The Promise

by JM Dragon

  She smiled, knowing exactly what Claire would say—she was a naïve idiot but a nice one. Her friend had called her that several times over the period they had spent together.

  “Jess, I’ve had a long day. Do you mind if I head home? We can get together next week for coffee. What do you say?”

  Jess sighed and dropped her hand. “Sure, give me a call when you are free. You know where I’ll always be and at what time.”

  Kris looked down at her free hand and felt ashamed. Perhaps she was being…. What? Even she couldn’t put a name on it. Crazy, I’m crazy. “I’ve enjoyed my evening, Jess, truly I have.”

  “Yeah right, and most of that was with Fern. Look, I need to go or they will come looking.” Jess retreated to the entrance and didn’t hesitate as she opened the door and entered.

  Kris blinked rapidly as Jess left. This had been a confusing evening in one way or another. As she gazed at the glittering canopy above her, she grinned.

  “I love being here, even with the puzzling relationships I’ve managed to forge.” She chuckled softly. “Who would have thought it that plain old Kris Lake actually has a life outside of her meager apartment?”

  The words seemed to float like fairy dust in the air as she turned toward the parking lot, then decided to call a cab. She’d had three glasses of champagne and a glass of wine. Even out here in the boonies, the cops might be on patrol. Shirley would never forgive her for driving her car inebriated.

  She headed back inside to the reception area to call a cab.

  †

  Shirley focused on her book, an old faithful, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. It might have been written in the mid-1800s, but it still had that innocent appeal of romance trumping the system. Life threw curveballs, and indeed in this novel, several. Yet strangely, modern romances mirrored at least in part the phenomenon of love traversing the human condition of not being perfect.

  “My Ricky saw just that,” she muttered. She began to read about Mr. Rochester riding over the moors and encountering Jane for the first time.

  The sound of a vehicle churning up the drive startled her, and she threw down her Kindle on the coverlet. She flicked the curtain aside and looked down at the driveway.

  Eventually she saw Kris alight from the taxi. A few minutes later, she heard the young woman take the staircase and uncharacteristically slam the door of her bedroom.

  “Oh, well, I warned her.” Sighing, she nodded. “My dear, you will be okay. I’m certain of it. I wonder what’s happened to my car. Hmm.” Shirley settled back into bed. “Let’s see how long it will be before she arrives.”

  As the Kindle slipped from her fingers and sleep crooked its finger, beckoning her to the abyss that allowed the body to rest, Shirley thought of a specific quote from her beloved book. “There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.”

  About to succumb to the darkness, she heard a vehicle slowly crunch the gravel. Blinking rapidly to starve off sleep for a few minutes, she heard the front door open and the vehicle speed away. There were no rapid steps up the staircase as with the previous entrant; no, in fact, silence abounded.

  “You made the right choice, Claire,” Shirley mumbled and allowed sleep to finally take her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Shirley moved the bacon around on the griddle and added a couple of eggs. Kris loved eggs. Claire had snarled the first time she had offered them to her, and Shirley smiled at the memory.

  “Wow, you must have had a good night. All smiles and it’s only eight thirty,” Claire flippantly remarked as she sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs.

  Shirley switched her gaze from the sizzling food to the woman. “From your expression, you didn’t have the same.”

  “Hmm, it was and wasn’t. Don’t you think it’s weird to tell someone the truth but at the same time feel terrible for doing so?”

  Shirley waved her spatula. “Life, Claire, is never easy. What you believe is the truth can be someone else’s lie and they can settle for maintaining that and making everyone else feel guilty about it.”

  “No, no, Racheal isn’t like that. She wanted to start again.” Claire dropped her head into her hands. “I have a headache from all that bourbon.”

  Shirley gazed at the broken woman, a far cry from the spoiled teenager who had refused her eggs at seventeen. No, she had grown up to be a woman who at this time in life was worth saving. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. You didn’t want to go back, presumably.”

  “Back, how the hell can I go back? I’m a wreck of a woman compared to what I was then. I need to move on.” Claire dragged her fingers through her hair. “I need to find my place in this life. I think I might—”

  “Good grief, am I late?”

  Shirley drew in a breath of fresh air; fresh air were the right words to describe Kris. She was exactly what she said she was. Some would say she was average, nothing extraordinary. Yet isn’t everyone extraordinary in their own way?

  “I’m late. Sorry. My watch has stopped and I need a new battery. Plus, I walked into town to fetch your car. Sorry, I had a couple of drinks and decided it was safer to come home by cab last night.” Kris quickly took her seat opposite Claire at the table.

  “Excellent call, and, no, you are not late. Look, we haven’t eaten. Did you have a good night?” Shirley turned her attention back to the food she was cooking. Darn, some of that bacon is scorched.

  “Well, it was and wasn’t.”

  “It wasn’t? Sounds like my evening,” Claire said.

  “Yeah sure, what did you and Shirley do, watch reruns of Xena or Jane Eyre? I’ve seen the DVD collection here.” Kris chuckled.

  “I’ll have you know, young minx, Jane is my heroine.” Shirley winked at Kris.

  Kris smiled and looked at Claire. “You had to watch the old stuff, right? Once was not enough.”

  “Jane Eyre might be my heroine too, if I ever read the book or saw the movie,” Claire stated blandly.

  Shirley switched off the heat and stared at Claire, seeing that Kris’s eyes almost popped. “Well bless me, I’m going to have to educate you, young woman. The love interest might not be your cup of tea, but my Jane Eyre and her fortitude…well, no woman worth her salt should ever say she hasn’t read this story.”

  Claire held up her hands. “Okay, okay, it’s Sunday, why don’t we have a good old-fashioned Sunday afternoon veg in front of the TV and watch this darn movie. Are you both game?”

  Kris grinned. “Hmm, sounds interesting to me. Which version do you have, Shirley?”

  Shirley switched her attention back to the food and plated it. Before she could take it to the table, Claire arrived at her side and took one of the plates.

  “I might not be able to handle two, but I can certainly take one,” Claire whispered.

  Shirley smiled. “That you can. Thank you for the help.”

  Claire nodded and placed the plate in front of Kris. “Had to be yours. Two eggs, right?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Shirley positioned hers and Claire’s on the table and sat. “Enjoy, my dears.”

  A chorus of thanks and they began to eat.

  “So, Shirley, which version?” Kris asked.

  Shirley soaked a piece of toast in her egg yolk. “Well, I have a wonderful version from 1943, with Orson Wells and Joan Fontaine, but it’s black and white and you modern girls like your color versions. I do have a 1996 version with Willian Hurt and Charlotte Gainsbourg. It’s very good. Then of course there are the TV series’. I do so love the BBC versions. Period dramas are their specialty.”

  Claire chuckled. “I have to say I never knew this book was so popular. Just how many versions are there?”

  Kris grinned, waving a piece of toast in the air. “Way too many to mention, I suspect. A great question for a quiz. Oh, did you know they do a quiz at the local bar, Curiosity, on Tuesday evenings? Do you both like quizzes?”
/>
  “Not me, my dear. I’m not a bar or quiz person, never have been.” Shirley shrugged and watched Claire stare at Kris.

  “Never been to one. Does that mean I might actually get a first here?” Claire asked.

  “You have had many firsts here in the past,” Shirley retorted.

  Claire faintly blushed. “Yeah right. Well, I was here at puberty, so that would work.”

  “You’ve been coming here since you were a baby, and there were lots of firsts.”

  “Thank you, Shirley. Does that mean you will be getting out the baby pics later?” Claire sarcastically replied.

  Kris frowned. “I don’t think she was being facetious.”

  Shirley waved away Kris’s words. “I can if you want. However, that will only happen when you bring home the person you will be spending the rest of your life with. Eat, or breakfast will be cold.”

  †

  Kris flipped a stone into the sea. It tanked as the memory of her dad attempting to teach her how to skim a stone on water came to mind. He had been so patient. She’d made only one good shot that she recalled.

  They had had a late summer vacation at Long Beach. At least they’d stayed near the area but spent the days on the beach. She had been ten. The innocent age when her dad loved her for who she was, not what she was. She wiped away a tear. “I miss you, Dad.”

  Kris skimmed another stone and watched in amazement as it went the farthest any ever had. “You would be proud of me for this, yet not the woman I became. How crazy is that.” She turned and looked toward the house and moved seventy degrees to see the tip of the cottage. “If only life was fair to everyone.”

  She picked up another stone and this time laughed as it barely reached the water.

  †

  Claire leafed through the DVD collection next to the TV and was amazed at what she found.

  “Jesus, Dawson’s Creek. Wow, I loved Andie McPhee. She is a very hot woman. I wonder what she does now?” She flicked through a few that didn’t register with her. They must be Shirley’s.” Then she clutched a case and dragged it to her chest. She slowly turned it to face her and gazed at it, entranced.

  “I love you, Sarah Connor. Hell, you are my heroine. This Jane Eyre better be a badass.” She placed Terminator 2 to one side. Her cell vibrated, and she pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID. Racheal.

  She waited until the tone ended. Then heard another ding indicating that she had a voice mail. She looked long and hard at the screen. Shall I delete or listen? Dilemma after dilemma. She pressed Delete.

  †

  Claire bent forward on the sofa and shook her head. “I love the premise, and yes, Jane Eyre is pretty darn tough. She’s almost on a par with one of my other movie heroines but not quite…no guns.”

  Kris laughed. “May enquiring minds ask who that might be, or do we need to guess?”

  Claire turned to look at Kris seated in the recliner to her left. She looks like she always does, except she’s beautiful. Crazy, I’m crazy.

  “I suppose you will make us guess.” Shirley smiled as she struggled out of the high-backed, tartan-upholstered chair “I’m going to make dinner. I’ll leave the guessing games to the both of you.”

  “Do you need help?” Kris jumped out of her chair.

  “No, please. I enjoy my kitchen and cooking, especially for more than one.” Shirley moved to stand beside the door. “Your grandmother called. She said to expect her to inspect your work in a couple of weeks. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” She left the room.

  “Cripes, your grandmother might think we are slacking. Maybe we should have worked today instead of vegging out.” Kris bit her lip.

  Claire shook her head before settling back in the sofa. “We’ve done great…no, let me rephrase that, you have. Although I have done as much as I can.”

  “Oh, Claire, you’ve done lots. It’s a team effort, right?” Kris smiled.

  Kris’s smile traveled across her face to her eyes. She really is quite beautiful. How on earth did I ever think that she’s plain? Then she recalled a part of the movie they had watched, and somehow it was pertinent. “I am strangely glad to get back again to you: and wherever you are is my home—my only home.”

  “Team effort, right?” The tentative words pierced her.

  “Yeah, sorry, team effort.” Claire concentrated on Kris and the burning question in her mind for the last twenty-four hours. “How was your date?”

  Kris frowned, averting her profile.

  “That bad. I’m sorry.”

  “No.” Kris turned back immediately, her face flushed. “Jess was upset because I met someone from the beach and we were drinking champagne, and oh, well, it was innocent, but….”

  Claire’s stomach double flipped. Where did she meet someone else? I thought it was only this Jess person in town. “I see. Well, I guess she might be upset at that…I think.”

  Kris retrieved the disc from the player. “I have a feeling Jess has a history with Fern, and as absurd as this sounds, is jealous.”

  “Why absurd?” Claire softly asked, her eyes riveted to Kris moving in front of the blank TV screen.

  “Look at me. I’m hardly the type anyone would fight over. Besides, have you seen the two of them? They are gorgeous. They can have anyone. Ah right, sorry, you haven’t met them.” The quietly spoken words had an edge.

  “No, no, I haven’t. Maybe I should and put them right.” Claire drew in a shallow breath. What the hell am I doing? This is just like me, or the me I was.

  “Don’t be silly, Claire, it’s nothing. Jess and I weren’t really on a date. It was friends having dinner. I bet you do that all the time.”

  Claire settled back in the sofa. “Not anymore, and even back then friends were few and far between. Racheal and I met at Columbia University, and I suppose it was a comfortable relationship. No surprises, if you know what I mean.”

  Kris turned and sat on the floor and gazed at her. “I wish I did. I never went to a university or a college, as I mentioned. Finances were always tight, and when my family found out about me being a lesbian, the money pot leaked and voilà, no money for my further education.”

  Claire moved off the sofa, sat in front of Kris, and touched a pale cheek. “Parents don’t know everything. They think they do, but they don’t. I’m sorry, Kris.”

  For a few moments, they stayed connected until Kris moved her face away. “Yeah, thanks. Still, at least you have had those moments, and that’s good.”

  “Kris, you deserve the same. More so,” Claire adamantly replied.

  Silence invaded the room for a few moments more than there should have been, and then Kris said, “Don’t patronize me, Claire. Look, I need to check on the paintwork at the cottage before dinner.” She stood in one lithe movement and strode to the door.

  “I didn’t mean to sound patronizing, Kris. I believe in you, and I think you were poorly treated last night.” Claire struggled to get up. For some reason her body refused to act when she told it too.

  “I was treated as well as a person like me can expect to be treated. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Claire watched Kris leave the room and wiped a hand across her mouth in disdain. How the hell can you expect her to understand compassion from you when you are worse than Jess and Fern? Now why does that name seem familiar? Damn, I hate this memory loss.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Early autumn skies over the ocean were stupendous, filled with long, white, wispy clouds bursting into deep blue or orange splashes as the sun set. Tonight the clouds were blue. Glorious brightness just before darkness fell over the cottage.

  In a subtle way, it mirrored Kris’s life at this moment. Her cell phone rang and she immediately answered. “Hi.”

  “Kris, it’s me, Jess. Any chance we can catch up tonight?”

  “I’m sorry, Jess, not tonight. I’m busy.”

  There was a brief pause. “I’m sorry about last night, I figured you’d be upset.”

&n
bsp; “Yes, I know you’re sorry, and I’m not upset. Look, how about we meet up at Curiosity on Tuesday evening and take in the quiz you mentioned? I think Claire will come too. I want you to meet her. Is that okay?”

  “Sure, I’d like to meet your friend Claire.”

  “Great, see you at seven outside. Take care, Jess.”

  Kris sighed as she placed her phone in her pocket and then looked toward Seasons where a few lights burned. Two weeks and I go home…home. Hmm. The only thing I miss about New York is Knight.

  “I miss you, Knight, big-time.” She turned and trudged back to the main house.

  †

  Claire sat in her usual spot after dinner—the wicker sofa in the conservatory. Under normal circumstances Kris and Shirley joined her, at least for a short while. Tonight she wasn’t so sure Kris would since she’d been reticent during dinner.

  Her hand touched her most prominent scar. It meandered down her right cheek like a river. The protrusion of skin where the stiches had held that part of her face together, though not as angry after two years, still informed her that the event had happened.

  She smiled and felt the skin on the right side of her face, which didn’t move. She thought it made her smile lopsided. Once she’d recovered enough to see people, she had arrogantly thought no one would care about her appearance. They had.

  How could she forget the debacle of Racheal’s reaction to going for a simple walk in the park together? It was on par with the train wreck.

  Claire snorted at the irony of her thoughts. “Train wreck is right. What’s the saying? ‘A train wreck waiting to happen.’ Darn, I beat that one and I’ve worn the T-shirt on my face ever since.” Focusing on the tranquil backdrop of a sky filled with stars should have eased her churning thoughts of the trauma of the accident. It didn’t. “Go figure.”

  The door to the conservatory opened, and Shirley walked in with a tray. It only had two mugs and a side plate of cookies. Her favorite chocolate chip, probably. Kris always refused them.