Deleted Scene from The Library of Second Chances
Spoiler alert: I wouldn’t read this deleted scene until you’ve read the published version of The Library of Second Chances.
***
I’m so excited to share this scene from the cutting room floor! One of the biggest overhauls I made to this story was with regards to how Logan figures out Lucy is Island Girl.
When I first wrote this book, I was trying to pretty closely follow what happens in You’ve Got Mail. However, then I was paired with a mentor, who had recently received a book deal for her own take on You’ve Got Mail: Flirty Little Secret). She told me that several editors had mentioned having an issue with the way her character finds out, noting that it felt manipulative once he knew and didn’t tell her.
So…I went back to the drawing board (or rather, Microsoft Word) and rewrote the entire scene where Lucy is waiting to meet Gatsby’s Ghost in person.
But, I thought it might be fun to share with you the original scene, where Logan actually knows he’s going to meet Island Girl and then is shocked to find Lucy waiting. Keep in mind this was never professionally edited, so please excuse any errors.
Here it is . . .
LOGAN
Awaking the morning of the 10th, Logan felt like everything about Heron Isle was a mistake. Taking the job. Offering to help Lucy. Talking to Mildred with Marty. And definitely asking Island Girl to meet.
What if she was at the meeting last night and already hated him? He was pretty sure more people there did than didn’t.
By lunch, he would have canceled on her if he’d had her number or any way of communicating with her in a more timely manner than leaving a note in the borrowing box. The whole thing was ridiculous. He’d lost his mind. Why was he wasting time meeting a pen pal instead of figuring out how he was going to get this project done and redeem his career?
When he simply couldn’t sit at the conference room table in city hall any longer, he went outside to walk. Pacing down on the docks, his sister answered the phone before he even registered he’d hit her speed dial button.
“Two calls in as many days. What is that island doing to you?”
“Don’t you ever just say hi?”
“Hello my darling brother. How are you doing? Why are you calling me? Again.”
“Didn’t you just complain yesterday that I don’t call you enough? Here I am. Calling you.” The real reason was that he never stayed in one place long enough to make friends, so his sister was his only confidant. “Did you talk to Nick?”
“Yeah,” her voice was muffled as she yelled something at one of the kids, “he can’t get any time off, but I think maybe the kids and I will take you up on a visit. I can tell I need to come down there and see what’s going on for myself.”
He smiled for the first time all day. He hadn’t realized how much he missed seeing his sister. “That’s great. Just tell me when and I’ll book your tickets.”
“Is this weekend too soon? Aidan has swim camp after that, and then we’re watching Nick’s sister’s kids while her and her husband go away for their anniversary.”
He really should spend the weekend preparing for the next community forum, but he’d just have to work harder this week so he could take the weekend off. “No, that’s perfect. I’ll get it booked when I get back to my office.” A pelican glided gracefully over the water in front of him, swooping up just before the docks to sit on top of a piling. Maybe he’d bring the kids down to the docks to feed the pelicans. He’d watched the fisherman do it when they came in for the afternoons and had bait to spare.
“Now tell me what’s really going on.” His sister’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I can hear it in your voice. Something is stressing you out. Did your community forum not go well last night?”
He let out a laugh. “No, it did not go well at all. Lucy and I had a little misunderstanding, and by the end of the meeting she had the whole town ready to pull out their pitchforks.”
“Hmm, too soon to be having a lover’s quarrel. Can you patch it up?”
“I told you it’s not like that. But I do need to figure out how to get the town on board with some of my ideas. It’s fine though. I’ll figure it out. I always do.” He hesitated, debating whether to tell Carly about Island Girl. She’d told him what to say when he asked Sally Sherman to the 9th grade dance, his first real date. Then she’d helped him plan an elaborate prom invitation for Tory Johnson his junior year. Maybe if she’d been around to help him with his later girlfriends his relationships would have gone better.
“There is this other thing.” He paced to the end of the dock and then turned to head back to the other end.
“What kind of thing?”
“A thing with a woman. Or at least I think it’s a woman.” He thought back through all the notes. It was for sure a woman, he just didn’t know if she was 60 or 16. Although she used “girl” in her name, it was clear from her notes she was more mature than a teenager.
“You think it’s a woman? What does that mean?”
Logan proceeded to tell his sister everything about Island Girl and the books and notes they’d left for each other.
“Omigosh, I wish I was there now!” He hadn’t heard his sister this excited since she’d called the last time she was pregnant to tell him it was a girl. “It’s like You’ve Got Mail. Wait! The bookstore owner! What if it’s her?” She was practically shrieking in his ear.
“No. It is not Lucy. She owns the bookstore. Why would she support the borrowing box? Besides, this woman knows way too much about baseball. Lucy probably couldn’t tell a baseball from a football. She’s not the sporty type.”
“Okay, so it’s not Lucy. Do you have any other candidates? It’s a small town, right?”
He thought through everyone who’d been at the meetings, the business owners he’d met, the Rotary Club, the servers and hostesses in the restaurants. It could be anyone. “I don’t think it’s anyone I’ve met.”
After assuring him he hadn’t been completely crazy to suggesting meeting Island Girl, Carly made him promise he’d call that evening and tell her about what happened. How bad could it be? He didn’t have to stay long, and it wasn’t like this was a date or anything. He was simply meeting a pen pal. It was a totally normal thing.
Except it felt like it might be so much more than that.
#
Logan arrived half an hour early and scouted out the area. He wanted a spot where he could see Island Girl before she could see him. Then he’d be prepared when she approached.
After looking at the benches from several different angles, he realized the only way he’d be able to see her from the front would be from the docks that extended from the marina toward the beach. There were enough sailboats and fishing boats parked this time of day it would be easy to hide behind them and watch for her to arrive without being noticed. She’d probably be 50 yards away, but he’d be able to see enough. Bringing binoculars had seemed like overkill. It wasn’t like he was going to just leave her sitting there alone if she wasn’t what he expected.
What did he expect anyway? He shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow. It was nuts. The whole thing was crazy. Why did he feel compelled to meet this person?
There was just something about her. Based on books alone, he had more in common with her than his last three girlfriends put together. But this wasn’t a date. He wasn’t looking to make things romantic. He just needed to satisfy his curiosity and maybe he’d even make a new friend he could have actual conversations with instead of exchanging cryptic notes.
He went back to where he’d been pacing on the dock earlier in the afternoon and pretended to be preoccupied with admiring the vessels. Tourists often walked the docks, checking out the boats and yachts that pulled into port with their shiny hulls and fun names like Best of Boat Worlds and Asleep at the Reel.
A teenage couple was sitting at the middle bench eating ice cream, but the other two benches remained open. He checked his watch. Three minutes to go.
Carrying the copy of The Only Rule Is It Has To Work, he moved it from one hand to the other as walked down the dock again toward The Waterway Cafe and away from the beach. When he turned around to pace back down the dock again, he noticed a woman approaching the first bench. Her back was to him, but her hair was short light. He could tell by her hunched shoulders and the way she carried herself she was older. Something in the tone of Island Girl‘s letters made him picture her younger—after all, she still called herself a “girl”—but maybe a sweet old grandmother type was just the kind of pen pal he needed. It had been a long time since his grandparents had all passed.
He studied her as she lowered herself slowly onto the bench. Island Girl mentioned watching the Braves on television with her father as a kid. Major League Baseball had been televised since the late 1930s, and the Braves were one of the oldest franchises, starting in Boston in the 1870s and moving to Milwaukee in the 50s before settling in Atlanta in the 60s. He knew because his dad had grown up a fan in Wisconsin before the team relocated and he changed loyalties to root for the Brewers. He wracked his brain for other clues in her letters. Could she be the older lady on the bench?
Looking at his watch again, he knew he needed to make a decision. She might leave if she thought he wasn’t going to show, and he didn’t want to be rude. She looked like a sweet lady.
Logan was walking down the dock to take the split that went back toward downtown and the sidewalk when he spotted a woman with her head down wearing a Braves hat heading toward the sidewalk from the opposite direction. Plenty of people wore Braves hats around here, but what were the odds they’d be headed toward the benches at this exact moment? She was short and slender in a short sleeve navy shirt and jeans. The hat was pulled down so low, shading her face, that he didn’t recognize her at first. Then his heart and his legs stopped at the exact same moment. It was Lucy.
Heart pounding in his ears, he slid behind the last sailboat parked at the docks before he would be exposed out in the open. She’d made the turn toward the beach now without looking in his direction. No. It couldn’t be Lucy. He’d never once heard her mention baseball, or any sport for that matter. And the borrowing box made no sense. She owned the only bookstore in town. It had to just be a coincidence.
Lucy sat on the bench the furthest from the docks, the teenage couple and older lady still occupying the other two benches. Logan looked back to the first lady again. It had to be her, right? That made more sense than Lucy.
Just as he noticed Lucy checking her watch, an elderly gentleman sat on the first bench with the lady and it was clear they were together by the way she placed a hand on his knee. Logan’s eyes darted back to Lucy. She was smoothing her hair under the side of her hat, tucking a strand behind her ear the way she did when she was nervous.
He debated calling Carly for advice, but he knew how she would react. It was almost as if she had willed it into being Lucy. He ran a hand through his hair, the sweat from his forehead no doubt mussing his usual orderly style. What was he going to do?
He looked down at the book in his other hand and decided to stash it behind one of the dock pilings. He needed to scope out the situation better.
Logan tried as casually as he could to walk down the sidewalk toward the benches, looking at the ocean as if he hadn’t noticed Lucy on the last bench. With his sunglasses to shield his eyes, he tried to catch a glimpse of Lucy without her realizing he was looking at her. It was clear she’d noticed him and was suddenly pretending to look in any direction but his.
As he got closer to her bench he faked surprise. “Lucy. Fancy meeting you here.”
She frowned, looking around as if someone might swoop in and save her at any moment. “Hello, Logan.”
He pointed to her hat. “I didn’t realize you were a baseball fan.”
She touched the hat self-consciously. “Yeah, my dad loved baseball.” She searched the surroundings again, clearly waiting for someone else to arrive.
He hoped the wince didn’t show on his face. He’d read the notes enough times he could still see the line in her swooping cursive. My dad loved the game and raised me to do the same. Go Braves!
“My dad was a Braves fan too, but that was before they left Milwaukee. Who knew? We do have something in common.” He flashed her his best smile. After all, she had commented on his appearance and his dimple before. She couldn’t entirely hate him just because she thought he was interfering in Mildred and Marty’s business. However, the look on her face said otherwise, like she’d just eaten a sour grape.
“We are nothing alike.” She crossed her arms, looking back toward the sidewalk from downtown.
“If you didn’t constantly jump to conclusions about me and my intentions, you might find we have a lot in common.” He started counting things off on his fingers. “We both grew up in small towns. We both love historic buildings. We were both raised by Braves fans.”
“Yes, well apparently the similarities end there. I don’t try and pit husbands and wives against one another or tear up other people’s towns and then leave them to deal with the consequences.” Her eyes sliced through him, her words clearly intended to cut him down to size.
He was still trying to square this version of her with the one he’d gotten to see while he’d been helping her with her financials, much less the woman he’d expected to be on the other end of the letters in the borrowing box. “Can I sit?” He gestured toward the empty expanse of bench next to her.
She protectively placed a hand over the spot next to her. “You may not. I’m expecting someone.”
His heart was banging into his chest. That was it. Island Girl was Lucy. Turning toward the ocean so she couldn’t read his face, he composed himself and then looked around. No one else was anywhere near them except the couples on the other two benches. “I’ll just sit with you while you wait.”
She scooted down the bench as far away from him as she could, angling her body toward downtown so she could watch for the person she thought was coming.
“Who are you waiting for? Pam? Pete? Maybe the infamous Trish?”
She turned to scowl at him, a deep wrinkle forming between her eyes, her lips pursed. “None of your business.”
“Oh.” He mocked surprise. “Maybe this is a bit more personal. A date perhaps?”
“No, it is not a date. I’m just meeting someone.” A man with a small tote bag began walking down the sidewalk in their direction, and as she caught him out of the corner of her eye she straightened up, sitting taller. “Please leave.” She hissed. “Haven’t you done enough damage for one week?”
The man veered away from the benches and walked down into the sand in front of them, pulling a towel from his bag and putting in headphones before he sat with his back to them. Logan could feel Lucy deflate next to him, sighing.
He knew he was breaking confidences, but since there didn’t seem to be much that stayed secret on Heron Isle for long, he decided to take his chances. “Just so you know, Mildred came to me. She wants to spend more time with their daughter and their new grandchild. She asked if I could come up with a number high enough to convince Marty to let the restaurant go. They’re both exhausted, and she wants to retire. She was going to tell him as soon as I had a final number.”
Lucy’s expression softened, although she still looked skeptical. “Didn’t you tell me it was all confidential?”
He shrugged. “It is, but I trust you.”
She looked out at the ocean, as if trying to decide whether she believed him. He followed her gaze, watching a pelican as it dive-bombed the water’s glossy surface, no doubt hunting for dinner, and then flapped its giant wings to bring itself airborne again. There was a slight breeze on the salty air, and it made her hair dance around her face and over her shoulders. He had the strongest urge to reach out and touch her hair but forced his eyes back out to the ocean.
Island Girl was Lucy. He still couldn’t believe it. There was obviously so much he hadn’t known about her, probably still didn’t know about her. Would never know. The notes would stop when Lucy found out he was Gatsby’s Ghost.
She looked at her watch again and then down the sidewalk toward town.
“Your friend late?”
“Maybe I misunderstood something. He wouldn’t be late.”
“Oh, so it is a he.” He didn’t know why, but he wanted to know what she thought about Gatsby’s Ghost, so he was baiting her. Why did she agree to meet him? She didn’t seem like the kind of person who took many chances.
“It’s hard to explain.” Her shoulders drooped as she slumped back against the bench.
“Try me.” He angled toward her, putting an arm on the back of the bench, his fingertips almost reaching her shoulder.
She studied his face, starting to open her mouth and then closing it again.
“Blind date? Someone set you up?”
“Not exactly.”
“What then?”
“If I tell you, will you please just leave?”
“Yes, scout’s honor.” He held up a hand in the scout’s three-finger pledge.
She buried her face in her hands before parting them just enough to see his face. “Have you seen the book borrowing box in the town square?”
He hesitated like he was thinking. “Oh yeah, I think so. Shaped like a house, right?”
“I sort of met him through there.” She closed her hands back up so he couldn’t see her face.
“You met him at the book borrowing box? What’s so bad about that?”
“No. I didn’t meet him at the box. Not really.” She sighed. “When people leave a book in the box, they write a note to go inside telling the next person why they might like it. Makes it a little more personal than your average book borrowing box. And, well, we’ve sort of been leaving each other books for weeks now and struck up a bit of a friendship through our notes.”
He pursed his lips, nodding. “I see. And why the Braves hat? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a hat.”
She pulled the bill down lower over her forehead. “He used a baseball analogy in one of the letters and I told him I’m a Braves fan. I thought it would help him find me.”
“And he said he’d meet you here on these benches?”
She nodded. “But I guess he’s not going to show.”
“Maybe something came up.”
“Or he took one look at me and ran.” Her voice was quiet now, sad.
He couldn’t let her think it was her fault. Looking out at the waves as they crashed against the shore so he didn’t have to look her in the yes, he said, “No, that’s not possible. I’m sure he has a good reason.”
“It was just silly anyway. He’s probably just passing through like everyone else.”
He could hear the hurt in her voice and he thought of what the mayor had told him about her mother leaving. A long silence ensued as they both gazed toward the horizon. He could only think of one thing he could tell her to try and show he could relate.
“Remember how I told you that the newspapers didn’t tell the whole story about what happened to me in San Diego?”
She turned to meet his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, my side of the story is that I thought I’d met the love of my life. I’d even bought a ring, I was just waiting until we could celebrate the new project getting green lit to ask her because I hadn’t had a lot of time to spend with her as we went through the final phase of government approvals.” He paused, taking a deep breath. He hadn’t told anyone except Carly what happened next.
“Then I came home one night to find Catherine in bed with another man.” He heard Lucy gasp next to him, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it. “This particular man happened to be the son of her father’s arch nemesis. Your basic Romeo and Juliet plot, I guess. Except Catherine had worked out exactly how she could get her father to accept Joe. She’d made sure I would catch them together and be the one to break up with her. She ran to her father, playing the victim. She somehow convinced him that I’d driven her to Joe because I didn’t pay her enough attention.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I still don’t understand the mental gymnastics she went through to pull it off. All I know is that in the end her father blamed me for her being with Joe. And, well—” he sighed, “—you know the rest.”
Lucy was quiet next to him. He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he watched the ocean instead of her face.
She surprised him when she broke the silence. “I was engaged once. Did I ever tell you that?”
He turned back to look at her, but now she was the one staring out at the ocean. “No.” He didn’t feel right pressing her for more.
“Yeah, he was assigned here for work for a few years, but after we got engaged he got a job offer in Chicago.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?” Obviously she owned the bookstore, but she could have sold it.
She spread her arms out in front of her. “Heron Isle is my home. It’s where I want to be. I know it might not seem like much to someone like you who’s lived in places like San Diego and Phoenix and St. Louis, but it’s enough for me. I’m happy here.”
He thought about where he’d lived that he’d been the happiest. Certainly, there had been days or nights where he’d had a nice time at a party or gone on a great first date and felt happy. He’d even enjoyed his time with Catherine while it lasted. But all those times had nothing to do with where he was. Nowhere had ever felt like home, not even his own hometown.
She sighed. “So, he moved to Chicago and I stayed here where my best prospect is some stranger who writes me notes in books.” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s fine though. I don’t need someone else to make me complete. This place, the people here, they make feel whole.”
He envied her, the connections she had with people. He never stayed anywhere long enough to develop those kinds of friendships, but it was probably for the best since he’d only have to leave them to move on to the next job. It had been fun to have a pen pal for a little bit though, to connect with someone through books. He’d read more in the past few weeks than he had in the past year.
Logan turned to face her. “Hey, why were you leaving books in the borrowing box anyway? Isn’t that sort of competition for your store?”
“The borrowing box was my idea. After the library closed, there was nowhere for people to get books for free. There shouldn’t be barriers to reading. Everyone needs the opportunity to learn or to escape or just to laugh. A book can understand you when no one else can.” She turned and smiled at him as she got up from the bench. “I think I’m going to call it a night. Thanks for keeping me company.” She paused, searching his face before she continued. “And for telling me about Mildred.”
As he watched her walk away, he put his head down in his palms. He was in big trouble. He was completely smitten with Lucy Sullivan, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
***
And there you have it! That’s how Logan originally found out Lucy was Island Girl. In addition to changing that scene, I had to change many of the scenes that followed so there was a good reason (he was leaving) for Logan not to tell Lucy he was Gatsby’s Ghost so it wouldn’t seem manipulative.
Hopefully you enjoyed the way the book ultimately turned out, but I still kind of love this deleted scene!
