Promise, Texas

by Debbie Macomber

“You think I’m overreacting.”

  His accusation stung. “Have I said that?”

  “No, but I can tell what you’re thinking.”

  Jane got awkwardly to her feet. “I don’t know when you became a mind reader. You must’ve missed your calling in life, Cal Patterson. It just so happens I’m worried about your parents, too!”

  “You certainly have an odd way of showing it.”

  Jane pinched her lips, refusing to continue the argument. “This isn’t helpful, Cal.” She walked out of the room.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  “To make coffee.”

  “These are my parents, Jane,” he said again, following her into the kitchen. “How would you feel if this was happening to your mom and dad?”

  “What’s happening?” she cried. No one had had any real proof of anything. Cal and Glen had been talking, working themselves into a frenzy of worry, making illogical assumptions. They’d dragged Dovie into it, too. For the past week her husband had talked more with his mother’s friend than he had with her, his own wife.

  “You know something’s wrong.” He paused and stared at her. “You know something and you’re not telling me.”

  “Cal, I know nothing.” Not for certain, and she wasn’t about to heap additional worry on his already burdened shoulders.

  “You’re a doctor,” he said again.

  “That doesn’t make me a magician.”

  Her husband dragged out a kitchen chair and sat down at the table. Taking several deep breaths, Cal closed his eyes. “It seems as if I’m the one looking after my parents now.” He shook his head. “Or trying to.”

  “Your mom and dad are getting older. This is what sometimes happens—a kind of role reversal.”

  “Mom’s depressed.”

  Jane walked over and placed her hand on Cal’s shoulder. “I think you’re right. Your father seems depressed, too. But it’s not an uncommon side effect of aging.”

  “It’s more complicated than the two of them not getting along.”

  “I suspect so.”

  A vehicle could be heard pulling into the yard. “I don’t know what to do to help them,” Cal whispered. “That’s what’s so frustrating.”

  “I know.”

  Soon Ellie and Glen joined them in the kitchen. Johnny was home with a sitter, which told Jane the conversation was a serious one.

  Once Jane had poured coffee and passed around a plate of Dovie’s cookies, they all sat at the kitchen table.

  “Dad told me today that he and Mom won’t be attending the Cattlemen’s Dance this year,” Glen said.

  Cal nodded. “I don’t know why that surprises you. Mom and Dad have avoided all social functions for at least six months. Can anyone remember the last time they went out with their friends?”

  “Dovie says Mom barely talks to her anymore,” Ellie supplied.

  “Tell them what happened earlier this morning,” Glen urged his wife.

  Ellie stared down at her coffee. “Mom and Dad came into the feed store to pick up some fertilizer for the garden, and Dad was chatting with Lloyd Bonney about something or other. While Phil was busy, I was talking to Mom about Glen’s birthday, which is next week.”

  “She didn’t remember the date,” Glen cut in. “She actually had no clue what time of year I was born.”

  “Mom hasn’t been herself in months,” Cal said. “She’s depressed, forgetful, sometimes disoriented. This is more than the normal aging process, isn’t it?”

  All three looked at Jane. “I couldn’t possibly answer that without giving her a full medical exam and arranging for some tests.” She couldn’t say the dreaded word—Alzheimer’s. Not yet.

  “Even if you did know, you wouldn’t say,” Cal muttered accusingly.

  Jane disregarded the pain she felt at his anger and refused to answer such a loaded question. There was nothing she could do unless Mary submitted voluntarily to those tests.

  The following afternoon Jane left the clinic and made an unexpected visit to her in-laws. Phil answered the door, but didn’t show any pleasure at seeing her. He stood in the doorway, blocking her entry into the house.

  “Do you have a few minutes?” she asked, surprised when he didn’t step aside or invite her in.

  “Actually, I was just leaving.”

  “I’d love to visit with Mary,” Jane said.

  “She’s coming with me.”

  Jane hesitated, then walked over and sat down in one of the big wicker chairs positioned on the veranda. She gazed out at the town park for a moment, with its stately oaks and lush green foliage.

  “Is she that bad?” Jane asked softly.

  Phil tensed, then walked over to the porch railing, his back toward her.

  “Don’t insult my intelligence by telling me I’m imagining things,” she said. She’d suspected for several months that Mary’s problems were related to the onset of Alzheimer’s disease.

  Phil was quiet so long she wasn’t sure he was going to speak. “How did you know?” he finally asked.

  “I’ve wondered for a while. Wasn’t it a year ago that Mary hurried out of church, positive she’d left the freezer door open?”

  “About then.”

  “And it wasn’t open, was it? I remember everyone laughed about it.”

  Phil nodded miserably.

  “The last time I saw her by myself, she couldn’t recall the phone number to the ranch.”

  “We had that phone number for nearly thirty-five years.” The sadness in his voice was enough to break Jane’s heart.

  “There’ve been changes in her personality,” Jane said. “Small ones at first.” Mary had always possessed a sharp wit, one Jane had admired. These days, Mary was vague and she often wore a confused look. A number of times Jane had been certain that it took her mother-in-law a moment to place her, to remember that she was Cal’s wife.

  “So you’ve noticed the difference in her personality, too?”

  “I’m afraid so, Phil.”

  “If you have, then so have others,” he mumbled.

  “You can’t protect her forever.”

  “I know.” He turned around and sat in the wicker chair next to Jane, then buried his face in his hands. “The other day she got dressed and forgot to put on her brassiere. When I told her, she got so embarrassed and upset, I didn’t know what to do.”

  “You’re doing the housework and cooking?”

  He nodded. “At first she couldn’t remember the recipes she’s made for years. She’d leave out an ingredient or two, and we’d laugh it off. Then she damn near burned the house down, leaving a pot on a burner.”

  “There are medications that can help.”

  “I know all that. I’m looking into it, doing everything I can.”

  Jane didn’t want Phil to think she was being critical. “Is she under a doctor’s care?”

  “Dr. John Curtis in San Antonio. We made our first visit two months ago.”

  Jane had heard the name and knew he was a respected physician who specialized in geriatric care, especially with Alzheimer’s patients. “How long do you intend to keep this from Cal and Glen?” she asked, wanting him to realize what the situation—and his secrecy—was doing to his family. His sons had a right to know, and it wasn’t her place to tell them.

  “I’ll talk to them soon.”

  Jane patted his hand gently. The stress had taken its toll on Phil—that much was obvious. He’d lost weight and the shadows beneath his eyes were testament to his ordeal. “Please, Phil. They deserve the truth about their mother,” she urged. “And once they know, they can help her—and you.”

  “I know I should have told them before.”

  Jane agreed with a nod but didn’t judge him. It was his love for Mary that had made Phil hide her illness.

  “Promise me you’ll let me be the one to tell Cal and Glen, in my own time and my own way.”

  Jane hesitated.

  “Promise me,” he pressed. “Mary is th
e mother of my sons. I should be the one to tell them.”

  “I agree with you, and I promise,” Jane said. She just hoped he’d talk to them within the next few days. She would keep Phil’s secret and pray that Cal never learned how much she knew.

  CHAPTER 11

  The hall at First Christian Church was crowded with women, their chatter echoing inside the cavernous room where many social functions were held.

  The annual June quilting bee was one of Savannah’s favorites. The finished quilts were auctioned later in the year and the money given to local charities. Laredo, Savannah’s husband, joked that quilting bees were just the women’s excuse to visit, and to some extent Savannah thought he was right. These days, she rarely had this much undivided time to spend with her friends.

  Amy McMillen, Nell Grant, Jane Patterson and Savannah worked together at one table, cutting pieces for a quilt top, while Caroline, Ellie and other women sewed them together. The sound of their machines hummed pleasantly in the room.

  Savannah looked up from her task to note that her group seemed rather solemn compared to the other tables. “Hey, guys,” she said cheerfully, “we should be having fun.”

  “I’m having a great time,” Nell insisted with a dour look.

  “Me, too,” Amy echoed forlornly. “A really great time.”

  “So am I,” Jane added, sounding equally miserable.

  Savannah put her scissors down and folded her arms. “All right, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Jane answered. “Not a single solitary thing.”

  The truth was, Savannah’s spirits were low, too. Thoughts of Richard weighed her down, despite her best efforts to forget him. Perhaps if she stopped dwelling on her own troubles….

  “Amy, you look kind of discouraged. Do you want to talk about it?”

  The pastor’s wife met Savannah’s gaze haltingly, but it wasn’t long before she glanced away.

  “A burden shared is a burden lightened,” Nell said.

  “Exactly,” Jane agreed, then seemed to realize what she’d said and quickly closed her mouth.

  “Okay,” Amy finally said. “It’s my mother again. She phoned just so she could tell me that I’m doing a terrible job being a mother to Joey and Sarah.”

  Outraged cries echoed around the table, and Amy’s spirits appeared to lift. “I know I’m a good mom and I love my children, but this kind of conversation is typical of my mother. I know I shouldn’t let her get me down—but I can’t help it. She’s always attacking me, making me feel bad about myself. It’s one of the reasons I only invite her to my home once or twice a year. She’s so negative and she can’t let a single conversation pass without making a derogatory comment about me or my family.” She sighed. “I don’t tell Wade all this because he’d just refuse to let my mother visit at all. And tempting as that is, I do feel sorry for her, and I feel…some obligation, I guess.”

  Everyone offered words of encouragement to the pastor’s wife, who was much loved by everyone in Promise. Savannah could well imagine what Wade would say if he knew what kinds of things his mother-in-law said about his wife. The thought of his reaction was enough to bring a smile to her face.

  “Okay, Nell,” Savannah said, “what about you?”

  “Me?” Nell protested. “Oh, all right.” She stiffened her spine and Savannah noticed the way her fingers tightened around the scissors. “Travis’s ex-wife is coming to visit.”

  “Here in Promise?”

  Her announcement was followed by a chorus of groans.

  “That’s not the half of it,” Nell muttered, cutting a piece of yellow floral fabric with determination and speed. “The worst part is I was the one who invited her to stay with us.”

  “Why’s she coming?” Amy asked.

  Nell shrugged. “I don’t really know—but I think she’s decided she wants Travis back.”

  Savannah scoffed at the idea. She’d seen for herself the love in Travis’s eyes every time he looked at Nell. He was crazy about his wife and family and wasn’t afraid to show it.

  “You haven’t got a thing to worry about,” she said.

  “I know that in my heart, and then I remember the picture I once saw of Val and…well, she’s beautiful.”

  “Don’t discount yourself,” Savannah advised her friend. “And remember you’re the one Travis loves.”

  Nell smiled and she did seem a little relieved.

  “What about you, Savannah?” Jane asked. “You haven’t been yourself all morning.”

  “I haven’t?” she said, although she knew Jane was right.

  “Yeah, you,” Amy confirmed. “You’re not going to escape this.”

  Savannah hesitated, wondering how much to say. “Grady and I recently heard from Richard.”

  That captured her friends’ attention.

  Jane was incredulous. “After all this time?”

  Savannah nodded. “Let me tell you, his letter was something of a shock.”

  “What did he have to say for himself?” Amy wanted to know, then added, “That is, if you don’t mind talking about it.”

  “No, I don’t. Richard said what he always says. He made a lot of sincere-sounding apologies and promises.”

  “So what does he want this time?” The skeptical question came from Nell, who unlike most people in town had never been fooled by Richard.

  “Nothing, or so he claims. Just that he’s sorry and he’s changed his ways.”

  “Don’t you believe it,” Nell insisted.

  “Grady and I don’t.”

  “So he’s seen the error of his ways, has he?” Jane was no less skeptical.

  “Well, it’s what he says.” But Savannah had believed Richard before and paid dearly for her faith in him.

  “It must be hard, when you so badly want to believe him,” Amy said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your brother since you mentioned him and that letter. Both Wade and I’ve been praying about the situation.”

  “Thank you,” Savannah said. Forgiving Richard was one thing, but making her family, her friends and herself vulnerable to him was another entirely. Had there been any evidence, something that proved the truth of his claims—like an effort to reach the very people he’d hurt most—she might be inclined to trust him, at least a little. But she knew that wasn’t the case.

  “Jane?” Nell looked at her, and to everyone’s surprise Jane’s eyes welled with tears.

  “Jane,” Savannah said, taking her hand. “What is it?”

  She shook her head, clearly embarrassed by the emotional display. “Cal and I had an argument before I left the house. It was nothing and I’m sure everything will have worked itself out by the time I get home. It’s just that…with the pregnancy and all…”

  “You’re more emotional than usual,” Nell said.

  Jane nodded and dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

  Savannah wasn’t nearly so sure. Usually by the sixth month, a woman’s hormones were more balanced.

  “The big dance is next Saturday night,” Amy said. “I say we shake off our worries and kick up our heels.”

  “Forget all our troubles,” Nell added.

  “Hear, hear,” Jane said between sniffles.

  Savannah laughed. “You’re right. We’re going to have the time of our lives.”

  “What’s the matter, Daddy?” Heather asked Lucas as he placed the dinner plates in the dishwasher.

  Hollie handed him her silverware and gazed up at him. “Are you sad, Daddy?”

  Lucas wasn’t aware his worries were this noticeable to his children. “Mrs. Delaney is moving to Kansas to live with her son,” he told his daughters. The housekeeper had given her notice that night when he got home.

  “Yeah, we know,” Heather said. “Mrs. Delaney is going to live with Larry and his wife. She’s real excited about it, too.”

  Apparently his children knew more of the details than he did himself. But apparently they hadn’t yet made the connection—if the housekeeper left Promise, she wou
ldn’t be there to look after them.

  “She’s got three grandchildren in Kansas.” Hollie relayed additional facts with all the finesse of a television reporter. “She misses them, too.”

  “I know she does.” But not nearly as much as Lucas was going to miss Mrs. Delaney. What on earth would he do now? Especially with school out for the summer.

  “We know who we want to be our new housekeeper,” Heather said as she carried her empty milk glass from the table.

  This was encouraging news. Perhaps the girls knew about someone he didn’t, a school friend’s mother or older sister. “Who?”

  “Annie!” Heather shouted gleefully.

  “Annie!” Hollie chorused.

  Lucas groaned. This entire situation was impossible. Mrs. Delaney had promised to stay on until he found a replacement, which was a relief, but at the same time he didn’t want to keep the older woman away from her grandchildren. He intended to place an ad in the local paper and start the interviewing process, but he hated the thought of turning his daughters’ care over to strangers.

  “We like Annie more than anyone around here,” Hollie said, “and she reads real good. If she was the housekeeper, she could read us a story every day. Not like Mrs. Delaney.”

  Lucas was trying to find a way to explain to his daughters why Annie couldn’t be their housekeeper. “Well, Annie has a job, you know, a job that’s very important to her. She runs the bookstore and that means she has to work every day.”

  Heather regarded him thoughtfully. “Could Annie be our new mother, then?” she asked.

  Hollie’s eyes instantly lit up. “Could she, Daddy, could she?”

  “Ah…” Lucas didn’t think he’d ever been so taken aback by any of his daughters’ ideas. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” they asked in unison.

  “Well, because—”

  “We like her better than any lady in the whole world, not including Mommy and Grandma Porter,” Heather said.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Will you think about it?” Heather asked, pleading with him.

  “That won’t do any good.”

  “Please, Daddy, oh, please,” Hollie begged, folding her hands prayerfully and looking up at him with an intensity that almost broke his heart.