Last Second Chance

Chapter Thirty-One

Pulling up in her parents’ driveway felt surreal. She’d never been homesick. Not really. There wasn’t much to miss. The heavy weight of failure and disappointment thickened the air.

Her tires kicked up dust in the driveway around her as she approached the sprawling ranch. Glancing over at the house, she parked her white SUV and got out.

Deep breaths, Stella Jo. You can do this.

Her internal self-assurance became a mantra as she made her way to the front door.

Her mother flung it open before she’d even had time to knock.

“Well it’s about time, Estella Josephine. You made it. I was beginning to wonder if you’d even remember the way,” her mother greeted her at the door with a tight smile. “Dr. Lesley is going to come by for dinner and take a look at your back.”

“Hi, Mama,” she said as she stepped inside. “Of course I do. No one forgets how to get home.” Not that she’d ever felt like this place was her home. The house was slightly warmer than she remembered. New floral curtains, different from the ones they’d had when she was a kid, draped the windows, framing the sunlight that entered.

She opened her mouth to compliment the new décor, but her mother rushed on.

“Your daddy had to help out with a cattle run. But he’ll be home for supper. Come on in and put your stuff in your old room. We’ll chat and catch up. I can’t wait to hear more about this young man that called me. And you’re riding again. I was so happy to hear that.”

Stella sighed, already feeling her energy being usurped by her mother’s demands. She was pretty certain her father’s excuse for being gone was just that—an excuse.

“The young man who called you is very likely gay. And I just rode around a pasture a few times. Not much to tell.”

Her words didn’t deflate her mother at all. She ushered Stella to the back of the house. “Get cleaned up. Shower and do something a little more impressive with your hair and put your face on please. Dr. Lesley will be here soon.”

Dress up pretty, Stella Jo. Smile pretty.

The memories of pageants past twisted her gut. “Yes, ma’am.”

After dumping her stuff on her old bed, Stella Jo tried to ignore all the creepy doll eyes as she undressed. Her mother’s collection had apparently been stored in her empty bedroom.

The scalding shower slaked off a little of her courage, and she stared at her image in the mirror as she put on the dress her mother had laid out.

You’re doing it again.

Dropping the mascara from her hand, she gaped at her reflection. At the fading reminders of just how deeply Van had impacted her. The thought of her mother’s face at hearing that a man had actually fucked sense into her made her giggle.

She tried to imagine what Van would say about her letting her parents treat her this way. Her mom trying to pretty her up and her dad not bothering to show up. He’d probably tell them both they could go straight to hell. His girl was perfect any way she came in his opinion. The craziest part was that he truly seemed to believe that.

She’d left Dallas to come home without saying goodbye, hoping to be back before he noticed she was gone. Her intention was to avoid discussing this with him, but after everything he’d shared with her, she knew he deserved more than she’d given.

“Hell with this,” she muttered to herself, leaving her hair wet and pulling on jeans and a plain old white T-shirt. She wasn’t anyone’s doll and she certainly wasn’t dressing up for dinner with these people who didn’t know her and didn’t care to.

More importantly, she just wanted to get this over with and get back to her life in Dallas. To Van, if she were being honest. Because she didn’t care anymore if she lost her job. She knew where her real life was now. It had begun the moment he bumped into her. It was with him.

Her mother was practically convulsing at the dinner table. Stella couldn’t stop smiling.

“Dr. Lesley, in addition to checking Stella’s back, if you could recommend a good psychiatrist, that would be appreciated. She’s obviously lost her mind.”

Stella grinned as she cut into her steak. “Yes, Dr. Lesley. Clearly, because I didn’t want to wear a ball gown and forty pounds of makeup to dinner, I’m a nutjob.” She speared a piece of meat with her fork and pointed it at her mother. “Now there’s the picture of mental health right there. Grown woman, collects dolls, treats her grown-ass daughter like one.”

“That’s enough,” her father said from the head of the table.

She flinched. Two words. In her whole life, the man had never spoken—not directly to her, anyway. And when he finally had, those were the two words he’d chosen?

“He speaks,” she said, ignoring poor Dr. Lesley’s slumping shoulders as he tried to disappear between them. “All these years, Daddy, and that’s all you got? ‘That’s enough’? Because honestly, what the fuck?”

Her mother’s voice pierced the air before he could answer. “Estella Josephine Chandler, you will mind your mouth if you ever want to be welcome in this house again.”

Stella practically exploded out of her seat. “Welcome? Welcome in this house, Mother? When in God’s name have I ever been welcome in this house?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her mother glanced down and straightened the cloth napkin in her lap. “Sit down and finish your dinner.”

“No. I’m done. I’m way past done.” She shook her head and glared at both of them. “My whole life I’ve tried so hard—so damn hard to be good enough. To be perfect.” Her voice cracked, weakened by the threat of tears, but she continued. “I don’t know why you hate me so much, Daddy. I really don’t. And I’m finally learning to accept the fact that I never will.”

Her mother opened her mouth to interrupt, but Stella wasn’t finished.

“I wasn’t abused, and we weren’t impoverished. I know I should be thankful. I got to live in a big house, right?” She swallowed. Compared to what Van had endured, she felt wretched for even complaining. “But the truth is, I was mostly in the way in this big, empty house unless I was winning races. And how many words have you spoken to me, Daddy, in my entire life? Counting just now, I think we’re at a whopping two.”

“Nobody hates you, Stella Jo,” her mother said softly, shooting a pleading glance at her father. “We just—”

“Get on back to your life, girl. You’ve made your point. Have a safe trip to Dallas.” With that, her father stood and walked outside.

“Nineteen,” Stella whispered after he’d slammed the door. That made nineteen words.

“Come. Let Dr. Lesley look at you. Then we’ll talk, okay?” Her mother’s tone was placating, but a little patronizing too. Similar to the one she’d used when Stella had woken up in the hospital after her fall. Right before her mother had started asking the doctors how long until she could ride again.

“Since Dr. Lesley came all this way, fine. But then I’m leaving. I can’t do this with y’all. I just want to move on. Past this place. Past whatever it is that makes Daddy wish I was never born.”

Her mother’s eyes went round. “You feel that? That he wishes that?”

Stella winced internally. “I always have. I was invisible to him. Always. The more you shoved me in his face when I’d won something or accomplished something, the harder he tried to avoid me.”

Which was why she’d spent her life down at the barn. With animals that loved her, depended on her.

“Let’s let Dr. Lesley do what he came for so he can escape this awkward evening of torture. Then we will talk, Stella Jo. If I have to follow you to Dallas myself.”

Now there was a nightmare come to life. Her life was in Dallas, and she didn’t want any part of her past encroaching on it. Stella nodded and looked over to the gray-haired man at the dinner table. He met her eyes and stood, following her into the living room.

“Sorry you had to witness that,” she said quietly as he stepped in close behind her. The scent of expensive cigars wafted around her.

“No trouble. You’d be surprised what I’ve seen.”

“I bet.”

“Lift your shirt for me, please. And point to where the pain is primarily.”

“Um. Okay.” Stella complied, pulling her shirt up to her shoulders and wondering if there were still bite and passion marks decorating her backside.

The doctor cleared his throat. Apparently there were.

“Well, there’s certainly some bruising. And you may or may not have a cracked tailbone. Only way to know for sure would be to get an x-ray.”

“I’ll bring her to your office in the morning,” her mother said from the doorway.

“I’m not staying that long. I’m heading back to Dallas tonight,” Stella reminded her.

Dr. Lesley sighed from behind her. She turned and met his sympathetic smile.

“To be honest, Mrs. Chandler, there’s not much we can do for tailbones regardless. Some injuries just need time to heal.”

Stella wasn’t sure why, but emotion clogged her throat. Her mother wasn’t perfect. But at least she cared.

“Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate you coming out on the weekend and on such short notice.”

“Any time. You take care, Stella Jo. And er, maybe go easy on the riding for a while.”

She was pretty sure he meant ‘take it easy on the rough sex.’ She thanked him as he left.

Once he was gone, she turned to a defeated-looking Candace Chandler slumping against the doorway.

“I’m sorry for the outburst. And for embarrassing you. Truly, I am. But I’m a grown woman now. I need to let go of the hurt and move on.”

“I never wanted anything or anyone to hurt you, baby. I swear. I just wanted you to have the best of everything.”

Stella swallowed and took a breath. She glanced down at her fidgeting hands. “I get that now. But growing up, it felt more like you wanted me to be the best at everything. And that was a hell of a lot of pressure sometimes.”

“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry,” her mother whispered. “I was raised by people who didn’t want children. I wasn’t allowed to have anything, join anything. I worked this ranch from the time I could walk, and I envied those debutantes with their pretty dresses and their damn dolls so much I could taste it.”

Both women choked out a laugh.

“I wanted a little girl so badly.” Stella’s mom sobered and shook her head. “For a while, that was all I could see. My desire to have a little girl who would have everything I wanted and never had. That wasn’t fair to you.”

“It wasn’t, Mama, but I could’ve handled it. I did handle it. It’s him I can’t handle. The disgust that rolls off him every time he looks at me. The refusal to acknowledge that I exist. Why? Why does he hate me? I just want the truth. That’s all I came for.”

Her mother’s eyes closed so tightly they creased at the corners. “He doesn’t hate you. He hates himself. And it’s all my fault.”

Stella sighed. “That isn’t really clearing anything up for me.”

“I know.” Her mother nodded. “I know it’s not. Sit tight.”

Stella watched as her mother left the room and stepped outside.

“Hugh,” she heard her mother say evenly. “It’s time.”

“A mistake,” was all she heard her father mutter as he came into the house.

Her heart turned inside out. She’d known he’d felt that way, but she’d never heard him voice it out loud. And all these years, she’d thought she wanted him to speak. She’d been wrong. She moved to stand, but as her parents entered the living room, her mother motioned for her to remain seated.

Her father looked twenty feet tall from that angle, angry and tense and avoiding her eyes. It was her childhood all over again.

A fleeting need possessed her. She wished Van were there. Wished he could hold her through this excruciating experience. Promise to make it all better once it was over.

Her parents sat together on the loveseat across from her.

“Stella. Before we discuss this, I want you to know, your father did what he did because I was inexorable. I was overcome with the obstinate desire to have a child, and while I wanted a daughter, I would’ve taken whatever the good Lord saw fit to give me. But at twenty-nine, I was tired of waiting on the good Lord.”

Stella nodded, feeling completely off kilter and confused as to where this was going.

“Maybe you should tell her, Hugh.”

“Like hell,” he said without looking up. His cold green glare focused on a point in the distance.

Stella turned to look. It was the blue lamp she’d accidentally broken as a child. Without a word, he’d glued it back together. Neither of them had ever told her mother— that she knew of. It was the one secret they shared.

“Okay then.” Candace Chandler turned her attention back to her. “Stella, if you want to leave when I finish, we will understand. But please, please, wait to hear the whole story. And promise me that you won’t cut us out of your life forever. I understand needing space, darling. But these past few years have been so hard.” Her mother’s voice faltered.

“I can’t promise anything until I hear what you have to stay. But I will listen and try to understand.”

Candace shook her perfectly coiffed blond head. “I don’t expect you to understand. Some things… Some things you can’t understand. I just need you to accept it. Accept that I am a flawed individual who made a whole slew of choices based on pain and regret.”

Stella nodded.

The story her mother told came out evenly, despite the sobs that lifted her shoulders periodically. She seemed to literally be pulling strength from her father’s solid presence beside her, leaning on him when it became particularly difficult to speak.

“I was raped by a ranch hand when I was a teenager. Brutally.” The words stabbed at Stella’s heart. “The doctors said I would never have children. And they were right.”

Time seemed suspended in the moment as she tried to think of something, anything, she could say to console her mother.

“I’m so sorry, Mama,” was the best she could do. Shock and confusion had a stranglehold on her thoughts and tossed them back and forth recklessly to oblivion.

Her mother just nodded, and Stella realized the woman was a stranger sitting before her. Both of her parents were. Her mouth gaped uncontrollably and she did her best to keep it closed and just listen. Her mother seemed to be waiting for her to gather her composure to continue. Once the faraway ringing in her ears lessened, Stella nodded for her to continue.

“Your father was the one who found me. He saved me. That day and many times since then.”

Stella struggled to hear the words over her own breathing and the questions rising rapidly in her mind.

“I put it behind me. My family wasn’t the type to seek counseling. They were the ‘suck it up and get back to work’ type. They worked themselves and me to the bone until the day they retired. Once they both passed, the ranch was given to me. I wanted nothing to do with it, as you can probably imagine and empathize with.”

Stella swallowed hard, hearing the pop in her ears as she did.

“But Hugh reminded me that we had met here, that we could have a beautiful life, make our own memories here, and let go of the painful ones. He was right. So we got married here and began trying every possible way to conceive imaginable.”

Stella’s stomach tightened as she listened. She’d never been told much about her parents’ life before her. She wanted to know their story, but she was beginning to see why they hadn’t shared it.

“Nothing worked,” her mother told her with tear-filled eyes. “I’d nearly bankrupted us and driven your father away with my frantic need to have a child.”

Stella watched as her father murmured something in her mother’s ear that seemed to calm her.

Her mother’s shoulders straightened. “Then Grace Whitman showed up on our doorstep. She was the young woman who’d agreed to be our surrogate. She was pregnant and had an abusive boyfriend who knew her baby wasn’t his.”

Stella bolted upright without having meant to.

“Please,” her mother pleaded. “Please just let me finish.”

Stella eased herself shakily back onto the couch. Her stomach pitched and rolled. Wherever this was going, it was somewhere fucked up and ugly. She could feel it.

“I thought she was a gift from God, and in many ways, she was.” Candace sniffled. “But she hadn’t gotten pregnant by her boyfriend, nor had she gotten pregnant by herself, or by using the In Vitro methods we’d been trying.”

Stella tried to make sense of what she was being told. “I don’t understand, I mean, if she was—”

“Your mother was out of her mind with the need to have a child. I just wanted to make her happy. To protect her from the pain of feeling less than whole. I wanted to take care of her, give her what she deserved.”

The shock at hearing her father saying so many words all at once rendered her speechless.

“I’d nearly destroyed him, destroyed us. I can’t begin to tell you how badly I wanted you, Stella Jo. Wanted to be a mother, the perfect mother. The kind I’d spent my life wishing I had.”

She just shook her head. This was all so convoluted and messed up. The story was out of order and missing the most important parts. Nothing made sense. “So whose daughter am I then?”

“Ours,” her mother said, while her father answered, “Mine.”

“I am so lost,” she whispered helplessly. The world she’d thought she knew swirled out of her reach and disintegrated.

Her father stood and began to pace like a caged beast. She watched him, waiting for him to clarify.

“Grace wanted to be a part of our family. She’d never had one. We took her in and…” He paused to take a loud breath. “Your mother wanted a child. Grace wanted to give her that in exchange for helping her escape her abusive boyfriend.”

“Did you?”

“Yes and no.” Her father stopped pacing. “The IVF worked the first time. Her boyfriend pushed her down a flight of stairs and she lost the baby. After that, none of the procedures took.”

Stella heard her mother’s sobs, but she couldn’t look away from the authoritative man who’d remained silent for so many years. “So then how am I here?”

“I asked him to do it.”

Stella slid her gaze over to her mother. “To do what?” she asked slowly.

“Your mother asked me to go get Grace and bring her here where she’d be safe. To move her in with us and try to…get her pregnant the old-fashioned way.”

“Oh my God.”

“Grace was willing. She had a… crush I guess you could call it on your father. He said no, at first,” her mother cut in. “He was adamant that he would not do that with another woman. But I didn’t see it as cheating or betrayal. I saw it as a means to an end.”

Bile rose in her throat. A means to an end? Jesus.

“I can’t explain it. Or what I was thinking and feeling. But the night he finally gave in and went to get her, I’d realized how crazy and reprehensible it was to ask such a thing of him. Of anyone.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Stella dropped her head in her hands, choosing to hear the rest without looking at either of them.

Her father cleared his throat. “She was beat to hell and back by the time I got there. The boyfriend had found out we’d been giving her money and she hadn’t been sharing it. I…I…”

Stella clenched her hair in her hands, pulling just enough until she could only focus on the pain. It anchored her, kept her from losing all sense of her sanity completely.

“I did it for your mother, mostly. But maybe I did it for me too. Maybe I did it for Grace. Even after all these years…I still don’t know. It just happened. Maybe I couldn’t stand seeing her like that and I wanted to be a damned hero. I don’t… But I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Stella looked up to see her father on his knees before her mother. It was familiar. That worshipful gaze, the wonder in his eyes as he stared up at her. The love that passed so fiercely between them.

Her skin tingled. This was majorly fucked up. Her parents had brought her into the world under some seriously bizarre circumstances. But that was in the past. She wanted to move forward, toward the future. The future with a man she loved. Who she was pretty sure loved her too. But she did want to know what had become of her biological mother. Her story as tragic, like Van’s sister’s. She wondered if it had a happier ending.

“Whatever happened to Grace?” she asked quietly, hating to interrupt the private moment they were sharing.

Her mother looked over her father’s head with surprise in her eyes, almost as if she’d forgotten Stella was still in the room with them.

“She stayed with us for a while. Until you were born. But then she left. She left us a note saying she was happy that you would have a much more beautiful life than she had.”

Her father cleared his throat and rose up onto the couch. “We checked up on her from time to time. She held down a few jobs in the area. But just after your second birthday, she reconciled with the old boyfriend. He hadn’t changed much, unfortunately. They were involved in an accident. He was drinking and driving. Neither of them survived.”

An odd sensation of grief and loss for a woman she never knew settled into Stella’s stomach.

“Stella? Honey?” Her mother stood and moved toward her. “I know this is a lot. But you were right. It was always tense here. The secrets. The lies. The fear that you’d find out the truth somehow and hate us. It made this a hard place to be sometimes.”

She just nodded. It was so much to process. Too much.

“I won’t apologize for wanting you,” her mother said evenly. “I hope you don’t hate us, and I may never forgive myself for putting your father in a position where he did something he wasn’t proud of. But I’m not sorry it happened. Any of it. Because I have you. And I love you. And I want to be as much a part of your life as you’ll let me.”

“I don’t hate you. Either of you,” she managed to get out.

“There’s more,” her father broke in.

“Dear God.” Stella sent up a silent prayer for strength. If they piled anything else onto her, her bones would likely break. Any more painful truths would crush her to dust.

Her mother gave her a sympathetic smile. “We’re selling the ranch, Stella. We know you don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to shove it off on you like it was onto me. We’re moving to Florida, retiring from this demanding lifestyle.”

Relief, Stella thought. I should feel relief.

She did a quick evaluation of her emotions. All she felt was lost. Confusion. Maybe some betrayal mixed in there somewhere.

“Will you visit?” Candace’s hands clasped Stella’s. “We can talk more about Grace one day when you’re ready. Or we can just lie on the beach and talk about boys. Whatever you want. Whenever you want.”

“Right now I just need to go, Mama. But yes, I’ll visit. I think the beach sounds nice.”

Her mother’s tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Have a safe trip, baby.”

Stella made her way to the door on unsteady legs. The truths were shoving at her, propelling her as far from this place as she could get. There would be no more pushing her about riding or about taking over the ranch. She didn’t know why that didn’t feel as good as she’d expected it to. Maybe having her someone expect so much from her was better than having them expect nothing at all.

“I’ll see you out,” her father said.

Shock numbed her, emotional morphine she supposed. Now that she understood why he hated looking at her, hated the living, breathing reminder of a mistake he’d made, she expected even less from him.

A million possible outcomes raced through her mind as they walked to her car. Would he tell her never to come back? Not to show her face again? That she could only visit them in Florida over his dead body?

She swallowed the pain, a familiar habit where he was involved, and turned to him. “If you don’t want me to visit, I won’t. I just said that to make her happy.”

He blinked, something akin to pain flashing in his eyes. “You look like her. Like Grace. But you are so very much like me, Stella Jo.”

Her brows rose practically to her hairline. “I am?”

“Strong. Prone to putting the needs of others before your own. I can’t say it’s an easy life to lead.”

“I’m sorry that I…” she trailed off. Was she sorry she’d been born? Maybe before Van. Before knowing what it felt like to be truly alive. But having experienced that level of pain and pleasure and need, she couldn’t force herself to regret it.

“Don’t.” Her father shook his head as he opened her car door. “I failed you. Don’t be sorry for one second. For anything.”

She breathed him in, the man who smelled of work and worry and regret. “I’m not sorry I’m alive. And I’m not sorry that you’re my daddy. You might have ignored me most of my life, but you love her.” She nodded towards where her mother stood in the doorway. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she kissed him gingerly on the cheek. The first contact with him she could remember. “Thank you.”

“For what?” His flabbergasted expression would’ve made her laugh in any other situation.

“For giving me life. And for showing me what real love looks like.”

Leaving him staggered in the driveway, Stella Jo got into her vehicle and pointed it towards Dallas. Towards her future.