Promised Soul

by Sandra J. Jackson

  “There, there, dear,” she whispered in my ear as she patted my back. “What's this all about now?”

  I pulled away and wiped the single tear that managed to free itself. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean –”

  “It's all right, sweetheart. Come, let's sit down.” Jane took my hand and led me to her couch.

  I sat down and sank into its comfortableness. Jane sat beside me, and for a moment I thought the massive couch would swallow her up. Her small though plump frame, was definitely no match for that much larger piece of furniture. My tears had all but stopped as she handed me a tissue from the box on the glass coffee table.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Now, tell me what the matter is.” Jane reached over and patted the hand I had rested on my lap.

  “I'm not sure I know.” I said truthfully.

  “Perhaps I can help?”

  “Please do.”

  “Perhaps you're feeling a little homesick. Even if you're enjoying yourself, when you're without your nearest and dearest it does take its toll after some time.”

  I nodded in agreement. I really was missing my family and friends even though a big part of me felt at home here.

  Jane continued her rather detailed and yet accurate and insightful description of my feelings. “I think the awkwardness you've recently experienced with Kate's passing…” Jane's voice broke for a moment, but she regained her composure and continued. “Anyway, I'm sure it was a very awkward situation for you.”

  I nodded again, my lips parted to speak, but Jane interrupted.

  “You're also in love with my nephew, and your impending departure must be awfully difficult to deal with.” She looked at me with sadness in her eyes.

  I was completely stunned. Jane was either very intuitive or just like everyone else; she, too, could read my face. Either way, I made a mental note to study myself in the mirror and practice my poker face.

  “If you don't mind me saying so,” Jane went on, “my nephew is pretty smitten with you as well. Oh, I know love when I see it, and the two of you…” Jane clicked her tongue and shook her head.

  Aaron had been right; his aunt was definitely chatty. However, at that moment it was of no concern. If I had to sit there and listen to her tell me a million times that Aaron was smitten, then I would sit and listen. By the time she had finished telling me stories about Aaron when he was a baby, a young boy, and a teenager, I felt like I'd known him for years – in his present lifetime anyway.

  “Let's have a bite to eat.” Jane wiggled her way off the couch and stood up just as a delicious and familiar smell wafted in from the kitchen.

  “Would that be –”

  “I had a lasagne in the freezer.” Jane shrugged. “You do like lasagne?” she said turning to me. I had already risen to my feet and was following her to the kitchen.

  “My favourite!”

  “Wonderful! Mine, too!”

  We sipped wine and ate the delicious home cooked lasagne at the dining table, occasionally making small talk, but nothing more. My mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Aaron and my mouth too busy enjoying dinner.

  As I placed the last forkful of lasagne in my mouth, I realized I hadn't quite found out the reason for Jane's returning home so early. It had been my understanding that she would return home only after the funeral. I fought with myself for a few seconds wondering if I should ask, when my mouth opened, making the decision for me.

  “Weren't you going to tell me why you were home?” I put my fork down and picked up a napkin, dabbing at the corners of my mouth.

  “I actually came home for two reasons.” Jane sipped from her glass of wine before continuing. “First, I needed something decent to wear to the funeral. I hadn't planned that far ahead when I decided to stay and help Kate, I guess part of me was hoping…” Jane jumped up to clear the table.

  I rose to help, but she asked me to sit back down. As lovely and giving as Jane was, when she asked you to do something, you did it with no argument. Not that she would ever argue back, but she did have a way of being convincing all the while using a very pleasant tone of voice. When she returned, she brought in a plate of cookies and set them down on the table before seating herself.

  “The second reason?” I pressed curiously. If it weren't any of my business, she'd let me know.

  “When Kate was first diagnosed and given her prognosis, she asked me to hold on to something until after she passed.” Intrigued by that bit of information, I listened intently to Jane's every word as she explained. “Kate asked me to give it to Aaron after…” She didn't finish her sentence but I knew what she meant.

  Several thoughts and ideas ran through my head. I battled with my conscious on whether or not to ask her what she was to give to Aaron. It really wasn't any of my business, but I was curious and it was my curious side that came up the winner. “Can I ask you what it is?” Now that the words were out of my mouth, I regretted asking, but held my resolve as I waited for the answer.

  “It's a wooden box.” Jane shrugged.

  Once again, I fought with my curiosity and myself. I had already stuck my nose in further than it belonged, how could one more question hurt? “What's in the box?”

  “I can't say.” Jane said taking a bite from a cookie and wiping the crumbs that fell on the table onto the floor.

  “I'm sorry; it's none of my business. Please forget I asked.” I looked at my hands resting on the table as warmth travelled up my neck and began settling on face. My ears burned.

  “No, dear, I didn't mean that. I meant I don't know. It's a locked box, and apparently, Doc Brown has the key.”

  Forty-One

  All night long, questions buzzed through my mind regarding the locked box and its possible contents. When sleep managed to find me, strange kaleidoscope images of boxes and keys swirled through my dreams. By the time dawn arrived, I was glad to make my escape from bed.

  Padding out to the kitchen in bare feet, I began my morning ritual and prepared the coffee maker. The bleak skies caught my attention and elicited a sigh. As I gazed out the window, I knew it would be another morning spent indoors.

  With my coffee all set to brew, I made my way down the stairs just in time to catch Jane as she was leaving for Tockington. Though we had said our goodbyes the night before, I felt a need to see her one final time. There were so many questions on my mind, but as we hugged, I kept them to myself. If Aaron wanted me to know about the box and its contents, I felt sure that he would tell me, or at least I hoped. For now, I was going to be patient, there was no other choice; it would be some time before we saw each other again.

  I dragged myself back up the stairs to my apartment, my disposition as dismal as the weather outside. I hoped my mood wasn't going to last as long as the dreary skies; it didn't seem like the sun was going to make an appearance.

  Upon opening my door to the apartment, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee stirred my senses, boosting my mood somewhat, and I headed directly for the coffee maker. As I poured the coffee a wisp of steam rose from the cup. I closed my eyes and inhaled the rich scent. A small smile spread across my face.

  Mug in hand, I returned to the living room feeling a little less depressed, and turned on the television for the morning news. Slowly, the slight elevation in my attitude began to trickle away as the forecast promised days of gloomy, rainy skies ahead. The rain began tapping at my window, tauntingly.

  As each day passed, my mood continued to match the depressing onslaught of wind and rain. I watched as grey clouds swirled and undulated, mesmerized by how much they looked like churning, angry seas until they finally unleashed the rain that pounded at my window. The heavy streaks clawed at the glass like long fingers trying to drag me out. I was afraid, isolated – abandoned. déjà vu found me again.

  With Jane gone and Peter's obvious disappointment, my only link with the outside world was the television and computer. I had become a shut in, the weather keeping me home – keeping me afraid. I hoped Aaron wou
ld come to my rescue, but I knew it wasn't possible. He had his own feelings to deal with and he had that box and its curious contents.

  By the time the weekend arrived, I was determined to break free from my depression, determined to get out from under the clouds that followed me. With that in mind, I set my mug on the top of the bookcase and searched for something interesting to read. Finally I settled on a well-read romance novel. I retrieved my cup and headed into the living room. Just as I made myself comfortable on the corner of the couch, there was a knock at the door.

  My heart beat with excitement, the first in what seemed a long while, as thoughts of Aaron and his rescue raced through my mind. A week had passed since we'd last seen each other, a week since we last spoke. I missed him terribly, but realized he needed his time. I crossed my fingers as my body seemingly floated over to the door.

  “Hello, sweetheart! I hope I'm not interrupting?” Jane's smiling, plump face greeted me.

  I deflated, feeling heavy on my feet, but I quickly recovered when she hugged me. “Not at all, come in.” I stepped back allowing Jane to enter the apartment, closing the door behind her. “So, are you home to stay?”

  “Ah yes, home to stay. You never realize how much you've missed it until you're back.” She smiled as she walked over to the living room and sat on the couch. I felt a twinge in the pit of my stomach at her words.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, dear, I'm fine. I just came by to see how you were doing, what with all this nasty weather we've been having.” Jane motioned to the window as the rain fell in a light drizzle.

  I glanced over at the window, something I'd avoided doing all morning. “Yes, I have been feeling a bit stir crazy,” I said, joining her.

  “Good!” She clapped her hands together.

  My eyes opened wide at her apparent happiness with my discontent. My expression, of which I'm sure, was one of complete surprise. Jane immediately explained that she was inviting me on a shopping trip.

  I jumped up. “Just give me a minute to change,” I called out over my shoulder, Jane's laughter nipping at my heels as I headed toward my bedroom.

  Before long, I was ready to go, realizing it had been a week since I'd stepped outside and left the apartment. For a moment I hesitated, the thought of stepping out into the rain froze me in my place.

  “Good God, it's only rain,” I whispered to myself, turning the knob to my bedroom door and heading out to meet Jane.

  The moment we got into the car, my mind began racing with questions about Aaron and his whereabouts. I didn't want to come off sounding like some infatuated teenager or worse yet, a stalker.

  My irrational fear of the rain was already a faint and almost laughable memory as I brushed the remaining drops from my jacket sleeves. “So how was the funeral?” I asked, easing into my questioning.

  “The funeral? It was nice – as far as funerals go.”

  “So everyone's gone home?” We pulled to the end of the street and sat at a stop sign waiting for the traffic to clear.

  “Yes, Peter went home the following morning.” Jane turned the corner, and we headed out of town.

  I sat quietly staring out the window wondering how to approach the subject of Aaron. For a woman who liked to talk, Jane wasn't offering any more information than direct answers to my questions. I needed to be cunning.

  “What about Aaron? Did he have any clients this weekend?”

  “He did, but Peter took care of them.”

  “So he's still in Tockington?”

  “He is.”

  I nodded and turned to look back out the window, satisfied with his whereabouts. There was still some hope that he would stop by on his way home, even if it was out of the way.

  “Have you not heard from him, dear?” Jane asked sounding surprised.

  “Not yet.” I tried to sound aloof. “I assumed he would be busy finalizing things, so I wasn't really planning on hearing from him for a while.”

  We rode quietly along, Jane paying close attention to the road while I tried to devise another round of questions regarding Aaron and his emotional state.

  “So, how is Aaron anyway?” I asked directly, feeling that it was a legitimate question to ask about his well-being.

  “He'll be fine. He just needs time.”

  I didn't know whether Jane was trying to reassure me or herself, but before I continued with anymore questioning, Jane finally started offering up information on her own accord.

  “I hardly laid eyes on him after the funeral. He spent most of the time locked away in his bedroom, only coming down for meals before heading straight back up afterwards.

  “Oh?”

  “Whatever was in that box kept him quite occupied. For all I know, he's still locked away in his room pouring over its contents.” Jane shook her head.

  “Are you sure he's okay?” I asked trying not to sound too concerned, though I was deeply worried.

  “Oh yes, he's fine, dear. He called me last night to make sure I'd made it home. No need to worry.” Jane took her eyes off the road for a second to smile at me. A rush of relief flowed through my body, and I was glad that Jane had already turned her focus back to the road; I'd had enough of people, including her, reading my face. I turned my attention back to look out my window, glad Aaron was okay, but envious of Jane that she had spoken to him just last night. I wished he had called me, too.

  “Ever find out what was in that box?” I tried to sound as if it didn't really matter if I knew or not.

  “I can't say.”

  “That's okay, I understand.” I felt my cheeks burn; still very glad Jane focused her attention on the road ahead.

  “No, dear; I mean, I don't know. He never said, and well… we all thought it best to leave it at that. If he wants us to know, he'll tell us.”

  Jane was right of course. It was a personal matter between Aaron and his mother and it wasn't any of my business.

  Forty-Two

  August was turning into a wet and drab month, and having finally gotten out of the apartment, my uneasiness with the unsettled weather subsided. However, not hearing from Aaron was seemingly also becoming the norm, and that worried me.

  Jane had told me that he was back at work, and I told myself he was too busy during the day with his clients and probably too exhausted by night. Around Jane, whom I saw rather frequently, I pretended that my lack of contact with Aaron didn't bother me, but something told me she knew it did. Luckily for me, she said nothing. In any case, we were soon due for another expedition.

  With each day that passed, my anticipation grew as our tour date drew near and as I hadn't heard anything different, I suspected nothing had changed in the plans. Finally, the day arrived, the knock at my door startled me, and for the first time since arriving in Bourton, I wasn't entirely ready.

  “Hold on,” I called out to the front door as I made my way to the bedroom.

  I was still in my bathrobe, my wet hair dripped down my back. Quickly, I threw on the clothes that lay on my bed and hurried back to the door, smoothing out my clothes with my nervous hands, before combing out my hair with my fingers. I hesitated, feeling somewhat nervous about seeing him again, it had been so long, and I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I opened the door. Aaron was more handsome than I'd remembered. I wanted to jump into his arms, but instead, stood on tiptoe and kissed him gingerly on the cheek.

  “Hi! Sorry, I'm not exactly ready yet. I guess the time just got away from me,” I rambled, my voice cracking a bit.

  Aaron stepped into my apartment, his eyes locked on to mine and I found myself unable to look away.

  “It's okay. I'm quite early.” The way he spoke sent shivers down my spine, the good kind.

  “Early?” I finally tore my gaze away and looked toward the kitchen. My mind wanted to know the time, but my body wouldn't move.

  “Can we talk?” Aaron gestured to the living room.

  “Sure.” My stomach rolled as my feet led me over to the couch. Those t
hree words weren't exactly my favourite. Nothing good ever came from those three words. I knew all about it; I had used that exact phrase on Brad before crushing his heart. A lump rose in my throat and I swallowed hard, driving it back down.

  Aaron sat down beside me. My eyes concentrated on my fingernails, nervously picking away at them, keeping myself distracted from the words I felt sure to hear.

  He sighed. “Please look at me.”

  I looked up and instantly felt tears beginning to well-up in my eyes. I blinked, forcing them back.

  “I'm sorry I haven't been in touch with you since…” he paused, “well since everything.” He gestured with his hands at an invisible vast expanse. “When I returned to London, I found myself very busy. I know that's not a very good excuse, but it is the truth.”

  I stared at him, afraid that if I opened my mouth the waterworks would begin.

  “You must think I'm a real idiot.”

  I shook my head, casting my eyes back down at my hands. Where is this conversation heading? I felt him move and when I looked back up, he was standing and pacing around the living room; looking at everything but me.

  “Is that you?” he said distracted, walking toward the small table that stood under the window by the desk.

  I rose from the couch and joined him. He had picked up a picture and was holding it out to me. I took it from his hand.

  “Yeah, that's me, my dad, and my best friend Amanda just before we all went away on a trip. I was about fourteen.” I placed the picture back down on the table.

  “And this?” He picked up another framed picture and handed it to me.

  “These are my friends; Amanda, Lindsay and Jennifer. It was taken just before I came here.” I was about to put the picture back down when Aaron reached for it, taking it from my hands.

  “Why is that photo,” Aaron said pointing to the frame sitting on the table, “in this photo?” He pointed to the picture in his hands.

  I explained to Aaron about the impromptu get-together I'd had with my friends before my trip and the gifts they had given me to offer moral support. I told him about the significance of the pictures, and their representation of the past, the present, and the future.