A Promise to Keep

by Susan Gable

  “Yeah, great fun. Everyone pile on Uncle Hayden. Well, now you can all pile on Uncle Kyle ’cause Uncle Hayden’s going to get something to eat. Nick, you wanna come?”

  The boy shook his head. “I’ll play.”

  “Okay, Nick’s the new team captain. All you kids against Uncle Kyle.” He laughed, cuffing his younger brother on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

  Hayden trudged up the hill. Spotting Jordan on the upper deck, he waved to her. She waved back, less than enthusiastically.

  The above-ground swimming pool was still covered—Dad never opened it until the first weekend of June—but some of the family sat in chairs on the pool deck.

  No sign of Ronni. Hayden skirted the pool and the hot tub, which was also still covered, but the kids would no doubt be in it later on. He found Greg watching over Finn’s shoulder at the grill. “You backseat cooking?”

  Finn snorted, slipping a thermometer into a piece of chicken on the grill. “He’s trying to.”

  “Smells great.”

  “Did you have any doubts?” Finn pulled the temperature probe out, set it on the grill’s shelf. “Almost done. Make yourself useful, Greg, and bring me the burgers and dogs. Food should be ready in about twenty more minutes.”

  “Timing is everything,” Hayden said. “Do I know how to call it or what?”

  “What,” Greg said.

  “Hey, either of you seen Ronni? Nick’s here, and I heard through the grapevine she presented Mom with some food, but I haven’t seen her.”

  Greg jerked his head toward the side of the house. “I left her with Amelia and Shannon at the picnic table by the bonfire pit. Figured they’d be the most welcoming to her, give her a chance to ease back into the family. I know it’s not easy for any of us, but the girls in particular, especially Judy, seem hell-bent on continuing to shun her.”

  “Good idea, Greg.” Hayden trotted toward the picnic table, but saw only Shannon, Amelia and the baby. Chip sat in the middle of the table, chewing on a set of plastic keys. He burst into a wide, drooling grin and flung them on the ground when he saw Hayden. The baby held his arms out.

  “Heya, Chipster.” He grabbed the child off the table, tossing him into the air and catching him. The boy shrieked in delight.

  “If he throws up on you, I don’t want to hear it,” Amelia said. “I just finished feeding him a few minutes ago.”

  Hayden threw the boy into the air a few more times, until the child laughed so hard he started to hiccup.

  “You’re making me sick just watching,” Shannon said, grabbing at her stomach.

  This time when Hayden caught him, he growled like a bear, nuzzling the boy’s neck and shoulders. “I’m gonna eat you up, Potato Chip. Num, num, num.” He “flew” the baby back to his mother. “Greg said he left Ronni here with you guys. Where’d she go?”

  “Last I saw her, she was heading into the woods. Toward the tree house, I think.” Amelia pointed with one hand, holding her squirming child with the other.

  “Thanks.”

  The remains of last year’s leaves crunched under his feet as he traversed several hundred yards into the woods. The burble of a brook served as a beacon, though the path, constantly traveled by numerous Hawkins kids and grandkids, was well worn.

  Ten feet off the ground, nestled between two oaks and a maple tree, the family tree house produced its own special magic. A project two summers in the making for Michael Hawkins, Hayden’s dad, tree house didn’t quite do the structure justice. Yes, it was in the trees. Yes, it was a house.

  But it wasn’t a few haphazard boards and a canvas roof....

  Two stories tall, it had a corner turret containing a spiral staircase that rose to the sleeping loft. The metal roof made rainstorms a real experience. It also had a wraparound deck, and a retractable ladder to ensure privacy.

  As he’d expected, the ladder had been drawn up.

  “Ahoy in the tree fort! Who’s up there?”

  When none of the kids responded, he knew he’d found her. “Ronni? The ladder’s up. I know you’re in there.” He circled around to the back of the structure. Standing on the bank of the brook, he looked up at the wide bay window. Sure enough, he could see her silhouette in the corner of the window seat.

  Over the gently rushing water and chirping of birds, he caught the sound of sniffling.

  “Buzz off, Hayden.” Her muffled voice came through the open side window.

  “What are you doing up there?”

  “Having sex.”

  “Alone?”

  “That’s the only kind I’ve had for a long time. So go away.”

  “Can I watch?”

  A snort of choked laughter mingled with a sob. Both sounds tore at him.

  “Come on, Ronni. Lower the ladder.”

  When she didn’t respond, he returned to the front, backed away, then started running. Several feet from the maple tree, he leaped into the air, planting one sneaker on the trunk and pushing off immediately, to hang by his fingers from the edge of the balcony. Swinging his body, he got his leg up on the ledge, moved his hands onto the rails, then pulled himself up, finally climbing over the railing. “Ladders are for wusses, anyway.”

  At the front of the building, he opened the door. Ronni was curled up on the window seat on the far side of the room. “Hey, you’re not having sex.”

  She glanced out at the brook. “There’s just no fooling you, is there?”

  “Nope. Not when it comes to sex.” He passed the handmade game table with its inlaid chess-checkerboard, then dropped opposite her on the seat. Her brown sandals lay on the floor nearby; her bare feet, sporting turquoise toenails, rested on the cushion. She had her arms crossed over her knees, her chin resting on her wrist.

  “You’ve got a Rudolph nose.” And the telltale red-rimmed eyes to go with it.

  She lifted her shoulders.

  “Thinking about Ian?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like...how lucky you are to have such a big family. If Greg is mad at you, you’ve got Finn. Or Derek, or any of the rest of them. If your parents are mad at you, you’ve got all your brothers and sisters.”

  “Being part of a big family isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be.” Sometimes you got lost in the shuffle. Sometimes your parents were way too busy to deal with your pressing concerns and handed you off to an older sibling.

  “Nothing ever is. And yet... My parents put me out years ago, and despite sending them a Christmas card every year at their new home in Arizona, they don’t call, they don’t write. Email. Text. Smoke signals. Something. Anything.”

  The fact that she still tried to contact them surprised him more than her parents’ continued silence. James Davidowski was a hard-core SOB who’d turned his back on his daughter when she’d needed him the most. And his wife, Lisa, had quietly gone along with him.

  “I’m an only child. Babcia’s long gone, Scott’s...long gone, too.” She took a deep breath. “Vera’s my stand-in mom. I’ve got her and Nick. So whatever hardships come with your big family...you’re lucky.”

  “That still doesn’t explain the tears.” He reached out, stroked the top of her foot.

  “Being here today made me realize how much I’d lost. More than just Ian. All of you.”

  Hayden cursed under his breath. Talk about being a hard-core SOB. He and the rest of the family had done the same thing to Ronni that her own parents had.

  Abandoned her when she’d needed them the most.

  Granted, they’d all been in desperate pain themselves over Ian’s loss, but even so...

  They’d made a mistake.

  He’d promised his brother to take care of Nick and Ronni. Instead, he’d fled, joining the Marines as though that could ease the pain of losing his best friend.

  He’d discovered you couldn’t outrun pain.

  Or guilt.

  “I still miss him.”

  He glanced up to meet her eyes, saw the sh
immer there. “Me, too,” he said, his voice gruff, thick.

  “Sometimes I think about how different life would be if he hadn’t gotten sick....”

  “Me, too.” Hayden lifted his hand, stroked the side of her face.

  “He wasn’t supposed to die,” she whispered. Her lower lip quivered. The tears she’d struggled to hold back spilled down her cheeks, flowing over his thumb. “He was supposed to get the bone marrow transplant and be fine, like Jordan.”

  “Aw, hell.” Hayden grasped her forearms, untangled them, pulling her into an embrace. He shifted them both on the cushion, leaning his back against the wall, cradling her against his chest. The scent of citrus rose from her hair. He stroked the silky smooth strands. “I’m sorry, Ronni.”

  “For what?” she murmured into his shirt, burying her face in his shoulder.

  For not telling his family, or the doctor, about Ian’s new symptoms, the pain in his chest and back, the breathing problems. For believing his brother when he’d said he was just upset over losing Ronni.

  Hayden tightened his arms around her, rocking her gently. “For not being there for you when you needed me.”

  “I—I wasn’t there for Ian when he needed me.”

  “No. You weren’t. Guess we both screwed up, huh?”

  She nodded against him.

  “Forgive and forget?” Not that he would ever actually forgive himself. Or forget, either. Nick’s lack of a father to help him transition from boy to man only deepened Hayden’s sense of guilt.

  She nodded again. Her body eased in his embrace, melting into him. He continued to stroke her hair. Having her in his arms felt somehow right. Comfortable.

  For a moment, they just sat there, each wrapped up in their memories of Ian. A silent tribute to the young man they’d both loved.

  Hayden had held her like this in her parents’ driveway, the night she and Ian had told them about her pregnancy. While Ian, hot-tempered, stormed back into her house to confront her father alone, despite Hayden’s urging him not to.

  He’d come back out with an overnight bag. Ronni had spent the next three days sleeping on the sofa in the Hawkins family room while Hayden’s dad negotiated a truce.

  That truce had lasted only until Ronni’s parents realized she’d paid them lip service about having an abortion. At which point she’d gone to live with her grandmother.

  “After Ian, I’ve missed you most of all, Hayden.”

  Not sure what to say to that, he pressed his lips to the top of her head. He was only just beginning to realize that he’d missed her, too.

  “Do you know why we broke up before his death?”

  His muscles tensed. “Yeah. You said you were too scared to watch him die.”

  “That’s a big part of it. But more because he kept telling me what to do after he died. He wouldn’t stop talking about it like it was a done deal. Like his fate was sealed. He’d given up.” Her voice trembled. Hayden tightened his grip on her, offering comfort he should have offered years earlier.

  “‘Love again. Promise me you’ll fall in love again.’” She swallowed hard. “I kept telling him he had to be positive. And he’d say he was positive—positive he wasn’t going to make it, and I had to prepare myself. I finally told him I couldn’t take listening to him like that anymore. That I wasn’t going to stand around and watch him just give up. To call me when he decided that Nick and I were worth fighting for.” Her voice dropped to a choked whisper thick with emotion. “He never called.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “You could have asked. You could have called.”

  “I’m sorry.” He’d been too busy blaming her, blaming himself, to face her after his brother’s death. “Why didn’t you call him?”

  “I did. Once. He told me to stay away. To leave him alone. To start getting on with my life. Then he hung up on me.” She sighed. “Everything I did was wrong.”

  “I know the feeling.” Hayden rested his chin on her head, snuggling her closer.

  And got the jolt of a lifetime when his body reacted, making his snug jeans even tighter.

  Oh, hell, no. This was Ronni. Off-limits on so many levels.

  Trying to appear nonchalant, he eased her backward, breaking contact. Ronni was a pretty woman. His body liked pretty women. Responded to pretty women in close proximity. No reason to freak out. Remove the physical stimulus, lose the response. No problem.

  Ronni shrugged from his embrace, shifting away from him until her back pressed against the opposite wall again. “Why did your mother invite me here today? Why now?”

  “Because you opened the door first by calling me. Asking me for help with Nick.”

  She groaned.

  “You needed help, right?” he pressed.

  Her cheeks colored, and she ducked her head. “I suppose.”

  “Hey.” He waited for her to look at him. “There’s nothing wrong with needing help from time to time. You’ve got a lot going on right now.”

  In the distance, a clanging pierced the tranquility of the tree house. Dinner bell.

  “Chow’s on. What say we go get something to eat?”

  She shook her head. “Not really hungry. You go ahead.”

  “No.” He rose to his feet, then pulled her up, as well. “Taking care of Nick means you have to take care of yourself, too. You need to eat. And more than that...you need to face the family. Hiding out here is not going to mend the fences. Especially not with my mom.”

  The color drained from Ronni’s cheeks. “I—I...”

  “I’ve got your back,” Hayden told her. “I should have had it all along. You’re not in this alone now. Okay?”

  “Oh, hell...”

  He grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

  ###

  True to his word, Hayden stayed at her back. Or her side. They shuffled through the buffet line together, him occasionally slipping foods onto her plate. “Try this. Shannon makes awesome mac and cheese.”

  Unwilling to offend Shannon, who’d made an effort to reach out to her today, Ronni accepted the spoonful of creamy pasta.

  Not that Hayden gave her much of a choice.

  He didn’t give her a choice in their seating, either, guiding her to a spot at the end of a picnic table that included Finn, Greg and their immediate families. Jordan plunked herself down at the table across from Amelia, folding her arms over her chest with a heavy huff. “This is a load of fun. When do I get to eat?” The mask muffled her words, but didn’t hide the teenage attitude Ronni was intimately familiar with.

  “You know the rules, Jordan. If you want to eat, I’ll take a plate somewhere with you, just the two of us,” Amelia said.

  “What about the tree house?” Ronni offered. “We just came from there. There’s nobody else out there. If she can’t take the mask off around a crowd...no crowd there. Make it a private picnic.”

  The girl’s eyes lit up and she clapped. “Oh, yes. Can we, Mom?”

  Amelia looked at Finn, who nodded. “I don’t see why not.”

  Finn climbed from the table, their son in his arms. He placed the baby in Amelia’s lap. “I’ll put the food together so it’s easy to carry. Jordan, come pick out what you want.”

  Jordan jumped from the table and headed for the doors to the basement. Elke, with a plate of food in one hand, baby monitor in the other, paused at the spot Jordan had just vacated. “Is she coming back?”

  “No,” Finn said. “Park it.” As he passed Ronni, he leaned down. “Great idea. Thanks.”

  “I wish I could solve my own teenager problems so easily.”

  He gave her a pat on the shoulder. “They do make life interesting, don’t they?”

  “Understatement of the year. Speaking of which...” She glanced at the nearby tables. “Where’s Nick?”

  “Last time I saw him he was down at the pond, helping Jack and Katie fish,” Greg said. “But nobody’s down there now.”

  “Oh.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, shot him a te
xt asking where he was. “He loves to fish.” She turned to Hayden. “Maybe you can take him one of these nights? Scott used to take him fishing all the time.”

  “I could probably manage that. I’d have to get a license....”

  “Plenty of Scott’s poles are collecting dust in our garage. You can use one of those.”

  The table fell strangely silent, with everyone suddenly interested in the food on their plates, or with full mouths.

  The elephant in the room no one wanted to talk about. So she did. “It’s not like Scott’s going to mind, right?”

  No one answered. Finally, Elke spoke up. “Nick’s told us your husband’s PVS?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long now?”

  “Nineteen months.”

  “That’s really hard. When I did my nursing practicums, I cared for some PVS patients. Rough stuff for the families. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sitting at the bedside of someone you love, waiting for them to die, is very hard.” Lydia’s voice coming from behind her made Ronni jump. She twisted her head to look at Ian’s mother. “We have some experience with that, don’t we?”

  Lydia gazed down at her, face unreadable in the sunlight. “Ronni, when you’re done eating, I’d like a word with you. We’ll use Michael’s office.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE GHOST WAS BACK. The second his mother had left, old Ronni vanished and new-but-definitely-not-improved Ronni returned.

  She’d wilted, withered, right in front of him.

  “Mom’s bark is way worse than her bite,” Hayden assured her, watching Ronni push mac and cheese around on her plate. “Why are you so scared of her?”

  Ronni shrugged. “Oh, maybe because I got knocked up when I was sixteen, then had a hand in her son’s death. And now I’ve managed to screw up her grandson.”

  “Ian’s death was not your fault. We blamed you for part of it because we were all hurting. Watching him, so sick, and so sad over you for the last few weeks of his life... You were an easy scapegoat. A target for our pain. We were wrong to do that.” Hayden said it loudly enough to carry to the whole table, giving Greg and Elke long, pointed stares. Too bad more of his siblings weren’t around to hear him. He’d be repeating himself numerous times. “And Nick’s not screwed up. He made a mistake. We all do.”