The Promise

by Robyn Carr

  “Gratitude? Shouldn’t you be the one to show gratitude?”

  “That’s right, that’s my job. I’ll get it right. Then we’ll come back here, and if you want me to, I can spend the night. And show even more gratitude. Up against the wall and sweaty!”

  He always made her laugh. She slid up against him, holding him close. “I want that,” she said. “All of that.”

  “Good. All I could think about all day was a long, hot intense night with you. I don’t like being away from you.”

  She didn’t like being away from him, either. And he had rushed back to her. The thought made her smile down to her toes. Nothing, she thought, could possibly go wrong.

  * * *

  Deep in the night, Scott reached for her and pulled her close against him. “Are you awake?” he whispered.

  “Hmm-mmm,” she answered sleepily, snuggling closer.

  “I want to tell you something.” He stroked her cheek. “I didn’t think it would feel like this. I thought I would have a woman in my life again someday. I was open to the idea. Hoping. I didn’t want to stay alone. I wanted what everyone wants—someone they just can’t live without. And I thought when I finally found it—her—it would feel nice. I didn’t think it would feel like this—overwhelming. I wake up thinking about you. I fall asleep wanting you. I’m in love with you, Peyton. Not in an ordinary, comfortable, easy, compatible way, but in a desperate, passionate, powerful way. Completely gone. I want to be with you forever.”

  “Forever is a lot longer than three months,” she said, her voice sleepy.

  “Lots longer. I understand you’re at a crossroads. I know you aren’t sure where you should be next. Maybe you’re not completely sure who you should be with. But, Peyton, I want you to know how I feel, while you’re figuring things out. I love you. I love you completely. I want to be with you. I want us to be together if we can. I think I can make you happy, I really do. I promise you I’ll do everything in my power, and when I give everything I’ve got, it doesn’t fall short—it’s really everything. I want you, you make me feel like there’s nothing else in the universe I need. It’s just you. I want you to know that.”

  “Is that a proposal?” she asked weakly.

  “It can be whatever you want it to be. I love you. I want you. You’re the one for me. I dated a little bit, it wasn’t even interesting to me. It’s you, honey. It’s you I fell for. Just know that. It’s not just lust...okay, there’s a lot of lust. You really do something to me. But there’s more to it—it’s deep in me. It’s solid in me. I know how to treat those feelings, too. I can be steady for you; you can count on me and lean on me, and I’ll always give everything. I promise. Whatever you decide is right for you—at least you have the facts.”

  “I have things to figure out,” she said. “To understand, get over.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not ready to say all that. Not yet.”

  “I know. And I want you to be sure because I’m not interested in being the consolation prize. I’m here when you’re sure.”

  “Maybe while I’m figuring things out, someone else will come along and distract you, make you see there are other fish in the sea.”

  “I’m not him, Peyton,” he said. “There won’t be anyone else.”

  * * *

  Peyton was pretty much walking on air when she got out of bed the next morning. She didn’t doubt Scott’s sincerity for a second. He had treated her to a lot of snuggling, hugging, deep kissing and three very lovely, earth-shattering orgasms. For a man who showed love with every sexual move he made, it was clear he never held back the power of it. He could love gentle; he could love hard. They hadn’t been a couple long, yet he already knew her body so well, evidence that he paid attention.

  And she knew his body. Oh, God, did she know it! She knew how to touch him, tease him, blow his mind. She could bring him to his knees, leave him gasping. And then his reciprocation caused her to cry out, he was so tuned to her desires.

  They’d parted ways in the early morning so Scott could go home for a shower and change of clothes. When Peyton walked into the clinic, she asked Devon if she had talked to Scott.

  “He’s here!” Devon said. “Did you know?”

  “I talked to him last night,” she said, smiling. “He’s a freewheeling bachelor for a few days. I take it saying goodbye to Gabby was hard for the kids, so he left them with the grandmothers for a few days.”

  At that, Scott walked into the reception area. “The grandmothers drive me bat-shit crazy,” he said. “But they can take on the task of buying new clothes. School starts for Will pretty soon, preschool for Jenny.”

  “I hope to meet these grandmothers someday to better understand,” Devon said.

  “Their next visit, they’ll stay with you,” he said. “How’s our schedule today?”

  “Light,” Devon said. “I didn’t expect you back, and I went easy on Peyton. Dr. Stewart came by yesterday afternoon, looked over the charts, approved Peyton’s exams and procedures for the day. He’s nice, by the way. Good choice.”

  “Thank you,” Scott said with a smile.

  “We had walk-ins yesterday, of course,” Devon added.

  “Nothing earthshaking,” Peyton said. “Some allergies, a strained muscle, and I taped up a broken toe—the baby toe.”

  “I thought you talked to Scott last night,” Devon said to her, clearly a little confused that she was left out of the loop.

  “We didn’t talk about work,” Scott said.

  “Oh. I see,” Devon said, looking between them. “I hope you two didn’t think you were fooling anyone, because you’re very obvious.”

  “I wasn’t fooling,” Scott said.

  “Me, either,” Peyton said. “I really had no idea Scott was coming back right away.”

  “The grandmothers are thrilled,” he said.

  “I’m going to pull up the schedule and see how I’m spending the morning,” Peyton said.

  Once she was sitting at her desk, laptop open, her cell phone buzzed. She answered it briskly. “This is Peyton,” she said.

  “Hi,” Ted said. “I need to talk to you.”

  “No, you don’t,” she said. “We have nothing to talk about. We had a clean break, remember?”

  “It’s serious,” he said. “We have issues. Unfinished business.”

  “Take it up with Lindsey,” she said, clicking off. The phone immediately buzzed again. “What?”

  “Listen, Peyton, what would it take to get you to come up here and have a meeting with me?”

  “Am I being investigated for malpractice? Nonfeasance? Embezzlement?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous....”

  “I’m not coming to Portland, Ted. Not now, not ever. You made your choices, some of them irrevocable, and I’m no longer a part of your life.”

  “Think of the patients! Think of the kids!”

  “I’ll think of them as much as you do. How’s that? The answer is no.” And she clicked off again.

  Again the phone buzzed immediately. “This is the last time, then I stop answering.”

  “Things are not okay here,” he said. “The practice is a mess, the office is falling apart, Lindsey can’t do the job, can’t do any job, the kids are in a state of mutiny, everything is chaos.”

  That gave her great satisfaction. She tried not to smile.

  “Please,” he said.

  “I’m working, Ted. I’m very busy. And you made it clear you didn’t need me. You didn’t even need my help in the practice. Obviously you needed someone else. Good luck with that.”

  “Just tell me what it would take. Name a price.”

  “There is no amount of money in the world that would get me to Portland! You used me and then cut me loose. You cheated on me, and you didn’t even have the decency to apologize for it!”

  “What did you expect, Peyton? Really? I wasn’t being taken care of at home, for God’s sake. All we did was fight, and when I crawled into bed, I got your c
old back! What did you really think that would do for our relationship?”

  Scott walked into the office and put a cup of coffee on her desk.

  “You ungrateful son of a bitch!” she hissed into the phone. “Don’t call me again. You made your bed. Good luck.”

  She clicked off and looked up at Scott. “Ted.”

  “Glad to hear that was Ted,” he said. “Otherwise we were going to have to start working on our patient communication skills.”

  The phone buzzed again, and she declined the call. “How do you block calls?”

  “I don’t know, Peyton. I’ve never blocked a call,” he said.

  “Devon!” she called. The young woman showed up in the office doorway, a stunned look on her face. She had never been summoned so rudely. Peyton held up her phone. “Do you know how to block calls on one of these?” Devon shook her head. “My ex is calling. He’s going to keep calling. He’s used to getting whatever he wants. I don’t want to change my number—I have a hundred relatives. I want to keep him out. Can you find out how to block calls?”

  Devon’s features relaxed. “I think I know someone who will know. I’ll get right on it. Want me to answer your phone in the meantime?”

  “Oh, that would be nice,” she said, holding it toward Devon.

  “Or I could,” Scott offered.

  “No, not you. I don’t want him to think I need a man to stand up to him. I can stand up to him just fine. I just want to block him. I want to block his office numbers and his cell number.”

  “What kind of trouble is he in?” Scott asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t care. But I got the impression the new woman can’t handle the work at the office and can’t deal with the kids at home. I’d put money on it.” She shook her head. “I thought, of all things, he was smart. But he couldn’t figure out what the rest of us could see coming ten miles away.”

  An hour later, after thirty missed calls, the numbers were blocked. It turned out that Devon’s best friend, Laine, had been an FBI Agent—she knew exactly what to do.

  In that hour, Peyton did a little thinking. It was nearly lunchtime when she pulled Scott aside. “Listen, is there any chance you can get some time away? If Devon can clear the schedule, maybe we could drive up to Vancouver, pick up the kids and take them to the farm for the weekend.”

  “You sure? Because if you feel you should go to Portland—”

  “I’m not going to Portland,” she said vehemently.

  “Think of closure, Peyton. Think of closing doors before you try to open new ones.”

  She ignored him. “It’s crazy busy at the farm. We’d be crowded together. It might mean sleeping bags or someone’s camper shell. They’re picking pears—it’s that time of year. Pears don’t ripen on the tree like apples, they have to be picked before a freeze. There will be Lacoumettes all over the place. The kitchen will be full of dark-haired women cooking for an army, speaking strange languages, everything from French to Spanish to Basque to Ameri-Basque. And all over the farm—trucks, people, equipment everywhere. End of day, the wine is busted out, sometimes there’s a big fire and dancing. It can be a lot of fun. The new lambs aren’t too big, there’s a Shetland pony, barn dogs and cats, chickens to chase. It’s a circus. But it’s my circus, and I think the kids might like it. It might take their minds off saying goodbye to Gabby.”

  He smiled. “Sounds like fun.”

  “We could drive up to Vancouver on Thursday. Back south to the farm on Friday. We could spend a couple of days and be back to work on Monday morning. If you can close the clinic and get coverage.”

  “Did Ted ever go to the farm? Ted and his kids?”

  She nodded. “They were appalled. They thought we lived like dust-bowl peasants because our clothes got dirty and there was manure used as fertilizer all over. And everyone didn’t have their own bathroom with whirlpool tub. There’s not one walk-in closet on the property. There’s only one TV. And it’s Paco’s, my father’s. They were shocked.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “The kids will be in heaven.”

  “Sometimes my mother serves squid,” she said by way of warning.

  “I tell Will and Jenny that everything is chicken. Let me make a couple of calls. We can move our appointments and direct our emergencies to Dr. Stewart’s urgent care. So, Thursday?”

  “Yes. Let’s spend a little time with the grandmothers. Dinner Thursday night and breakfast in the morning? Then we can hit the farm Friday afternoon. And really, if it’s too much, we can pack up and head back here. I know this is a little spontaneous,” she said.

  “Are you running away from Ted?”

  “No, Ted is blocked! But I want to show you my world. You might want to rethink everything.”

  He took a step toward her and gave her a little kiss on her lips. His first demonstration of affection in the office. “I want to know your life. I want to be part of it. I want to call Ted and thank him for being such an impossible asshole.”

  There was a sound in the office doorway, and they both turned. Devon was leaning in the frame, arms crossed over her chest, smiling. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  “Were you spying? Eavesdropping?” Scott asked.

  She nodded, still smiling. “I’ll start working on the schedule.”

  “Devon, you were eavesdropping!”

  “I know. Very few perks in this job. I’ll get right on that schedule.” And she turned and left them.

  Thirteen

  There was something so intimate and protected about a road trip. Peyton and Scott started out at seven in the morning, stopped for a leisurely breakfast in North Bend, then shot up the freeway to the Washington border. Within the privacy of the car, it was time for some details she hadn’t previously shared. “It’s not as though I didn’t see the warning signs. I did. I thought they were warnings we could deal with. It felt like minutes after I moved into his house, he spent less time there. I confronted it immediately. I didn’t mind the unofficial role as stepmother, but I knew his children needed his parenting. The kids competed with me and defied me, signs that they needed their father. He seemed to try, but too soon we were back to the routine of Ted being too busy. When I found myself sitting in parent-teacher conferences, I knew we were in serious trouble. And yet, I kept trying to turn it around.”

  “But didn’t you work, too?” Scott asked.

  “At least forty hours a week while they were in school or summer programs or occasionally at home under the housekeeper’s supervision. Ted listened to the housekeeper. She would regularly threaten to quit if they made her life miserable. He would threaten the kids. ‘If Mrs. Hardcastle quits, you will all go to boarding schools.’ They would stay pretty invisible on her watch. But Mrs. Hardcastle didn’t carpool or take them to doctor or orthodontist appointments. For that, someone would have to leave work, and it wasn’t the cardiologist.” She cringed. “Red flag.”

  “How did you plan to get around all these red flags?”

  “By reasoning with him,” she said. “By reasoning with them. I even tried to make friends with the ex-wife, to enlist her help with her kids. That was a futile exercise.”

  “How long did you try reasoning?”

  She sighed. “Scott, those kids are in trouble. Literally. Conflicts at school, dropping grades, tantrums at home, ignoring rules. Pam was caught shoplifting once, Krissy had marijuana in her backpack, curfews were disregarded. Ted and I fought over discipline—he was inclined to just let things go while I wanted to bring the hammer down. Then there were two or three days a week when they’d be with their mother, and I could breathe deeply. I honestly don’t know if they were well-behaved for her, or if she, like her ex-husband, ignored their antics. I’m inclined to think she ignored. Those kids would be better off raised by wolves.”

  “Yet you kept trying.”

  “I’ve been called stubborn. But I made a commitment,” she said. “When I agreed to move in with Ted I thought I had a fighting chance o
f turning those kids around. I did everything I could.”

  “Sounds like it was a nightmare,” Scott said. “It also sounds like you were stalwart. You gave a lot.”

  “In the beginning I think I had something to prove. That I hadn’t made a mistake, that I wasn’t delusional. I think I wanted to prove it wasn’t that hard to be a good parent.... Shows what I know. That was closely followed by feeling like a fool. I’d complain to my mother or one of my sisters, and they’d say, ‘Peyton, he just wants one more qualified person to work for him,’ or ‘Don’t you see that he’s taking much more than he’s giving?’ and it put me on the defensive. The last people you want to criticize you are family! Couldn’t they see we were doing the best we could with three kids bruised by divorce? I realized I was still there because I was embarrassed to be a failure, to be an idiot. Almost nothing in my life was working. Well, those hours I spent with cardiac patients worked—that was the one thing I got from Ted and his practice—excellent training and experience in cardiology.”

  “So he was smart in that,” Scott said.

  “He’s brilliant. I hate him like crazy right now, but if my mother had a heart problem, I’d probably take her to Ted. He’s too arrogant to fail at that, even if he despises the patient.”

  “Listen, about that commitment thing,” Scott said. “It’s admirable, but—sometimes you have to know when to walk away. At least you didn’t quit too soon.”

  “My parents are very serious about commitment. It’s the last bastion. The last barrier to fall. Your word is your life. I have one divorced brother. He was in agony with a crazy wife, and the entire Lacoumette family rallied to offer suggestion after suggestion, solution after possible solution. My brother George, the oldest son, finally said, ‘Enough! Cut your losses!’ And Matt bailed.”

  “And did everyone treat him like he failed?” Scott asked.

  “In a subtle way. Sometimes among extended family someone would say, ‘That’s Matt, the divorced one.’ Or it was implied he should have saved that commitment for someone he could partner with, which makes it his failure, doesn’t it? I wonder what they’ll say about me.”