“Would you like to dance?” Porter steps in front of Thomas, hand out to me as Quinn and I approach the two men.
Before Thomas can say a word, Quinn responds, “She’d love to,” and places my hand in Porter’s. She’s right. I would love to dance with Porter so I can get away from Thomas.
“You didn’t return any of my calls,” Porter murmurs into my ear as big-band melodies move guests around the dance floor. His fingers are spread wide between my shoulders, firm pressure holding me tight. Ignoring Porter’s confessions while in his embrace is no longer an option.
“I didn’t know what you wanted me to say.” I pause. “No, that’s not right. I just hadn’t found the words that I wanted to say to you. But you sure shared some direct sentiments in your voicemails.”
“You know I don’t waste words, Callie. I meant everything I said. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have called. And continued to call.” I believe him. The stark difference between Porter disappearing on graduation day without a word and his recent, thoughtfully curated sentiments from years of self-inquiry are not lost on me.
“There has never been anyone other than you. And I thought I would have to take that to the grave with me, that you were long gone because I had let you go. But then ...”
“But then there I was.”
“There you were.”
“And so you thought what, Porter?” A moment lingers between us.
“I thought, I’ve been pushing Chap to take the second chance he’s been given and get his life back on track. To be better. To do better. And then I thought to myself,How can I advise him to take a chance onhimself when I’m not doing the same?What kind of example is that for Chap? What kind of life is that for me?”
“Is that what you think I am, Porter, your next adventure? Your second chance?” There’s a waver in my voice that I can’t gain control of. Porter deftly moves us to the farthest side of the dance floor to escape the blare of the horn section.
I peel myself off Porter’s chest so we are facing one another, not a word to be missed between the two of us, on this evening of past reckonings I am in no way prepared for, but here it is.
“I hope it’s my second chance.”
Hope.It’s such a loaded word. I used to be overflowing with it. In the dark of dorm-room nights when Quinn shared all the reasons why she feared trying to make it as an artist, I refuted her arguments with possible avenues to creative success. When my father diminished my mother’s business plan to start an after-school program, I left her Post-it notes of encouragement on her medicine-cabinet mirror. And during my summer internships at local New York television stations, when I collected letters of recommendation before returning to college, I didn’t just thank my bosses for writing them, I agreed with their assessment of my potential. I was once radiant and full of hope, and now I am clawing my way back to that.
“Remember at The Firehouse Restaurant, when you told me one of the things you loved most about me was my optimistic outlook on the world?”
“I do.”
“You broke that in me, Porter.” I let my finally chosen words hang in the air.
“Cal-lee, I ...” Porter stutters and steps back with my blow.
“No. Now I have the floor.” I have waited for this comeuppance, and I am not going to get it wrong, or soften my words to save Porter’s feelings. “My best trait is the one you took away. You took your gift for football, and you built a career, but my greatest talent, seeing the best in people, in situations, and in myself ... you shattered. You injured not just my heart, but more importantly and indelibly, my essence.”
“Cal-lee. I don’t know what to say.” Porter’s moist, pleading eyes match mine. “Let’s go somewhere more private to talk about this.”
“No. I don’t want to.” I have to keep my nerve. “For too long after you disappeared, I tortured myself with all the questions of what I did wrong, where we went wrong. That turned into doubting myself when I should have been my biggest cheerleader. Instead, and I’m not proud of this, because I got you so wrong, I lost confidence that I’d get anything right. I think I married Thomas because being with a doctor had worked out for my mother, so maybe it would work out for me. I gave up on my company,Milk, at the first hiccup. I leaned into my sons’ lives rather than into my own because theirs seemed more promising than mine.” I blink twice to hold back an escaping tear.
Head bowed, Porter whispers, “You weren’t wrong about me.”
“Well, you made sure there was no way for me to know that. When Thomas left me, it was hard, but at least when he left, he left me with reasons. When you disappeared without even a goodbye, you left me with this agonizing self-speculation, which is way worse. I don’t think I was truly able to get myself together and have faith in my instincts until John was born. He brought back all that is amazing and possible in the world. John gave me that second chance, but the problem still was that I only saw possibilities in my boys. Not in me. Until recently.”
“Callie, I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that. You have to know that wasn’t my intention.”
Even with all the years that have passed and the reasons he shared, I’m not letting Porter off the hook. “I know you didn’t. But you did.”
Porter drops his hand clasped with mine and steps away from me on the dance floor. Maybe I’ve said too much and he’s ready to walk away, but I feel free of the thoughts that have rattled around in the recesses of my mind, so whatever Porter needs to do is fine. I’ve said what I’ve needed to say.
“I flew here to ask one question.”
“You can have more than one, Porter.”
“Don’t need it.” Of course he doesn’t.
“Callie, when we get home, is there any way you would be open to giving us a second chance?”
