Promised Soul

by Sandra J. Jackson

“I'll go – if you don't mind.” He smiled. I certainly didn't mind, despite the awakening of my skin when he touched me, my eyelids were beginning to feel heavy again.

  Aaron returned seconds later with the coffee pot in one hand and a book in the other. My heart skipped a little. He set the pot down on the table and sat beside me on the couch, the book still in his hand. “Is this yours?” he asked sounding a bit excited as he held the book the old woman had lent me.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head and trying not to read too much into Aaron's expression. Grabbing the pot, I filled the mugs with the hot coffee, the aroma alone already giving me energy; it was either that or seeing what I interpreted as intrigue in Aaron's eyes that woke me.

  “Can I ask where you got it from?”

  “The old lady down the street gave it to me to read.” I was trying to sound matter of fact, but at the same time, his apparent interest in the book had me quietly reeling. Peter had said Aaron believed, to some extent, in past lives. After meeting his mother, I understood why. Maybe it was just the thing we needed to start a conversation, but he was going to have to say something first.

  “Do you think I could borrow it?” Aaron asked still holding the book out to me.

  “I… I don't know, maybe.” Suddenly I wasn't so sure if he should take it, having not read it myself. I took the book from his hands and placed it on the table. Though the desire to thrust it back into his hands was strong, a part of me needed to think about it.

  We sat silently sipping our coffees and nibbling on cookies. That odd tension had returned – an awkward, invisible fog that swirled around us whenever silence filled the air.

  “Would you like to go for a walk?” Aaron asked when we'd finally finished our coffee. I nodded, surprised, but quite happy he asked. “It's too nice of an afternoon to be wasted indoors, and truthfully, I'm not ready for the drive back home just yet.”

  “I would love to,” I practically gushed, thankfully Aaron didn't seem to notice.

  We headed in the direction of the town centre. I wasn't quite sure whether my sudden surge of energy came from the coffee or the simple thrill of walking beside Aaron, but I suspected it was the latter. In any event, the rush became stronger when his hand brushed against mine and even in that fleeting moment, it sent warmth, and I'm sure a glow, coursing through my body.

  We approached the small cottage where the old woman lived and as we walked by I saw her peering at us from between her always drawn curtains. A knowing smile stretched across her face, yet another declaration that Aaron was indeed my soulmate – he was the only one that needed convincing.

  When we returned home, hand in hand, the sun was setting in the sky as I invited him in again, and as before, he accepted. We were both giddy, and it was hard to tell whether it was from the dinner we'd shared, the entertainment we'd enjoyed, or the pure elation of being together. Whatever it was, I didn't want it to end, and I suspected neither did he. Once in the apartment though, things became awkward, as I truly wasn't ready for our relationship or whatever it was, to advance any further – not just yet, not until he knew everything.

  “So…” I hesitated not knowing what to do next as we stood in the entrance of the apartment. “Can I get you a drink, something to eat?”

  “No.” His eyes burned into mine. We stood in the entrance staring at each other as if both afraid to make the first move. “Let's just sit a bit.” Aaron grabbed my hand and led me toward the couch. I was happy he was taking the lead.

  He sat down in the corner and patted the spot beside him. Obediently, I sat down. He put his arm around me, pulling me close, my head rested against him. I had never felt so warm and comfortable or relaxed, for that matter, in someone's arms. Closing my eyes, I felt myself begin to drift off as I snuggled closer, listening as he breathed slowly and rhythmically, his heartbeat so familiar in my ear.

  My eyes sprung open and it took me a few seconds to realize where I was. “Aaron, Aaron wake-up.” I whispered, placing my hand on his chest and gently shaking him.

  “What? Where am I? Oh!” He pulled me closer, closing his eyes again.

  “Aaron!”

  “This is nice,” he whispered.

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed, relaxing. “It must be really late.” My own eyes closed as I felt myself drifting off in the comfort of his arms.

  I felt him shuffle a bit and pull his arm free from behind me. Groaning I sat up, my eyes still closed. I knew he had to leave but despised the thought. I flopped back against the couch and felt him get up.

  “I'd say it's pretty early.”

  I opened my eyes and found him looking out the living room window; golden streaks painted across the sky – it was dawn.

  He was still looking out the window as I approached him and laid my hand gently on his back. “Breakfast?” I asked.

  “Breakfast,” he replied. My stomach rumbled loudly in agreement, and I padded into the kitchen, Aaron trailing close behind.

  By the time we finished breakfast, the sun revealed a blue, cloudless sky, and it was time for Aaron to leave. He helped me clean up, and though I didn't want the moment to end, he finally announced the words I was dreading.

  “I really must go.”

  “I know.” In my ears, I sounded like a very disappointed child. “It's okay.” I smiled, wiping the pout from my face. “You've got to get to work.”

  “Yeah.” We walked out of the kitchen together and stopped at the door to the apartment. I sensed a moment of unease as Aaron hugged me quickly and briefly brushed his lips against mine. “I'm sorry. I need to go.”

  Though our first kiss was brief, it still left a burning sensation on my lips. I reached up absently and touched them, the confusion from his apology and his sudden indifference swirled in my brain.

  “I know.”

  “Can I take that?” I followed the length of his arm down to his pointing finger and over to the object in question.

  “Yes.” I said. He left me and plucked the book from the coffee table, returning quickly to my side.

  “I think I should read this.”

  “Yes, I think so too.”

  Thirty-Five

  Time passed slowly with each day melting into the next. I'd practically become a shut-in. I was too afraid to leave the house in case he called – but he didn't.

  I spent my mornings in the garden sipping coffee and my afternoons reading; the cordless phone always by my side. I checked my e-mail frequently, but there was nothing. On several occasions, my fingers frustratingly dialed his office number only to hang-up when it rang. Once I let it go as far as voice mail, but apprehension prevented me from speaking, so I hung up. Besides, what was I going to say – “I miss you”? It was the truth, but scaring him off was the last thing I wanted, though I was quite sure I had already done that.

  Patience is a virtue, my mother's voice whispered inside my head.

  “Screw virtue!” I yelled, trying to drown her out.

  After four days of moping around, waiting for Aaron to call or send an e-mail, I finally decided to let matters be. In any case, I was sick of being bored, and I had a great need to get out of the apartment. Before leaving, however, habit prompted me to check my e-mail, and it was a good thing I did. I immediately opened my mother's message as it was already a day old.

  Hello dear,

  We just arrived in London yesterday. We've been having such a wonderful trip and can't wait to see you. We have rented a cute little car and have booked a few days at the Old Manse Hotel – Do you know it?

  Of course, it was where Peter and I dined when I first arrived in Bourton. I continued reading.

  If it's not too much trouble would you join us for lunch there tomorrow? They have a beautiful patio overlooking the river. The reservation is under James Houghton.

  See you soon, Krista,

  Love mom, xoxo

  I shook my head in disbelief that my mother was getting married. “Great!” I growled under my breath. I checked the time as I hea
ded to my room. I only had a few minutes to get ready.

  As I walked down the now familiar street, I noticed a small crowd of people had begun to gather on the walk ahead of me; an ambulance and police car were parked on the narrow road. As I approached, the realization hit me that we were standing in front of the old woman's house.

  “What happened?” I asked the nearest person who made eye contact with me.

  “The old woman…” he paused and rubbed his nose, “seems she had a heart attack.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Don't know,” he said and walked away leaving me standing there on the street amid a few remaining onlookers.

  Minutes later, a plain, black van pulled up behind the police car. Its presence answered all of our questions, and the whispers from the small crowd suddenly stopped. We stood and waited in silence, some people noticeably praying, as they brought out the stretcher laden with a body bag and placed it into the back of the van. The crowd slowly dispersed as the van pulled away from the curb, leaving me alone. A single tear traced down my cheek. I wiped my eyes and turned to walk away – surely late for lunch, but not caring. I looked back at the window the old woman had peered from, remembering the approving smile on her face. For a brief moment, I imagined her standing there, and I froze in my spot as she waved. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, she was gone.

  It turned out I wasn't late; in fact, it was my mother who was late. I exhaled a sigh of relief. I was content that I had a few moments by myself. I sat and stared mindlessly out over the water, watching the people pass by.

  “Krista!” I jumped slightly, woken up from my apparent trance by an overly, exuberant voice. It was one I recognized, but at the same time it did not seem familiar. “Krista!” My mother made her way toward me. A handsome man walked slowly behind her. He stopped when she threw her arms around me, almost knocking off my sunglasses in the process. “Oh Krista, I'm so happy to see you. I've missed you so much,” she bawled, squeezing me a little tighter than she ever had before. The woman, who I called mother, was almost unrecognizable.

  Finally, after what seemed like a very long hug, she released me, and I was able to get in a decent, deep breath. As if remembering she was not alone, she stepped back and linked her arm through the arm of the man who stood quietly behind her.

  “I'm sorry. Krista, this is Jim – Jim, my lovely daughter, Krista. Isn't she beautiful?” she gushed.

  I reached out my hand, which Jim engulfed in his much larger one. “Hi, nice to meet you,” I said reservedly, looking him over. For the first time in my life, I felt protective of my mother – as if she needed protecting.

  “The pleasure is all mine.” He smiled and when he did, his whole face lit up. I could see why my mother was attracted to him, but still I was leery.

  “Why don't we all sit down?” my mother suggested, taking a seat of her own. Jim took his spot beside her, and I returned to my chair with Jim sitting across from me.

  “So, Jim, tell me all about yourself?”

  By the time lunch was over, I had a good idea who Jim was, and I could tell by the way my mother looked at him that she truly was in love and happier than she'd been in a long time; at least, not since my father was alive. Who was I to stand in the way of that? Besides, I had my own love life to worry about, and from my point of view, it didn't look so great.

  “So are you two ready to have a tour of this beautiful village?” I asked; having decided that after lunch, I would show them around before heading back to my place for dinner.

  “Very!” my mother said and taking the last sip from her teacup, she set it back down on the table.

  “Great! We'll go to the model village first; it'll give you an idea of where everything is.”

  “Sounds like fun, doesn't it, Jim?”

  “Yes, very much.” Jim said, smiling at my mother and patting her hand. I got the impression, at times, that the two of them were able to block everything out but each other.

  “Should we take the car?” Jim asked my mother.

  “It's only about a five-minute walk from here, unless…” I started to explain but quickly closed my mouth when I saw that my mother and Jim were in their own little world again.

  “Oh, let's walk. It's such a beautiful day. I just need to go back to our room to get my purse,” my mother said after a few silent moments.

  “Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll get it for you. You sit and visit with Krista for a bit.” Jim got up, kissed my mother on the cheek, and walked away leaving the two of us alone. No sooner had he left did my mother start in with her questions, and for once she wasn't, at least for the time being, questioning me.

  “So, what do you think?” she whispered, reminding me of a lovesick teenager asking her friends about the new boy she was dating.

  I couldn't help but chuckle a little as I looked at her. Her eyes darted back and forth, as she studied my face looking for any telltale signs. However, she wasn't going to see anything but my true feelings.

  “Mom, I'm so happy for you. He's wonderful and I couldn't have asked for anyone better for you to get a second chance with.” I reached over and took my mother's hand as tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you think your father…” Her voice trailed off, but I knew exactly what she was going to ask, and then I remembered what Ruth had said.

  “I think Dad is especially happy that you've found someone. He wouldn't have wanted you to spend the rest of your life alone.” I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  She wiped her eyes with her free hand. “I think you're right,” she whispered.

  My mother regained her composure and released my hand. It was nice to have a conversation that was all about her for a change. Unfortunately, it was fleeting as suddenly her attention turned to me.

  “I have to tell you, Krista, there's something very different about you, I just can't put my finger on it yet, but I will.” I didn't say anything. She was right, there was something different about me. “I almost didn't recognize you at first,” she continued.

  “I'm sure I don't look that different. I've only been away a little over two weeks.” I shook my head as I sat back, giving a little chuckle at her scrutiny.

  “I know, but you've changed, and you DO look different.” She scrunched her eyes a little, as she studied my face.

  I smiled. I could almost see her thought process as she tried to figure out what she thought was going on.

  Just in time, Jim rejoined us carrying my mother's purse in his hand, thereby saving me from the inquisition that was about to take place. I was really going to like him if he kept that up.

  “Here you go, honey,” he said handing the purse to my mother and leaning over to kiss her on the cheek again. I couldn't help but laugh. They really were like lovesick teenagers.

  I spent a good part of the afternoon showing my mother and her fiancé around town. We visited local shops, and I introduced them to many of the locals who knew me by name and who treated me as if I had lived there for years.

  Time flew by and before we knew it, we were back at the hotel. I had suggested that we drive back to my place, although it wasn't too far, I didn't want my mother and Jim walking back in the dark. We all piled into the green rental, and minutes later, pulled up in front of the cottage.

  I pulled a couple of weeds from the flowerbed as the three of us made our way to the door. The more time I spent there, the more it felt as if it was my home, and I had no qualms about maintaining it. I'd even spent time in the gardens out back, too, plucking weeds, deadheading plants and watering. I enjoyed the work despite Jane's instructions that her neighbour would tend to it.

  “Make yourselves comfortable,” I said as I headed into the kitchen after giving a brief tour of the apartment.

  “This really is charming.” My mother repeated for the fifth time.

  I turned around to find her and Jim standing in the kitchen. “Yeah
, I really like it,” I affirmed for about the fifth time. “So, you're sure barbecue chicken is okay, 'cause I can make something else if you want?” I held up the bag containing the chicken we'd purchased at the local market before returning home.

  “Yes, of course. Can we help?” My mother asked.

  I looked from my mother to Jim and back again. My mind was busily searching for some chore to give them. “Sure,” I said grabbing the tray from on top of the fridge and setting it on the table. “Would you mind setting up the patio table outside? The chairs are in the shed, and here's a cloth to wipe the table.” I turned toward the sink and rinsed out a cloth, handing it to my mother.

  “If you have paper plates, we could use those,” she said taking the damp cloth from my hand.

  My mouth fell open and my eyes widened with her suggestion. It wasn't the norm for her. If anyone had changed, it was definitely my mother. “Ah sure, I think I saw some around here somewhere,” I said recovering from my momentary state of shock.

  “Jim and I will get things set up outside. I'll be back for the plates in a bit.” Jim held the door open and the two of them disappeared down the stairs.

  Love: it definitely can make a person change – even if just temporarily. I shook my head smiling.

  I busied myself with preparing the food when suddenly a loud uproar of laughter interrupted my focus and sent me to peer out the back door at just what had caused such hilarity.

  “What's so fun…ny,” I stammered as my mother, Jim and Aaron all looked up at me, huge grins spreading across their faces.

  “Krista, you have a visitor,” my mother called up to me with the strangest of smiles pasted on her face.

  “I see that. What are you doing here?” I addressed Aaron from my perch at the top of the stairs.

  “Work. I thought I would drop in for a quick visit. I heard voices coming from the back garden, so I introduced myself. Anyway, long story short, these lovely people have invited me to dinner. That is if you don't object.”

  Object! Why would I object? My heart was thumping and inside my head, I was doing the happy dance. “Sure, we've got extra. I'm just about ready to bring it down. Can you get the barbecue going?”