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Broken Promises
Hardly a moment goes by, I don’t remember. The laughter, the happiness, the feeling of elation that gave me goosebumps of delight. I couldn’t have guessed in those early moments, the travesty I would experience later on.
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“Did you promise?” Charity looked up from her perch on the piano stool.
“Promise what?” I asked. My fingers moved over the ivory picking out a tune I barely remembered. I longed to be there again.
“Did you promise? You know, the love, honor and obey… that stuff brides are supposed to promise.” Her voice had a tone ever so reminiscent of whining.
“Yes, Charity. I promised.” My voice drifted off on the notes I fingered.
Time stood still. I gazed up at the photo on top of the piano. We gazed into each other’s eyes and promised, “…until death do you part.” I shivered and stood up from the piano.
“Let’s go make dinner.” I whispered. “Better yet, let’s go out.” I took her hand and picked up the keys to the car.
More than half way across town, I pulled into one of my favorite diners. “Chicken salad?” I watched Charity step away from the car before I closed the door.
“I think I’ll have blueberry pancakes.” She answered. “Can I?”
“You can have whatever you want.” I took her hand and walked toward the berry blue front door of the hole in the wall diner.
“Why did he break his promise?” Charity had surmised the problem quite well, considering she’d never been told why Greg left.
“I don’t really know.” I answered, looking back at the menu. “I suppose… maybe he didn’t mean it?”
“That’s very bad.” She looked down at the placemat before her and doodled on the paper.
“Cassidy, you’re looking wonderful!” The owner of the restaurant stood before them with a note pad to take their order. “What can I get for you today, Miss Charity?”
“I want some blueberry pancakes.” Charity answered him, “can I have those with whipped cream?”
“You certainly may.” He wrote down her order. “Cassidy? Did you notice the back booth?” He whispered.
“No.” I looked. ”Interesting.”
“He’s been here since we opened.” He nodded to the man at the back booth, a newspaper held in front of his face. “He just sits there reading the paper.”
“Do I?” I nodded in Charity’s direction.
“I’ll never tell him you’re here, and he won’t look up.”
“Okay,” I watched for a moment and waited for the tell-tale look and recognition. It never came.
“Chicken Salad?”
“Yes, please.” I nodded. “Does he come here often?”
“No. But, he’s been here for the last four days.” He shrugged, “from open to close.”
“That’s weird.”
“Says he got fired.”
“Nothing new.” I looked back at Charity, drawing on the paper. “He never held a job for long.”
“Mom, can we go shopping after dinner?”
“What for?”
“I want a new dress for Sunday.”
“Sounds like a fun afternoon. Let’s go shopping.”
Dinner arrived a few minutes later and Charity and I concentrated on our food.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Cassidy.”
The voice sent chills down my spine. I didn’t have to look up to know whose voice I heard, or to know how close he was.
“Who’s that man, Mommy?”
…. To Be Continued.
Ringing phones and doorbells always startle me out of my skin. I can’t imagine what the rest of the world does when the doorbell rings on a rainy night, but it never fails to send me jumping for cover. The most recent event in my life resulted in my introduction to the most significantly strange person I’ve ever met.
Rain drops splattered against the dining room window from about sunset on, although I don’t recollect knowing that the sun had actually gone down. Or, that it had been up most of the day. It had been remarkably gray and dismal since I got up that morning. I must have been feeling the mood, because when the doorbell rang I sat straight up on the couch, clutched my book to my chest, and gasped for air. The sigh I let out probably scared any possible gremlins away, although, I remember feeling a few nearby later in the evening. Read the rest of this entry »
