Promises

by Susan Rodgers

  In the past she occasionally sent texts to old pals on the Eastside. Now, she needed all the friends she could gather around her, and it was not unusual for Charles and Matt to consider that she’d regressed to older friends from another time in her life, people who she would think of as safe. Still, Matt was tracking all of those texts and making notes of those friendships as well. The person who hurt Jessie was still out there.

  Arnie texted back have fun c u later.

  What Matt didn’t know was that this was a signal, a sign, a secret code. If he was remotely aware of that, Matt would have driven to Arnie’s and demanded the older man speak of what he and Jessie had discussed the last time they met. But instead, Matt set any queries aside for later and, in his own vehicle, followed Jessie and Charlie in the 911 as they drove to Jonathon’s party in the house by the beach.

  After checking in at the party, Charlie pulled gently on Jessie’s good arm. He wanted her to himself for just a little while longer. She slipped off her sandals and he removed his canvas Vans, and they strolled slowly arm in arm down the beach. Jessie had to quell the butterflies in her belly. She was already mourning the loss of her friends and, regardless of the way she and Charlie had ended things romantically, she now counted him as someone she cared deeply about, in fact perhaps even more than when they were a couple. She understood now that some people were just not meant to be romantically intertwined, although their intimacies were every bit as significant.

  They reached a pair of Algonquin deck chairs a few houses down from Jonathon and Giselle’s large home. Obviously placed in the center of the beach to capitalize on ethereal ocean sunsets, they hoped the owners wouldn’t mind a few stragglers seeking some time alone in their cozy down home comfort.

  “How are you doing with all this, Jessie?” Charlie asked once they were settled. She seemed at peace sitting there next to him, peering out from under long dark eyelashes at lightly rolling whitecaps on the ocean, her curls gently buffeted by the breeze. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees over the beige linen pants he rolled up at the cuffs, his white linen button-up shirt also rolled just above the wrists.

  Jessie, exquisite but pale in a mid-thigh length sea-blue silk sundress that emphasized her ice-pearl eyes, a delicate crocheted beige shawl resting on her shoulders, smiled quietly up at him. She was so distant throughout church and lunch that he almost melted when she actually met his gaze.

  “I’m okay,” she said. And that was all.

  He frowned. Why did he get the feeling that she had found some kind of surreal amity after the chaos of the summer? She was definitely different. He found himself thinking about a cousin who committed suicide in his late teens. The boy was very calm and relaxed after a time of relative chaos. Charlie remembered his aunts and uncles talking about him at the time. They said that suicidal people who have made the ultimate decision - to end their lives - often found a sense of peace just before they did the deed because their torment was coming to a definite and irreversible end. He felt his heart quicken. Jessie had been through hell, apparently since June, if her behavior that summer was any indication. She distanced herself from everyone it seemed, except maybe Steve. They would have to keep an eye on her.

  “Jess,” he said, taking her good hand and holding it between his. “Will you tell me the truth about what’s been happening to you?” There was something in the air that day that accompanied her quietude. For some reason, Charlie felt compelled to try to draw the truth out of Jessie. Maybe talking about it would make things better. Maybe that was the reason for the shift in the air around her - she was growing, ready to start healing.

  Still, she took him aback when she whispered yes.

  She looked over at some kids playing in the waves at the ocean’s edge fifty feet away. They reminded her of another time, of innocence and apple trees and sand buckets and a beloved daddy, on Cavendish Beach in Prince Edward Island. Her mood mellowed even more and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

  Inconspicuously, noticing that she had disappeared into some kind of reverie and aching to know what she was thinking, Charlie took a chance and pulled his iPhone out of his pants pocket. He glanced down and selected the utilities and then voice memos App. He hit the red record button just before she looked back, then he set the phone down on the seat next to him. He hoped it would pick up her voice. He prayed that she would open up to him.

  She had a demand for him. “You have to promise you will believe me, Charlie.”

  He paused, searched her liquid eyes.

  “If you swear to tell me the truth, then I will, Jess.” He glanced down at a shell lying peacefully in the sand between his bare toes, marveled at its simple existence, and wondered how many other lives to whom it had borne witness. Peering back up at Jessie he prefaced his humble interrogation. “You’ve told some of us that Josh is innocent. I think you should know that some of the group does not believe you.”

  “The group being…?”

  “Obviously Charles and Dee. Jonathon, and I think Giselle was there - at the Keatings the day Zach told us Josh swore he didn’t lay a finger on you. So obviously Zach. Maybe Hilary then. Oh, Carlotta the maid was there. Matt, of course. I think that’s it.”

  “Kayla?”

  “Maybe Kayla. She went to the jail with Zach the day they released Josh.”

  “Okay. What about you, Charlie? What do you believe?”

  “I was…hoping you would tell me what to believe, Jess.”

  “I want to know what you think now.”

  He exhaled slowly, and looked back down at the non-committal shell, wishing it would tell him what to say. “Then you’ll tell me? The truth?”

  “If you promise to believe me.”

  He straightened, and then raised his hand in a Boy Scout salute. “I will. Scout’s Honor.”

  “So?”

  “Okay. So…” He shrugged, and forced himself to relax a little. “I think that Josh did not hurt you. But I don’t know for sure. I think you picked somebody up at the after party and arranged to meet him at your place - gave him a keycard. But he saw you with Josh at the party and got upset.”

  Their eyes met and it was at that moment that Jessie realized she’d hurt Charlie too. Why oh why was her presence on this planet so hurtful to so many people? Her eyes revealed her sorrow. He recognized that she understood, and he nodded slightly before looking away for a second.

  “You’re close.”

  He glanced back. “You need to fill in the blanks.”

  “Ask me.” He barely heard her. Charlie felt her reticence to offer the answers. He would have to question Jessie one query at a time.

  “Wasn’t Josh who beat you up, was it?” He said it firmly, with determination, as if he could believe it if he said it loudly and if her response was positive. Also, he wanted the iPhone to clearly pick up Jessie’s response. He had others to convince.

  “No.”

  “Not at all?”

  “No.”

  “Why did you blame him? You know he went to jail. People want his head on a platter.”

  “To protect him. To keep him safe.”

  Charlie agonized over that response.

  “From whom?” His voice was shaking. His conjecture at the Keating home that day had been right on the mark.

  She shook her head. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “From the person who hurt you after the concert?”

  “Yes.”

  “He wants to hurt Josh too?”

  She hesitated but didn’t waver from his intense stare. Jessie was afraid that if she looked away she would lose her nerve. But she needed someone to know. “Yes. Now he does. Because of the concert and the after party…he made some real threats.”

  Now he does? Charlie felt sick. “Jess. Has this person harmed you before?”

  Pause. “Yes.” She looked down and buried her pink toes in the sand.

  Charlie almost couldn’t continue. It was a moment before he could pull himself together. He p
inched his bottom lip painfully between his thumb and forefinger.

  “How long has he been hurting you?” He stared out at the ocean, angry and sad. Overcome.

  Quietly, he glanced backwards at her and narrowed his eyes, willing her to speak.

  “Since June. Since Drifters wrapped.”

  Charlie heaved himself out of the low beach chair and paced in a circle, then exhaled deeply again. Eventually he found the wherewithal to sit down.

  “Why are you telling me now?”

  “Because it has to end.”

  “Why are you hiding Josh’s innocence from the world?”

  “To protect him. To keep him safe.”

  One last thought popped into Charlie’s head.

  “Does Josh know who’s been hurting you?”

  She shook her head. “No. He can’t win against this guy. Nobody can.”

  “Is that why you never told anybody? He threatened you and you knew you couldn’t win?”

  She tilted her head sideways in that cute way of hers, her way of wordlessly acquiescing, and his heart leapt. Jessie gazed wretchedly at Charlie and implored him to understand so she wouldn’t have to say it, and then bam! Like he’d been hit with a lightning bolt, suddenly most of the missing pieces fell into place.

  “Jesus, Jess,” he whispered.

  And she knew he understood that it was Josh who was at risk all along, that all of her actions that summer were motivated by the need to keep Josh safe. But she wasn’t going to cry. It was all over now. Everything was over. Charlie would do the right thing - he would protect Josh. Charlie would take care of that for her because Charlie loved her.

  One thing remained.

  “Tell me who it is, Jess. Was it that second rate actor you were with last spring? Forester? This started after that, right?”

  “No,” she said, feeling her throat finally start to close up as tears threatened. “It started before. He gave me two weeks to end things with Josh. He said he wouldn’t hurt him if I let him go. And I can’t tell you who. He’s extremely dangerous, Charlie. I think he’s left the city now, at least for a little while. And as long as he, Josh and I choose to let the world believe Josh did this,” she raised the wrist in its cast, “Josh is safe. I think,” she added in a way that told him she wasn’t really sure about that. “As long as he thinks the world believes Josh did this, then he has no reason to harm him because…because the world will punish Josh enough. All of you are already punishing him for something he didn’t do.”

  Charlie winced.

  “This man likes to hurt people and then watch them suffer. It’s what he does. It’s what he enjoys. He needs to be in control.”

  Charlie dropped his head in his hands and stared again at the shell. He wished he could crawl inside.

  “You should have come to us for help. Any of us.” A seed of anger was planted in Charlie then that would burn and grow for the rest of his life. They could have helped her. But no. She loved Josh too much to risk his life. Enough to set him free and to suffer for him. To sacrifice herself for him.

  “Jessie. How much of this does Josh know?”

  She shook her head. The tears slowly started to spill over. He touched one with a finger and it melded into his skin.

  “None of it?” he asked, astounded.

  “No. He would have tried to go after this guy. And he would not have won. He can’t know, Charlie.”

  “Ah,” Charlie groaned in frustration, not sure he could keep that big a secret. “And you won’t tell me who it is. But I gather it is someone who is not from Vancouver. Jess. How can we catch and destroy this guy,” he reached down and grabbed the harmless shell and crushed it on the arm of the deck chair, “if we don’t know who he is?”

  “It’s better just to let him be, Charlie. I have a feeling he’ll stay underground from now on. He won’t go after Josh as long as everyone else is hurting him. As long as everyone believes Josh did this.”

  “That’s a heavy burden to lay on Josh, Jess. And for you to carry.”

  “It’s better than being dead, Charlie,” she said softly. He did not realize that she was only talking about Josh. She didn’t care about being dead. She already felt dead.

  “Let us try, Jess. Let us at least try to nail this guy.”

  She stared at him. “It’s over, Charlie. Let it rest.”

  After a while he put an arm around her. “You can’t let Steve and Maggie and Kayla go on believing that Josh did this to you. It’s killing them.”

  “Then tell them the truth. But please, Charlie, just them. No one else.”

  “People are going to believe what they want to anyway, Jessie.”

  “They’ll believe you,” she said. “In their hearts they know he’s innocent anyway.”

  Even after that terrible summer, Jessie still believed in the goodness of the human heart in the people she’d let into her own. Charlie was incredulous.

  “Okay, little girl,” he said after a while. “We better get back to the party.”

  It was only later that he realized she asked him to tell her Drifters friends the truth. Why couldn’t she tell them herself?

  As they approached the house they saw Josh standing outside on the deck, somber, hands shoved deep in his pants pockets. Not far away were Dan and Ulysses, keeping an eye on him. Matt and another security team member had tailed Jessie and Charlie, but were keeping a respectable distance behind them. Steve was with Maggie and Carter over at the outdoor bar. He had an eagle eye out for Jessie although he was in mid-conversation with Giselle, their hostess.

  Josh was leaning against the wall of the house but he straightened as Jessie and Charlie drew near. He looked questioningly up at the couple and then took a few tentative steps forward, but Dan reached out and roughly grabbed his arm. Frustrated, Josh tried to throw him off.

  “Jessie,” he pleaded. “Just let me talk to you for a second. Please?” Then, to Dan, “Lay off, man!”

  Dan retorted sharply, “You’re not even supposed to be here, dude. You’re court ordered to stay away from her.”

  Groaning because the last thing he really wanted to do was defend Josh, the man Jessie loved enough to let go, Charlie took the high road and jumped in.

  “Dan, it was Jessie who asked that he be here. He’s well guarded. Let him be for a sec. He’s not going to do anything here.” He could sense that Jessie, who had tensed beside him, needed a moment with Josh. She sure as hell deserved it, and so did Josh, for that matter. And Charlie would do anything for Jessie. He stepped aside to give them their privacy.

  Jessie tiptoed closer to Josh as the entire realm of partygoers watched, spellbound, in awe of Jessie’s courage to face the guy who they all thought beat the shit out of her. Maybe she’d spit on him…

  He looked down at her, his searching eyes unable to hide any of his agonizingly mixed-up feelings. He eyed the cast, the bruised fingers, the healing yellow patches on her slender legs. Wordlessly, she watched confusion and anger flutter underneath his valiant attempt at control. Then to the utter amazement of the curious onlookers she drew him close and held him tight. His breath coming in gasps, he squeezed her back.

  “Jessie,” he whispered into her ear. “Why?” And then, “Who?”

  She willed herself not to cry. She was an actor, dammit, a good one. One of the best.

  Charlie looked away.

  “I have to go,” she said, pulling away, shaking her head and willing him to understand that this was not the time to talk. Her expression was no longer guarded. Her pink lips, flushed cheeks and the worry in her blue eyes all revealed that she was clearly pained.

  He nodded, despite a desperate need to know everything. Josh was ready to go to battle for her, to end Jessie’s solitary torment. But for now he thought she meant she had to go sing for Jonathon, for their - for her - friends. They would have time to talk again later, about the whys and the whos.

  With her good hand she reached out and tucked the favorite piece of chestnut hair behind his
ear, attempting to smile sincerely despite her angst for the first time in months. “So cute,” she said forlornly, teasing him the way she used to. She rested her hand on his cheek for a moment and he soaked up the warmth of it, of the way she was so calmly beholding him now with that little inner light he missed so desperately.

  Watching with raised eyebrows, the other party guests felt sorry for Jessie. Such a sweet girl - but obviously not very smart, they thought. Why would she want anything to do with this guy who beat her up? Love was messed up sometimes. People were always going back to bad situations, for love, supposedly.

  Josh’s mouth curled up in a tiny smile and his breathing evened out.

  Jessie looked deeply inside his soul. “Thank you,” she murmured slowly, each word pronounced with extra care and weight, and he knew she meant for understanding something about the way this all had to go down; for bearing the weight of it all.

  “I’m going to understand all of this one day. Won’t I, Jessie?” His voice was low and dusky.

  “Yeah,” she breathed, in an opposite higher-pitched singsong voice. She ran a finger down his shirt, over the buttons, and then pressed her hand flat against his belly, memorizing the look and feel of him. He placed a strong hand over hers, willing her to meet his gaze just one more time.

  As if she heard his voice once more inside her head, she looked up and smiled. “Yeah,” she added more affirmatively. Then, in a serious tone, “Josh, you need to know that if you ever need anything, Jonathon will be there for you. Okay?”

  He frowned. Sure, he and Jonathon had bonded over Drifters but now; with such dark accusations floating around…Josh taking the dive…he shook his head. “Not too likely anyone will be around for me for a while.”

  “Jonathon will,” she said with certainty. “Trust me.”

  As he pondered the strangeness of that statement, and wondered when and how this torment would end, hurried hollow footsteps echoed on the flagstone walk. Dee was on her way over to them, almost tripping in her teetering Manolo Blahniks. Charles was right behind her.