The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1)

by Martin, R. C.

  “Not impossible. She’s just young and worried about her older brother; she doesn’t know how to express her concern any other way.”

  I stifle a scoff, confused about whose side she’s on. “She could just talk to me instead of turning everything into an argument.”

  “Right.” She hums a laugh as she hands me a dish to dry. “But that would require you actually opening up to her, which I know you haven’t.”

  She’s right, which I only admit begrudgingly. Kenz just makes me feel bad about my decision to break up with Addie. She doesn’t understand. Then again, she’s not the only one. Besides, trying to explain, yet again, is not the most appealing idea I’ve ever had. It’s been a month, which makes it practically old news, and I thought I was done explaining myself. “It’s just kind of nice not talking about it, you know? Besides, it’s hard to describe the situation to someone who is so against it that you’d think I was breaking up with her.”

  “Or maybe you aren’t listening so well, either. The truth of the matter is, you are doing what’s best for you and she doesn’t get that—but she doesn’t want any less than the best for you, either. You just need to sit down and patiently talk it out.”

  I don’t want her to be right. I want Kenzie to just get over it. This is my life and I don’t have to answer to her about the decisions I make. I can’t deny, though, that I miss my sister. I miss the Kenz that jumps on my back and demands a piggy-back ride every chance she gets; or the Kenz that talks my ear off about things that I don’t care about. Even though I might not care about what drama is going on between her and her bestie, I do care about her.

  “How are you doing, anyway?”

  “Huh?” I mutter as I untangle myself from my thoughts.

  “How are you doing? With the breakup?”

  “I kissed her yesterday.” The words fly out of my mouth as if they’ve been dying to be set free. When my mother’s hands stop what they’re doing, I know she’s staring at me without even having to look at her. I also know that in her stare, there is an expectation for more information. “We were arguing. She thought I was on a date.”

  “Were you?”

  “What? Mom! No,” I exclaim, turning to meet her gaze.

  “Sweetie, it’s just a question. Besides, it’s not as if dating other people is a bad thing.”

  I shake my head at her. Does anyone in this house understand why I broke up with the woman I love more than anyone else in the entire world? I think of my dad and I feel my shoulders relax. At least one person gets me. “Look, mom, it’s not like that, okay?”

  “Well, things can change. I don’t know. You haven’t really been very open about it, you know.”

  She’s right. Again. While I’d like to choose to be annoyed, I know that if I don’t start talking now, there will always be tomorrow. Or the next day. I have to remind myself that my mom and my sister only bug me because they love me.

  I drape the dish towel in my hands over my shoulder and fold my arms across my chest as I turn to face her, leaning up against the side of the sink. “Things haven’t changed, mom. I’m still in love with Addie. She’s the only one that I want. Being broken up is hard—and when I was trying to explain to her that I wasn’t on a date, regardless of what it looked like, she was just too hurt to hear me. That scared me. It scared me to see that our time apart has already taken away some of the security behind our relationship.”

  “So you kissed her.”

  “I kissed her,” I repeat with a nod. “Until she heard me loud and clear.”

  “Beckham, I’m not so sure a kiss from you makes anything clear right now. Don’t you think the act might make things more confusing?”

  I sigh as I think over her question. I only consider it for a moment because I know that neither of us was confused after that kiss. I needed it just as much as she did, I could tell by the way she responded to me instantly. That, however, is something I’ll never be able to explain—the only person who knows what I mean is the woman that I kissed; and the look in her eyes when I pulled away…

  “Trust me, mom, there’s nothing else I can do to make this situation more confusing. That kiss was an answer. Everything else? Everything else is just a giant ball of questions that I am no closer to understanding today than I was five weeks ago.”

  “Have you been praying about it?”

  Now I scoff, completely incapable of holding it back. “Are you kidding?”

  She reaches for the towel that’s draped over my shoulder and dries her hands before draping it over her own. She folds her arms across her chest, mimicking my posture, and she leans her hip against the side of the sink. “Tell me about it, then.”

  “I pray about it all the time. I got a journal. I’ve even met with Pastor Doug—I feel like I’m doing everything I possibly can to figure out what God wants with me.”

  “But I thought you already knew that,” she says, challenging me. “It’s why you broke up with her in the first place, isn’t it? Because you didn’t feel at peace with moving forward with your relationship.”

  “Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “But I need to figure out why. Pastor Doug thinks it’s a trust issue.” When she smiles at me, I stop speaking. “What?”

  “Give me your hands.” Her smile grows wider as confusion tugs at my eyebrows. When I don’t obey, she gently reaches for my hands and positions them so they are held out between us. “Curl your fingers into your fists.” This time, I do as I’m told, curious as to where this is going. “We serve a sovereign God, Beckham. It is our privilege to know Him. He does not owe us anything. Lucky for us, He wants to shower us with blessings—not just life but everything else that comes with it. His love is that great. But a relationship with God is a two way street. In a relationship you give and you take. Are you following me so far?”

  I’m not sure where she’s going with her miniature Sunday school lesson, but I comprehend everything she’s said thus far, so I nod my agreement.

  “Good. Okay. Now—He has already given, so we should expect nothing less than for Him to take. Thankfully, He doesn’t ask for the impossible. All He wants is our love—and you know what they say about love? It’s a battlefield. Sometimes, despite the love that connects us to Him, life just happens; it’s confusing and frustrating and hard. Sometimes it’s earth-shatteringly heartbreaking and the why is a mystery. It sucks and it's not always fair. I know. You might not ever get to know why it felt right to break up with Addie. Perhaps the only thing you’ll ever be sure of is that you thought it was the best thing for you.”

  What she’s saying sounds familiar. I think about the napkin that’s tucked inside of my journal and I remember what Pastor Doug said about God not being interested in me understanding what He’s doing. I don’t like what my mother is saying now any more than I liked what he was saying then. “But, mom—” She shakes her head at once, silencing me without further argument.

  “God is teaching you something. I believe that. You felt that you and Addison needed to take a break and you acted on that feeling. He isn’t going to waste this opportunity. But, if you believe He’s asked you to give something up, you’ve got to actually give it up.”

  “I did! Do you know how much it sucks being friends with her?” I bite my tongue, fully aware that I’m on the verge of throwing another temper tantrum—only it won’t be any more satisfying or helpful spouting off my frustrations to a person than it is unloading on God. It doesn’t change anything.

  My mom pulls me from my thoughts as she grips my wrists, drawing attention to my closed fists. “You’re so concerned with the why that you refuse to let Him have it fully. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe the why is too big for you to understand? To you, this season is everything. To God, it’s a blip in time. Just like we aren’t previewed to the future, maybe right now you aren’t allowed any answers.”

  I stare down at my hands and shake my head. I don’t know if I’m shaking my head at myself, at my mom, or at God, but I know that the
act is derived from an eye-opening realization. I haven’t let her go. I broke up with her, yes, but I haven’t let her go. And that kiss? It was me dragging her along with me—which makes me an ass. I don’t regret that moment, seeing as how it said all I couldn’t say, but it didn’t change anything between us. That’s not fair to her.

  Do I really have to let her go even more than I already have? What will happen if I do? And what does that mean, let her go? I still want her. I still love her. God—what is the point of all this?

  Oh. Right. You don’t care to explain why, do You?

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I mutter, pulling my hands from out of my mother’s grip.

  “Beck—”

  “I’ll finish the dishes,” I assure her, reclaiming the dish towel as I block her access to the sink.

  “Beckham—”

  “Mom, please? I’m done talking about it.”

  She reaches up and squeezes my shoulder before kissing my cheek. “Okay.”

  I exhale slowly when I hear her retreat from the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I know that I should take this moment of solitude to commune with God—to just talk to Him and be honest about what I’m feeling, but I don’t feel like talking to Him right now. Besides, He knows exactly what I’m thinking and feeling anyway. He can have all the answers from me He wants. It’s me who’s left in the dark.

  I wonder if avoiding the situation entirely counts as letting it go, because that’s what I want to do. I have other things I can focus on. For instance, lining up more opportunities to pad my resume for med school. Volunteering at the hospital is great, but I can do more. I can also try and get a head start on my applications—that’ll impress my advisor in August.

  Of course, thinking about medical school makes me think about Addie. Will she come with me wherever I go? Might we be together by then? Or—

  Too many damn questions. No answers.

  I can’t think about it anymore.

  So I won’t.

  After a night of restless sleep and two—okay, two and a half—plates of Ray’s amazing barbecue, I could really go for a nap. The weather is nice so most of us are outside on the deck—us being the family and close friends of Shannon Grant, the birthday girl. Looking at her now, as she stands in a group of women—my mother included—I’m really glad I came. Shannon means a lot to me, and not just because she’s Addie’s mom. After five years of hanging out in this house, and family dinners, and shared holiday celebrations, I know that I’m welcome here with or without Addie. Not to mention my relationship with Ray. I’m pretty sure he’s always liked having me around, even if it’s just to be another guy in the house. I’ve done my fair share of projects with him, helping out with his honey-do list every now and again.

  I shift my focus to their daughter, who sits beside me at the head of the patio table. Her legs are curled up against her chest, her hands folded on top of her knees. Her black hair is half up and half down, resting against her shoulders. She’s engaged in conversation with the person on the other side of her and whatever they are talking about is making her laugh. The sound makes me smile.

  This is the second time I’ve been around her since the kiss. Nothing has changed and we both seem to know that. We haven’t talked about that night or about Logan and we don’t need to. The fact that there is no awkwardness between us affirms what I was thinking last night—we needed that conversation—that kiss—and now it’s over. We’re both moving on; but now we have that moment tucked into our back pockets for safe keeping.

  “Hey, you.” Kenzie’s voice is the only warning I get before she’s seated in my lap, leaning back against my chest. Her mane of curls tickles my neck and my arms and I can’t stifle the grunt that escapes me as she inadvertently presses against my full stomach. I don’t complain, though. This morning we called a cease fire and I won’t do anything to eradicate that truce. Something tells me it had something to do with a conversation she had with Addie when they went out for breakfast, but I didn’t ask. I don’t want to know. I’m just glad to have my sister back.

  I rest my arms around her in a loose embrace and sigh. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “I saw you staring,” she coos playfully.

  “I wasn’t staring.” As the words come out of my mouth, I don’t hide my grin, knowing she can’t see it from her vantage point.

  “Checkin’ her out like she’s the prettiest girl in the room.” My eyes drift back toward Addie and I can’t deny the truth in Kenzie’s statement. I shrug, at a loss for words, and I can tell she feels the movement and understands that I’ve conceded. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Aww, look at you two,” gushes Addie as she reaches out her bare foot and nudges Kenzie’s knee. “Glad to see you’re playing nice.”

  “Yeah, well, I needed someplace to sit,” Kenzie teases.

  “Oh, is that all I am? A chair?” I lock her in my embrace and go for the kill—attacking her sides with my fingers. She jerks in my arms, trying to escape my tickling hands, but she’s going nowhere.

  “Stop! Stop!” she cries between her giggle fits.

  “You’ve gone and done it now,” says Addie with a grin. “Better start groveling.”

  “Okay, okay! You’re the best brother in the whole wide world,” she mutters, breathless.

  “That’s more like it,” I reply, relaxing back against my chair, once more.

  She sighs and leans on me as she works to catch her breath. “Hey—” She straightens instantly and points her finger animatedly. “When did that happen?!”

  Addie and I follow her gaze across the deck, curious as to what has her gawking. A smirk tugs at my lips when I see Grayson and Avery. They’re sitting on the porch swing, her legs stretched out over his and his arms resting casually on top of them. Her head is propped against his shoulder and she appears to be pointing people out to him. He says something that makes her smile and when she tilts her head up, they share a quick kiss before she resumes her previous position.

  “Aren’t they adorable?” says Addie.

  “I think my brain might explode. He cut his hair and he’s dating Avery?” Addie and I both laugh as Kenzie begins to sulk. “Guess he couldn’t wait around for me forever,” she states with a sigh, leaning back against me. “You’re sister is a lucky girl.”

  “No pouting,” teases Addie, reaching out to pinch Kenzie’s leg. “You knew you were stuck in the sister-zone.”

  “Yeah. That five year age gap will do that to you.” I can’t see her face, but I know she’s smiling. My sister, one of the masses who is completely taken by my best friend. That guy has wicked game.

  When I tune back into the conversation between Addie and Kenzie, I find that they’re now talking about boys and I tune right back out. That is something I really don’t need to be hearing about. Friend drama, I can handle—boy talk, no thank you. I have to admit, though, I’m right where I want to be. Zoned out and in the company of my sister and my girl—or, my friend…whatever she is.

  I shake my head as thoughts of my current situation begin to invade my mind. That all too familiar feeling of frustration starts creeping its way into my mood and I close my eyes as I attempt to push it away. With my eyes closed, I’m reminded of my exhaustion. I can no longer tell if I’m tired from lack of sleep or from too much thinking. Then again, isn't my lack of sleep a result of my overthinking? I furrow my brow, now irritated, and it hits me—I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep going on like this.

  Two seconds ago, I was content. Then, just thinking about Addie and our breakup opened the flood gate of questions and my mood instantly soured. But this is not who I am. I’m not short tempered. I’m not a negative person. I think of Logan and how she asked me if I was a glass-half-empty kind of guy—and I’m not. Lately, though, I feel like that’s who I’ve become.

  I don’t want to be that guy.

  When I open my eyes, I look around me and realize that I have nothing to complain about. Not reall
y. I’m full; not just my stomach, but my life. I have not one family, but two. I have friends that put up with me, even on my worst days. I have been dreaming about becoming a doctor since I was a kid and in another year, I'll be one step closer to making that dream come true. And I've got this girl, who I love. Addison is crazy enough to trust me and wait for me when I ask her to. So, what, I'm complaining because I need to grow up? When did I become such a joke? Every second I spend being mad, I miss out on just enjoying what I have.

  I grab hold of this awareness—my gratefulness—and I realize that I don’t want to keep fighting. It’s not even that I’m letting go of anything, I’m just giving up.

  I surrender.

  The truth of the matter is, all my fighting hasn’t gotten me anywhere. In the past five weeks, the only thing I’ve managed to do is grow into a more frustrated person. I’m a pain in the ass to be around and I’ve got no more answers now than I did when this whole season started. So I give up.

  Addie laughs, pulling my gaze in her direction. I won’t let her go. I can’t. I’ve put all the distance between us that I can handle, and I can’t promise more than that. I can promise one thing—no more wondering why.

  God, do what you want. I don’t care how or why or what You do. Now, all I care about is when.

  I’ll be waiting.

  I know that God doesn’t owe me anything. But, like I’m always being reminded, He has promised me much anyway. I can’t see the future or claim to know what He’s doing—obviously—and I can’t guarantee what will happen between Addie and me. God's not a magic eight ball or a fortune cookie. He’s a mystery; and the secrets He knows He keeps. I just have to trust Him.

  Wow! And there it is. I have to trust Him.

  Whatever happens between Addie and me, it's up to us. Yeah—God is doing His thing, but I choose her. I can't be with her now, but if I just stop fighting it, maybe I'll be free of all that is preventing me from moving forward. Currently, I’m more of a colossal mess than I was when we broke up. I’ve got to get my crap together. Maybe if I give in and trust that God has my heart in this place for a reason, something will give.