A Promise Kept

by Anissa Garcia

“When I actually complete a painting, yes. I’ll go to the Blue Genie Art Bazaar or sell online.”

  Grace stood and began to reach for the can of wood stain in the corner. Evan followed and placed his palm on the desk. “And this desk? Where’s this going to sit?”

  “I’m going to sell it.”

  “What?” His voice dropped in disappointment as he took off his gloves. “Our first project together and you’re selling it?”

  “We can’t all be paid millions for our work, Evan. Gotta pay those student loans off somehow.”

  He unexpectedly felt his profession was unfair and absurd. Here he was getting paid an obscene amount of money for memorizing lines while Grace put so much energy in working to make ends meet. Her eyes were on him in a flash. “Don’t you dare, Evan Matthews.”

  His eyes crinkled in confusion. “What?”

  “Don’t feel bad. I was teasing you.”

  “I know, but it is outrageous what I get paid. I feel guilty sometimes.”

  He exhaled in frustration and saw the gleam of inspiration in Grace’s chocolate eyes. She tugged her gloves off and moved near him. Her voice was firm. “Your work is just as important as anyone else’s. People are happy when they see your movies. They get transported and escape their lives. It’s just like reading a book. You deserve your success.”

  Evan shrugged unconvinced, but Grace grabbed his shoulders, turning him toward her. “Evan, you’re a very gifted actor. There’s no reason for you not to get paid well. If it wasn’t you getting the money the studio heads would get it all. And why should they when you’re the one selling the film? You give up your privacy, your vulnerability, and all of yourself on that movie screen. It’s your art. Don’t ever feel guilty for that.”

  This woman eased his concerns in a moment, making him feel as though everything was right in the world. He could no longer hold back. He dropped his head to hers and let his lips descend, taking the sweetness of her mouth to his and demanding it without regret. His hands cradled her face gently, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. The kiss was passionate and slow. He took his time, pacing himself under the circumstances.

  His tongue gently slipped between her lips and a moan escaped her under the sensual movements. His hands motivated, he pushed her bandana off and tangled his fingers in her soft brown hair. Their urgency grew and they savored and drank each other in as she fisted his shirt at his waist. He had her, but only for a flash of a moment until he felt her body tighten.

  He let his lips withdraw, taking a tiny last taste before moving back. He studied her as she tried to get her bearings. Her forehead rested against his chest and he kissed her crown as their breathing steadied and his heart rate decelerated. “You alright?”

  “No,” she whispered and moved away. Her back was now to him as she grabbed and fixed her bandana and Evan wondered if shit was about to hit the fan.

  Instead of saying anything, however, she disregarded what happened and moved toward the can of wood stain and began to pry it open. The heat between them had left and was replaced with uncertainty and hesitance. “Grace?”

  She grabbed two large brushes and handed one to him. A tiny smile strained on her lips, but Evan knew a million thoughts were running through her brain as they were his. “Let’s finish this desk, Captain.”

  He watched as she dipped the brush in and began to buff the top of the wood. Her eyes stayed down, but her breathing was labored and her cheeks flushed. He started on the other side of the desk following the same direction she went. He cleared his throat after some time passed and Nat King Cole transitioned into James Taylor.

  “We’re not going to talk about what just happened, cupcake?”

  Grace looked up at him looking like a deer caught in headlights. The expression on her face changed from fright to a mock smile. “Like what a good kisser you are? I’m sure you’ve been told that by many girls already.”

  “Grace…”

  “It was a kiss, Evan. It was sweet and I enjoyed it.” She shifted to a kneeling position at the side of the desk, her arm swishing the brush quickly over the wood. “Guess that’s one date down.” She stopped and winked at Evan.

  “Not a date.”

  “You said when you kissed me it was considered a date.”

  “Two parts of the bet can’t be cashed in at the same time.” He would find any and every excuse possible to extend spending time with her. He felt her trying to push away from him. Her defenses were up and she was trying to pretend that kiss meant nothing, when it certainly meant something. “This is the ‘refurbishing the desk’ bet. The date thing is separate.”

  “Now you’re just making up silly rules that weren’t even discussed.”

  “You seem hell-bent on getting my payment over with,” Evan commented as he moved toward the back of the desk. “You wanna go to Boston with me for Thanksgiving?”

  Grace chuckled. “I’m not going to Boston, Evan.”

  “Why not? You’d love it.”

  She peered over the desk to him and made a face of incredulity. “I don’t need to go to Boston.”

  “Everyone needs to go to Boston.”

  “I think you’ve said that before. Maybe someday.” She wanted the subject dropped, and he would oblige for the time being.

  “I still want to read your memoir, Grace. How’s it going with the writing?”

  “Slow. Painstakingly slow.”

  Much like making you mine, he thought to himself. That kiss shook him to his core, but she wanted to discount whatever this thing was between them and he wasn’t so sure he could. Grace Clark was changing something in him. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he knew he needed to find out.

  They continued to chat until they had finished the staining process. Evan glanced out of the garage and twilight was setting into the night. Drizzle began to pick up to a heavy rain. Neither of them kept their eyes on each other for long, but he could sense her watching him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  “Okay, now we wait to let the stain dry.”

  “For what, a day?”

  Grace began to gather the brushes to wash. “Yeah, maybe more. Then I have to sand it again, then put the finish.”

  She put all the rags and gloves and masks into a plastic container for safety and shut it with the lid. He supposed she’d wash the paint brushes inside. “It’s a lot of work.”

  “No shit. Why do you think I made that bet?” She yawned and stretched. “I’m ready for a hot shower.”

  “I can join you.” He winked.

  She squinted her eyes and punched his arm. “Nice try.”

  He caught her hand in his, the heat instantly climbing back between them as he hovered over her. His breath became weighty as he reached over and moved a stray lock of falling hair. “I really want to kiss you again, Gracie Lynn.”

  She gulped, her chest expanding and falling rapidly as her eyes widened. “I-I need to…” She took a step back and bumped into the shelving against the wall. She turned heading toward the door that led inside. “The brushes need to be washed before the stain dries. I should call it a night.”

  He tried to keep his laugh contained as she shucked her boots off on the doormat and set them aside. “Thanks for helping me with the desk, Evan.”

  He gathered his things. “I’ll be seeing you, Grace.”

  Evan walked into the rain, letting the water stream down his body. What the hell was he going to do about this woman? How would he be able to leave Austin after that crazy kiss? Moreover, would he ever be able to kiss another woman without comparing it to the skittish neighbor who was beginning to hold his heart with a grip so tight it bordered on problematic? Evan knew he had to figure out a way to solve the issue once and for all.

  Sunday morning began with Grace slogging out of bed and getting ready for the day with averseness. She slowly dressed in a black button-down blouse paired with matching jeans and kept her makeup subdued.

  She made her way to the kitchen and sipped her coffe
e as she picked at a blueberry muffin she had made the night before. It usually wasn’t this bad, but the guilt was present hardcore today, just like the recent nightmares. She snatched up her phone, double-checking it and seeing no messages. Don’t cry, Grace. This was a normal occurrence; she should be used to it. It had already been long enough.

  The doorbell chimed and startled Grace out of her desolate thoughts. Evan stood in her doorway wearing a black buttoned down shirt, similar to hers, and charcoal slacks. His face was free of stubble, his hair perfectly in place. Grace felt her heart speed up as she stood in front of him. He was so breathtakingly handsome. The last time she had seen him he knocked her back with that amazing kiss.

  She had been kissed many times before, but she had never felt her heart beat to where she thought it was going to break through her chest. It shook her beyond anything, and she reminded herself a thousand times since then to be smart. Lead with your head, not your heart, Grace.

  “Hi, Gracie.” His voice seemed rickety as he inhaled deeply. A bouquet of flowers were in his hands, and she looked at them questioningly. He followed her gaze down and handed them to her. “I came to see how you’re doing today.”

  She wanted to smile, but couldn’t muster up the frame of mind to do it. “Not that great, actually.” Clasping the flowers, she raised them to her nose and inhaled the sweet scent. She thought it was nice that he was there to possibly ask her out, but the last thing she felt like doing was assembling the ability to say no to him.

  “Jonquils,” Evan murmured, caressing a yellow petal. “You’ll have to look up the meaning for them.”

  Grace lowered the bouquet. “Or you could just tell me.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave her a small smirk. “Where’s the fun in that, Gracie Lynn?”

  She finally broke a smile, and almost felt guilty for it. She was about to tell him she wasn’t up for company when he began. “Hey listen, I know today is hard for you, cause it’s your brother’s birthday. I just came by to see if you needed anything.”

  “Wow, you remembered that?”

  “Of course. It’s important to you.”

  Grace’s breath caught and pressure hit her chest like a freight train. Shock crossed her face as she understood. “The flowers? They’re for Nathan?”

  “Or for you. I’ll go with you to see him, if you’re up for company.”

  She stayed silent, looking at the bouquet in her hands. She tried to swallow the lump that stuck in her throat as she nodded. She pulled one flower out and placed it on the hall tree near the door. Turning, she looked at Evan. “Let’s go see my brother.”

  Evan held Grace’s hand as they walked toward Nathan’s plot. The clouds had taken over the sun, making the day feel as gray and dreary as the emotions that simmered under the surface. He watched as the somber woman next to him stared at the headstone. Fake flowers sat in a small vase, and Grace kneeled on the ground, placing the real ones with the others. She rearranged them and dusted off debris around the memorial.

  “Want some time alone?” he asked softly. She shook her head, but didn’t turn to look at him. Evan lowered his body beside her. “Tell me something about him.”

  “He made me laugh all the time,” she recollected old times and picked at the soft, rich, grass near her. Playing with a small blade in her hands, she gave a reminiscent smile. “He’d always take me to Kerbey Lane to eat on Thursday nights. We’d sit for hours and just talk about the dumbest things. His favorite band was Led Zeppelin. His favorite movie was Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. He called me ‘Stumpy’ because he thought I was short.”

  Evan chuckled. “You’re not that short.”

  “He just liked teasing me.” After some time, she broke the long silence. “I haven’t heard from my parents. Not that I would hear from them today anyway.” Her voice trembled. “Sometimes I don’t know what I miss more. Them or just the idea of them.”

  Evan watched as a tear spilled down the corner of her eye and his heart pitched. He wished he could take her pain away, make her feel better. He wiped the tear, but she tilted her head back. “I’m okay, it’s been a long time.”

  “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, Grace.” He clasped her hand in his and gently caressed it as his eyes roamed her face. He could see she was determined to hold everything inside. “You don’t always have to be strong. It’s okay to miss what you had before you lost it.” He reached into his pocket, handing her some tissues. “Here, wipe those boogers.”

  “Thanks,” she breathed out a shaky laugh, pulling one apart to use over her eyes. “I don’t know why I let it get to me. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t apologize for having emotions, Gracie. It makes us remember we’re alive.” He moved her hair back over her ears. Cupping her face in his hands, he wiped away a few stray tears with his thumbs.

  “You feel a bit better?”

  She nodded as he stood and held his hand to help her up. They dusted the grass off their clothing, and she turned to stare at the gravestone once again. Grace whispered, “I miss you. And I’m trying to keep my promise. I love you.”

  Evan wouldn’t pry, but he was curious as to the promise, and he hoped she would one day confide in him. It perplexed him how such a sweet woman would feel unloved, especially by her own parents. Grace had no idea how special she was, and with every moment Evan spent with her, her heart was opening his to the possibility of something deeper than he had ever experienced before.

  Grace hadn’t felt like doing much else and she was relieved when Evan drove her back home. He was so thoughtful to be there for her on the day she usually liked spending unaccompanied. Marla and Jaime called every year to check up on Grace, but this felt different. Evan was slowly getting her to open up, and that was something she rarely ever did. Being around him, she sensed generosity and a type of intimacy she hadn’t felt with anyone before.

  Evan going with her to the cemetery was as far as she could go with letting him in though. Grace couldn’t forget what happened to Nathan. Grief was predominant, and she wasn’t comfortable enough to confide in him completely. Not just yet.

  How could she overlook that it all began by sleeping with her brother’s friend? A guy who seemed just as nice as Evan. He turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothes. Kyle spread vicious rumors about her and everyone in the school knew of her shame. All the girls hated her, thinking she was an easy whore. All the guys hit on her for the same reason. Words of hate were spray-painted on her locker; photo-shopped pictures were passed around the school. People she thought were her friends had deserted her. Waking up every day to go to that nasty place was torture. She was mercilessly teased and harassed to the point where she wanted to drop out.

  Grace had begged her parents to take her out of school. She thought she couldn’t take much more. Thomas Clark refused to let his daughter cower away. He forced her to deal with the repercussions of her actions. Her mother, Nancy Clark, was extremely humiliated by her daughter’s behavior. Women began leaving Nancy out of volunteer functions and the ladies luncheons. Grace was an embarrassment to her. Luckily, her brother supported her. Nathan helped her pick up the pieces by teaching her that high school wouldn’t last, and people would eventually forget. He made her realize that she was worthy of someone special. She deserved to be valued and loved, and she needed to wait for the right man to come along and see that in her.

  If she had thought being dumped by Kyle Erikson and being shamed was the worst feeling in the world, it hadn’t compared to the heartache she felt when Nathan died. She had tried to stop him. He was drinking though, and she was too small to hold him back. He had convinced her to go to that stupid party, saying she had a right to be there as anyone else. But she saw it all happen, as if in slow motion, and it was something that was seared in so deeply, it would never leave. The way the accident happened, the silence from everyone spoke volumes as she begged her brother to wake up, and yelled for someone to call an ambulance. They stood around starin
g, then most of them scattered like roaches when the police came to break up the party. The EMS fussed over Nathan’s unconscious body and loaded him into the ambulance taking him away from her forever.

  Grace wished for so long she could change things. Redo everything. But after years of therapy, she tried to comprehend that it was out of her control. The past needed to be left there, her brain had to hush the noise of the consuming guilt she had felt for so long. And she had finally come to peace, even without an apology from Kyle-fucking-Erikson, or the estrangement from her parents.

  Her memoir went over all of it, and although she wanted to honor her brother’s memory, she was terrified of letting anyone read it, let alone Evan Matthews. It made her vulnerable to him, voicing all the insecurities that ran through her head. There was a chance he’d reject her, and she was beginning to like him more than she wanted. Would he be willing to wait for her to be ready? Would he be patient enough for her to feel secure with him? Did she really want to be with him? These were all questions she didn’t have answers to, and she wasn’t sure she was willing to find out.

  There was a knock on the door and Grace rose from her couch wiping her tears away. Too many emotions had given her a headache, and before she had known it, the evening had approached. She checked the peephole and gave a small smile.

  “Zach? Hi.”

  He stood cradling several bags in his arms and made his way inside. “Delivery.”

  Grace walked with him to the kitchen as he placed everything on the counter. A red cloth caught her eye as he unfolded it and walked to her dining table. He covered it nicely and placed out a candle and lit it up. He continued to dig in the bag, and took out a wine glass and nice dishes for one, including utensils.

  “What is all this?”

  He took out full Tupperware and began to serve the plates immediately. He gave a sweet smile. “Homemade dinner for the winner of the poker game. Compliments of Evan Jonathan Matthews.”

  She chuckled as he served soup into a bowl. “For starters, you have New England Clam Chowder. It’s fresh, so you’ll want to start eating now.” It wasn’t lost on her how his “r” words ended with an “h” in that Boston accent. She enjoyed listening to it until he paused and looked up at her. “You didn’t eat already, did you?”