A second chance in the 1980s
Chapter One
I didn’t mean to save him. Not really. But there I was, standing on the icy riverbank, my winter coat half-off, about to plunge into the freezing water after my fiancé, Evan Summers. The biting wind whipped at my face, snapping me back to reality. This was it. Thirty years ago, all over again.
The posters lining the street, the style of the clothes…it all clicked. I was back. Back to the day I’d nearly drowned saving Evan. Back to the day that sealed my fate.
Last time, pulling him from the churning water, the onlookers had shrieked about a “damsel saving a hero.” They’d gossiped about the impropriety of us clinging together in the river. With an existing engagement, the Summers family had swiftly proposed marriage.
Marriage to a man who never loved me. He’d planned on breaking things off, his “accident” a convenient cover for retrieving a fishing net for his “one true love,” Deborah Miller.
I cried, I raged, but I clung to the hope of winning his heart. I cared for him, for his parents, I bore him a brilliant son. But his suicide after Deborah’s death—a tragic act of self-sacrifice for his lost love—shattered everything. To him, my thirty years were a cruel joke. A lifetime wasted trying to thaw an ice cube.
This time, I wouldn’t repeat the same mistake. I pulled my coat tighter. As I turned to leave, I saw Evan, miraculously, already clambering out of the water, his swimming skills remarkably polished.
Two:
My brow furrowed. Last time, he couldn’t swim. He’d only learned after we married.
He reached me, shivering dramatically. “You really thought you could trap me again? I’ve been practicing, and my self-rescue skills are top-notch!”
“Were you not aware I was leaving?” I retorted, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “If you hadn’t blocked my path, I’d be home by now.”
He glanced at my still-buttoned coat. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. “Take off your coat, I’m freezing!” He actually demanded!
“Anyone want to lend Evan a coat? He’s harassing a woman in public to take off her clothes,” I announced to the onlookers. Laughter erupted. They were calling him shameless.
Evan, a college professor, unaccustomed to ridicule, sputtered. Then he launched into his performance. “My fiancée stood by and watched me nearly die. I’m breaking things off with Patricia Quinn. Consider this our official split!”
The crowd buzzed, suddenly confused.
“Evan, you swam to shore. Why are you accusing Patricia of negligence?” someone called out.
“Yeah, I thought she was going to take off her coat.”
“A woman shouldn’t go into freezing water, she’d get sick.”
Three:
My reputation wasn’t something I wanted to gamble with. “Evan, what are you talking about? You can swim perfectly well. What good would my diving in have done?”
He stammered, “Patricia ignored me drowning. That’s reason enough to end our engagement.”
The crowd’s sentiment shifted.
“You can swim! Why would she jump in?”
“Are you using this as an excuse to get out of the marriage?”
“It was freezing cold, a girl shouldn’t be jumping in!”
A wave of bitterness washed over me. My ill health after that rescue, the agonizing menstrual cramps, the difficulty conceiving…it was all for nothing. To him, I was a conniving woman who’d engineered his near-drowning to trap him.
I nodded. “Fine. The engagement is off. Let the record show Evan Summers refused to marry me, not the other way around.” I left.
Four:
My mother, alerted to the river incident, stood at our door, her cane in hand, her eyes filled with worry. I fell into her arms, sobbing.
“Mom, don’t cry, I’m not going to marry Evan. He doesn’t love me.” I settled her into a chair. “But if I don’t marry him, I’ll have to go to the countryside!”
Her voice was heavy with regret. “It’s my fault, my dear, it’s all my fault.” I’d been forced to marry Evan to avoid being sent to work in the countryside.
If I left, my sick, blind mother would be at the mercy of my greedy relatives. But my past thirty years flashed through my head, and the weight of my choice pressed upon me.
Then, a cough, a sound of pouring water, outside our door.
Five:
It was Brian Wheeler, my father’s best friend’s son. My father had saved Brian’s parents, and Brian had promised, as he knelt before my father’s coffin, “I’ll take care of Patricia and her mother.”
I’d dismissed it as a heartfelt gesture. But he’d kept his promise, his unwavering support crucial to my life. A skilled technician, he could help me stay in the city.
I hurried to the yard, but he was already gone.
I bought him some medicine for a cough and cold at a pharmacy, running into Evan. He sneered at my purchase. “Oh, aren’t you the caring one now? Are you buying this medicine for me after your big show of rejecting me earlier?”
Ignoring his snide remarks, I left. But he grabbed my arm. “Don’t go to Deborah’s. I don’t want you bullying her again. Oh, and I guess this medicine is what you should have done.”
I wanted to explode, but I knew arguing was useless. I yanked my arm free and walked away.
Six:
I brewed the medicine carefully and knocked on Brian’s door. He opened it, coughing. “Patricia, what is it? Wait, let me get my jacket.”
I handed him the medicine. “I heard you coughing yesterday. Take care of yourself.”
My cheeks flushed. He seemed stunned.
I was direct. “You promised to take care of me after my dad died. Is that promise still valid?”
He nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”
“Then marry me. That way, you can take care of me always.” I needed to secure this.
His gaze was intense, questioning, but he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his ID. “Let’s do it now.”
Seven:
We got our marriage license. With no close relatives on either side, we skipped the wedding reception, focusing on getting my factory job secured before the positions filled.
Suddenly, chaos erupted. Evan and Deborah stormed in, Evan grabbing the foreman’s arm. “She can’t work here!”
He pointed at me. “Patricia, have some decency! We’re broken up! Why are you taking my future wife’s job!?”
The foreman started to speak, but Evan cut him off. “I know you think she can’t handle the countryside, but she shouldn’t take my wife’s spot!”
I felt a laugh bubbling up. My wife’s spot? After thirty years?
“Mr. Summers, Patricia’s position is secured due to her husband’s employment here,” the foreman stated.
Evan froze. “Husband? What husband? She couldn’t have possibly…”
