His Promise

by Eddie Cleveland

  These little party games aren’t really my thing, but I know Julia has put a lot of work into making this a fun afternoon for us, so, when in Rome. I make my way over to the table but stop dead in my tracks. Standing in the doorway is a woman with sad eyes and a small wrapped gift in her hand.

  My mouth drops open and I struggle to breathe because that woman is my mother.

  34

  Isabella

  “What are you doing here?” The words are so cold they almost give my tongue frostbite.

  My mother’s eyes dart quickly over at Julia and then she looks at the floor.

  “I invited her, Isabella.”

  “You?” I turn on my heel, pointing my finger at Julia like a loaded gun. “Seriously? What were you thinking?” Suddenly I realize the room has gone as quiet as a funeral service and all eyes are on me. Make some popcorn while you’re at it, ladies.

  Julia realizes we’re becoming the main event and directs the women back to her onesie decorating sweatshop before leading my mother and me into the kitchen where there’s a little more privacy.

  “Isabella, that’s no way to act about seeing your mother,” Julia scolds me like a little child.

  Maybe it’s appropriate ’cause right now I’m on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

  “I didn’t think it was right that your parents weren’t included in your life when this is such an important time for you. I can’t tell you how many times I wish I had my mother to talk to since I’ve gotten pregnant.”

  “My parents aren’t dead, Julia. They choose to stay out of my life.”

  Julia steps back and raises her hand to her mouth like I punched her in the face with my words. I instantly feel terrible for being so insensitive about the fact her parents have both passed away, but I’m just so angry that she betrayed me.

  “Isabella! That’s no way to talk to your friend. I’m sorry, Julia, it was a mistake for me to come here.” My mother finally finds her voice.

  “No, it wasn’t a mistake.” Julia holds up her hand. “Everyone just needs to calm down for a second.” She walks over to me and puts her hands on my shoulders, looking straight at me. “Isabella, I’m sorry I went behind your back, okay? I know I overstepped my bounds, I do. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to see things clearly from the outside looking in, and it isn’t right that you and your parents don’t work things out when you have your first baby on the way.”

  “You’re right.” I shake free from her grip. “You did overstep your bounds.” Reason is the last thing I want to listen to right now, but Julia isn’t about to give up.

  “Do you remember when I first met Parker?” Julia tilts her head at me, her hand clinging to her hip. “I didn’t want anything to do with him, remember?” The memory of a simpler time, when Julia and I were both waitressing at the diner, pops into my head. She had crumpled up Parker’s number and tossed it, so I called him and gave him her number instead. I had known she just needed to give him a chance.

  “It’s not the same.” I pout, knowing she’s got me.

  “You’re right, it’s actually more important for you to resolve your differences with your parents than it was for me to date Parker. And that was the most important decision of my life. Just have some lemonade and cake and sit out on the veranda. Hear your mother out, please.”

  I look at my mother standing awkwardly beside us and over her shoulder into the living room where the women are doing a terrible job of pretending not to listen in. Finally, I meet Julia’s gaze and sigh, my shoulders hunching over. “Fine.”

  A smile spreads across Julia’s face like a child sneaking out to catch a glimpse of all the presents under the tree on Christmas morning. I pour myself a glass of lemonade and cut a big hunk of the Pinterest-perfect cake Julia got to celebrate our joint baby shower. Somehow, defacing the lovely, three-tiered cake covered in fondant and polka dots makes me feel better. The little plastic stork holding a white sheet carrying two adorable babies judges me. I decide to ignore the stork and the nosy women in the living room and make my way to the veranda without another word.

  As soon as we’re seated at the table, I push the cake away. I just don’t have an appetite right now. “You want this?”

  My mother looks at it for a second but shakes her head.

  “You look great, Isabella. I can’t believe how small you are. Aren’t you five months now?” Her eyes trail down to my slightly puffy belly.

  “Yep, almost twenty weeks.”

  “I never did understand how far along someone was when they counted in weeks. It’s like when mothers tell me their baby is thirty-one months and I have to do math to figure out how old the kid is.” She smiles, but my stone-cold stare quickly evaporates the happiness from her face.

  “Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

  “No, sorry, I was just trying to make small talk, I guess.” She fiddles with her wedding band and avoids my gaze. Her eyes are beginning to mist up, but she’s trying to hide it from me. “What I wanted to say is that”—she looks up at me—“I’m sorry.” She wipes the tears forming in the corner of her eyes, and I notice for the first time just how tired she looks. I guess it isn’t that she looks tired as much as she’s just growing older. Time is showing its passage in the lines crinkling her skin.

  “Okay, well, now I know.” I refuse to let my guard down. I will not open my heart only to have it stomped on again. The way I’m treating my mother may be cruel, but so is turning your back on your child. Twice.

  “Isabella, please just hear me out.” She reaches across the table to hold my hand, but I recoil from her touch. Instead, she folds her hands in her lap and hangs her head. “You know, there hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept all the way through in eleven years now.” Her voice trembles as she talks down to her chest. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for standing by and letting your father kick you out of the house, because the good Lord knows I’ve never forgiven myself. I just want to tell you that, if you’ll let me, I’d like to mend the past and prove I can do better. I know I messed up as a mother, and you have every right to be angry with me, but if you’ll let me in your life, I will do everything in my power to be a better mom and the best nana I can.”

  Her chin trembles and it reminds me of Madison when she gets worked up. I can’t fight my instinct to comfort her. I reach out, offering my hand, and the tears spill down her face as she accepts.

  “Mom, of course you can be in my life. That’s what I always wanted.” My throat tightens as I fight back my tears. “I didn’t walk out that door. I was pushed out.”

  She nods and gives my hand a squeeze.

  “How about you bring Colt and Madison over to the house on Sunday after the service? I’ll cook up a big family dinner like we used to have. I’ll even make up a fresh blueberry pie.” She tempts me with my favorite dessert.

  “What about Dad?”

  “You leave your father to me. If you come over, I promise he won’t make a fuss. I let that man push you out of my life once. I’m never going to allow it again.” My mother’s mascara is smudging every time she blinks, emphasizing the bags under her eyes. She looks incredibly weary.

  “Okay.” I surprise myself with how quickly I agree. The truth is, this is what my heart wants and my burden is already lighter just knowing that my mom wants to build our relationship back up from the ashes.

  “I’ll talk to Colt and let you know, but I don’t see it being a problem.” I smile and it’s the first time in a long time that I can remember actually feeling hopeful about my relationship with my mom.

  We stand up and my mother gives me a quick hug. Her arms don’t melt around me like they used to when I was a child. Her arms used to be the safest, warmest place I knew and now they feel like rigid tree branches against my back.

  I hope I never ruin the comfort of my hugs for my child.

  We make our way back inside and the cake has disappeared from the counter. I put my untouched piece by the sink. In the next
room the women are cackling and stuffing their faces. It sounds like the party turned out all right after all. Julia quickly spots us hovering around the island and joins us, her face full of hope.

  “Hey, you two, did you want to join the fun? We’re about to open up the gifts in a minute.”

  “I should get going, actually. Thank you for inviting me, though, Julia. You look very happy and I’m happy for you.” Mom gives Julia a hug, and I can’t help but notice that it looks less awkward than the one we just shared. My mother gives me a quick peck on the cheek and leaves without saying a word to the crowd of ladies who watch her go.

  Julia and I join the group, both acting like nothing happened.

  “Okay, everyone! It’s time to open some gifts. First, I want to thank all of you for coming today and for being so kind as to bring presents. I’ve been told there’s no such thing as too many toys and diapers, so don’t worry if there are some repeats.” She smiles. “All right, so here’s one for you, Isabella.” She hands me the small present my mother was holding. “And I’ll open this one.” She grabs for herself a huge box with an elaborate bow topping it.

  I take my gift over to a seat and wonder what my mother brought me. The women are watching as Julia puts on a show about opening up her present, and frankly I’m happy to have the space I need to recover after that talk I just had.

  Sliding my fingers under the scotch tape, I rip open the folded end of paper and tear it off in one pull. In my hands is a little stuffed, gray Scottie dog. Not the typical teddy bear you’d expect for a newborn, but it’s still cute. Suddenly it dawns on me why the dog looks familiar. It reminds me of Toto from The Wizard of Oz. I loved that movie as a child.

  I check the tag around its neck demanding I squeeze him. As soon as I wrap my hand around his middle the faint notes of “Somewhere over the Rainbow” fill my ears. I freeze in place as my mind flashes back to when my mother used to sing me this song, rubbing her hand over my hair, soothing away my fears. The tears I’ve been holding back burst from me like a fire hydrant as sobs wrack my body. That song has always been the one memory that remained untainted by the years of quiet anger, and now I can pass it on to my child.

  35

  Colt

  With the hectic noises of the building being hushed by my office door, I take a seat at my desk. Opening the famous robin-egg blue box, I’m drawn in by the exquisite details of the engagement ring. After looking through what felt like thousands of options with Madison, the jeweler offered to create a unique piece for Isabella. Madison was thrilled to feel included in something so special, even though her only real contribution was that it needed to be “super sparkling!” She’ll be happy when she sees her request was taken seriously. The princess cut diamond is just about the sparkliest thing I’ve ever seen.

  Waiting for this piece of art to be created has been painful. It’s taken nearly a month for the ring to be designed, but in the end the wait turned out to be a blessing. Originally, I was going to propose as soon as I possibly could. However, now that Isabella has told me about her mother trying to make amends, I’ve decided to wait. I’m going to propose to Isabella either way, but I’m a man who respects tradition. If Isabella’s father is on the same page as her mother about being in her life, then I can hold off for a bit if it means doing things right and asking for his daughter’s hand in marriage.

  However, if he thinks he’s going to talk to her the way he did in the church again, then he better make it a good speech because it’ll be the last one we’ll be listening to. There’s no way I’m going to let someone undercut the woman I love and tear her heart out like he did, even if it’s her own father.

  “Sir, I have Frank Adams on the line. He’s stressed that it’s urgent. Would you like me to put him through?” Rachel intrudes on my thoughts over my intercom.

  I snap the lid shut on the jewelry box and slip it into my desk drawer.

  “Yes, certainly.” I wait for the line to flash on my phone and pick it up, wondering what my lawyer wants.

  “Colt? I’m glad I caught you.” Frank sounds frazzled, which is completely unlike him.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Have you heard from the police yet?”

  So, no, everything’s not all right.

  “The police? About what? Is Madison okay?” My heart starts thumping blood to my ears as I begin to imagine the worst.

  “No, no, I’m talking about Lisa. She’s gone missing. There’s been no sign of her at her group program and her parole officer says it looks like she split her apartment. Has she tried to contact you in anyway?”

  “Missing? No, she hasn’t called. We haven’t spoken in months.”

  “Called, texted, emailed? Christ, even if she’s sent you a smoke signal you’ve gotta get in touch with the Florida PD. Her checking out like this is a serious offense. It violates every term of her conditional sentencing. I mean, she’s really screwed that one up. No judge is going to keep her out of prison now. The jail diversion program was her one freebie and now she’s burned it up.”

  I run my fingers over my temples, trying to think of what could’ve possibly possessed her to do something so stupid.

  Possessed her.

  The words send a chill down my spine as I recall her conversations about Satan and Moses. One thing is certain, if Lisa is missing, someone could get hurt. Most likely, Lisa.

  “I haven’t heard from her at all. If I even catch a whisper, I’ll contact the police. I would guess she’s on some kind of bender. It wouldn’t surprise me if she rolls into her parole officer’s office with a hangover and a sob story in a few days.”

  “Well, it better be one hell of a story because I’m pretty sure she’s just cinched her fate. She’ll be serving time now. The courts don’t take too kindly to having their good will thrown back in their faces,” Frank chirps matter-of-factly.

  “Okay, well, thanks for getting ahold of me. Let me know when any new information surfaces, and I’ll do the same.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that. Oh, and, Colt, just be cautious. From all accounts, Lisa is a very unstable woman and there’s no telling what she might do.”

  I can’t disagree with him given there’s a YouTube video with over nine million hits proving his case. However, the only person I think Lisa is really in danger of harming is herself.

  “Thank you, Frank. I’ll keep that in mind if she contacts me.” I hang up the phone and run my hand through my hair. Why would she throw away her second chance like that? It just doesn’t make any sense, but then again, not many things do make sense with Lisa. Sighing, a wave of exhaustion washes over me, beating against me like a tide pounding a rock into sand.

  Why, Lisa? Why would you do something so stupid?

  36

  Colt

  “My goodness, come in! Come in! You don’t need to knock, just walk right in here.” Isabella’s mother emphatically waves us through her front door.

  “Thank you for having us over, Mrs. Franco.” I hand her a bouquet of wild flowers and her eyes grow wide.

  “Well, would you look at that, John. What a gentleman, bringing flowers. You’ve got a keeper there, Isabella.” She smiles.

  “I know,” Isabella answers her distractedly.

  Madison is clinging to her skirt in an attempt to hide from the unfamiliar faces and it’s nearly knocking Isabella over.

  “Very nice.” Pastor John flits his eyes over the newspaper he’s reading. He hasn’t bothered to move from the couch to greet us. I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well.

  “You can call me Shirley, by the way, Colt. There’s no need to be so formal with family.”

  We follow her lead into the living room and take seats in the scattered, retro chairs around the room. Madison practically claws her way up into Isabella’s lap, which actually warms my heart to see, despite the fact she’s doing it out of fear.

  “I hope you like ham, Colt,” Shirley announces nervously. “It’s Isabella’s favorite,
so I made it for her. I figure there’s nothing like a home-cooked meal when you’re pregnant, right?” Her eyes dart over to Isabella, but she’s preoccupied with Madison.

  “Yeah, sounds good, Mom,” she answers flatly.

  “I don’t like strangers!” Madison pouts, hiding her face against Isabella’s chest.

  “That’s okay. You can just look at me if you want,” Isabella answers her kindly, softly stroking her bouncy brown curls. “I’ll tell you what. How about we play ‘eye spy’? Does that sound like fun? I’ll start, okay? I spy with my little eye something that is brown.”

  “Everything is brown!” Madison looks around the room, exasperated.

  I stifle my laughter, but she’s right. This house definitely had it’s heyday in the seventies with the brown on brown decor.

  Isabella’s father finally decides to acknowledge that we’re sitting in the room by neatly folding up the paper and laying it next to him on the end table.

  “John, why don’t you chat with Colt while I go put these lovely flowers in some water and check on the ham,” Shirley directs her husband. From the pinched look on his face, I can tell he is only following orders to keep the peace.

  “So, Colt, did you grow up in New York?” John asks me half-heartedly. His eyes can barely stay on my face long enough for me to answer, instead being pulled back to his daughter and Madison playing together across the room.

  “No, sir. I was born and raised in Florida. I only moved to the city a few years ago for my job.”