Second Chance (2 page)

“You know you will never make anything of yourself without me, Shannon. Dumb women don't get anywhere without showing their boobs, and yours are too saggy now,” John laughed and laughed. This comment had come when I had the audacity to say that I wanted to go back to school. John had just learned of his illness, and I was thinking that doing some courses online while caring for him would be a good idea for my future and Courtney's.

“John, I am just trying to provide the best life I can for our daughter.... and myself...” I whispered defeated as I continued to fold the laundry. The crazy thing about John was that he was superbly wealthy, yet refused to hire a maid to help me because he felt that I somehow needed to do all of the housework myself.

“You let me tell you something, Shannon. Our daughter will be cared for whether I am here or not. That isn't any of your concern,” he snipped, grabbing my wrist from above and staring into my face with his steely brown eyes.

“Let go of me, John, you're hurting me!” I snapped back pulling as hard as I could. His disease had started to progress already, and he couldn't hold onto me. The shock of his weakness threw him for a loop and he backed up a couple of steps and stormed out to get into his car. I don't know where he went, but I was glad he was gone that day.

And I was glad he was gone for good now.

I walked around the house looking at mementos from our marriage. Everything reminded me of something.

The purple art glass vase on the mantle that I had bought in Tuscany. While I was shopping, he was hidden away in a villa boinking a local Italian girl he had met the day before. He didn't think I knew it, but I did. This was just three years into our marriage.

Oh, and there is the chenille throw that I bought on our trip to Maine. That was the time that he called me a whore for wearing a shirt that he deemed to be too low cut. He called me the name while we were standing in the middle of a wonderful little shop by the shore. He loved to humiliate me in front of others. It was a hobby for him. I can still see the face of the shop owner, showing such pity for me.

Then, I looked down at my own hand. A large diamond, princess cut ring. It was 3 carats, just as I had requested. Only he didn't buy it for me. He bought it for another woman named Tiffany that he screwed on our 10 year wedding anniversary when he left me sitting at home instead of taking me out. He described in great detail how he had met Tiffany at a bar on the way home to pick me up for dinner. She looked so hot in her tight red dress that he needed to get to know her a bit better.

They went to a hotel and spent the whole night having sex over and over. Her body was better than mine as she was only 19 at the time. He told me about her perky breasts and tight private area. He made me listen as he described every last detail. They were together every weekend for almost a year when he bought her a ring.

Unfortunately, Tiffany declined his proposal as she had met a rocker that suited her fancy more. Instead of returning the ring, he forced me to wear it so that he looked like a stud in front of his attorney buddies. He threatened to divorce me and take Courtney if I didn't comply, and, as usual, I complied.

In an instant, the tears suddenly came again along with a healthy dose of anger.
How could I have been so stupid? So weak? Such a doormat?

I yanked the ring off my finger and flung it across the room hitting the window beside the sofa. That's when I swung around and punched my fist through the wall. Blood splattered everywhere as my knuckles opened from the force. I had no idea where that emotion or strength came from. It was both exhilarating and painful at the same time.

“Mrs. Harris! Are you okay? Let me help you....” Just then I noticed Evelyn standing in the doorway with a bag of groceries in her arms. She set them down on the end table next to the sofa and ran to me. “Let me see that, honey....” Evelyn held my hand up and noticed that I had gashes on all of my knuckles. She looked at the wall and saw a bloody hole the size of my hand.

“I'm okay. Just blowing off some steam.... stress, I mean...” I muttered and stuttered trying to regain my composure and dignity.

“Girl, you don't have to explain anything to me. I used to be married to one too,” she said with a slight grin as she started to dab my wounds with a paper towel from the grocery bag.

“I'm not sure what you mean, Evelyn...” I started to say.

“Mrs. Harris...”

“Please, call me Shannon...”

“Okay, Shannon.... I know that you and Mr. Harris didn't exactly have a perfect marriage. He said some things to me in passing before he stopped talking. Please pardon me for saying so, because I don't like to speak ill of the dead, but he was a royal jackass....”

I burst into hysterical laughter mixed with tears as I gave Evelyn a big hug. I think I shocked her because she jumped and then began to laugh with me.

“These wounds aren't bad enough to need stitches at the hospital, but I do have some liquid stitches in my medical bag. Let me grab that from the car....” she said as she walked out the door leading from the mud room to the garage.

When Evelyn returned, we sat on the sofa as she dressed my new “wounds of freedom”. Some people get tattoos. Apparently I get rowdy and punch stuff.

“Evelyn, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, sweetie,” she said looking down as she continued cleaning my knuckles.

“What did John say?”

Evelyn stopped and avoided eye contact with me. A sense of discomfort filled the room. “I don't mean to put you on the spot, but I'd really like to know.”

“Shannon, does it really matter now?” she whispered, still not looking up.

“Probably not, but I'd still like to know. Trust me, nothing you could say would be any worse than what he said to me every single day for almost 18 years,” I said sighing.

“Okay... Well, once, after you left the room, he said, 'Idiot'. I tried to ignore him, but he went on to say that you were a gold digger who only stayed with him for the money. He said that when he died, you thought you were going to be all set financially, but that he had some big surprises in store for you....” Evelyn said holding my hand in hers and looking me in the face, finally. “I never could figure out why he was so angry. You took wonderful care of him even though he was so nasty and mean to you.”

“I wonder what that meant? I am not a gold digger. Good Lord, a gold digger would have left years ago. I was more of a doormat.... Well, no more. I am making a new life for myself.... without men....” I trailed off.

“Shannon, let me give you the benefit of my almost 60 years on this Earth. Don't let some man who treated you wrong ruin your ability to love again. Ain't no man worth that. He was just a bad egg, honey. Go get you a golden egg!” Evelyn smiled as she used one of her hands to slap me gently on the knee.

It was a nice moment to have a motherly figure talk to me. I had missed that about having my own mother around. Truth be told, she would have given me the same advice Evelyn was giving me right at that moment.

Chapter 3

The next few days were like a whirlwind. John's service was nice and calm. Little emotion was shown by anyone including his own brother, David. He and John had been estranged for about four years, so no surprise there.

A lot of John's clients and partners at the law firm came. Although John's parents died in a plane crash ten years before he died, I had hoped that he and David could keep their small family together. No such luck as John had alienated him. David was a nice guy, but he wouldn't put up with John's antics. He had also told me many times over the years that his brother was a sociopath and I should leave him. Maybe I should have. Maybe I was too weak because he made me believe I was useless and worthless.

After the service on Monday, I went back to the house to start planning my next moves. Maybe going back to school to finish my own law degree or maybe I would start my own business. By Tuesday morning, the fog was starting to lift, and I felt like I was getting my legs under me again.

Courtney had just finished high school and was headed off to college at the University of Georgia, so I was about to be an empty nester. Life was changing all at once.

Living in the plush Atlanta suburbs had been a godsend over the years because it allowed Courtney to get involved in the finer things of life. She was well cultured and would do fine on her own. She would likely be the life of her sorority house. I prayed that she would find a good man who would love her and not try to control her.

“Mom? Someone's at the door!” Courtney yelled from her room upstairs. Apparently, I had so zoned out sitting in my chair drinking my coffee that I hadn't heard the doorbell. I ran over to open it and found a gentleman standing there wearing a nice suit and holding a file folder.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Are you Shannon Harris?” he responded with a smile.

“Yes, I am. And who are you?”

“My name is Phil Sizemore. I just wanted to express my condolences to you on the untimely death of your beloved husband, John.... And I also wanted to find out when I can move in....” he said as he started opening the folder.

“Move in? I don't understand.....” I was completely and utterly confused.

“Didn't John tell you, Mrs. Harris? I own this house. I've owned it for almost two years now....” he said furrowing his eyebrows.

“What in the hell are you talking about? I own this house. It reverted to me when he died.....” I snapped.

“Mrs. Harris, I own the home. I assure you. Here, take a look at the signed and executed contract, the deed....” Phil handed me the file folder which was full of closing documents from two years prior. There was also some kind of trade paperwork that didn't look familiar to me.

“What is this? The trade document?” I asked.

“That was our agreement. You see, I owned a farm up in the north Georgia mountains. Mr. Harris approached me when I ran a classified ad a couple of years ago. He told me that he wanted to do a trade of my property for this one. We completed escrow in June of that year.”

“June.... That's when he was diagnosed....” I muttered to myself.

“You can see that his law partner was the one who actually did the closing. Parker Daily was his name...” Phil continued pointing out facts in the paperwork. I felt like my mind was spinning.

“I am shocked.... I don't know what to think or what to do here.... My daughter hasn't left for college yet....”

“I'm not sure what to say, Mrs. Harris. I just know that Mr. Harris told me he was dying.... terminally ill... and that I could take possession within a week of his death. Parker called me yesterday morning and alerted me to his passing. Again, so sorry..... But my family and I have been waiting....”

“Listen, I don't really care how long you have been waiting. This is news to me, and until I talk to Parker, I am not going anywhere!” I yelled and slammed the door in his face.

Fuming mad, I immediately reached for my cell phone as I peeked out of the window to make sure Phil was leaving. Thankfully, he was leaving so I could calm down temporarily. At least Courtney hadn't heard our conversation, so she was focused upstairs packing her boxes for college.

“Parker? This is Shannon Harris. We need to talk. Now. Can you come over to the house? Great.... Oh, and Parker? Bring the files about the sale of my home and anything else that I don't know about...” I said. Parker went silent when I mentioned the home sale. He knew all hell was about to break loose.

It seemed to take hours for him to arrive, but it had only been about 30 minutes before he was at my door, file folders in hand.

“Shannon. Good to see you again....” he said politely as he brushed past me in the doorway. Parker had always been one of those cold attorneys who seemed to have no compassion or heart.

“Parker,” I said as I shut the door behind him and joined him in the living room. “Now, let's just put the niceties aside, and you tell me what in the hell is going on with my house,” I snipped.