A Soldier's Promise

by Cynthia Thomason

  “Have you talked to her about dating, health concerns, preventing unplanned pregnancy, things like...”

  “Whoa! Hold on. No, of course not. I figure her mother covered all those topics.”

  “Maybe she did, but I’d suggest you grow a backbone and at least ask Carrie some questions.”

  He set down the last chair. “Can’t you...”

  “Talk to her for you? No, I can’t,” she stated emphatically. “You’re the parent, and this discussion definitely comes under parent-child guidelines.”

  “But you’re my friend, aren’t you?” He hated the sound of that dreaded word spoken as if he was some obstinate kid. He’d thrown it out there as if it were a rock he’d tried to hit her with.

  “Don’t start,” she said. “As your friend, I would do most anything for you. But talking to your daughter about sex isn’t on the list.”

  “What if she came to you and asked questions?”

  Brenna sighed. “I suppose then I would talk to her, but only if I had your permission.”

  “You have it. I’ll tell her that you want to talk to her about girl stuff.”

  Brenna moved one chair about two inches. She was becoming a perfectionist about every detail in the center. “You’re hopeless,” she said to him.

  “And there’s another thing.”

  “What?”

  “Those girls Carrie has been hanging around with. I’m not so sure they’re not manipulating her.”

  Brenna shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what he’d said. “In what way?”

  “She follows everything they do. What they wear, where they go, everything.”

  “Mike, that’s what kids do. They’re basically pack animals.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t like the little tricks she’s using to get me to agree to let her do things. That’s not like Carrie.”

  That wasn’t exactly true. Mike remembered the pancake breakfast Carrie had made for him when she’d wanted him to let her go to the Riverview with the Montgomerys. Carrie wasn’t beyond a few manipulations of her own, but lately she’d been pushing boundaries more than ever.

  “I introduced her to those girls,” Brenna said. “I know each of them. Allison is a cheerleader. Mary Sue is president of the Circle Service Club. They’re also normal teenagers, and like most kids, they test their limits. It’s part of growing up.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “How are Carrie’s grades?” Brenna asked, an obvious attempt to get Mike to relax his attitude.

  “Okay, I guess. How is she doing in your class?”

  “Fine, a solid B.” She sat in one of the chairs and rubbed her shoulder. “Quit worrying, Mike. You’re making more of this situation than you should. You ought to be glad that Carrie has made friends.... For heaven’s sake, she even goes to football games!”

  He supposed she was right. Brenna knew about his promise to Lori. Maybe Brenna didn’t understand the full impact of his pledge to his dying wife, but she understood the responsibility he felt for his daughter’s upbringing and care. Lori hadn’t trusted him with her end-of-life decisions, but if she was looking down on them, she’d know she could trust him to protect their daughter. Even so, he had lightened up on Carrie. Most times, maybe once or twice a week, he even let her ride with Charlie to events.

  Mike sat down, leaving one chair between him and Brenna. “Okay. You’ve made a good point. And I’m doing better.”

  She smiled. “Fine. Now are we through talking about you because I want to talk about me.”

  The opening he’d been waiting for. “Okay. How’s Alex?”

  She smirked at him. “I said me, not Alex.”

  “I thought you two were joined at the hip, or the heart, or something.” He was being a jerk, and he knew it. But sometimes it was easier to play the dolt than it was to deal with real emotions, especially the ones he couldn’t seem to control where Brenna was concerned. He hadn’t kissed her, or gotten close in any way, since that Friday night when Alex had walked in on them. And each day, when they worked together, when they happened to see each other in school, his self-control grew more difficult to manage. He found himself thinking of her with Alex, and he was surprised he hadn’t ground his teeth down to the gums. And when he didn’t think about that, he thought about what it would be like if she were with him instead, and that was even worse.

  He was so occupied with collecting his thoughts he barely heard her response to his comment about Alex.

  “Since you asked, we’re taking a break,” she said.

  “What?”

  “We’re taking a break,” she repeated.

  “What does that even mean?” he asked. “Did you split up? Are you seeing other people? I don’t know what any of this modern-day dating stuff is all about. New terms. New definitions...”

  “It means, Mr. Thick Head, that we’ve agreed not to see each other for a while.”

  “Since when? How long is a while?”

  “Since a couple of days ago. And I don’t know.”

  “Did you dump him?”

  She exhaled a long breath. “Is that what you’d like to believe?”

  Yes! “Maybe.”

  “Well, truthfully nobody dumped anyone. It just sort of, I don’t know, fizzled.”

  He tried not to smile. Brenna might feel really lousy about this.

  “I guess Alex brought up the separation first,” she admitted.

  He’d rather the split happened the other way, but at least this was encouraging.

  “He said I was acting differently, like I wasn’t into the relationship the way I used to be.”

  “Did you deny it?” He didn’t want to ask so many leading questions that she’d quit talking, so he added, “I mean, he’s your Mr. Wonderful, right?”

  She gave him a freezing stare.

  “Sorry, but did you try to convince him that it was all in his imagination?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  He held his breath. Could this mean she was really growing tired of Alex? Or could it mean she was becoming interested in someone else—someone less perfect, with less money, education and success? He needed more information. “So was it his imagination, or did you really want to break up with him?”

  She huffed with obvious impatience. “What do you think, Mike?”

  “I don’t know! One minute he’s your Mr. Everything. The next you don’t even seem all that upset after breaking it off with him. What’s going on? Why...”

  “You can be so dense!” She turned a full ninety degrees on the chair so she could look directly into his eyes. “We’ve been working here side by side every night for two weeks. Even when I rubbed my shoulder a minute ago, practically begging for you to massage it, you kept your distance.”

  “That was a sign? Rubbing your shoulder was supposed to tell me something?”

  She just stared at him.

  “How was I supposed to know you wanted me to massage your shoulder? You asked me to back off, and I have! It’s not what I wanted.”

  “I certainly wouldn’t have known that by how you’ve acted. Suddenly it’s like I have this horrible disease or something.”

  He chuckled and her face grew scarlet.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “This whole thing. I can’t figure you out. You told me you just wanted to be my friend. Now you’re saying you’re disappointed because I haven’t been coming on to you. I’m more than a little confused here, Brenna.”

  “It’s more than just the shoulder rubbing. There have been other signs,” she said as if it made all the sense in the world.

  “Oh yeah? Mind telling me what they were so I won’t blow it with another woman down the road?”

  She stared down at the chair separating them. “T
his is all my fault. I should have been more obvious.” She looked up at him again. Her eyes glistened with an emotion he’d never seen before, but he sensed he was the center of it, and that was a good place to be. She inched closer to him. “If this chair weren’t here...”

  He knocked the chair over.

  And suddenly her hands were wrapped around his nape, she’d yanked him none too gently across the open space and her lips were on his. Her head moved, slowly, temptingly, and all the emotions he’d kept stored up for weeks found an outlet. He hardly recognized the growl that came from his throat as he deepened the kiss.

  Too soon for him she pulled back. A long, sweet breath came from the lips he’d just kissed.

  “So what does this mean exactly?” he said, his voice raspy. “Are we dating now?”

  This time she chuckled. “Dating, Langston? Is that the best you can come up with to describe what’s going on?”

  “I guess we’ve never really had a date,” he said.

  She spread the fingers of one hand and began listing. “Let’s see. We’ve had arguments, deep discussions, pizza and a few kisses. But a date? No, never.”

  His grin originated from deep inside. “Will you go out with me tonight? Right now.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s Friday night, still early. We can go to dinner or something...”

  “What’s your curfew tonight, Mike?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m taking you home with me.”

  The light in her eyes dimmed and his heart sank. He was rushing things. That wasn’t good for either Brenna or him. But the kiss had been so encouraging.

  She pulled away from him. “Mike, I don’t think so. You have a daughter, remember?”

  Time to backpedal his way out of this. “I wasn’t suggesting anything inappropriate, Miss Schoolteacher.”

  “No?”

  “No. I just thought you’d like to meet my dog.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Carrie won’t have a problem with you meeting Buster. She’s been hoping you’d drop by. Besides, she’s not due home until eleven, and lately that means eleven-fifteen.”

  He stood and grabbed her hands. She rose and he took the opportunity to kiss her again. “And between now and whenever we hear Charlie Montgomery’s car in the drive, I can get in a few more of these.”

  “Okay. Sounds like a plan, then.” She grinned up at him. “I can’t wait to...meet your dog.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT WEEK flew by for Mike. He didn’t argue with Carrie. The Ravens won their weekend game. The Cultural Arts Center would be ready for the big reveal on Sunday. And he’d been with Brenna every evening. They had the date thing down, though their dates mostly consisted of grabbing dinner after working on the center or cooking something up at the cabin so Mike could be home with his daughter. Brenna understood and supported his need to be around when Carrie was home. With the one exception of not having enough alone time with Brenna, Mike was content.

  There hadn’t been any point in hiding the relationship from Carrie. She was too bright not to catch on, and Mike was too happy to pretend. So they settled into a comfortable foursome. Mike, Brenna, Carrie and Buster, the fifty-pound Labrador mix who’d managed to claim every chair in the house as his own.

  Mike and Brenna didn’t talk about the future, which was okay because the present was working out just fine. They both had agreed to take things slowly and see how this new and exciting phase of their “friendship” progressed. Each time Mike kissed her, whenever he held her hand, whenever he laughed at something she said, he felt a little of the old, bitter Mike dissolve, leaving the beginnings of an optimistic believer in its place.

  Unfortunately, one aspect of Mike’s life still troubled him. His relationship with Carrie had improved, but he certainly didn’t think his parenting skills were the reason. Brenna continually told him that everything with Carrie was fine. She was popular. Her grades were good. Charlie was a great boy. And the girls she hung out with were from good families.

  So why did Mike feel as if he was losing control over his daughter? He rarely refused Carrie anything these days. When she wanted to go out, he let her, though he still insisted on maintaining a curfew. When she asked to ride in cars with other kids, he usually asked a bunch of questions and then gave in. When he asked her where she’d been and what she’d done and she answered, “Here and there” and “Not much,” he let it go.

  As long as she returned to the cabin relatively close to when he expected her, he tried to tell himself everything was fine. He didn’t need to keep such tight reins on his daughter. Brenna was right. She was a normal kid, doing ordinary things with other normal kids.

  Still, the promise he made Lori kept coming back to haunt him. He’d pledged to protect their daughter and he’d gone from smothering her to being “the greatest dad ever.” Mike didn’t know much about being a father, but even he knew a title like that often meant that dear old dad, despite scoring points with his offspring, wasn’t doing such a good job.

  “I can’t believe the change in you,” Brenna said one night as they were doing dishes. “You’ve really loosened up and you’ve made friends. People know you and like you.”

  “Wasn’t I likable before?” he asked her.

  “Not as much,” she said. “I mean I liked you, sort of, but now you just fit in everywhere, with the adults, the kids, the other teachers.” She playfully slapped him with the damp dish towel. “You’re a really great guy, Mike. You’ve come so far from that quiet, withdrawn, overprotective man you were when we first met.”

  It was not that he wasn’t happy that Brenna liked him this way. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to please her. She had been a kind of savior to him, bringing him back from the darkest time of his life. And that was all good.

  But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t erase the thought that he was failing somehow. Throughout his life he’d never relied on other people’s opinions and advice, and now he seemed to be taking Brenna’s word as easily as if she’d given it to him with a cherry on top. Brenna couldn’t be wrong about Carrie, could she? She was a teacher after all. She knew kids.

  So he tried to relax, take each day as it came and strove to be happy. He had a bit of extra money now, thanks to a small stipend Bobby had arranged for him to receive from the school board. He decided he liked Charlie well enough. He accepted that Carrie was old enough to go out with friends and make many of her own decisions. But this was an awful lot of accepting for a guy like Mike.

  * * *

  SATURDAY NIGHT, THE day before the Cultural Arts Center was to be opened to the public, Mike and Brenna were at the cabin celebrating an afternoon game victory. They’d picked up a pizza and a six-pack of beer and intended to discuss the event the town council had planned to showcase the center. Carrie was out with Charlie and a few other kids.

  Mike popped the tops on a couple of beers, handed one to Brenna and took a long swallow from the other. He lifted the lid on the pizza box and the spicy aroma filled the small room.

  “We did it, Brenna,” he said, tapping his beer can against hers. “We turned that old building into something important and lasting. You were right to commission the library for the new purpose.”

  She smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without you and the other volunteers. We all should be very proud. I can’t wait until tomorrow when the whole community will see what we’ve done in a few short weeks.”

  He passed his hand down the loose waves that fell to her shoulders and held a strand up to the light.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just trying to decide,” he said. “I can’t tell whether I like your hair this shade of red or with streaks of Hot Summer Beige running through it.”

  She laughed. “Many nights I didn’t think I’d ever get the paint out.”

  He leaned in
for a quick kiss. “I’m not the only one who’s changed, you know.”

  “Are you talking about me? I haven’t changed.”

  He leaned back and studied her resolute features. “Are you saying that after all this work you haven’t relaxed your own attitudes about teaching and becoming involved?”

  She bit the pointed end off a piece of pizza. “Sorry, but no. Working on this building is far different from working on problems in a student’s life. I still feel as I always have. I will continue to do my job, teach to the best of my ability and let the professionals handle the emotional turmoil.” She frowned. “And before you say it, yes, I realize I’ve violated that principle many times with regard to Carrie.”

  He wondered if he didn’t know her better than she knew herself. He understood her reasons for feeling how she did. What happened to her with the young boy who’d been abused by his father during her previous job was heartbreaking. But he’d hoped she’d come to see that she had a lot to give her students. She could be a friend, an advisor and a role model.

  Apparently reading his thoughts, she said, “I’ve done it again, haven’t I?”

  “Done what?”

  “Ruined some sort of ideal you had of me. Sorry, Mike, but I’m still the same person I was when you met me. Just because I’ve taken Carrie under my wing doesn’t mean I’m ready to be a confidante and confessor to every student who comes along. Remember, I learned this lesson the hard way.”

  He didn’t want to accept her desire to remain aloof. Carrie idolized her. And he...well, he was falling too hard and too fast. If he hit bottom and found himself alone, he didn’t know if he’d recover. Daring to ask the question that bothered him the most, he said, “Does this mean you’re the same person in all respects or just the same teacher?”

  He held his breath. Were money and possessions still priorities? She’d broken off with Alex, the man who could have given her everything, but had she sacrificed the principles she’d always believed in? Or was she just biding her time until another Alex came along?

  She smiled and patted the cushion next to her on the sofa. “No. I’ve changed in small ways. For instance, I’m beginning to like this cabin.”