Promises to Keep

by Shirley Hailstock

  * * *

  AS SHE AND PARKER neared the Oklahoma state line, McKenna was still thinking about Joanna. She wondered if there was another email from her, but refused to ask Parker to check. Surely Parker would tell her if he’d discovered there was mail.

  McKenna brought her attention back to the road. She pulled the car into a gas station with a diner attached. They’d seen many of these on their trip so far. The gas stations were often old, but most sported new self-service pumps. It was breakfast time and her stomach was telling her it was time to eat.

  Getting out of the car, she stretched her back. Looking around, she noticed the land had become very flat. Used to seeing highrises in Chicago, the buildings around her were mainly two-story offices and other smaller businesses.

  “Why don’t you go get a table?” Parker suggested. “I’ll fill the tank.”

  Nodding, she saw the lot was full of cars and trucks. McKenna halted on the threshold of the diner. From the outside, the place looked as if it was held together by a wing and a prayer. But the food must be good, because as McKenna stepped through the entrance she saw there was only one empty table in the place. Curious eyes followed her. She sat down, pulling the stained menu from between a napkin holder and an old tabletop jukebox.

  Ten minutes after she sat down, no one had come to take her order or offer her coffee. McKenna kept her eyes on the room. There was no waitress. A woman came out of the kitchen, dropped a few plates at two tables and rushed back the same way she had come.

  McKenna understood. The place was shorthanded. Maybe someone was ill or had quit. In any case, the place was a one-woman show. McKenna smiled. She stood up. The bell over the door rang, indicating new customers arriving. McKenna noted the couple standing in the doorway, the sun behind them casting a silhouette.

  “There’s a free table right here,” she said as if she was the maitre’d.

  She didn’t wait for them to take seats, but headed for the door marked Employees Only. Inside on the facing wall were several hooks holding aprons. Above them was a table map for the diner. McKenna took a moment to study it before grabbing the cleanest apron and tying it on. She walked toward the sound of sizzling bacon and frying eggs.

  The woman glanced up at her as she approached.

  “You cook it. I’ll serve it,” McKenna said, washing her hands.

  The woman stared dumbfounded as McKenna quickly scanned the order ticker and stacked three plates along her left arm and took two in her right hand. Backing out the door, applause greeted her. Finding the correct tables, she served the customers their food.

  Parker entered as she set the last plate down and headed to the kitchen for more. He stood gaping at her with a confused look on his face.

  “Miss, may I have more coffee?” someone said as she passed a table.

  “Sure,” McKenna answered. Then to Parker, she murmured. “Go wash your hands, grab a pot of coffee and fill every cup in the place.”

  “I won’t ask why,” he said.

  “Later,” she told him. “Right now, we need all the hands we can get.”

  Without argument, Parker followed her instructions. He was back on the floor as she came out with the second set of plates. When customers left, Parker manned the computerized cash register. The two of them took orders and dished out breakfasts as if they did this on a daily basis. The truth was McKenna hadn’t waited tables since she was in college. But, she learned, that once a waitress, the skills were only dormant. They remain ready for reconstitution whenever necessary. And today they had been called into action.

  The morning rush ended at 10:30.

  “I don’t know where you came from, but I never look a gift horse in the mouth.” Both McKenna and Parker observed the woman who’d emerged from the kitchen. She’d taken a moment to restore her hair and wipe the shine from her face. She was average height, wearing tennis shoes, khaki pants and a sleeveless purple top. Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled into a knot on the top of her head and covered with a hairnet. She wore lipstick that might have been fresh when she’d started the day, but she’d eaten it off to the point that only a thin line outlined her mouth.

  “Hungry?” the woman asked.

  “Starving,” Parker said.

  “I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up and taken charge. I didn’t have time to conduct interviews, cook, serve and be the cashier. So, what are your names?”

  “McKenna Wellington and Parker Fordum.” McKenna glanced toward Parker.

  The woman offered her hand. “Sherry Granger,” she said.

  “What happened?” Parker asked.

  “My daughter was coming out to help me, but something came up and she can’t get here for a week. My waitress is on maternity leave. The baby was born early this morning, three weeks ahead of schedule. I have a backup, but she’s out of town for another week.”

  “Murphy’s Law,” Parker said.

  The woman nodded.

  “Are you the owner?” McKenna asked.

  “Lock, stock and two barrels,” she quipped. “Are you two staying around here?”

  “We’re on our way to California,” McKenna explained.

  “We came for gas and food,” Parker added.

  “You’ve obviously worked as a waitress before, and you took to the cash register as if you’d worked it from day one. If you’re not in an all-out hurry, could you stick around for a week?”

  Parker and McKenna looked at each other. Their luck appeared to have changed. “Are you offering each of us a job?” McKenna asked.

  “I know it’s temporary and I can’t pay you much.” She mentioned an hourly rate that should have insulted them both, but McKenna was grateful for it.

  “Of course, you can keep all the tips you make.” She sweetened the offer, looking questioningly between the two of them. “This sure would help me out.”

  “Don’t you want references or something?”

  “If you’d planned to rob me, you had every opportunity. And I’m desperate. I can’t afford to close or lose the customers I have. This is my livelihood.” She looked around. “It’s not much, but it’s mine.”

  “Deal,” McKenna said, offering her a wide smile.

  “Great,” she smiled, too. “Lunch starts at eleven o’clock. We’re really busy from eleven-thirty till two. After that we have a reprieve until dinner, and that starts at four-thirty and ends about eight. We clean up and close at nine. It’s a long day, but if you’re up to it, you’ll save my butt.”

  McKenna looked at Parker and then they both nodded.

  “Great. Now, how about some breakfast?”

  * * *

  BY THE TIME the last dish was washed and placed in the cabinet, when the last machine had been cleaned and sanitized, when the floors had been swept and washed and all the salt and pepper shakers filled, McKenna was exhausted. She groaned as she stumbled into the room she and Parker had secured between lunch and dinner. Dropping her purse on a chair, she collapsed facedown on her bed. Every muscle in her body screamed for attention. She hadn’t worked as hard as she had today since she and Marshall had spent twenty-four-hour days getting their business off the ground. But back then she’d been right out of college. That was a decade ago and the muscles she’d used then had long since refused the call to action.

  Parker had moved their meager possessions into an ancient boardinghouse Sherry had told them about. McKenna had carried her clot
hes in the canvas bag that the robber had left unscarred.

  Since she and Parker were going to be here for at least the next seven days, she didn’t want to spend them in a motel. Other than the safety factor, which still bothered her, they had to be careful of their finances. After that first bumpy night, things appeared to be on solid ground ever since. They had jobs again and a secure place to stay.

  “Tired?” Parker asked.

  “I don’t think I can move,” she said, her voice muffled into the covers. Raising her head to speak was too much of an effort. And her neck muscles would surely protest.

  “I haven’t worked like that in years.”

  McKenna opened an eye and spied him. He sat on the twin bed next to hers.

  “You don’t look very tired,” she said.

  “I’m used to being on my feet for twelve hours a day.”

  McKenna closed her eyes. She wouldn’t have thought it. He sat so often, typing on his computer. He looked natural in a chair. She wondered what he would be like in a classroom. She thought of moving, getting up and showering, washing the smell of the diner grease from her hair and clothes, but the effort seemed too much. She’d wait a minute, then get up.

  “You’d think, after the sheet factory, that I’d be more in shape,” she said. “But most of my time was spent in the office.”

  Parker moved. She felt his presence shift, although she didn’t open her eyes. She thought he was headed for the bathroom. She’d have to wait, but that was fine, since moving required a herculean effort she was not willing to work at. Then she felt his weight anchor her bed down. She jerked up, twisting around to see what he was doing.

  “It’s all right,” he whispered, soothing her.

  Gently he removed her shoes and began massaging her feet. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his hands. They were large and sure, warm to the touch. The warmth spread from her toes up her legs. It felt wonderful. Tension left her body as she relaxed and gave herself up to his ministrations. Sensations, delicious and otherwise amazing, overtook her.

  McKenna said nothing. She allowed his fingers to work the tiredness from her feet and legs. His thumbs bore into the pad of her foot, circling the skin over and over, and willing fatigue to flee. She kept her eyes closed. Relaxation spread over her and sleep was on its way. Parker removed his hands and stood up. McKenna came awake, although she was drowsy. Taking a few deep breaths, she pushed herself up on her knees.

  “Your turn,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the tiredness in her voice.

  “My turn for what?” Parker asked.

  “Foot massage.”

  “My feet are fine,” Parker said.

  “Then turn around. I’ll massage your back. I saw you stretching it several times tonight.”

  He started to say something, but McKenna used one finger and made a spinning gesture for him to turn around. Parker did so. Giving up, he sat on the bottom of the bed. From behind him, McKenna began to knead his muscles. She worked quickly down the hard landscape of his back. Just as she’d done, he moaned quietly, expressing the pleasure of having tension leave his body.

  She continued for ten minutes, coming awake with each press of snarled muscle. She’d been dead tired, but after Parker worked on her feet and legs and she on his back, her adrenaline was pumping and she was gaining a second wind. Finishing at his shoulders, she patted them lightly and stepped off the bed.

  “I’m going to shower,” she told him. Grabbing her still packed bag, she escaped to the bathroom.

  Maybe sharing wasn’t the best option for them, McKenna told herself as she leaned her back against the door. What was wrong with her? What was happening to her and when had it started? Why was she liking him so much? His hands on her feet had felt so good. He seemed to know exactly what she needed when she needed it. That’s something even Marshall had never really figured out. So how could Parker? How could a man she didn’t really like make her feel like...what?

  McKenna pushed away from the door at the same time she pushed those thoughts far away from her mind, never to be retrieved again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HE’D GONE TOO FAR, too fast, Parker told himself. He should never have touched her. She looked so tired. He only wanted to help her feel better. But things had gotten out of hand. He’d quit rubbing her feet when he realized he wanted to hold her.

  Then she’d put her hands on his back.

  Her fingers were sure and efficient, and for a while he thought that she was thinking of him and not Marshall. That he was more than her traveling partner. They were finally on friendly terms, but now he wanted more than that.

  Had she sensed it?

  He listened to the water in the shower. She’d been in there awhile. Was she all right? It had been a long day and she’d practically fallen asleep as he massaged her feet. Parker didn’t know if he should check on her or not. He was usually a decisive man, but with McKenna he was often tongue-tied, especially when he let his feelings take control. In her presence, he held them tightly in check, but tonight he’d let them loose a bit.

  The bathroom door opened and out came that fragrance Parker associated with her. McKenna stepped forward. She was wearing the long T-shirt that reached her knees. Her face was freshly washed and free of makeup. Her hair hung in wet tendrils around her face and down her back. She was radiant.

  “Feel better?” he asked, noticing his voice was only slightly less tight than earlier.

  “Like I had ten pounds of grease and grime washed away.”

  “I’ll go and see if the same thing happens to me.” Quickly, he darted toward the bathroom, but not before the scent of her accosted him. It was there in the bathroom, too, as fresh and sensual as if she were standing right next to him.

  He turned the water on and removed his shirt when there was a knock on the door. McKenna said something, but he didn’t hear it over the sound of the shower and the beating of his own heart. He opened the door.

  “What did you say?”

  She stood directly outside. She took a step back as if he was too close. Her mouth opened, but she said nothing. Then she swallowed.

  “I left my brush. I need it.”

  He turned and looked at the counter. Several of her things were neatly arranged there. Her toothbrush, toothpaste, comb and brush, deodorant, shampoo. He gestured for her to get what she needed.

  McKenna didn’t move for a beat, then she hurried past him and into the small room. Taking her comb and brush, he gave her ample space. Parker let out a breath as he closed the door again. He stepped into the shower, making the water temperature colder.

  Parker stayed in there longer than necessary. He hoped McKenna would be finished brushing her hair and asleep by the time he left the bathroom. She’d been so tired just a short while ago. She had to be asleep by now.

  Opening the door, he saw the lights were still on. She sat propped up in bed reading. Her hair was still down around her shoulders, although it was nearly dry.

  “Did you drop the ten pounds?” she asked, looking up as he came out.

  For a moment he didn’t connect with what she meant. Then he remembered her comment when she’d returned from her shower.

  “At least ten,” he said. “I expected you to be asleep by now.”

  Putting her book aside, she said, “I was tired, but after the shower, I feel a lot better. And my feet are no longer in distress.” She wiggled her toes.

  Parker’s eyes watched her and for an instant he remembered the feel of having her close. He wore blue pajamas, something he hadn’t even owned until this trip. After that night when they’d decided they could o
nly afford one room, he knew his usual sleeping attire, or lack of it, was not an option.

  Sitting on his single bed, he faced McKenna. “Is this arrangement working, McKenna?”

  “What arrangement?”

  “This.” He spread his hands. “The one room. We’ve been fortunate to find pretty decent-paying jobs. Despite the money we gave Joanna, we can afford separate rooms.”

  She swung her feet to the floor and turned toward him. “Oh.”

  “Don’t you want your own privacy? I know the break-in was a little traumatic, but you’re no wilting flower.”

  “I suppose we should consider it,” McKenna said. “I hadn’t thought about separate rooms since we lost the money. Initially it was strange having a man in my bedroom who wasn’t Marshall.”

  “But,” he prompted.

  “But I adapted.”

  “Just a few minutes ago, when you came into the bathroom for your brush.” He glanced at her brush lying on the night stand between the two beds. “You were a little...” He searched for a word. “Aware.”

  She swallowed and Parker could see a tiny pulse in her neck accelerating. “I’ve never seen you without a shirt,” she said, obviously reaching for a quick answer.

  “We both know I’m not the first man you’ve seen without a shirt.”

  McKenna glanced down at her fingers which were linked together. “It was the whole thing. The bathroom. You getting into the shower. For a moment it reminded me of Marshall. We used to bump into each other every morning trying to get dressed in the same bathroom. That was before we moved to the new house.”

  Parker went numb. Her words couldn’t have hurt more. Marshall had died three years ago. He should have realized McKenna was still mourning him.

  “I’m sorry, Parker.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Damn it, stop being so agreeable. You should be angry, slinging words at me. Doing something.”

  He stared hard at her. “What would you like me to say or do?”