Promises Made- Promises Kept

by Jaclyn Rosamond

  He leaned forward, face intent. ‘Do you miss him?’

  I hesitated, mouth twisted, while I formulated a response.

  ‘Yes and no.’ I flashed him a quick glance. ‘You met the man I married last year and I thought we were happy.’ My mind drifted back.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And we did talk about all sorts of stuff before we were married. I was never aware of his devious nature until it hit me in the face.’ I hesitated. ‘There’s something I didn’t tell you in Alaska. It seemed too sleazy to mention. But I think you may already have guessed some of it. Do you remember our last night at the resort?’

  Compassion in his gaze, he gave a brief nod. His eyes told me he’d known something.

  ‘Yeah, that awful tramp, Mona.’ I moderated my language, uncertain of his foul language scruples. ‘I found pornographic photos of her, taken by my charming husband. On our honeymoon, no less. There were other photos. Not all of them of Bianca and Mona.’ I turned away, mortified.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  I couldn’t look at him.

  ‘To answer your question “do I miss him?”. No. Of course not. It took a while, but when he all but admitted to marrying me for my house, all bets were off. Everything he’d done was a twisted lie. I miss the man I thought I was marrying, and found out, painfully, that he doesn’t exist. I still feel all kinds of an idiot.’ I belatedly realized tears were cascading down my face.

  ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, Rose.’ He was out of his armchair and wrapping me in a hug in a split second. ‘Me and my big mouth.’

  I sobbed on his shoulder, great heaving sobs, wetting his shirt and sniffling hard. He pushed a hanky into my hands.

  ‘Sorry, I thought I’d finished crying,’ I whispered, blowing my nose.

  ‘Don’t be sorry.’ He stroked my back.

  My tears gradually subsided and I lay limp against him, wrung out. Apart from Shona and Mum, who’d given me copious hugs in recent months, this was the first time I’d broken down with anyone else.

  I eased back. ‘Thanks Cal,’ I said with a watery half-smile, mopping up stray tears with the now sodden hanky. ‘Sorry, about your shirt.’

  He glanced at his damp shoulder and shrugged. ‘No harm done.’ He tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear. ‘You okay now?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Good, cos I have pins and needles in both legs, so excuse me while I jump around to get the circulation back.’ He grinned, wobbling to his feet.

  I giggled as he hopped around. ‘Idiot.’

  ‘I know, but I made you laugh. I’d call that progress.’

  ‘How about you?’ I asked. ‘Your story’s so different from mine. I have no ongoing contact with Eddie’s family, of course. How much contact do you have with Lily’s family?’

  It was his turn to sigh as he threw himself back in the armchair. ‘I still see them from time to time. I saw them last week when they were visiting my parents, and they expect me to return each year to visit her grave with them.’

  I tried to hide a moue of dismay. ‘Every year?’

  ‘Yeah, not my favorite time of year. Or theirs. Their grief is like a life sentence. They had thirty years of her life, whilst I only had five. Her mother, Alice, often reminds me of how she carried her for nine months, then watched her grow from baby to toddler, through school and into adulthood. Part of her resents the five years I had, even though rationally she knows that’s unreasonable.’ He lifted an eloquent hand. ‘For her it’s still very raw. Grief doesn’t always make you logical. Her husband, Phil, is her rock. He struggles with Lily’s loss, but manages his own sorrow by taking care of his wife.’ He hunched over, staring at his hands.

  ‘I know Alice doesn’t mean to belittle my grief, but it’s as if she doesn't think it counts, and yet, at the same time, she seems to feel I shouldn’t move on either.’ He took a deep breath. ‘When I see them it’s a reminder of sadness I don’t need anymore. And,’ he looked at me, ‘I could do with a big dose of, if not happiness, then positivity instead.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, tone gentle. ‘I may not be able to help with the happiness part. But on the plus side you did like my hot chocolate and I have been known to be a good listener from time to time.’

  With a reluctant grin, he said, ‘Thanks for listening to me. It’s good to talk to someone completely separate from my past.’

  ‘That’s a two-way street and you’ve listened to me, so thank you.’ I hesitated for a moment, weighing my words. ‘Do you mind me asking you something?’

  ‘What’s that, little caterpillar?’ His eyes were teasing, but guarded.

  I winced at his nickname for me, but perhaps now wasn’t the time to tell him.

  ‘You asked me if I miss Eddie, and I don’t, even though it’s still painful.’ I hesitated, took a breath and plunged in, ‘I know you miss Lily, of course you do, but are you ready to move on?’

  He regarded me in silence for a long minute. Had I overstepped a boundary? I wanted to jump in and babble an apology, but waited. What could he do? Tell me to mind my own business, of course, but I didn’t want to ruin the rapport we were building. I waited, almost holding my breath.

  He sighed. ‘Maybe.’ He stopped, dropping his head back against the armchair, eyes contemplating the ceiling.

  I waited for more.

  ‘You know,’ he began, ‘in my teenage years I was a bit of a bastard with girlfriends.’ His eyes dropped to mine, shamefaced and a bit smug. ‘I was never short of a girlfriend and I didn’t really give any thought to their feelings when I broke up with them. Their tears just embarrassed me. My comeuppance came when I was twenty-one and had fallen hard for Amanda, a beautiful and brilliant student at uni.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘We had a good time, but she wasn’t that interested in me, she was much more focused on a career as an architect and told me she had no intention of letting a man get in her way.’

  ‘What happened?’ A career-focused woman had chosen to ditch this gentle giant? Couldn’t they have worked together?

  My friends and I would call him “a keeper”.

  ‘She dumped me.’ He shook his head, remembering. ‘Without a backward glance, either. My turn for a broken heart. That’s when I realized I’d been a bit of a cad with women.’

  ‘A “cad?”’ I teased. ‘Cal, who uses that word these days?’

  He laughed. ‘You can take the piss, if you like. But it’s true, up until that point I’d been a heartless prick.

  ‘Almost a year later I started dating again. Cautiously. For two reasons. First, I didn’t want to be responsible for hurting a woman again and, second, I needed to protect myself.’ He flashed a smile that faded instantly. ‘Women thought I was too intense. I wanted too much from every relationship and found out not every woman wanted to share that much. I don’t want half-hearted, I want more.’ He stopped, pushing a frustrated hand through his hair. ‘I’m not explaining myself very well.’

  Touched, I wished I could reach out and hold him. I could well see the intensity he meant and I understood. But if I reached out, wishing for his intensity, my own fragile emotions would be at risk. The next man had to want me, not yearn for some other woman to light up his life.

  ‘I know what you mean. From what you said, you had that with Lily. I’ve never had that level of sharing with any man. I don’t think I even knew to look for it with the handful of men I’ve dated.’

  ‘Mm, mm.’ He nodded, preoccupied.

  I suppressed a sigh. My response had gone unheard.

  ‘To answer your question,’ he said, snapping out of wool-gathering. ‘I believe I’m ready to move on, but I don’t think I could ever settle for less than I had before, but it’ll be a hard act to follow. That’s my best answer.’ He lifted his hands and dropped them.

  ‘How about you?’ He leaned forward, eyes intent. ‘You don’t miss your ex. Are you ready to move on?’

  ‘A new relationship? No.’ I shook my head. ‘A few dates? Yes. I can do that. But I’m gri
eving for making such a huge marital mistake. For me it would have been a forever commitment. And I chose poorly, which puts my judgement in question.’

  ‘Not every man’s a jerk.’

  ‘You’re right, I know. I guess I need time. I wasted too much precious time trying to connect with someone who had no interest in that sort of commitment, and I need space to re-evaluate what I want.’

  ‘Love is rarely wasted. Don’t waste time regretting that. That it didn’t last wasn’t something you could anticipate, especially not when you add in a determined seduction by another woman.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have succumbed,’ I stated, matter-of-factly.

  ‘No, I’m strictly a one-woman man. When I love someone, it’s for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Then your next wife had better deserve you, Caleb Warwick, because you deserve nothing less.’

  He acknowledged my statement with a brief nod, flushing as he looked away.

  I’d embarrassed him and I was at a loss for a moment. I solved it by changing the subject.

  I leaned forward, lightening the mood. ‘Listen to us; we’re all serious, let’s do something about lunch.’

  He stood up and held out his hand. ‘C’mon, I’m taking you out for lunch. I know this great little Mexican restaurant in the markets, with genuine Mexican food, not a fast food outlet.’

  I took his proffered hand and he hauled me off the sofa. ‘God, Cal, is there anywhere you don’t know? Hang on, let me grab my bag.’

  I did a quick makeup repair job before we headed out into the sunshine.

  Lunch was hilarious, with Cal cracking jokes and me finding everything funny. With such good company I felt a lightness inside I hadn’t experienced with a man. Not that I’d had many men to compare to.

  Cal was amazed to find I hadn’t tried much Mexican food before.

  ‘Surely it’s not that surprising,’ I protested mildly. ‘My mum experimented on us kids and her long-suffering husband. We taste tested whatever phase she was going through at the time. Italian was popular. French cooking was too rich and aggravated her gall bladder. She switched to healthy Asian cooking most of the time, but we had a couple of Mexican dinners,’ here I leaned across the table, lowering my voice, ‘and Dad called it ‘fart food’. All those beans. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in court.’

  Cal roared with laughter. ‘I can see why. It certainly keeps me regular.’ He winked.

  ‘Huh. Thanks for sharing…I think.’

  His mouth twitched. ‘Your parents are more adventurous than mine. In a thousand years I couldn’t get my father to eat so-called foreign food. He still thinks rice is a dessert, not a savory dish. He’s a dinosaur.’

  ‘Surely they’re not that old? Are they? What about your mum? What’s she like?’

  ‘No, Dad’s not far off retirement, he is old for his age. Not so, my mother, she’s cool. She has a finger in every pie. I swear she wrings twenty-four hours out of twelve hours every day. She’s head of a family medical practice, leads women’s groups at church, raised four children and enjoys her two grandchildren. She knits, sews, cooks and gardens. She’s amazing.’

  I watched his animated face, surmising he was close to his mother.

  ‘Wow. She sounds like superwoman. You love her a lot, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I do.’ He dropped his eyes to his hands. ‘She helped me through dark days, maybe as much as Leah.’ He neatly changed the topic. ‘What about your parents?’

  Given his father’s profession I’d love to have asked him how his father had responded to Lily’s death, nevertheless I accepted the change of subject.

  ‘My parents are great. My Dad’s Mr Sobersides all day in court. When he gets home he just wants to chill out with a beer and Mum, and maybe once a week watch a good movie. They’ve got a home cinema in the basement and have get-togethers with their friends once a month.’ Thinking about them made me smile. ‘As for Mum, well, she’d never have accepted the role of being a wife. I bet our two mothers would get on well. Mum’s a well-known horticulturalist and lectures at an agricultural college. She’s also in demand as a lecturer around Britain and overseas on permaculture and living off your own land.’

  ‘Anne Gardener?’ Cal asked, surprised.

  My eyebrows shot up. ‘You’ve heard of her?’

  ‘I most certainly have.’ He sat upright in his seat. ‘I have her book on sustainable living. So does my Mum. Her models on an eco-lifestyle have been inspiring.’

  ‘Mum would be chuffed to hear that. Have you put any of her suggestions into practice?’

  His face fell. ‘Yes, when I had a house. Lily and I were busy converting to solar-powered heating. We’d installed water tanks for the next time we had a drought. We’d just planned a second vegetable garden, and then she got sick. After that nothing mattered much.’

  ‘Sorry, Cal.’ I covered his hand in mine. ‘Mum would be thrilled to know people at every level find her books helpful. What about your mother? Has she put any of that stuff into action?’

  He nodded, and his hands relaxed under mine. I sat back, allowing him space. What a damned shame I hadn’t met him years ago, before Lily and before Eddie – because he was the first man I’d come across who was proactively interested in things I liked – gardening, the environment, sustainable living. Other things?

  ‘She’s turned the vicarage garden into a productive fruit and vegetable patch using organic principles from your Mum’s books. She putters in the garden when she can. But her options are limited, because, even though she’s renovated the gardens, she can’t really change anything about the vicarage. They’ve lived there for twenty-two years, but it will always belong to the church, not my parents.’

  I hadn’t thought of that. ‘God, Cal, I’d hate to live forever in a house that wasn’t mine. When I eventually buy somewhere again, I want to be able to do whatever I like to it, to make it really mine.’ I frowned. ‘The fruit and veg garden I’d built up will be a dismal weed patch these days. Eddie wouldn’t tolerate anything reminding him of me.’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t really care anymore.’

  ‘Your turn will come again. Mine, too. When I’m over living out of a suitcase I’ll choose somewhere to live, unearth your mother’s book, and start over. Maybe you can give me advice.’

  ‘That’d be nice, but if you’ve found someone else by then, I’d be in the way.’ I thought about the woman he’d met. ‘Have you seen that woman again? The one you told me about?’ Maybe I didn’t really want to know, but curiosity overrode good sense.

  He flushed, avoiding my eyes. ‘Yes, I have Miss Nosy Parker. She’s as lovely as I remember her, and she’s no longer attached to her husband, but alas, hasn’t noticed me at all. Yet.’

  I blushed a brilliant scarlet. ‘Sorry, Cal.’ I looked down, fiddling with my spoon. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’ Or me. Crap, he must be really touchy about this.

  My blush faded and I felt awkward. ‘I find that hard to believe. You kind of stand out in a crowd.’

  His lips thinned. ‘Thanks for your vote of confidence. But you can’t force someone to fall in love with you. I won’t give up hope. Not yet. I’ll wait. For a while, at least.’

  So, now I knew. Leah had given me a heads up. I’d listened, and hoped for a different outcome. And now Cal seconded it. What an absolute sodding shame. Here I was despite trying to convince myself otherwise, falling, uselessly, for a man who appeared to be everything a woman could want. Fiercely loyal, ready to commit himself, wanting many things in life that I also valued. But with another woman.

  Crap. Double crap.

  With all these fabulous attributes – not to mention his handsome face and gorgeous body – his heart had gone elsewhere.

  His words silenced me. The deafening silence became painful. My mind sought desperately for a witty word to break the impasse. Cal, when I stole a glance, scowled deeply at his empty plate.

  A waitress chose that moment to bowl up, menus in hand. ‘Can I ge
t you tea, coffee, the dessert menu?’ She eyed Cal determinedly, proffering a menu.

  Cal raised his eyebrows at me. I shook my head.

  ‘No thanks, just the check.’

  She flounced off. I raced past our awkwardness and leaned across the table. ‘I have an idea for dessert. It involves chocolate.’

  He grinned, composure returning. ‘A woman after my own heart.’

  Interesting choice of words.

  When the bill was settled, with a little wrangling over who should pay, I linked my arm through Cal’s and led him down the street to a chocolatier’s store and cafe.

  ‘“The Chocolate Goose”, interesting name. Cal sniffed the air. You can smell this one from miles away.’ Moments later we stood outside a diamond-paned glass window, gazing in at sophisticated gift boxes ready to parcel up any type of chocolate treat. Inside, old-fashioned wooden shelves were crammed with their signature striped gold and cream boxes. The heady aroma of chocolate drew us like a magnet. The cafe had a few spare tables as we stepped inside.

  Glass cabinets displayed every chocolate dessert you could imagine, but, given that we’d both eaten a large lunch, I turned to him. ‘Do you trust me?’

  ‘Implicitly.’ He grinned.

  ‘Okay, vamoose, go and loiter somewhere you can’t hear me.’

  He lingered by the window as Gina, the chocolate chef, discussed with me the merits of a variety of hand-made chocolate truffles. I chose a mouth-watering selection of truffles and handed over a princely sum for the privilege.

  ‘Come and sit,’ I commanded, taking a seat near the window. ‘Hot chocolate is on its way.’

  He sat opposite, eyes avid. ‘This is like every kid’s chocolate heaven.’

  ‘Not so.’ I disagreed. ‘This is far too sophisticated for kiddies. This is every chocoholic’s piece of heaven.’

  A waitress delivered hot chocolate, and a carafe of water to wash down sugary excesses.

  He eyed the box of truffles. ‘Don’t keep me in suspense, which delights have you picked?’