A Second Chance

This is really the last sequel to The Lake House Rules/Dana's Side stories, so familiarity with at least one of those series, and the prior sequel, "Rebecca's Story" are probably necessary to appreciate this fully. I understand that it covers a great deal of time in a short space, and that was intentional. I wanted to wrap up this story, first for me as the writer, and also for those readers who complained about the ending to the initial series, but without having to write 40 plus years of chapters, or even providing more detail about the time that elapses here. There is sex in this story, but no explicit descriptions. I have appreciated all of the feedback to these series and intend to keep writing stories, some of which will take place in this universe, and others that are not.

Rebecca and I once agreed that the one thing that we liked about Judaism was the tradition of sitting shiva. Stripped of any religious meaning, which we both rejected, it was a way to spend time with family and friends remembering a dead loved one. It forced you to talk about the deceased, and try to put a good face on a bad situation. I never expected to be sitting shiva for Rebecca, at least not at such a young age. But the cancer diagnosis came weeks after her 55th birthday, and she was dead within 3 months.

I was devastated. Rebecca was the love of my life. My partner, best friend and lover. From the moment I met her at the physics symposium in Indianapolis, I was never interested in another woman. And here I was, still relatively young, and trying to figure out how to go on without her.

Without my friends and family around, I think I would have fallen into a bottomless depression. My sister Sarah and her husband Steve flew in from Washington and stayed with me the last week of Rebecca's life. Our son, Peter, left grad school and flew home to be with his mother, and our daughter, Marie, came home from college. Rebecca's mother Rose and sister Leah were there for the last couple of weeks, and my father flew in a couple of days before she died and we all spent time at the hospice and at our home, going through the motions of life, waiting for my beautiful wife's suffering to end. She was still beautiful to me in her final days, even as she wasted away.

The funeral was a whirlwind. We were aggressively secular, so the "service" at the university chapel consisted of a few family members and friends reading statements about Rebecca, who was a brilliant scientist, a great teacher and a valued member of our university's community. The president of the school made a wonderful and touching speech that had everyone in tears. I was able to croak out a few lines before breaking down, and Peter came up and finished my speech for me while I sobbed in my seat. Then came the trip to the cemetery, and watching the coffin being lowered into the ground meant that I could no longer pretend that Rebecca wasn't dead.

But I had to sit shiva, so I had to be able to receive guests. Sarah, being one of the country's leading party planners, and who always was there for me when I needed her, had taken over responsibility for making sure that we had food and drinks, and that the house was ready. It was a blur at first, and I tried to speak with my friends, and the family, but I was a wreck, and after a while, Sarah made me take a sleeping pill and go to bed.

I woke up early the next morning to a quiet house. The kids were asleep in their old rooms, Dad was in one guest room, and everyone else had taken rooms at hotels. I made a pot of coffee and picked at some food, tried to read the news or watch television but nothing kept my attention. It wasn't long before Sarah, Steve and their adult children showed up, and I let Sarah take over getting ready for the next onslaught of visitors.

Eventually, the rest of the family arrived, and some of our friends from the college began to filter in. I was pleasantly surprised when the door opened, and one of my oldest friends, Fred, came through the door with his wife. We hugged and he made the appropriate comments, and we commiserated. Fred had worked at our university for a while, and knew Rebecca, and his wife and Rebecca had become friendly. Unlike me, who retained some of the social awkwardness of the high school nerd that I had been decades before, Rebecca was one of those people who made friends easily, and seemed to make everyone believe that they were the center of her attention.

A little later, I was very shocked to see my oldest friend, Gina, arrive with her husband. We had been best friends for years and dated for a brief time at the end of high school. She had married relatively late in life, and I was glad that she had finally found someone. We went through the drill, and she and Fred went off to catch up, while I dealt with other visitors.

I was sitting in my favorite chair, talking with a group of people about Rebecca when I looked up and saw Dana. Other than Rebecca, I had never felt about a woman the same way I felt about Dana. If I had never met the true love of my life, I probably would have married Dana, and I'm sure I would have been happy. But I did meet Rebecca, and instead, Dana became one of my closest friends. She was also Sarah's business partner. I hadn't seen her in a year or so, but she still was the second most beautiful woman that I had ever known. Yes, the years had changed her beauty, but not diminished it in any way.

She came over to where I was sitting, and I stood up to give her a hug. The feel of her in my arms, and her scent, carried me back to our times together which began at the end of high school, when we had torrid sex and carried on a "friends with benefits" relationship for years, until I met Rebecca. It was a sign of Rebecca's confidence and trust in me that even though she knew the details of my relationship with Dana, she never appeared jealous and developed a friendship with Dana. We chatted briefly, and she went off to catch up with Sarah and to make the rounds.

Eventually, the guests began to leave, and Dad went to sleep. I told my kids to go out and see friends, or go to a bar or movie or something, because it was just awkward with all of us rattling around the house being sad. With a display of reluctance which I guessed masked their relief, they left the house. The next thing I knew, it was just me and Dana, sitting on the couch, talking.

"Jack, I'm so sorry for you," she said.

"Thanks," I said. "I feel like a hole has been ripped in my chest."

She looked at me with her beautiful brown eyes, and said, "I can't imagine. I've never loved anyone the way you loved her."

"And I'm sorry for that," I said. "You deserved to find someone that made you totally and completely happy."

She took my hand and said, "I guess so. You know that I am here for you, anything you need. Any time."

I squeezed her hand and said, "Thanks. We have been through so much, haven't we?"

We started to reminisce about some of the crazy things we had done over the years, mostly relating to sexual things we did in public, and she actually got me laughing a little.

After a while, though, I was getting tired, so I said, "Dana, I'm so glad we did this, but I am exhausted and need to go to bed."

She looked at me with a look that I hadn't seen in years. Other than Rebecca, only Dana had ever had the ability to buckle my knees with a look, and apparently that hadn't changed. She said, "I'd be happy to stay, if you want. Even just to cuddle, so you won't be alone."

I briefly thought about accepting her offer, but realized that I couldn't and shouldn't. "I appreciate it, and frankly, I'm sure it would feel good, but it is just too soon, and I don't need to start having to explain things to everyone."

She smiled and said, "I understand, and you are probably right, but I wanted you to know that my offer to do anything you need is without limits. I'll see you tomorrow."

We hugged, and she left.

I went to bed, alone, and lay there thinking about how much I missed waking up with Rebecca, and how, in some ways, having Dana with me would have been comforting, but I knew it would be wrong.

The next morning, I was having breakfast with Sarah, Steve and Dad, and told them about my conversation with Dana. Sarah looked at me and said, "I hope you didn't take that wrong. I think she really was trying to help you."

I replied, "No, not at all. I understood that, and I'm sure that it would have felt great, but I couldn't take her up on her offer."

Sarah responded, "I probably shouldn't say this now, but you know that the reason that Dana has never married anyone is because she always said that no one lived up to you."

I was stunned. I sometimes suspected that might have been the case, but my ego was never that big.

Sarah continued, "I think she has been in love with you since high school, and kicked herself that it didn't work out between the two of you, but she never resented Rebecca, because she knew how happy you were with her."

I was really speechless.

Dad weighed in at that point, saying, "Son, I do think that it is too soon, but remember what happened to me when your mother died. I spent years mourning her and refusing to have any fun whatsoever, until you and your sister convinced me that I needed to move on, that your mother would not want me to spend the rest of my life sad, and to call Dana's mother. And even though that didn't work out in the end, you were right. So, whether it is Dana, or someone else, don't wait forever. You are too young to spend the rest of your life alone."

Over the next few days, the number of visitors decreased, but Dana came every day, and helped set up and clean up. She and Sarah had worked together for so long, they were a well oiled machine, and every detail was perfect. We also spent hours talking, about Rebecca, my kids, her life, and other things. But eventually, it was time for everyone to go home, and one evening, I closed the door, locked it, and realized that I was completely alone.

I walked through the house and saw reminders of Rebecca everywhere. I went to our bedroom, where we had spent so much time reading, watching TV, playing with the kids, and, yes, having amazing sex, and took off my clothing. I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower and looked at myself in the mirror. I was a 55 year old man. My hair was thinning, but, thanks to the fitness regimen that Dana's sister Ariel and I had developed years ago, I was still in pretty good shape. I got into the shower, and let the hot water flow over me as I began to cry uncontrollably. I sat down on the floor of the shower and sobbed as the water poured over me. Eventually, however, I cried myself out, turned off the water, dried off, put on pajamas and got into my empty bed.

Over the next weeks, I tried to throw myself into my work, both researching and teaching, and dealt with the friendly condolences that I received from everyone, until that petered out. I looked up one day and it was the end of spring semester. I gave my finals, attended graduation and decided to close my lab for the summer, much to the dismay of my research assistants, although I was able to find them positions for the summer so that they could continue to get paid.

I knew that I needed to get out of town for a while, but I had no real plans. Peter was staying at his college for the summer to do research, and Marie had gone to Europe for the first month of the summer to study French, and I had arranged for her to spend the rest of the summer staying with Rebecca's mother in Ohio, working as a day camp counselor. So, I was free to do whatever I wanted.

I spent June driving, alone, around the country without any real plan, visiting historical sites and national parks. I went to outdoor concerts in small towns, tiny local museums, minor league baseball games and county fairs. I have always been comfortable being alone, and even when I was in a relationship, I valued my solitude. I occasionally found someone to chat with in a restaurant or at an attraction, but mostly kept to myself. At the end of the month, I came home to rest and relax. I spent a week or so trying to avoid everyone, and packing up Rebecca's things, donating some of her work related items to the school, giving away her clothing to charity, and holding back a few things for me and the kids.

Sarah called me and said that she and Steve and the kids were going to spend a week at our lake house, and wondered if I might be interested in joining them. It actually seemed like a good idea, so I flew out and rented a car and drove up to the place. I loved the lake house—it was where in an incredible weekend orchestrated by Sarah I had lost my virginity to Ariel, and then learned an incredible amount about sex and women from two other friends of Sarah, and where I had spent many wonderful times after that, both before and after I got married.

I had a great week, swimming, hanging out with Sarah and Steve, who had started dating Sarah that same wild summer, and was truly a wonderful guy, getting to know my nieces better, and generally just relaxing. When Sarah and her family decided to leave, I decided to stay, and moved into the master bedroom, where I had two of the most incredible sexual experiences of my life during that long-ago summer, and a few more in the years since.

The solitude was wonderful. I read, watched baseball, swam hundreds of laps in the lake and engaged in what my psychologist friend Randall referred to as the healing process. One hot afternoon, I was lying out by the lake, half asleep in the shade when I heard a car pull up the road to the house. I wasn't expecting anyone, and I wouldn't have expected Sarah to have returned, or Dad to show up, without calling me. I grabbed my towel and walked back to the house. I was stunned to see Dana getting out of a rental car, carrying a bag.

"Hey," I yelled out as I walked up the path to the house, "what are you doing here?"

She turned, and said "Aren't you happy to see me?" she asked, shooting me the look that I hadn't been able to resist since 12th grade.

"Of course I am, but I'm just surprised you didn't call first."

"Why?" she asked, "do you have another woman in there?"

"No, of course not," I sputtered as I got close.

She laughed, saying "I'm just kidding. Sarah told me that you were here and I didn't call because I was afraid that you would tell me not to come, and now that I am here, I know that you are too polite to send me home, at least not without a good meal."

By this time, I had made it to her and I could see that she was wearing a tight t-shirt and jeans, and looked at least 20 years younger than her actual age. We hugged, and I was again transported back decades. And, for the first time since Rebecca died, I actually felt some desire for a woman. I pulled back from her, shaken and discomfited by these feelings, and said. "Of course I'm happy to see you. Come on in."

She hadn't been at the lake house since Sarah and I renovated it to make it more comfortable for two families with kids, and she looked around and admired the changes. "It looks great, but I will always have strong feelings about the old configuration."

When we were younger, we were able to make use of the fact that the bedrooms shared a bathroom for semi-secret trysts. I agreed.

"Look, Jack, whatever you really think about me visiting you here, it's a long way back to civilization, so, I'd like to stay over, O.K.?"

"Sure," I said, "there's plenty of room."

I wasn't ready to just assume that she wanted to share my room, although based on her comments after the funeral, and Sarah's revelations, she probably did. But I wasn't really ready to let her, anyway. I also knew that I was in the presence of a master manipulator of men, who I had trouble resisting my whole life, until I found one woman who I loved just that much more than her. But my Dad's voice kept nagging at me. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life alone and sad.

Dana opened the door to one of the downstairs rooms and said, "Is here O.K.?"

"Sure."

She went inside and closed the door. I went to the kitchen to see what I could cook for dinner, because I knew that Dana never actually learned to cook anything. I found some chicken and vegetables and decided to make a chicken stir fry, a meal that I first cooked for her before we left for college, during the one and only month in our lives that we were in a committed, exclusive relationship with each other.

She came out of the room wearing the same t-shirt and sweat pants, with her stylish brown hair pulled back into a simple pony tail.

"I hope that you don't mind that I got comfortable," she said. "This place always makes me want to dress like a kid."

I hadn't known Dana for nearly 40 years without knowing that she expected me to say, "No problem at all, and you look great just the way you are."

Dana's face lit up with a smile, and she came over to the kitchen and watched me preparing dinner. "Chicken stir fry?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, that brings me back," she responded.

"Me too," I replied.

We made small talk while I chopped veggies and made rice, and I told her about the kids, and my month-long road trip. She told me a few interesting anecdotes about some famous people she met at work, and dropped the fact that she had recently broken up with her latest man, a well known entrepreneur, who she had been seeing for a few months. But she never pressed anything. Listening to the conversation, you would have thought that it was just a couple of old friends catching up. And I wasn't sure that I wanted it to be anything different.

The chicken came out pretty well, and we ate it while drinking some very cold beers. Dana actually helped me clean the table and the kitchen and suggested that we watch a movie. There was a time that meant, watch part of a movie, make out on the couch, then go have sex. But that was a long time ago.

I agreed, and we found something that neither of us had seen, a light comedy that had gotten pretty good reviews, and we sat on the couch. It somehow seemed natural that I put my arm around her, and she cuddled into me, as if by using muscle memory. It was a funny movie, and we both laughed.

When it was over, Dana looked at me and said, "I'm glad to see that you can laugh."

I replied, "I am profoundly sad every day, but I know that Rebecca wouldn't want me to wallow in self pity, so I try to enjoy the things that I enjoy. Physics. Good food. Cold beer. A good swim. A good book or movie. Music. And beauty."

I think she took that as a cue, and she leaned into me for a kiss. Our lips brushed, and I felt electricity, which scared me.

I pulled away and said, "I'm tired, I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Dana seemed surprised at my reaction, but clearly didn't want to make me uncomfortable.

"See you in the morning," she responded, getting up and heading toward her room.

I started to head upstairs, and she said, "Do you still make great eggs?"

"I do," I responded, "famous in 5 states."

She laughed and said, "Will you make them for me?"

"Sure," I replied. "Good night."

She didn't reply, so I assumed that she was in her room.

I got undressed and got into bed, but couldn't sleep. Clearly, she was here to rekindle our relationship. Technically, we had never officially terminated the "friends with benefits" arrangement that we started in high school, and continued, until I got married, not that it was a legally binding agreement or anything. And clearly, I still felt something for her. But it still seemed too soon after Rebecca's death for me to start seeing someone else, and I wasn't really sure that I was ready.

This was, of course, standard for me and Dana. There always had been something standing in our path, and the timing was never right. The worst part was that, on a purely physical level, I wanted desperately to sleep with her. I wanted to sleep with her all through high school and when I finally did, I wanted to keep doing it, except for a very few times that I was in serious relationships, until I married Rebecca, when I thought that I had finally put that behind me. And as long as I had Rebecca, I honestly had lost all desire for Dana, despite her beauty, her sexiness and our history. I had expected to grow old with Rebecca, but that was not going to happen. It was very confusing.