Abby's Promise

by Rebekah Dodson

  “It’s not worth it, Malachai, I told you,” she said to her son. She turned and looked at Abby. “It isn’t enough you killed my son, but you have to keep Zoey from me, too?” I saw the glisten of tears in her eyes. “I will pray for you, Abigail Years. I will pray God will forgive you.”

  Abby met her glare fiercely, saying nothing. Her eyes flashed with ire.

  Cheryl hobbled past us, and the waiter released Malachai, who glared at us one last time before they exited the restaurant.

  Mr. Johnson and the waiter looked between Abby and me.

  “Check, please,” I said, “and our order to go.”

  Sitting in the car outside her house in silence wasn’t an ideal end to our perfect date, the one that had been eight years in the making. The argument and my near hit at the restaurant wasn’t at all what I had planned, either.

  Abby wouldn’t talk to me on the way home. It was sad, too, because she held the food in her lap and stared at it, and I was starving. But I couldn’t pressure her.

  We pulled into her driveway in the late afternoon. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Abby said finally. She unbuckled slowly.

  “Hey, I get it.” I tried to understand. “Even I remember Cheryl was a crazy church lady. Evan was always griping about her.”

  “It got a lot worse after his death,” Abby said, trailing a design in the Styrofoam container in her lap. “She couldn’t let him go. She started some weird things, convinced she could bring back him back.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” I rolled my eyes. “She got into that crap?”

  “Yeah.” Abby finally looked at me. “Seances and stuff. With her diagnoses and then Evan’s death, the stress just got to her, I guess. I felt so bad, but she didn’t know the Evan I knew. I didn’t want Zoey around that breed of crazy, ya know? So, I just didn’t. I made up every excuse I could to keep her away. They finally left for Europe, and I hoped they wouldn’t come back.”

  “It’s too bad they did,” I said. “What did you say about the Evan you knew? What does that mean?”

  The look she gave me was so haunted it startled me. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she warned.

  I sighed and rubbed my chin. “Well, I’m sorry today didn’t go as we planned.”

  She smiled sadly. “What do you mean? Lunch was, well, awkward, but I’m grateful you stopped him before it got worse.”

  “As any man should when a lady’s honor needs defended.”

  She blinked at me. “Why are you so good, Joey Harrison?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I always have been.”

  “That’s true,” she said hesitantly. “At least the arcade was fun. The most fun I’ve had in a while.”

  “Which part?” I asked before I could think about it.

  She gave me a sideways glance. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Lunch aside, I really couldn’t stop thinking about the way she grabbed me in that arcade booth. I wasn’t expecting that, not at all. I knew now why she wanted me to go away. Her life was just as messed up at mine. In the end, she couldn’t help kissing me back. I felt it in her and I knew she wanted me as much I wanted her. She pushed me away, just as she did in high school, but then I’d fled a world away. Now, I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Abby, there’s something I need to ask you. Will you answer honestly?”

  She frowned me. “I’m not sure I know what you’re about to ask.”

  “It’s about Zoey.”

  “Oh.”

  “Did you name her that for any particular reason?”

  She paused, biting her lip and looking out the window again. “I missed you, Joey. When you left, nothing was the same. In fact, everything was miserable.”

  I frowned, not sure what to say.

  “I was so lonely for the first couple of years in college. It was tough to make friends. Then Evan came home from the war, his three years up in the Army. It was a whirlwind romance.”

  “You don’t have to,” I started to say. The last thing I want to do was talk about Evan, especially our encounter with his mother.

  “No, Joey, listen.” She turned and closed her hand over mine. “Zoey brought me back to life, the way you had, in high school. I didn’t mean to name her that, but it just came out after she was born. Evan just agreed.”

  “So back at the trail, when you told me she was named after me, you weren’t lying?”

  “No, I wasn’t. I broke a lot of promises to you, Joey, and I wish I hadn’t. Zoey was an opportunity to start over.”

  “Well, I’m honored,” I said softly.

  “Why?”

  I squeezed her hand. “It means you never forgot me.”

  She gave me a sad smile and slid her hand away, returning to the window. Our conversation had dwindled, and I wasn’t sure if she was remembering Evan or not. I also didn’t know how to fix any of that crap with Evan’s mother. I’m just a simple soldier—I’d done more talking with her today than I had in the last three months I’d been home. I wasn’t tired of it by any means, but my life was just so boring compared to hers. Maybe that was a good thing.

  Neither of us wanted to get out of the truck. I don’t think either of us wanted to be alone. And we were both too scared to say it.

  Abby sighed and handed me the food. “Enjoy it,” she said sadly, and I noticed she was clutching that damn teddy bear. I’d seen a silly fool to give it to her with that cheesy pick up line: Your desk one looked lonely.

  What had I been thinking?

  God, Abby looked beautiful sitting next to me, with the sunlight over the back of her house barely highlighting her blonde waves and the round curve of her cheek. I’d spent a great deal of the day staring at her. For the first time since she walked into my classroom, I realized she’d gained a bit of weight since high school—since she had Zoey, I assumed. She was even sexier than I remembered. Despite all the shit she’d been through, she didn’t deserve to be treated the way that Malachai and Cheryl had. They clearly didn’t know the girl I did.

  She turned and stared at me, her hand frozen on the door handle, her damn lip tucked between her bottom teeth. “Do you want to come in?”

  My palms were sweating as I gripped the steering wheel and shut off the engine. Today was a crazy, wild ride, and it was only four o’clock. The adrenaline of pinning Malachai and the last hour of driving had only made my libido surge into overdrive. I didn’t know if I could control the hard-on pressing against my zipper if I went inside with her. Abby wasn’t just beautiful, she was rounded curves I longed to get my hands on. And that darkness she dealt with, just under the surface, I wanted to wipe it away. I wanted to touch her, heal her, somehow.

  “Alright, if you want me to,” I told her.

  She nodded, but God she looked scared. I hated that.

  I followed her to the front porch, wiping my hands on my jeans and clearing my throat. “Are you sure Zoey’s okay with your mom?”

  “Mom loves watching Zoey,” she said over her shoulder. “Oh, crap,” she mumbled, stooping to the rug in front of the door. It was a good view, especially in that short dress. She pried a key from under it, quicker than I wanted her to. “I forgot Lettie has my keys.” She flipped the light on and slipped off her shoes, holding the door open, as she set the teddy bear on a small table just inside the doorway. “Are you coming or not?”

  I resisted the urge to make an immature joke: I will if you let me. I didn’t think a girl like Abby would appreciate my reverting to my fifteen-year-old self. Instead, I joked, “What will your neighbors think?” She didn’t laugh, but the hunger, combined with a little terror, in her eyes told me now was not the time for hilarity. “Abby, look, maybe I should just go. Maybe we shouldn’t.” I trailed off, seeing the innocence in her glassy eyes, but then she shifted, and I saw her, really saw her, for the first time. She wasn’t the same girl from high school. Right here, right now, she was all woman. She searched my face, biting her lip again.

  “Joey?”

  “Yes?”


  “Stop talking.”

  Before I could throw another joke in to lighten the mood, she surprised me by reaching out and grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me over the threshold so hard I nearly stumbled. I kicked the door shut behind me.

  Everything happened so fast. My lips found hers, and they were deep, hungry. She tasted like the sweet lemonade she’d ordered at the restaurant and never had time to finish. She was desperate for comfort, and though a small part of my prehistoric lizard brain told me this was a bad idea, I couldn’t help myself. We were back in the arcade again, only this time we didn’t have an audience, and no where we had to be. She was mine, all mine, in the silent emptiness of her house.

  She pulled away slowly, and I rest my forehead against hers. “Are you sure about this, Abby?”

  “I’ve never been so sure about anything.”

  Her words were music to my ears. I kissed her again, claiming her sweet essence for my own. My hand found the back of her neck, the other roamed to her backside, lifting the hem of her short dress. I felt the edge of her stockings, such an old-fashioned thing for a woman to wear. I played my fingers across the lace edge.

  I moaned against her. “Jesus, Abby, really?”

  “I don’t like pantyhose,” she murmured around my kisses. “They’re uncomfortable.”

  Chuckling and still pressing my lips to those delicious lips, I wrapped my other hand around her smooth rear end and picked her up. She wasn’t too heavy for me—the Marines had solved that problem. I backed her against the wall and slid her dress to her waist as she threw her head back.

  “Aren’t we going to head to the bedroom?” she moaned against me.

  “I don’t think I can make it that far,” I said, and her underwear tore away with my first yank. I tossed it to the corner behind the door. “God, Abby, I want you so bad.”

  “Jo-Jo,” she mumbled against me as I trailed kisses down her neck.

  She slid to the floor, pulling her dress over her head, revealing her amble breasts that threatened to spill out of her lacy black bra. God, she was gorgeous.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, frowning, and I froze. With this much blood pumping away from my brain at rapid speed, I wasn’t sure how to answer.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I blurted, sliding out of my shirt.

  “Oh, God,” she breathed, her hands roaming my upper arms and across my firm chest. “The Marines took a boy and sent me back a man.”

  “And I plan to show you what a real man is.” I grinned, taking her lips to mine again.

  Right there in the foyer of her house I made love to the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. The swell of her breasts, the curve of her stomach, the width of her thighs, I loved it all. I cherished every time she let me touch her. She was my goddess, and I was only her humble servant sent to set her free.

  I promised Abby I’d come home.

  And I had.

  Chapter 8

  Abby Girl: When are you coming back stateside?

  Jo-Jo: A month. Six weeks. I dunno.

  Abby Girl: We should hang out.

  Jo-Jo: I thought you were too busy with college.

  Abby Girl: Taking a term off.

  Jo-Jo: Why?

  Abby Girl: Reasons. Serious, Jo-Jo. I haven’t seen you in forever.

  Jo-Jo: It’s only been a year since I left.

  Abby Girl: I dunno, I just…did you know Clary got married?

  Jo-Jo: Clary? She was a junior. She’s barely eighteen, right?

  Abby Girl: Yup.

  Jo-Jo: I don’t know if I ever want to get married.

  Abby Girl: Me either.

  Jo-Jo: I know, right?

  Abby Girl: One person for like, ever? Sounds awful.

  Jo-Jo: Promise me one thing?

  Abby Girl: What’s that?

  Jo-Jo: If I am ever crazy enough to get married, stop me, would ya?

  Abby Girl: A girl can’t let her bestie take the plunge, right? Hey, it’s late. You got my number, call me when you get stateside, right?

  Jo-Jo: You know I will.

  It took us two hours to finally find the bedroom; we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. And as the sun set outside my bedroom window, we found each other after a lifetime apart.

  Don’t judge me—eighteen months is a long time without a man. Eight years between Joey and I—even longer. A lifetime. I could still remember the day he left, and I made him promise he’d call me when he got overseas. Despite the huge burden and inconvenience, he always had. Until I’d married Evan, that was, and I stopped returning his phone calls and emails. Joey was there, and Evan had been here at the time.

  Evan. I couldn’t think about him. It hurt too much, and I still grieved when I thought about him. Cheryl had been right: my negligence in Evan’s depression had driven him over the edge, and I’d never stop blaming myself for it. Instead, I turned on my side, pulling the blanket over me, watching Joey sleep. His barely-there stubble was fine on his cheek and his long, dark lashes covered his eyes perfectly.

  I felt like a creep. I never watched Evan sleep. But Joey, well, there was something so beautiful about his peacefulness. He reminded me of Zoey; so calm and content. He sighed softly and smiled in his sleep like Zoey did, only his strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me tightly toward him.

  Content, I settled into the crook of his arm and kissed him lightly, but he didn’t stir. Why had I waited so long for this? Why had I denied myself this piece of heaven, even in high school?

  Maybe because back then, we were awkward teenagers and had no idea where to even start.

  But Joey? Joey was all man now. Good Lord, all man. I bit my lip and shut my eyes, remembering our passions of the night before. My heart swelled with love for him, remembering how he treated me like a fragile goddess, like a woman who needed, wanted, to be touched in the most intimate and special ways.

  Even with Evan, it had been so different. He had been gentle and kind, but hardly had the libido that I needed—and the military sent him away often the first year we were married. The second year, when I discovered I was pregnant with Zoey, Evan was gone for the first seven months. Any sex drive I once had evaporated into thin air. After Zoey—well, that was another story entirely. You don’t have to worry about birth control when your husband is too depressed to touch you anyway.

  Gasping, I pushed away from Joey and shot out of bed, pulling the sheet with me. I stumbled into the bathroom, flicking on the light, and stared at myself in the mirror.

  Oh, no, Abigail. What have you done?

  My image shocked me. My long, wavy blonde hair was disheveled, even my blurred eye makeup that completed that ‘just screwed’ look wasn’t enough to make me laugh. I was too disgusted with myself to find any humor in it.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  After Zoey, I bothered with birth control for exactly a month. Enough time for me to give up on the disaster of breastfeeding and realize that Evan, well, wasn’t Evan anymore. I never bothered to refill the prescription. Condoms were just easier for the once in a blue moon event if Evan was in the mood.

  I can’t believe that not once last night had it occurred to us to use protection. What was wrong with us? We were both adults. Adults hooked up all the time. They were smart about it. Pregnancy aside, who had Joey been with in the last eight years? There were STDs and HIV to think about, though I doubted that would be an issue.

  “Abby? Come back to bed,” Joey called from the other room.

  Breathing hard, I shut the bathroom door and called, “Just getting a shower! You should get home. Your mom will be worried!”

  Jesus, I felt like a teenager, sneaking around like this. I threw on the shower, turning it to scalding. Oh, no. What if one of my students drove by, and saw his truck in my driveway? It wasn’t a huge town; a few of them knew where I lived by association, despite never giving out that kind of personal information. I just prayed since he was a new student
no one knew his truck.

  I scrubbed in the shower viciously, holding back the tears. There was nothing I could do now. The damage had already been done. In the future, we really should plan for it.

  Future? We?

  Hold on—throttle this brake. This was moving too fast. He’d only moved back a few weeks ago, and we’d already slept together. I was delighted and scared, and above all it terrified me. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I thought about the arcade last night, and the way he’d won that teddy bear. The one on your desk looked lonely, he had said. Jesus, Joey knew the way to my heart, didn’t he? I’d fallen for it, too: hook, line, and sinker.

  The bathroom door opened an inch as I was drying off and Joey poked his head in. His face was worried and disappointed at the same time as he frowned at me. “I’d invite you to breakfast, but my mom is frantic. I gotta go.”

  I tugged the towel in front of me, but of course, they were never made for girls my size and didn’t cover much. That hungry look crossed his face and I frowned at him, pushing at the door. “I’ll see you in class,” I said lamely.

  “It’s Sunday,” he noted, “we have all day to…well, I can put my mom off a little longer.” He smiled, eying me up and down.

  “Just go,” I said, biting my lip. Don’t go, I wanted to say. But I needed him to. Before I said something I regretted. Such as, this is a wrong, all of it.

  He shook his head but didn’t question it. “I’ll text you.” He pulled the door shut behind him.

  I’ll text you? I wanted to scream at him, as I listened for my front door to close behind him. You make love to me the way no one else eve has, and that’s all you have to say? Faintly, I heard the roar of his truck starting, then fade as he pulled out of the driveway.

  I let the breath out I’d been holding. I’ll text you. Ugh. It could have been worse. He could have thrown the ‘L’ word around, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. Was I?

  As I dressed in the most plain, comfortable clothes I could find—tank top and yoga pants—I picked up and threw away the remnants of our food we had nibbled on around midnight and changed the sheets on my bed. I cursed myself for last night. I was the one who started it, who invited him in, who yanked him through my doorway. As much as I wanted to blame myself, however, I had to remember: it always takes two.