A Soldier's Promise

Home > Other > A Soldier's Promise > Page 18
A Soldier's Promise Page 18

by Cynthia Thomason


  Bobby’s voice carried across the room. “You and your buddies are going to repaint this room, you know that, don’t you, Charlie? Not one of you will wear a Ravens uniform again if this place isn’t spick-and-span by next weekend.”

  “We’ll put it back like it was, Dad.”

  “And this doesn’t even begin to address the damage to your car. It’s probably a total loss.”

  Charlie muttered under his breath—something about aiming to kill his former best friend.

  “And the drinking!” Bobby added. “How many times have we talked about underage drinking?”

  “The police are involved, Charlie,” Diana said. “Your friends could have been seriously hurt, or they could have been killed.”

  Charlie rubbed a finger under his nose before depositing cups in the trash. “I tried to stop Justin, Mom.”

  “That’s right, he did,” Carrie said. “But they were too drunk...” She stopped. “Or something. Justin was acting like a big bully.”

  Brenna wanted to talk to Carrie, to ask her what she had been thinking, why she had allowed herself to become involved in such a ridiculous act of vandalism. But Brenna, the only adult not a parent here, reminded herself that this was a family matter. She just moved slowly around the room, checking damage.

  Mike rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “The fact is, Carrie, you were drinking, too. You and Charlie?”

  She nodded. “Not as much but some. Charlie wasn’t going to drive.”

  “Thank God for that,” Diana said.

  “And I called you, Dad,” Carrie said. “A bunch of times, but you didn’t answer.”

  “That’s because my phone fell out of my pocket and into four feet of water when I thought you were inside a submerged car!”

  “Oh, Daddy...” Carrie’s sobs prevented her from speaking for several moments. “That’s why you’re all wet. You went in after me.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  Finally Brenna couldn’t pretend she wasn’t even in the room. The center was her project, and she had certain rights. She walked up to Carrie and asked in a calm voice, “Why the center, Carrie? Even if those kids didn’t want to use the facility, I’m surprised. I’ve had most of you in class. I just don’t see why.”

  “I’m so sorry, Miss Sullivan,” she said. “At first we were just going to sneak in here with the bottles. Mary Sue called it a pre-grand-opening party. It seemed like a good idea. We couldn’t go to anyone’s house, not with the bottles. I didn’t think anyone would get drunk. I mean, I never drank liquor before, so I didn’t know.”

  “It just got out of hand, Miss Sullivan,” Charlie said, looking around at the destruction. “Way out of hand.”

  Brenna didn’t know what else to say. These were good kids. She’d always thought so. She couldn’t stop believing it now. “I’ve got to call Stan Peterson before the town council shows up here in the morning to start setting up,” she finally said. “Obviously we won’t be having a ceremony. I’ll meet you all outside.”

  Mike gave her a look that could have frozen Mount Union. “Bobby, can you take Brenna home?” he said. “I want to be alone with Carrie.”

  His voice wasn’t exactly threatening, but it was dangerous just the same. Dangerous to her emotions.

  “Sure, no prob...” Bobby started to say.

  “My car’s at your place,” Brenna said to Mike. “I have to go back there to get it.”

  Mike took Carrie’s arm and started toward the exit. “Oh, right. In that case, Bobby, can you drop Brenna at my place before you go home?” He cut another cold stare at Brenna. “Where are your keys?”

  “In your house. My purse is on the sofa.”

  “I’ll find it and leave it on the hood of your car,” he said. And then, without another word, he quickly led his daughter out of the building.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  MIKE FLEXED HIS fingers on the steering wheel as he drove. Stay calm, he told himself. He couldn’t release the awful tension building inside him.

  After a few agonizing minutes of silence, Carrie asked, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  Oh, yeah, he had a lot to say. He just figured that if he started now, before he’d had time to sort this mess out in his head, he might regret most of what he said. What had happened tonight was too important for him to speak without thinking first. He’d learned a valuable lesson tonight about trusting his instincts. His daughter had disappointed him, big-time. She could have been killed. How much was one man supposed to handle? “In time,” he answered curtly.

  “I know you’re still mad.”

  “You could say that.”

  He slowed when they reached the few yards of road where Charlie’s car had plunged over the riverbank. The scene was eerily quiet now. All the police cruisers had taken off. Parents had obviously picked up their drenched kids. The car had been towed. “See those tracks?” Mike said, as he pulled alongside the flattened weeds.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s where I thought you were trapped in an automobile under four feet of water.”

  “I can’t believe you jumped in to get me,” she said.

  He glared at her. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “Well, I guess because I wasn’t in there after all. I would never have gotten in the car with Justin. I’m not stupid. And also because you and I don’t always get along.”

  He stared at her with disbelief. “So you think I wouldn’t risk a soaking to save your life? Jeez, Carrie, you really think that?”

  She stared out the windshield as he pulled away from the accident scene. “I don’t know.”

  He choked on his next words. “I thought you were in there. I was crazy to get you out.”

  “Okay, I get it. Thanks.”

  Thanks? How about thanks for not having a heart attack? Thanks for not screaming at me in front of my boyfriend? Thanks for making parenting seem like the most impossible job in the world!

  The cab of the truck fell into silence once more. Mike thought of Lori, his promise to her. At this moment he truly hoped she couldn’t see what was going on down here. He hadn’t done such a good job keeping his promise lately. His daughter could have been in that car, maybe would have been if it hadn’t been for Charlie. Maybe Bobby’s son was the levelheaded one. Carrie had been following those other girls like a sheep for days. Who was to say she wouldn’t have followed them into the river tonight? Maybe she wouldn’t have gotten out... Maybe he would have been too late.

  He swerved into the driveway to his grandmother’s house without even trying to avoid the holes he’d intended to fill. “There are going to be some changes,” he said.

  She gaped at him. “I knew it! I knew you would blow this out of proportion. Nothing happened, Dad! We’re both back here at this stupid cabin just like always.”

  He braked in front of the house, turned to stare at her, one arm over the steering wheel. “You broke the law, Carrie! You broke several laws. Underage drinking, breaking and entering, willful mischief, vandalism. I don’t know what all, but I expect we’ll find out.”

  She looked as if he’d slapped her. “You mean I could be in real trouble? Could I go to jail?”

  He could tell she was close to tears. “I doubt you’ll go to jail, but you’ll probably appear in court before a judge. You might get probation and community service.”

  “What about the other kids?”

  “I think it’s pretty safe to say Justin won’t be driving for a while. And all you kids will have to clean up the Cultural Arts Center.”

  Mentioning the center brought Brenna to his mind. He couldn’t concentrate on how this had affected her, not when his own emotions were so raw. But she must have been devastated at the damage to her pet project. She’d chaired this endeavor to help the
teens of Mount Union, and it had been those teens who’d destroyed it. Some things just made no sense.

  With her fingers wrapped around the door handle, Carrie said, “Then aren’t we being punished enough? Why do you have to change anything?”

  “Because everything has changed already! And I let it happen. I’ve taken advice from the wrong people. I’ve trusted you when I shouldn’t have. I thought you could handle more independence.” He steeled himself to say the words that hurt the most. “Now I know I’ve been wrong about everything.”

  She yanked on the door handle. “This is so like you! Jumping to conclusions just to keep me in this...this prison!” She jumped down, slammed the truck door and ran into the house.

  Mike remained in the truck, hoping Carrie’s temper would cool before he went inside. Hoping his own temper would cool, as well. But he couldn’t stay out here forever. Bobby would be along with Brenna very soon and Mike did not want to see her. If she told him again that these were “really good kids” or to “cut Carrie some slack,” he didn’t know what he’d do.

  He layered his hands on top of the steering wheel and rested his forehead on them. “How did this happen, Langston?” he asked himself. “You used to be so sure of yourself. You knew right from wrong. Granted, you never had the smarts a lot of college guys have, but your common sense led you in the right direction most of the time.”

  He thought back to his army days, really just a year ago, but now seeming part of a distant past. He’d managed to keep himself alive in a war zone. He’d even helped some of his buddies stay alive, and he did it by following his gut. Then Lori got sick and didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. Maybe she was right all along. Maybe he wasn’t a guy to be trusted with matters of family and children and marriage. Maybe war and basic survival were all he was good for.

  He might as well give up on that dream of getting a college education. He’d probably fail at higher education, too, especially if going to night classes meant he had to be away from Carrie for long periods. He couldn’t leave her on her own now, not after he’d proven what a failure he was as a father.

  Brenna had been suggesting courses he could take to get started with his BA in education. She’d urged him to set reasonable goals so he wouldn’t get stressed out. She seemed to know what she was talking about, but hadn’t she seemed just as confident when she’d advised him about Carrie? It had taken a while, but he’d finally learned to trust Brenna with the most important person in his life.

  But he’d listened to her when he should have listened to the voice in his head, the same voice that had promised his wife that he would protect their daughter. Some protector he turned out to be. Carrie could have been killed tonight.

  He raised his head in the cab of the truck and looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. His eyes were blurry, his face dirty. River mud, he supposed, mixed with the streaks of maddening tears when he’d thought the worst had happened. “I wish you were here, Lori. I wish Carrie had a mother and not just a big, dumb soldier who doesn’t know anything about raising a kid.

  “Never again,” he said aloud, feeling a sudden burst of resolve. “Trust yourself and no one else. No one can take care of your own flesh and blood like you can. No one but you can keep that promise.”

  This decision had a devastating side effect that he couldn’t think about tonight. He’d have to let Brenna go. Just when they were getting started, he’d have to end it. That would hurt for a while, just like other sacrifices he’d made in his life, but he’d get over it. When he saw his daughter safely at home each night, he’d realize that no sacrifice was too great. If Lori was looking down on him, she would be proud of him. She would know that he intended to keep his word even at the expense of his own happiness.

  But would he get over it? Brenna had made him happy when he’d begun to doubt that he ever would be again. Her gentle chiding, soft touches, tender but needy kisses—they’d transformed him into a man who’d just started to feel comfortable in his own skin again. And now he’d have to go back to being a single dad again. Single. Lonely. Alone.

  When headlights veered through the leafy trees in his drive, he bolted out of the truck. He’d made his decision, difficult as it was. Bobby would be in front of the house in less than a minute. Mike had to find Brenna’s purse and lay it on the hood of her car. She was a smart lady in many ways. She’d know what it meant. And then he’d have to go in the cabin and try to be the best father he knew how to be.

  * * *

  “THANKS FOR THE LIFT,” Brenna said when she got out of Bobby’s car.

  “No problem. You going to be okay?”

  She leaned into the passenger window. “Sure. I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll just run inside a minute and make sure everything’s all right.”

  “Thanks for everything, Bren,” Diana said. “And I’m so, so sorry about the center. How did Peterson take the news?”

  “He wasn’t happy. Wanted to call the police, but I said it might be wise to wait until tomorrow. Some of these kids come from influential families. I’m hoping the parents will make their little darlings do the right thing and we can avoid anything too messy like court appearances. It’s bad enough the reckless driving will have to be addressed.”

  Bobby looked over his shoulder at his son. “I know one set of parents who will make sure restitution is made.... Right, Charlie?”

  The boy continued staring down at his clasped hands, which he’d been doing during the entire ride to Mike’s.

  “And he’s going to have to get to the center on his two feet or on his bicycle. His mother and I will decide when he can drive again, if ever.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll call your mom with the paint colors you’ll need to buy to do the walls,” Brenna said to Charlie.

  He finally looked up at her. “I’m really sorry, Miss Sullivan. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, or for Carrie to get mixed up in this. It just got out of hand.”

  “Yeah, it did, but you’ll fix it,” she said and backed away from the car. She waited until Bobby had turned around and headed back down the drive before walking to her car. She hoped the purse wouldn’t be there, that Mike had just said he would leave it there in a moment of misdirected anger. But the large clasp on the purse’s leather strap glistened in the moonlight before she actually could make out the shape of her bag. She sighed, tossed the purse in her car and looked at the house.

  Lights were still on in the front room, but despite the cool air, the front door was closed as if shuttered for the night. The air conditioner hummed from the side of the cabin. Other than that, all was quiet.

  She took a few tentative steps toward the porch. She couldn’t leave things like this. Carrie was hurt and confused. Mike was upset and angry. He was definitely angry with her. She recalled all the times he’d asked her not to interfere. All the times she’d told herself the exact same thing. All the times he’d asked her to forget her pledge to herself and help him with his daughter. And so she’d broken her own promise and let these two sad people into her life and her heart. She had to try to reach him tonight before the bitter feelings escalated and there was no going back.

  This was a turning point for all of them. She had to help Mike see that this was a chance to understand each other better, to learn from their mistakes, to go forward with a new sense of trust in each other.

  She walked onto the porch and raised her hand to knock. Then she stopped, let her hand fall to her side. The lights inside were suddenly extinguished. The house and the porch were cloaked in darkness. She knew without question that Mike was shutting her out just as surely as he’d switched off the lights.

  She got in her car and drove home. Maybe after a night’s sleep he’d see this situation more clearly and he’d call her.

  He didn’t. Sunday seemed to stretch on forever. Brenna left her house in the afternoon to go to the Cul
tural Arts Center to see if any progress was being made on the cleanup—and maybe to catch a glimpse of Mike. She ran into Diana in the parking lot. Diana told her that various parents had arrived to monitor the kids and make sure the work was being done correctly.

  “I think you’ll be pleased with the results,” Diana said and then punctuated her optimism with a frown. “Well, I guess pleased isn’t the right word. How can you be pleased when all your hard work has to be redone?”

  “I just want to see the facility open and doing some good for the community,” Brenna said. “Carrie was right about one thing. There isn’t much for teens to do in this town, and with the interesting classes and activities we’re going to offer, I hope the center will fill the void. Mostly, I hope we can reach the students—all of them, even the ones who think the center might not be for them.”

  “Oh, about one of those classes...” Diana’s voice was hesitant, as if she hated to give her friend more bad news.

  “What?”

  “Mike has canceled his basic automobile care class. He’s decided not to teach it.”

  Brenna tried not to show her disappointment. Mike would have been a great instructor. The girls would have flocked to his class for obvious reasons—a hunky teacher discussing spark plugs was an automatic draw, and the boys would have wanted to be with the girls. “Did he say why?” she asked.

  “No, but I only spoke to him for a few minutes. He stopped to drop Carrie off and left right away.”

  To avoid seeing me, Brenna thought.

  “Is Carrie still here?” Brenna asked.

  “She is, and she’s working hard. She was asking about you. I think she wants to talk.”

  No way. Brenna figured Mike would ground his daughter until she was twenty-one if he discovered she was commiserating with the evil Miss Sullivan.

  “Why don’t you come inside?” Diana said.

  “Can’t. I’ve got errands to run. But call if you need anything.”

 

‹ Prev