When Love Knocks Again: A Sweet Second Chance at Love Age Gap Romance
1. Chapter 1
I glance around the room, admiring some of the finished pieces on the colorful shelves. My ceramic art studio is small but well-organized and full of creativity. I never imagined opening this business would be so rewarding and therapeutic.
I take a deep breath and look down at the pretty bowl I just dropped. Now broken into a dozen pieces on the tile floor, it forms a kaleidoscope of bright colors.
As I kneel to pick up the first piece, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever be able to pick up the splintered pieces of my shattered life.
The door chime breaks me out of deep thought. I quickly stand up and smooth the front of my skirt before looking up to see my three-year-old niece and my sister, Katherine, walking in. As soon as my eyes meet Tori’s, all my sadness dissipates. Even if it’s temporary, I’ll take it. I pick her up and pull her close, kissing her on the cheek. She smells of baby powder and strawberry shampoo.
“How’s my favorite niece doing today?” Her huge smile, bright and contagious, fills my heart with joy.
“Good,” she answers in her tiny little girl voice.
I look at my sister, who’s grinning ear to ear. “Hi Katherine,” I say, leaning over to hug her. When we sandwich Tori between us, she gives rise to a sweet little squeal.
I look over Katherine’s shoulder, expecting to see Adam, her husband, entering the door.
“Where’s Adam?” I ask.
“He’s on his way to New York to pick up Aaron and Holly from the airport, so he dropped us off.”
Aaron is Adam’s foster brother, business partner, and best friend. I met Aaron and his wife, Julie, four years ago at Katherine and Adam’s wedding rehearsal.
I put Tori down when I remember I still have a mess to clean up.
“What happened?” Tori asks, pointing to the ceramic pieces on the floor.
“Auntie broke a bowl,” I answer. “Don’t step on it, ok?”
I walk over to the broken pieces, and pick up the waste basket next to one of the tables before bending over to pick up the larger bits.
“I’ll get the broom and dustpan,” Katherine offers, heading towards the hall closet.
“I have four workshops scheduled this month,” I tell Katherine, “Two birthday parties, one for a women’s group, and the one I’m dreading: a bridal shower.”
Before an air of melancholy can set in, I take the broom and dustpan from Katherine and sweep up the remnants of the bowl left on the floor. I look up and catch her giving me an apprehensive look. “I’m okay,” I say, answering her question before she has the chance to ask it.
Three days before our wedding, my fiancé, Justin, was driving home from Philadelphia. It was late, and it had been raining all day. They said he fell asleep at the wheel or lost control of the car on the wet road. Either way, he was gone.
I was suddenly a widow before I ever had the chance to be a wife. Four years later, I’m still heartbroken that our happily-ever-after ended before it ever began. I instinctively reach for the three rings dangling from a gold chain around my neck.
My sister knows me and can tell I’m lost in thoughts of what could have been. “Listen,” Katherine begins, “We have an hour and a half before you open. Let’s walk over to The Coffeehouse for some coffee and croissants. My treat.” She scoops up Tori and says, “Let’s go.”
An hour later, we’re sitting at a table in the small coffee shop. The aroma of freshly baked bread, coffee, and cookies fills the air. I’m sipping my second cup of coffee as Tori takes the last bite of her chocolate croissant and washes it down with milk.
Katherine rubs her swollen belly, smiling with satisfaction after polishing off the last of her mini quiche. She’s almost nine months pregnant with her second baby, a boy.
Adam was part of our family for years before he left for college. He didn”t move back to Cold Spring until fourteen years later. That”s when he and my sister reconnected after a very rocky start. He loved her, and she despised him.
He was like a son to my dad, and Katherine, being the first-born of three girls, resented the fact that Adam held a special place in the family. When he returned, Katherine was living in his house, and Dad talked Adam into moving in with her.
To this day, we all wonder if it was Dad’s plan all along to have them live together so they could work out their differences and fall in love. When they finally told Mom and Dad they were a couple, our parents were both over the moon with happiness.
They got married six months later. Their wedding was small and intimate. Partly because Adam’s only family is his foster family, Peter and Christina Baldwin, and their son Aaron, but mostly because it was only three months after Justin died, and they didn’t want to hurt me any more than I already was.
My sister’s happiness is reflected in her beautiful face. I’m happy for her.
“Have you decided how long you’ll be on maternity leave?”
“For at least a year,” she says, “I want to be there for Jon’s first steps and his first words.”
“Has Mom offered to watch them both once you return to work?”
“Yes, but Tori will be old enough by then to start preschool, so it’ll just be Jon.”
Mom has been watching Tori since she was a baby. The only time Tori goes to daycare is when Mom and Dad are off on their next international adventure.
Dad retired two years ago, leaving the real estate firm in Katherine and Adam’s capable hands. Since then, Dad has taken Mom to at least a dozen different countries. My refrigerator has postcards from Spain, Portugal, Italy, Germany, and Australia. They are living their best lives, and I’m happy for them, too.
I look down at my watch and realize we need to head back to the studio.
“I open in twenty minutes,” I say, “Today’s workshop starts in an hour. Let’s go.”
I enjoy what I do. It keeps me busy and fully engaged with my customers all day. There’s less time to think.
An hour later, the studio is packed and a complete madhouse. The birthday group I’m hosting consists of twelve seven- and eight-year-olds and a few parents. Everyone happily works on their pieces. The atmosphere is filled with loud laughter and conversation.
So far, only one piece has broken, so we’re doing well. Once everyone is finished painting their pieces, they’ll leave them here, and I’ll bake them in the kilns I have set up in one of the back rooms, which is fitted with kiln vents.
I also have some finished pieces to pack up for five different customers. They should all be picked up before closing time this evening.
Tori and Katherine sit with two moms who came in with their kids. Tori is completely engrossed in painting the small dish she’s holding.
“This baby is sitting on my bladder,” Katherine jokes as she gets up for the fifth time today and heads towards the ladies’ room.
Cold Spring is a small town, and although certain seasons bring in many people from out of town, most of my customers are locals—people I know in one way or another. This can be both comforting and a source of anxiety. They all know about Justin.
After the birthday crowd leaves, Katherine and I pick up all the painted pieces and put them on the shelves in the back room so they can dry overnight. We wipe down the tables and chairs.
When I start to sweep the floor, Katherine takes a break with Tori sitting on her lap. After emptying the trash bins, I put some of the finished pieces in custom boxes. I let my fingers trace the engraved logo on the lid, Just In Clay Ceramics. I never became Mrs. Justin Clay on paper, but in my heart, I’ve been Loren Clay for as long as I can remember.
Adam called earlier to let Katherine know that Aaron’s flight was delayed. We order a late lunch and eat while a young couple sits at a corner table working on their projects. I can tell it’s young love by how they look into each other’s eyes and how their conversation is sprinkled with intimate whispers and soft giggles. They’re oblivious to their surroundings and focused only on each other. I remember what that was like.
At three o’clock, Mom and Dad come by to pick up Katherine and Tori. They’ve been here most of the day, and Katherine is exhausted. I’m sure they’ll take Katherine home and keep Tori until Adam returns.
My last three customers leave twenty minutes before closing. It’s now six o’clock on the dot; I flip the sign to CLOSED and lock the door behind me. The studio is clean and tidy, ready for business to begin again tomorrow. The customers have picked up four of the five orders I packed earlier. The fifth one is five minutes away, so I’ll just drop it off on my way home.
My grandfather left me and my sisters a considerable amount of money in his will. Justin and I used some of the money to buy a house, but after he died, I couldn’t bring myself to live there, so I sold it and continued living at home. When Adam and Katherine found out they were pregnant with Tori, they bought a bigger house, and I bought their old house and moved in.
As soon as I walk in the door, I realize how tired I am. I take a quick shower and put on some yoga pants and a long-sleeve pajama top before serving myself a bowl of Lucky Charms for dinner. I carry my bowl of cereal out the back door and sit on the porch swing. Rocking back and forth, I can’t help but think of Katherine and Adam’s love story because this swing is where it began.
Justin and I were planning our wedding when Adam returned to Cold Spring and moved in with my sister. Justin and I had first-row seats to the love blossoming between them: the looks, the smiles, the whispers. When I finally asked my sister to spill the tea and fill me in on what was going on between her and Adam, she told me they had kissed once the night he moved in, but he hadn’t made a single move since then.
I think he took things very slowly because his respect for Mom and Dad is paramount. Living under the same roof with Katherine couldn’t have been easy once he realized he was in love with her. Looking at Dad in the eyes every day wouldn’t have been possible if he had given in to temptation. He knew Katherine wanted to wait until marriage to be intimate, and he never crossed the line. Neither did Justin.
Our story was different but just as beautiful. We met on the first day of kindergarten. He had curly brown hair and smiling brown eyes. His cheeks were always rosy. When he said hello for the first time, I remember thinking I wanted him to be my friend.
“Hi, my name is Loren,” I said. “Do you want to be my friend?”
He smiled at me and said yes. Two weeks later, I invited him over for our first play date. That’s when we found out he lived in the same neighborhood. A year later, his parent gave him permission to walk to my house by himself. After that, he came over just as much as Adam did.
We were best friends for years, and then we fell in love. On my sixteenth birthday, Justin showed up to my birthday party holding a bouquet of flowers and asked me to go to the junior prom. When he brought me home that night, he asked me to be his girlfriend and kissed me for the first time. He was handsome, intelligent, nerdy, sweet, and funny. God, he was so funny. He made me laugh every day for seventeen years of my life.
I feel the tears well up in my eyes, but I wipe them away before they have a chance to escape.
He asked me to marry him when we were both sophomores in college, but that wasn’t the first time he proposed.
When we were six, he sat next to me in class. One day, he walked in wearing a blue long-sleeved dress shirt and a striped bowtie around his neck.
“I like your bowtie,” I said.
He reached up and pulled on it nervously, adjusting it until he found his voice. “Loren,” He began, “I love you, and I want you to marry me.”
When I got home that day, I ran to tell Mom all about it. She listened intently until I finished recounting the whole story.
“Oh, my goodness, Sweetheart,” she said with a smile spread across her face. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him he has to wait until I’m taller.”
Smiling through my tears, I remember how Mom’s laughter filled the entire house.
The second time he proposed, we were having dinner with our families to celebrate my twentieth birthday. He pulled the engagement ring out of his pocket and looked deep into my eyes. I knew instantly what was about to happen.
“Loren Elizabeth Linder,” he said, getting down on one knee. “Are you finally tall enough to marry me?”
“Yes, yes!” I said, “I’m tall enough to marry you.”
I set the bowl of cereal down on the side table and pull my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around them. I put my head down on my knees and allow my tears to flow.