you love me….that you’re the best for me and I am…I am the best for you. You deserve my love just as much as I know I deserve yours.” He spoke softly and guided her back to bed. The room was darker as the sunlight slowly waned, but the room was bright and alive with the brilliant colors of the love between the two.

He lowered her gently onto the bed; following after her as he lay down and pulled her onto him.

“I love you so much.” Two words that she never imagined would grace her life. She lowered herself and her lips found his. Kissing him gently she spoke haltingly; pauses coming not from uncertainty but spoken with unfamiliar but growing faith in the truth they conveyed.

“I know." she said as she settled into his arms; safe, secure, and entirely loved.

Guess you feel you'll always be
The one and only one for me
And, if you think you could,
Well, chances are your chances are awfully good.
The chances are, your chances are...awfully good.

Next: Allie’s Rebirth

Chances Are
Words and Music by
Al Stillman and
Robert Allen
as performed by
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QAqkGHD4Q8