The Promise

by Robyn Carr

  “She’s very good,” Peyton agreed with a laugh.

  “Do not eat that,” the woman introduced as Sophia said to the kids, pointing at the soup. She reached into the freezer and pulled out two chips of ice. “First, stir this around the bowl, test with your upper lip, this part here,” she said, pointing. “If you need, I’ll give you another ice. Not to burn your tongue. We have much eating to do today!”

  Food was being scooped from all kinds of places on to a large plate. Vegetables, salad, meat, more meat, sauce, a bowl of soup, beans and creamy potatoes. It was placed before Scott, a napkin appeared—all the napkins were cloth—utensils came out. A basket, almost big enough to be a laundry basket, was full of bread in many different shapes. Corinne tore off a large chunk of a French loaf and put it on the edge of his plate. “Just a little sampling for you, Dr. Grant.”

  “Are you ever going to call me Scott?” he asked.

  “Perhaps on your next visit,” she said, but her smile was very mischievous.

  “All right, Mrs. Lacoumette,” he said. He picked up his fork and tried some beans. He chewed. His eyes closed. He took a deep breath and said, “Ahhhh.”

  All eyes turned to him. Corinne frowned. “It’s not good?”

  “It’s amazing!” he said. “Amazing!”

  There was a collective sigh and smiles all around. He suspected he’d passed the first test, but it wasn’t much of a challenge as everything he put in his mouth just sent him to heaven. The meat was tenderized with spices he didn’t recognize. The greens were unlike anything he’d ever tasted. He dipped into the soup and grunted, and once again, all the eyes turned to him. “Good,” he said, relaxing their sharp stares. “Very, very good.”

  He hadn’t even noticed that Peyton had disappeared, but she was back, her clothing changed. She wore rough, worn jeans, work boots and a sweatshirt with cut-off sleeves. She helped herself to a small bowl of beans and a large chunk of bread and sat down beside him.

  “When we’ve eaten, get the suitcases. Jenny’s sandals will have to be replaced with tennis shoes. Will’s good, but it might get chilly in the orchard. They’ll need their sweatshirts. Can you dig out your old jeans?”

  He nodded, his mouth full. Was she putting him to work straightaway?

  He took a forkful of a tender fish or something. “What is this?” he asked.

  She leaned close and said, “Txipirones en su tinta. Calamari. Squid. Cooked with Mama’s tomatoes, onions and garlic.”

  “So tender,” he said. “I’m used to calamari being chewy.”

  “Pah! Not in this house!” Corinne said. “It is el punto. Cooked the right way, the Basque way.”

  He was going to like her. He tasted the soup and murmured his approval. Delicious.

  “Potato and chorizo with Mama’s tomatoes,” Peyton said. She pointed to his plate and identified lamb, tenderized beef, the pinto and kidney beans and greens. “There will be lamb stew later—you’ll faint it’s so good. And some things you can try if you like. Oxtail soup, beef tongue, tuna belly.” She grinned. “No obligation.”

  Scott ate everything and even had seconds of the squid, lamb, beans and soup. A little extra bread to dip into the beans and soup. This made Peyton’s mother smile broadly and brag a little about the food coming for dinner. It was time for Scott to bring in the luggage, to find his jeans and Jenny’s tennis shoes. He groaned when he stood.

  “I knew you went overboard,” Peyton said. “Get going, move around a little bit. We have to get Mama’s eggs, then we can visit the animals. Tomorrow I’ll take you over to my brother’s, and the kids can see the lambs. Come on, Scott.”

  “Maybe we should lay down in the hayloft for a while....”

  “Oh, you’re going to make a bad impression.”

  “Your mother loves me—I cleaned my plate. Twice.”

  “And had to be stopped before you did it a third time. Come on!”

  The kids scampered along with Peyton to the chicken coop; Scott followed more slowly. “We should hurry to get the eggs. Mama saved them for you, I think. She’s usually out here early. We need a lot, so I hope the hens haven’t been lazy.” They had to shoo the dogs away, and Peyton stomped at a couple of roosters, sending them skittering off. The kids were a little hesitant until she told them the chickens were gentle and rarely pecked, being used to having their eggs collected every day. Then she showed them how to slip a gentle hand under a hen and pull out an egg. She put her hand over Will’s and guided him, whispering, “Please, don’t squeeze the egg. It’s very fragile. Hold it light as a feather.” When he got the first one, he lit up.

  “Me,” Jenny said. “Now me!”

  “Shh, no jumping up and down. We have to stay very calm around the hens or they’ll get upset, and hens who are upset can’t lay eggs.”

  “How do they lay the eggs?” Will asked.

  “Well, I’ve never actually seen it happen, but the eggs are carried inside them, and they settle on the nest, and when the eggs are ready, the hens push them out.”

  “Like babies?”

  “Like babies,” Peyton said. “Jenny, let’s get the next egg together. Put your hand under mine. When you feel the egg, tell me.”

  “I feel it!” she whispered. “I feel two!”

  “Jackpot,” Peyton said. “Bring them out one at a time.”

  By the time they’d collected a half dozen, the kids could do it without Peyton’s hand. They pulled out another half dozen, a very good crop. Corinne was impressed and praised Will and Jenny.

  Scott was looking as if he might need a nap. But she dragged him along to the barn. The kids met the few cows and goats, but the popular winner was the miniature pony. Peyton put a lead on him and brought him into the corral so the kids could take turns on his back. Jenny was chased by a rooster, Will was nipped by a goat, but even so, it was a completely positive barnyard tour.

  Chasing dogs, cuddling kittens, racing through the barn—it all served to wear them down. And then, as the sun was lowering, a parade of people started returning to the house. Men, a few women, teenage boys and girls, all looking weary and dirty. They washed up in the barn and in the outdoor vegetable sink on the back porch.

  “Time for dinner,” Peyton said. “Can you take the kids inside and get them cleaned up for dinner?”

  “Change their clothes?” he asked.

  “Just brush them off outside and take them to the upstairs bathroom to wash hands and faces. That should do. These guys aren’t going to get dressed up to eat. They’ll probably fall into bed right after dinner.”

  When Scott got inside, he saw the table was set for many—at least twenty. He was introduced to Uncle Sal who was putting open bottles of wine on the table. Aunt Sophia was adding pitchers of tea and lemonade. Platters and tureens and bowls were being readied in the kitchen, and a great hodgepodge of people migrated to the table. Aside from being introduced to Peyton’s father, commonly known in the family as Paco, there was very little talking. Everyone, it appeared, was tired to the bone. But then wine was poured, tapas came out, a couple of baskets of bread were put on the table along with olive oil and some kind of fish paste. And with the wine, conversation loosened up. By the time the first tureen of soup arrived, there was laughter. Scott was asked who his people were, where he came from, what his town was like, how his clinic was getting along. Paco soon shifted his attention to Will and Jenny, made a place for each of them beside him, sharing his bread, making them laugh.

  “What meat do you like?” he asked Will. “Sausage? Lamb? Chicken?”

  Will shrugged. “Are they the same chickens? Because I got their eggs today, and I liked them.”

  “You’ll get around that. Corinne, bring the boy pears and cheese!” Paco yelled. And then to Jenny, he said, “Do you like potatoes and beans? Corinne, soup for my guest!”

  The platters of meat came out, and Paco showed the kids how to gnaw the lamb off the bone, and they tried it, both of them liking it. They ate tapas, not realizin
g there was fish lying atop the pimento and cheese slice. Paco was large and robust, with the broad shoulders of a man who had been physically challenged by hard work every day of his life.

  Dinner was a social event that went on for some time, but immediately following the meal, everyone who had worked in the orchard drifted off, headed straight for bed. The women gathered in the kitchen both to clean up and store food and to eat, gossip and laugh around the work island. Peyton’s brother George took some of his relatives across the property to his house, Corinne and Paco put up several in their house, there was one RV and one fifth wheel that housed more aunts, uncles and cousins. Scott was given a room with two bunk beds in it.

  On Saturday, Peyton drove them around the property in a Rhino, a vehicle perfect for getting around the farm. They saw the orchard, the potato fields and George’s sheep. It was a long and busy day.

  Dinner that night started out the same, but it didn’t end with exhausted workers headed for bed. A fire was built behind the house, and there were chairs surrounding it. Everyone gathered, and a few instruments came out—a clarinet, a drum, an accordion, a horn. Music began to serve as a backdrop to conversation. Some men lit thin cigars or pipes, and wine bottles were passed around.

  And then Uncle Sal got up and began to dance. Paco followed his brother. George joined them, and within a few minutes there were a couple of teenage boys joining in the traditional dance. If they’d been wearing their cultural garb of white with red vests and caps it would have felt like a Basque festival, but these were tired yet energized men who had worked hard all day and wore the dress of farmers. And they danced like young men, whooping, slapping the air, grinning, twirling, kicking.

  Paco pulled Will into the group, and he looked completely confused, then one of the teenagers showed him a couple of steps and kicks, and he was immediately into it.

  Peyton grabbed little Jenny’s hand and took her behind all the chairs and danced around with her. Some of the girls and women clapped for the dancing men.

  And Scott thought, I’m on another planet. It was like a fairy tale filled with excellent food, great wine, good cheer, celebration. Then the thing that brought it all home for him happened. Paco grabbed his wife of over thirty-five years and planted a big kiss on her mouth, holding her tight for a moment, laughing lustfully as she tried to get away from his coltish playfulness.

  They were still hot for each other after all the hard years and eight kids. That was perfect.

  Scott and the kids headed for bed before the older men gave up their wine, cigars, dance and laughter. Peyton went into the house with him, helping to get the kids bathed. “We can leave in the morning. The harvest is done until next Friday. Tomorrow they’ll all go to church and then home. Papa will send pears, slaughtered and frozen lamb and extra food with them all. When they help Uncle Sal at the vineyard, they bring home many bottles of wine—that’s the best. Are you exhausted?”

  “I’m exhausted,” Scott said. “The kids have had the time of their lives. I think this was better than Disneyland!”

  “They’ll be asleep in seconds. Let’s go out to the front porch swing and snuggle up for a little while. In the morning we’ll head back to Thunder Point. I’ll talk Mama out of some of your favorite dishes,” she said.

  “Ohhh.” He sighed. “You are a dream come true.”

  “And you, Dr. Grant, are a glutton!”

  Fourteen

  It was the first week of September, school had started for Will. Jenny and Mercy were attending a preschool in Bandon three days a week, with Eve McCain babysitting the other two days. And Scott Grant felt truly alive for the first time in four years.

  He tried to play his cards close to his vest, not behave too demonstratively, but when he touched Peyton, his feelings were as raw and honest as they could possibly be. And naturally, since Scott had no guile, his words followed suit, especially when they made love. Nuzzling her neck, he asked. “Do you know what your skin smells like?”

  “Yes. Right now it smells like you,” she said with laughter in her voice.

  “Before it smells like me, it smells like rain. And faintly of flowers. And freshly washed linens. I can’t get enough. It’s intoxicating. Do you know what you taste like?”

  “You?”

  “Before that, you’re candy floss and champagne. Sweet and delicious and so soft on my tongue.”

  They had been changed by their few days away and talked endlessly about their families and the differences in where they’d come from, even though they’d actually grown up just a hundred miles apart. It hadn’t exactly been planned, yet it did a lot to cement their relationship. Now all he could do was hope that Peyton was beginning to feel the same way. She was everything he had wanted in a woman for such a long time.

  They fell into a nice routine in the clinic the week after their trips to Vancouver and the farm. Peyton had some ideas and suggestions for improvements—for one thing, she felt strongly that the clinic needed an X-ray machine. When Scott told her he had considered that when money loosened up a little bit, she began drafting grant proposals. The clinic assisted so many patients on federal and state entitlement medical programs, and there was grant money available. Not only did she begin researching qualifications and drafting copy, she brought Devon up to speed on the process, increasing her already impressive office skills.

  It was Friday, and the clinic was empty of patients at the lunch hour. Devon had gone across the street to the diner for a bite to eat, Peyton was busy at the computer in Scott’s office and Scott was sitting at Devon’s desk in reception looking through patient notes. A man walked in. Scott knew who he was immediately. He was either Superman or Ted Ramsdale. He was exactly as Peyton had described him. Six-two, thick dark hair, broad shoulders, a face handsome enough for feature films, chiseled enough to cut glass. And above all, poised and confident.

  “Hello,” Scott said, standing from the desk. “Can I help you?”

  “Dr. Ramsdale, here to see Peyton Lacoumette.”

  Scott was a healthy six feet tall, yet this man with his square jaw and piercing blue eyes somehow made him feel puny. “Let me tell her you’re here,” he said. But when he turned toward the back of the clinic, Peyton was already standing in the hallway.

  “What can I do for you, Ted?” she asked smoothly.

  Ted looked around briefly. “Is there a place we can have a private conversation?”

  “Scott, is your office available for a few minutes?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  He watched as Ted let himself through the break in the counter and followed Peyton down the hallway. He noticed that Ted reached out to grab her elbow as if to escort her, and she shook him loose, throwing a grimace over her shoulder at him. Scott wished he hadn’t even seen that. He was afraid it would fill him with false hope. He stood at the counter. He let out his breath. Wow. He came after her.

  And then Scott overheard them speaking.

  “Peyton, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “Well, I’m practicing in a clinic. And it’s going to be a very busy afternoon, so, please, get right to the point,” she said.

  “Peyton, with your ability you deserve far better than this little dump.”

  “This is a very respectable clinic, Ted. We have an outstanding staff. We do good work here. If you’re just going to be insulting, please, leave. At once.”

  “Stop, stop, I didn’t come here to discuss your current place of employment. We have to talk about us. We had our problems, but I think we can work them out. We were a very good team, and I’m not managing very well without you. I didn’t realize how much you meant to me until you were gone, and now...I really need you back.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to manage.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes, Peyton. I need you back in Portland. The kids need you.”

  “I’m sure Lindsey will be more than happy to lend a hand,” she said.


  “Look, I know you’re very upset about Lindsey, and I admit, it was a terrible mistake on my part and I’m sorry. She’s out of the picture. She’s gone, and I have to straighten out this mess with you.”

  “Out of the picture,” Peyton said slowly. “Aren’t you expecting a baby with her? A baby you created while we were a couple? While we were still living and sleeping together!”

  “We’ve been over that. You were freezing me out, ending it with me. It’s no excuse, but that’s how it was at the time. I might not have made the best decision, but there certainly was provocation. It’s reasonable I’d turn somewhere. But that’s over, so—”

  “No, Ted, it’s not over. What about the baby?”

  “I’ll support her and the baby, but she’ll have to work elsewhere. I should have known better than to fall into that trap. Now, what’s it going to take, Peyton? I have more problems than I can count since you left, and I’m sorry. I regret damn near everything, especially her.”

  Scott was shaking his head in absolute awe. He did that to her? And he expects her to accept his apology and come back?

  “You’re too late,” she said. “I have no intention of going back to Portland.”

  “You have to listen to reason,” he said. “I want you to—”

  Scott took quick steps back to his office. He swung the door open without knocking, and Ted whirled around with a scowl on his face. “As fascinating as I’m finding this conversation, I’ve already heard too much,” Scott said. “I need you to take it out of here. Now.”

  “I have appointments soon, Scott. Ted and I are finished talking. I have a busy afternoon ahead,” Peyton said.

  “I’ll cover for you. It sounds like you have things to settle. Go, settle them.”

  “Apparently there’s no privacy in this clinic,” Ted said. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk. How about your place? You do have a place around here somewhere?”

  “We’ll walk down to the dock at the marina. You’re not coming to my house,” she said. She grabbed her sweater and headed past both men, down the hall and out the clinic’s front door.