Just a Little Promise

by Tracie Puckett

  “Julie,” he said, holding his hand in the air to silence me. “It’s okay.”

  I blinked repeatedly for a few, long seconds. “It is?”

  “Do I wish you’d respected my wish and let me deal with it on my own terms? Yes.” He pushed his fingers back through his hair and then stepped away from the bars. He walked over and squatted in front of me, taking my hands. “But if the tables had been turned, I probably would’ve done the same thing, kid.”

  “Really?” I asked, relieved that he wasn’t yelling at me or scolding me for not minding my own business. Instead, he was holding my hands, caressing my fingers, and looking at me with nothing but love.

  He finally pulled himself up and sat back on the bench next to me. I leaned over and rested my head in his lap, staring out at the opposite wall. He combed his fingers through my hair. The soft stroke of his hand calmed my nerves. My heart found a rhythmic balance for the first time since he held me at the Fall Ball. My breathing finally steadied. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the touch of his legs beneath my cheek and his fingers in my hair.

  And I don’t know how long we sat there, neither one of us speaking, but it must’ve been a while. Because before I knew it, Charlie was nudging me awake.

  Sunday December 16

  Luke was gone by the time Charlie retrieved me from the holding cell. I don’t know how he slipped away without waking me, or how he got out without a key, but he was definitely gone. My guess was that Detective Bruno helped him escape, but I couldn’t figure out how I’d missed it. Either way, I was glad he wasn’t there. There was no telling how Charlie would’ve reacted to finding me and Luke locked in the same cell together.

  Now, a day later, I hadn’t heard from Luke. It seemed like things were back to normal again.

  No calls.

  No texts.

  No Luke.

  Apple cinnamon candles were burning all around the house; it was my mom’s favorite scent this time of year. And since the anniversary of my parents’ death was approaching quickly, I’d been feeling very nostalgic as the days went on.

  “It’s okay, Julie. It takes a few times to get it right,” Matt said, placating me. I doubted it ever took him more than one time to master anything in the kitchen. But the first time I pulled mom’s secret recipe holiday cookies out of the oven, they were beyond saving. The bottoms were burnt black, but the tops were doughy and uncooked.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, Matty,” I said, dumping the cookies into the garbage. “Mom never ruined a batch—”

  “Let me help you,” he said, coming over to my side of the counter.

  “No,” I said, reaching for the flour and sugar. “I have to do this.”

  I stared at the recipe for another minute. It amazed me how much I hated baking. Mom always loved being in the kitchen; she and Matt loved each other’s company during the holidays. She wouldn’t want to see me fretting over something so simple. She’d want someone enjoying her recipes as much as she did, so I nodded and looked to my cousin.

  “You do it.”

  I pushed the recipe across the counter until it stopped in front of Matt.

  “I thought you wanted to—”

  “This is your area of expertise,” I said. “I’ll just keep wasting ingredients until I get it right, and God knows that could be forever.”

  “Really?” he asked, flipping through the handwritten cookbook.

  “It’s all yours,” I said. “Honestly, I have no use for it.”

  Matt’s face lit up. He pressed an obligatory kiss to my cheek and darted toward the refrigerator for eggs.

  I left the kitchen, shaking my head. I passed Charlie in the living room and nodded, but didn’t say a word as I headed for the front door.

  “Where are you going?”

  I stopped, already holding the door knob in my hand, and turned back.

  “To see Derek,” I said. “He’s been in a bit of a funk lately. I just want to make sure he’s okay. I really think we could use each other’s company right about now.” Not much more than a year ago, his father committed a terrible crime that robbed me of both my parents. That night, we both became victims. It just seemed natural to be with someone who truly understood that pain. “So, if it’s okay?”

  Charlie nodded and looked back at his paper.

  A short walk across the lawn later, I was standing on Derek’s front porch, knocking away. I waited in silence for two full minutes.

  Nothing.

  It wasn’t like him to ignore a knock, so I assumed he was out. His car wasn’t in the driveway, and he almost never parked in the garage. I rang the doorbell—in case my knock wasn’t loud enough—but still no response. It didn’t dawn on me until the second ring that Elvis wasn’t barking. The dog always guarded the door when Derek was out. Wherever Derek was, Elvis must have gone too; there wasn’t a single sound coming from inside the house.

  Shrugging, I stepped down from the porch and walked to the garage. Looking through the small windows lining the top of the door, I immediately noticed it was empty. Not only was Derek’s blue Prius not parked inside, but the boxes that usually lined the far wall were also missing.

  I ran back up to the porch and started banging on the door.

  “Derek!” I yelled. “Derek! It’s Julie! Are you home?”

  I waited for a brief second and then ran to the window to peek inside. The house was empty. The few furnishings he had were no longer there. I hopped off the porch and dug up a spot in the flowerbed—where I’d once watched him hide a spare key—and retrieved it.

  I went back to the door, unlocking the bolt, and pushed it open.

  The reality of the emptiness stopped me dead in my tracks. My stomach felt as hollow as the room I was looking at. The house was vacant; there was nothing left.

  “Derek?” I asked, tears filling my eyes. “Hello?”

  My voice carried through the empty rooms, echoing off the naked walls.

  I walked slowly through each room.

  The living room… the kitchen… the bathroom… Hannah’s old bedroom—all empty.

  I turned the corner and faced the door at the end of the hall. Derek’s bedroom door was shut, but I didn’t have to open it to know what I would find. If the rest of the house was any indication, Derek’s room would be nothing but an empty void of space.

  I took slow steps to the final door, grasping the knob, and taking a long, deep breath. Tears filled my eyes as I braced myself for the emptiness. But when I opened the door, something suddenly caught my eye.

  There was a box; a small, pale blue shoebox, sitting in the middle of the hardwood floor. It was the only thing Derek had left.

  I stared at the box for what felt like an eternity. My heartbeat was gaining momentum by the second. I closed my eyes and thought back to a day I’d shared with Derek in this very room just weeks ago.

  “Get rid of the box, Derek,” I’d told him. “You are not defined by the things your family has done. I know who you are, and this isn’t you talking. That box… everything in it… it’s trash. You need to stop holding on to it. You need to move on. We both do.”

  Sitting on top of the box was a white envelope with my name scrolled neatly across the front. Taking slow breaths, I suppressed the tears that came to the surface. I walked to the center of the room and sat down next to the shoebox, picking up the envelope. I opened it carefully, scared of what the letter inside might say.

  Julie,

  I don’t have to tell you what you already know. If you’re reading this letter, you can already see that I’m gone.

  I wanted to say goodbye, but I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t come up with a good enough explanation, and I knew you’d never let me walk away unjustified.

  I had to leave Oakland; I couldn’t stay anymore. The guilt has become too much for me. This house… the memories… it haunts me every day. I have to find myself again, Julie. I have no choice. If I want to survive this pain, I have to move on.

  Yo
u were right. This box—and everything in it—is holding me back. I can’t keep living with the ghosts of my past. I have to put the past behind me now, and that includes you.

  Please understand that this isn’t personal. I care about you… so much. But I can’t face another day with the reminder of who I really am, or the places I’ve been. I can’t look in your eyes one more time and see the hurt and pain that my family caused.

  I need a new start… alone. Elvis is at the shelter; he’ll find a good home, I’m sure.

  I’m sorry to leave you in a lurch with the parade, but I have a world of faith in you. You’ll do great.

  Maybe someday we’ll meet again…. I hope that’s the case. But now isn’t the time. I need to follow my heart. And so do you.

  Thank you for being the friend I always needed,

  Derek

  p.s. I hope you find the happiness you’re searching for, with or without Luke.

  I read the letter for a second time and wiped away my tears. I buried my face in my hands and cried, letting my tears seep through my fingers and create a puddle on the floor.

  It was a pain I had yet to experience… the kind that I’d accused Lonnie of inflicting on his own son. It was the pain of being abandoned… by choice.

  Derek wasn’t really gone, but he had left.

  I dropped the letter to the floor and looked at the box.

  Why would he leave it here? What did he want me to do with it? I didn’t want those memories.

  I pulled the lid off the box and caught a sob in my throat.

  Ashes; he’d burned everything that he’d collected over the years. The pictures, the newspaper clippings, the suicide note his mother left… nothing but gray ash lining the bottom of the box.

  My heart ached as I stared at what was left of Derek’s room; there was nothing but four walls, a single window, and a box and envelope on the floor.

  It felt selfish to mourn after someone who’d intentionally left me behind, but somehow… I found the strength to smile. He was doing what he had to do. He finally trusted himself to be the person he wanted to be. It was the most admirable thing Derek had ever done.

  I picked up the box, the letter, and envelope, and carried them out of the room. I walked slowly through the house, taking the time to reminisce. As I stood at the front door, one foot already on the porch, I looked back in the house and nodded.

  “Thanks for the memories,” I whispered, finally stepping out and closing the door behind me.

  I kept the key; it didn’t belong in the ground.

  I wanted to keep it with me—as long as I had to— just in case I ever needed it.

  Just in case I ever did run into Derek again… so I could give it back to him… and so he would know he could always come back home. There would always be a place for him in Oakland… and he would always have a place in my heart.

  Chapter Five

  Saturday December 22

  I spent the better part of the week focusing on nothing but the parade. But without Derek, I found myself drowning. I thought I could do it without him, and I probably could have… if I still had Grace on my side. But I hadn’t heard from her since the day I confronted Lonnie at the diner.

  I’d promised the Oakland Celebration Committee that I could handle the finer details alone, and I wanted to stay true to my word. But there was always this little voice in the back of my head, criticizing every move I made. The voice, strangely enough, always sounded like Charlie’s.

  “Kara,” I said, motioning for her to climb aboard the float. “Can you take your position for just a second? I need to get an idea of where we’re at.”

  Kara, Matt’s new girlfriend, was the sweetest girl I’d ever met. She was Oakland High School’s Junior Class President, dance committee chair member, and a diplomatic representative in the Model UN. I still don’t know how their relationship sparked, but there’s no secret why she caught Matt’s eye. She was beautiful; 5’6, brunette hair, amber eyes, and a smile that could knock any guy off his feet. Furthermore, her amazing personality added to the charm. Just last spring she was voted the 2012 Oakland City Festival Queen. That, I’m sure, came with its own set of duties and obligations—one being a participant in the holiday parades.

  Kara climbed aboard her float and sat down on the throne. Bundled in her coat, scarves, gloves, and hat, she waved at the imaginary audience.

  “How’s it look?” she called down.

  “Perfect,” I said, giving her a thumbs up.

  Grace stood on the float next to Kara’s throne, strategically placing flowers on either side.

  Grace and I had been at the parade line-up since seven. It was now eight, and neither of us had spoken a word to the other. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume she was still angry that I’d provoked Lonnie… and I couldn’t blame her.

  Twenty minutes later, the marching band stepped into place. The flautists were adjusting their mouth pieces to tune their instruments in the cold wind. The drummers were goofing off, shoving each other in the back of the line. The rest of the band warmed up their instruments in a melodic scale.

  I glanced to the front of the line, where the Grand Marshal float sat, and watched as Luke climbed aboard. I finished giving instructions to the last of the group around me, and rushed over to the front of the line.

  “Hey,” I said, calling up to Luke on the float. “Lookin’ great!”

  “The float or me?” he asked, jiggling his eyebrows. He offered his hand to help pull me up. I accepted his gesture, cupping his hand in mine, and jumped up on the wagon-turned-parade float. Once I was standing next to him, he draped his arm over my shoulders and glanced back at the long line of cars and floats. “You’ve done an amazing job, Jules.”

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to tune out the marching band directly behind us. “I can’t stay. I have so much to do at the end of the line. Derek was supposed to….” I dropped my head and shrugged. “It’s chaotic; no one knows what’s going on.” Luke nodded as though he understood. “But I wanted to stop by real quick and say hi and thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Doing this,” I said. “It means a lot to me… and… well, everyone else. You really deserved this—”

  “Hey,” he said, speaking louder as the band behind us warmed up in unison. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Just stressed.”

  “About the parade… or Derek leaving?”

  I shrugged again for a second time. I didn’t know how Luke knew Derek was gone. I’d never told him. But in a town as small as Oakland, news travelled fast. I could only imagine the whole town knew he was gone within 24-hours of him pulling out.

  He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, and brushing our noses together.

  “Julie,” he nearly yelled, still trying to talk over the band. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine—”

  “I know,” I said, matching his volume. “But I have to go now. They need me at the back of the line—”

  “Go,” he said, letting me slip away. But before I could jump off the float, his hand wrapped gently around my wrist and he twirled me back to him. Our chests were pressed together, and I was breathing far too heavily. I didn’t know if it was Luke’s warm body against mine, or the freezing cold wind, but something left me numb and frazzled.

  He leaned down and whispered something, but I couldn’t make out the words. Even this close, the band was still far too loud.

  “What?” I yelled. He smiled, shook his head, and whispered again. “Luke,” I yelled again, pointing to my ears. “I can’t hear you, it’s too loud—”

  “I love you!” he yelled… and this time everyone heard it. The band had stopped at the most inopportune moment, and now everyone in the line-up, and even a few members of the gathering crowd, watched us with wide eyes.

  I took a long, deep breath as I looked around, failing to meet his gaze.

  “Julie,” Luke said, his voice much quieter now. He lifted his hands to cup my fac
e. “Did you hear me?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Of course I heard him. The whole town heard him.

  “Julie!” Grace yelled from two floats over. “The 4-H float is overcrowded. They want help arranging a second unit—”

  “I’m on it.” I nodded, but never looked at her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Luke’s. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Jules—”

  “Can you just… hold that thought? I have to—”

  “Go,” he said, smiling. “Do what you have to do. I’ll see you after the parade.”

  With a quick and unexpected kiss, I took a step away from him and jumped to the ground. The warmth from his lips still tingled on my skin as I stumbled back to the end of the line.

  It felt like a dream. I almost couldn’t catch my breath. My heart pounded inside my chest, louder with each passing second.

  Luke… just… said… he… loved… me….

  “Eh, Romeo!”

  Charlie’s voice snapped me out of my trance. I whipped around to find him pushing through the crowd toward the Grand Marshal float.

  “No,” I said under my breath, fighting to get back to Luke before my uncle made it there.

  But Grace intercepted.

  “Chief.” I barely heard her say. “Glad you made it on time.” Charlie tried to push past Grace to reach the front of line, but she kept a firm grasp on his arm. “You’re representing the Oakland PD; sixth in line. Please get back to your patrol car.”

  Charlie’s face was red as I’d ever seen it, but he seemed to know better than to mess with Grace. He pointed up to Luke, not saying a word, but communicating a pretty clear message. Luke had crossed a line. But, minding Grace’s authority, Charlie turned on his heel and marched back to his car.

  Grace turned and nodded to me with a slight grin. “Go get the 4-H kids squared away, sweetheart. I’ve got this end covered.”

  Saturday December 15, 11:20am

  The event went off without a hitch. The parade was over by eleven. Most of the participants stuck around to disassemble their floats before heading over to the diner—the site of my emotional breakdown—for a celebratory lunch. By the time the band was out of uniform and loading their instruments on the bus, most of the crowd had cleared out.