His Promise

by Eddie Cleveland

  I feel like I could’ve told him I’m an ex-convict and I’d get the same distracted nod of the head I’m getting now. Clearly, his attention is being divided between me and the tender scene unfolding between Isabella and Madison. I’d have to say they’re winning, and rightly so.

  “Ah, Florida, huh? So, I take it you aren’t a Giants fan then?” He finally zones back in on me, a small smile beginning to twitch at the corners of his lips.

  “Be careful,” Isabella interrupts, “it’s a trap. Dad thinks Sundays are for two things, God and football.”

  “Is that right?” I glance over at her and give her a wink. “Well, then it’s a shame he’s stuck with two of the worst teams in the NFL here in New York.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, but how many championships have the Jacksonville Jaguars taken, young man?” John sits up a little straighter on the couch and leans in toward me.

  “Now you’ve done it,” Isabella groans loudly. “Come on, Madison, let’s go see if we can help Mom in the kitchen.” She carries my niece out on her hip, giving me a smile on her way out the door.

  “Okay, you’ve got me with the Jaguars.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “But you’re forgetting we still have two more teams who dominate the league.”

  “Dominate the league? Son, have you even watched a football game? Are we talking about the same sport?” he ribs me. “You know what, I know from experience there’s no sense that can be talked into a fan, so I’m gonna let this one go.” His eyes twinkle.

  “Well, I appreciate that, sir. I wouldn’t want to insult a man’s team when he’s about to feed me.” I smile.

  “Call me John, young man. Save the ‘sirs’ for the man who cuts your paycheck.” He leans back and rubs his eyes like he just woke up for a long afternoon nap. John rubs his hands down the legs of his black slacks. “You know, Colt”—he clears his throat loudly and runs his hand down the back of his hair—“I can see you’re a good kid. I’m sorry about the last time we met. I know I lost my temper there, and it didn’t make for a very good first impression.” He stares past me at the collection of family photos hanging on the wall.

  “I appreciate that, John. However, if I’m honest, I really think it’s Isabella who deserves your apology more than me. If you don’t mind me saying, you were awfully hard on her.”

  John nods but doesn’t respond. He just keeps looking at the photos of his family in a less complicated time. An era where Isabella and her sister still dressed up for Halloween and where John had less of a belly and more hair.

  Th-wap! “Waaahhhhh!”

  I jump to my feet as Madison’s cries fill the house.

  “What happened?” I scurry into the kitchen. A chair is knocked over and Isabella is crouched down beside Madison on the floor. With a scraped knee, Madison is wailing like an ambulance as Isabella scoops her up and carries her over to the dining room table, sitting her in one of the seats.

  “It’s just a little ouchie. It’s going to be okay. I’ll get you all fixed up here in no time.” Isabella soothes her, as Madison sniffles.

  “Oh my goodness, this is my fault. She wanted to watch me at the counter, so I pulled a chair over here for her. I should’ve known better.” Shirley twists her hands up in the dishcloth she’s holding.

  “Don’t worry about it. Kids fall. She’ll be fine,” I reassure her, but it doesn’t look like it’s working.

  “Mom, stop fretting and get a Band-Aid, please,” Isabella directs her mother. “Would you like to help me be a doctor and put a Band-Aid on your knee, Madison?”

  Still not entirely convinced this isn’t a life-threatening emergency, Madison sniffles a yes. As soon as Shirley returns with a box of Band-Aids, her eyes light up and her tears evaporate.

  “Stickers?” she asks gleefully, quickly forgetting the small cut on her knee.

  “Sort of. You’ve used these before, remember?” Isabella quickly wipes down the injured knee with a clean cloth and pulls a Band-Aid from the box. Once she has it securely fastened to one side of the scrape she looks up at Madison. “Oh, this is a big job for one person. Do you think you can help me attach this on the other side?” Guiding Madison’s hand to the sticky side, they flatten the Band-Aid down over her knee.

  “I all better now!” Madison smiles with tears still drying on her cheeks. It’s amazing how children can have such big, conflicting emotions within seconds.

  Isabella looks up to see she has an audience. Her parents and I are all watching from the doorway as she patches up the minor injury and saves the day. Madison suddenly realizes she’s the center of attention and jumps off the seat, ready to impress. “Wanna see me dance?” She doesn’t wait for a response, bouncing around in a circle with her arms shaking.

  “Wow, now those are some moves.” Shirley relaxes a little and enjoys watching the toddler put on a show.

  I look over at John, but his attention is firmly fixed to his daughter. His eyes have softened as he wordlessly watches her.

  “Okay, well, this wasn’t how I wanted to start our dinner.” Shirley points in the direction of the Band-Aids. “However, the food is ready, if everyone wants to dig in.”

  “I sit with Isabella!” my niece exclaims, stopping dead in her tracks and clinging back onto Isabella’s leg.

  “Sure, you can help me cut up my ham. I need a big girl to help me out.” Isabella smiles.

  “I a big girl.” Madison puffs her chest out proudly.

  Taking our seats at the table, everyone passes the food around until all the plates are full. I pick up my fork and knife to dig in, and the family stares at me in disbelief.

  “Colt, we’re going to say grace,” Isabella hisses at me, bowing her head over her folded hands.

  Madison follows her example and hangs her head over too, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

  I drop my cutlery and look down.

  John begins, “Lord, I would like to thank You for this food that we are blessed to eat while others struggle to fill their belly. We are thankful for Your grace and hope we can share Your example here on earth. Heavenly Father, I would like to especially thank You tonight for bringing my daughter home to me, and with her a beautiful family of her own. Thank You for giving us, for giving me”—his voice trembles—“the opportunity to seek salvation and share our love. Amen.”

  “Amen,” we mumble into our hands.

  I peer over at Isabella, whose eyes are misty as she watches her father across the other end of the table.

  “I bet you’re going to have a little girl,” Shirley intrudes on the moment, cutting her ham up into tiny chunks. “Wouldn’t that be funny, John? Let me tell you”—she changes her focus to me—“you’re gonna have your hands full if you have another girl. Won’t they, John? Two girls is a lot to handle.” She smiles before popping a piece of ham into her mouth.

  “They’re gonna do just fine,” John answers. “Isabella, you’re going to make a great mother,” he tells her softly. Isabella’s eyes tear up as she listens to her father. “I’ve seen you with this little one today”—he points his fork in Madison’s direction—“and if you ask me, you’re already doing a fine job.”

  “Thank you, Dad.” Isabella smiles.

  The weight of the world slides off her shoulders as she straightens up in her seat. As everyone at the table focuses on digging into the delicious meal, I still can’t pry my eyes off of Isabella. Her father is right. She’s going to make a great mother.

  A great mother and a perfect wife.

  37

  Isabella

  What a beautiful day. I watch as Colt and my father laugh together across the picnic table. My mother is completely immersed in reading a Dr. Seuss book to Madison on the grass.

  When Colt insisted we meet with my family today, I had no idea what to expect. He refused to share any of his plans with me, telling me the details were a secret.

  I’m not sure why it had to be such a mystery. I’m not complaining. This lunch in Central Park has been lovely. Howev
er, spending time with the entire family like this is hardly a covert mission.

  “I’m just going to take a little stroll with your father. We won’t be long.” Colt’s fingertips graze against my round belly.

  I arch my back and push my newly popped bump out proudly. It took almost six months to finally look pregnant and now I’m soaking up every second.

  “You two are going for a walk? Now?” my mother interrupts, looking over at Dad with her eyebrow cocked. “John, it’s starting to cloud in, and we still have to pack up the car.” She nods at the remnants of our family lunch strewn around.

  I gaze at the sky, at the fat, gray clouds she’s referring to hovering around the bright blue sky we’ve been enjoying all afternoon. We haven’t been alone, of course. On a gorgeous day like we were having it seems like all of Manhattan crams themselves into Central Park to catch a few rays. From the group yoga session we witnessed earlier across the field, to the hipster moms all pushing expensive strollers, it’s been a perfect day for people watching. Although, with Madison dancing and singing, it’s been hard for any of us to watch anything but her joyful face.

  “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll help you get this all tidied up. It won’t take long,” I reassure her. “Just make sure you guys don’t take too long. She’s right, you can see rain is on its way, and I don’t want to get caught in a downpour.” I look at Colt and my father. It’s nice to see them get along so well now. Since we went to dinner at their house nearly a month ago, family gatherings are becoming a regular routine.

  “We’ll be back in a jiffy.” My father rests his hand on my mother’s shoulder gently. “The boy wants to ask me something, and I think it’s only right that I hear him out.” He looks into her eyes, and they share a smile.

  I hope Colt and I still look at each other like that forty years from now.

  As the men disappear down the path together, I focus my attention on Madison. “Do you wanna play ponies?”

  She lifts her hopeful brown eyes at me. I swear, you can never play ponies enough with this girl. I’m pretty sure I could turn into a pony and she would still demand more.

  “Sure, you grab them out of your backpack over there.” I point to the little Dora the Explorer bag tucked under the table. “I’ve just gotta go use the washroom, but when I get back we’ll play. Okay?”

  Madison’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she lunges under the table to retrieve her toys.

  “Mom, can you keep your eye on her for a couple minutes? This baby is kicking at my bladder again.” I hold my hand on my swollen baby bump.

  “I’ll do you one better. I won’t just keep my eye on you,” she talks to Madison. “I’ll play ponies with you until Isabella gets back. How does that sound?”

  “Yay!” Madison enthusiastically approves of my mother’s plan.

  Making my way to the public washroom down the hill, the clouds seem to be rolling in quicker now. Just as my hand reaches the door, the first light sprinkles of rain mist against my face.

  Great, those guys better hurry up.

  Hopefully Mom just takes Madison to the car. The water reminds me of my uncomfortably full bladder, so I hurry inside to relieve myself.

  After flushing the toilet handle by giving it a little kick with my foot, I leave the stall and walk over to the sink. The exit door flings open and a woman walks in, looking like she was just dredged up from the depths of a dirty pond.

  “Wow, it must really be coming down out there!” I quickly rinse off my hands so I can get moving and help Mom toss the stuff in the car and get Madison squared away.

  “The rain is God’s baptism. It figures you would hide from it, since you whisper Satan’s words into the pharaoh’s ear.”

  My entire body shivers as my skin covers in gooseflesh. I turn and stare at the woman. With her stringy, soaked hair and deeply sunk, hollow eyes I hadn’t recognized her.

  “Lisa? Oh my God! What are you doing here?” My voice is shrill and echoing off the bathroom stalls.

  “Do not take Our Father’s name in vain!”

  She reaches in her pocket and my eyes grow wide as she pulls something out in her clenched palm. I look frantically at the door she’s blocking. The only way out of here is behind her. She flicks her wrist and it becomes clear what she’s yanked from her jeans as she opens a switchblade.

  “Shit! Lisa, don’t do this. You don’t know what you’re doing. Put down the knife,” I beg, my voice trembling as I back up toward the stall I just came out of slowly.

  “You took her from me. You took my child!”

  She lunges across the room at me, and I fall backward through the stall door and slam the door shut in her face. My fingers struggle to shut the flimsy lock, but I can’t get my grasp when Lisa is shoving all her weight against the other side.

  “You’re trying to take her to the darkness, to steal her away from the light,” she screams and throws herself into the door, managing to crack it open a little.

  “Help!” I shriek and my words reverberate around the room. “Fuck, someone help me! Help! She’s gonna stab me!” Tears streak down my face as I try with all my might to keep the metal barrier of the stall door between us, but for someone so wiry, she’s surprisingly strong.

  Lisa plows through the door and corners me in the back of the stall, feebly using the toilet to put space between us. I face the wall, trying to protect my belly from her knife and wildly scratch at the wall as if there’s a secret passage out of here I just need to find.

  “Lisa, please! I’m pregnant. You’re not just gonna hurt me. You’ll be hurting an innocent child. Help! Fuck! Help!” I scream again, praying that someone, anyone, will save me.

  “Your child will be okay. You would raise her in darkness, but I will bring her into the light. I’m going to take her from your belly, and I’ll save her life.”

  Lisa lunges across the toilet toward me, and I crouch down and twist around, pushing past her. My head snaps back as she palms a fistful of my hair, but I keep pulling forward in a desperate attempt to escape. She grabs my arm and flings me to the floor, jumping on my back like she’s mounting a horse. My heart races as my senses all narrow down to one purpose: to escape.

  I fling wildly, rolling over and knocking her off of my back and the knife skitters across the bathroom floor underneath the sinks. I start to push myself back up to run out of here before she has a chance to reclaim her weapon, but she shoves me down with her foot and knocks my forehead against the stall frame.

  “Lisa! What the fuck!” Colt’s voice booms around me, but I can’t move. “Isabella! Isabella! Are you okay?”

  I want his arms around me. To know that everything will be okay, but blood is pooling on the floor in front of my face and my vision is narrowing. I can hear Lisa screaming, and Colt’s and my father’s voices meld together in the distance as my sight shrinks inside of a black tunnel. I drop my head to the floor and everything goes dark.

  38

  Colt

  “Get out of the way!” I push past a growing crowd of people at the bathroom door. Most of them have their cell phones out, holding them out in front of them so they can record Isabella crumpled on the floor with a pool of blood collecting around her head. John is on my heels as I notice there’s a woman on her belly scurrying under the sinks to reach something… a knife!

  It takes every fiber of my being to hurry past Isabella over to the sinks. I want to hold her, to help her, to make everything okay. However, some crazy bitch wielding a knife can only make this worse.

  I run over to the woman slithering like a snake under the sinks and grab her feet, yanking her back. As soon as I drop her muddy shoes back to the grimy floor she is desperately grasping for the weapon again. I jump over her squirming, determined body and stomp on her hand with all of my weight.

  “Yowww! No, no, no! Her baby is going to grow up in darkness. I’m saving her from the pharaoh!” the dirty bag of bones shrieks as I look down in horror.

  “Lisa? What the fuck
are you doing here? Oh my God, you crazy bitch!” I glance over at Isabella. Dear Lord, please save Isabella and our baby.

  John is holding his daughter in his arms, but Isabella looks lifeless as he holds her, tears dripping from his chin down onto her face.

  “John, is she…” I leave the unasked question hanging in the humid air. I can’t bring myself to say the words.

  “She’s breathing, Colt.”

  “You took everything from me! I have nothing.” Lisa sobs and rage courses through my blood. I want to twist her frail neck until I hear her bones crackle. I want her to be out of my life forever. The thought flashes through my mind like a lightning storm. Instead, I drop my knee into the small of her back, pinning her in place as I twist her arms behind her.

  “Shut the fuck up, Lisa. You are the only one who ruined your life. You’re not a victim!” I twist my knee as I glance back at the real victim in the room and then over to the crowd of gawkers with their cell phones hovering around the door. “This isn’t a fucking movie! Someone call nine-one-one, for Christ’s sake.” I swear some people aren’t worth the air they breathe.

  “Heavenly Father, please let my baby stay. I’m not ready for her to go to you yet. I just got her back.” John’s voice cracks as he rocks Isabella in his arms like I’ve often held Madison when she wakes up from a bad dream.

  “Outta the way! Everyone move it. Now!” Two police officers burst into the bathroom, ordering the scum with phones to clear the way. One of the officers runs to my side. “Sir, I need you to stand up,” he demands, standing over me.

  “She’s dangerous. She attacked my fiancée with a knife. Look, it’s right there.” I nod to the switchblade hiding under the sinks. I try not to think about the engagement ring in my pocket and how Lisa may have robbed me of the only woman I’ve ever loved.

  “I have control of the situation, sir. I need you to clear out.”

  I drop Lisa’s arms like the foul garbage that she is and rush to Isabella’s side.