Keep This Promise

by Willow Winters

  “Hi.”

  “It’s very kind of you to bring all of us lunch. What do I owe you?”

  I follow her inside, slipping off my tennis shoes. “Nothing. Really. It’s fine. I can afford it.”

  She questions me with a look that I ignore as I set the sacks on the counter and slip off my jacket. “What can I get you to drink, Dorothy?”

  “Water is great, thank you.”

  She pulls all of the food out of the sacks and sets each wrapped sandwich on a plate. “Yours must be the egg salad.”

  “Yes.”

  “If you want to set the plates on the table, I’ll go help Eli get to his chair.”

  “Oh … yeah. Or I can help him. I’m a lot stronger than I look,” I say.

  “Just grab the plates.”

  Okay then …

  I move the plates to the table, where she has a bowl of cut up vegetables and a bowl of grapes. I consider my feelings about eating food prepared by Boss Bitch. Since I’m on the fence, I decide to stick to my sandwich and cookie.

  “Hey …”

  I turn toward Eli’s voice as Dr. Hathaway helps him to the kitchen table.

  “Hey! How are you feeling?” I ask.

  “Good.”

  “Weak,” Dr. Hathaway corrects him with side-eye.

  “Good and weak.” He eases onto the chair, and she props up his cast on a stool.

  “You don’t have to eat at the table,” I say, taking a seat next to him.

  “I do. Otherwise, Roman would think all meals for eternity can be eaten in the living room. Julie sneaked me breakfast on the sofa before Roman woke up.”

  “Roman, come eat!” Dr. Hathaway calls.

  He runs into the kitchen.

  “Bib, wild man.” Dr. Hathaway puts on his bib. “Where are you going?”

  He runs to the other side of the kitchen and pulls out another bib. “Dorfee, here’s your bib.”

  “Buddy, no …” Dr. Hathaway and Eli disapprove in unison.

  “Fantastic. I was wondering where you put my bib.” I take the bib and tie it around my neck.

  Eli and Dr. Hathaway look at each other and then at me. I return a satisfied shrug and unwrap my sandwich.

  “Mmm … this is a really good sandwich.” Dr. Hathaway rolls her eyes like eating gives her an orgasm. “Reminds me of the sandwiches we had at the little hole-in-the-wall place just down from our hotel when we went to London right before I got pregnant. Remember?”

  “Oh yeah.” Eli nods. “Best sandwich ever. This comes close though. Good find, Dorothy.” He winks at me.

  “You ever been to London, Dorothy?” Dr. Hathaway asks.

  “No. I’m pretty much a homebody.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. There’s so much to see in the world.” She wipes her mouth and takes a sip of water.

  I finish chewing my food … thinking of an appropriate response.

  “When I get better, we should go somewhere. What do you think?” Eli asks.

  “Me too! I go somewhere wif Dorfee.”

  Dr. Hathaway clears her throat. “You’d stay with me, wild man. We’ll go someplace together. Maybe back to Disney World.”

  “If it’s my week with him, he could come with us,” Eli informs Dr. Hathaway.

  “I suppose. But I don’t want you taking him to London. I want to be with him the first time he sees London.”

  “Well, what if I want to be with him the first time he sees London?” Eli gives his rebuttal.

  Me? Oh, I just keep eating. In fact, I can’t eat fast enough.

  “I don’t think you honestly care. I just think you’re acting like you do because you know how much it means to me.” Dr. Hathaway wipes her mouth.

  “Yes, you and your need to experience all of his ‘firsts.’ Did you ever think I wanted to be with him for his first visit to Texas? Doesn’t seem fair given the fact that you made the decision to have him half the time. That means you should be fine with half, the way you make me have to be fine with half. And maybe his first time in London won’t be part of your half.”

  “Eli—” Dr. Hathaway narrows her eyes.

  “Maybe …” I interrupt before fully swallowing. “You could take him to London together.”

  I focus on the now. How to get out of an uncomfortable situation now. Not later when the three of them are on their way to London and I’m at home, being Dorothy homebody and feeling like I had a hand in putting their family back together.

  Nope. I favor the now.

  Just stop arguing in front of Roman now.

  “Oh my gosh … we should, Eli. We should take him together!” Dr. Hathaway beams.

  Eli … not so much. A piece of lettuce hangs out of his mouth, mid chew.

  Someone should high-five emoji me. Problem solved.

  Eli finishes chewing his bite and shifts his attention to me. “You think I should go with Roman and Julie to London? Just the three of us?”

  “Sure.” I move my gaze to the cookie on my plate. It’s half gone already. “You both seem to like it. And I hear they have great sandwiches there.” I glance up.

  Seriously?!

  No one laughs. I perfectly timed that joke. How could they miss it?

  Eli grunts and returns to eating his sandwich.

  “You really wouldn’t mind?” Dr. Hathaway asks me, with big eyes and a tiny grin.

  “Why would I mind?”

  “No reason.” She shakes her head.

  Roman steals the conversation with why he wants to be a honey badger, and that gobbles up the rest of lunchtime.

  “Why don’t you take Roman outside to play for a bit?” Eli asks Dr. Hathaway.

  She looks at Eli and then at me as she finishes wiping Roman’s face and hands. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “I can take him out to play for a bit. I have about thirty minutes before I have to head back.”

  “No.” Eli pushes his plate away from the edge of the table. “Julie will do it.” If his face were an emoji at the moment, it wouldn’t be a favorite of mine. I prefer happier emojis.

  Dr. Hathaway and Roman go outside while I sit at the kitchen table under Eli’s bad emoji gaze.

  “I don’t want to go to London with Julie and Roman. I want to go with you and Roman.”

  “Okay. But I don’t care as much about seeing London as Julie—Dr. Hathaway—does. And she’s Roman’s mom, so it makes sense that she should see London with him instead of me.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I want you to care. I want you to care enough to not go on dates with Dr. Warren. I want you to care that my ex-wife has moved in with me for the next couple of months. I want you to care that I’m officially dependent on her for my basic needs. I want you to care that she pulls down my pants to get my cock out so I can take a piss!”

  I curl my hair behind my ears. “I didn’t know she did that for you.”

  “Well…” he coughed a laugh “…now you do. So do you care?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well you have a terrible way of showing it.”

  “Different,” I whisper.

  “What?” he asks in a clipped tone.

  “Nothing,” I murmur while looking at my watch. “I uh … should go.”

  “Five minutes ago you said you had thirty minutes, but now you need to go?”

  “I don’t know why you’re so angry. I’m sorry. What did I do?”

  “Tell me what you said.”

  “About what?”

  “I said you have a terrible way of showing that you care. And you said something after that. What did you say?”

  “I said different. I have a different way of showing that I care. Not a terrible way. Just because I don’t act like you or every other neurotypical person out there, doesn’t mean that my actions are wrong or terrible. It just means they are different. Can I go now?”

  “Dorothy … I need to know where your head is on this. Where your heart is on this. Because I get this feeling that Julie is having regrets about us. Regret
s about leaving me. And while at first I thought it was just shock from the accident, I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “Regrets? As in she wishes she wouldn’t have divorced you?”

  Eli shrugs. A few seconds later he nods.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay? Really, that’s your response?”

  “Eli … I …” I close my eyes, but it doesn’t stop the pain in my head. “I’m going to play the Aspie card here. I didn’t know what that meant five years ago, but I get it now. It’s when I feel like everyone is waiting for me to get or see something that’s so obvious, but I don’t see it. And it’s not because I’m not smart. I know I’m a smart person. I have the grades to prove it. It’s that I’ve missed a cue or failed to make an important connection, and everything after that point is … well, pointless. So if you’re ‘beating around the bush,’ then you need to stop. You need to be very specific and very direct.”

  He studies me under his scrutinizing gaze for several seconds. “Fine. Literally until the moment I stepped onto that elevator with you, I’ve wanted my life back. I’ve wanted Julie to wake up and realize what a terrible mistake she made. And maybe that makes me pathetic, but I don’t care. I don’t regret loving someone so deeply. I don’t regret having a child with her. And I don’t regret thinking that fifteen years of marriage and a child is worth fighting for until you know without a doubt that there’s absolutely no hope.”

  “More direct.” I glance at my watch.

  He sighs. “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “And I choose you.”

  “Okay.”

  He grimaces. “But if six months from now, you don’t feel like I’m the one for you anymore, I’m going to look back and wonder if I blew my last chance to have my family together again.”

  “Is there a question? If so, you should ask it now.”

  “Am I it for you? Could you see yourself with me twenty … thirty years from now?”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “We’ve known each other for less than two months, and you’re asking me about twenty-thirty years from now? I’ve changed professions three times in eight years, but after six … seven weeks of knowing you, I’m supposed to make a twenty … thirty-year projection?”

  “No,” he whispers, staring blankly at the middle of the table.

  “That’s a relief. I’m going back to school. I have a test this afternoon. And now I have a headache, so I’m going to go take something for it so I can focus on my exam.”

  “I’m sorry.” His gaze lifts to meet mine. “Your headache is my fault.”

  “Probably.” I shrug. “It’s fine. Nothing a couple of ibuprofen won’t handle. Need help back to the sofa? Or do you want Dr. Hathaway to help you?”

  “I just need you to come here.” He holds out his hand.

  I rest my hand in his.

  “Come here.” He tugs my hand.

  I unfold from my chair and take the two steps to stand next to his chair.

  He releases my hand, reaches up to fist the top of my shirt, and pulls me to his mouth. It’s a slow kiss, but I tell myself I can spare an extra minute or two for a slow kiss.

  “Uh-hem …”

  I pull away and rub my lips together while embarrassment crawls up my neck.

  Dr. Hathaway stands in the doorway, holding a plant in one hand while covering Roman’s eyes with her other hand. “Delivery. From one of your patients.”

  “Mommy, move your hand!” Roman pushes her away.

  “So …” I work my way toward the nearest exit. “I have to go. Bye.”

  “Bye, Dorfee!” Roman is the only one to tell me goodbye.

  Eli and Dr. Hathaway are too busy having a stare-off.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It’s Still You

  Elijah

  “Roman, nap time,” Julie says while glaring at me.

  “I don’t want a nap!”

  “Then go have some quiet time with your toys in your room, otherwise … it’s nap time.”

  “I go to my room.” He pouts, dragging his feet up the stairs.

  She knows he’ll go to his room and play if nap is the alternative.

  “Really, Elijah? In front of our son?”

  I wet my lips, still tasting Dorothy on them. “I thought you were outside.”

  “Well, we weren’t. And if you’re not ready to explain to Roman why you’re kissing Dorothy, then I suggest you not kiss her if there’s even a remote chance he could catch you.”

  Julie definitely wouldn’t want to know that I went down on Dorothy in her bedroom while Roman played Xbox within hearing distance of Dorothy’s moans—things that wouldn’t get me nominated for Father of the Year.

  “Understood. Maybe this weekend you can take Roman to your house Friday and Saturday night, and I’ll get someone else to stay with me.”

  “And by someone else, you mean Dorothy?”

  “I mean my mom and dad can come over during the day.”

  “And at night?”

  I shrug.

  “You’d rather make out with your new girlfriend than have your son here?”

  “Oh, Jules … you do not want to go there with me.”

  “Go where?”

  She is here.

  At my house.

  Helping me do things like take a piss and brush my teeth.

  I could slay her with a brutal dose of reality. But I don’t. For once, possibly the first time since she left me, I take the high road.

  “Could you please help me to the sofa? I’m a little exhausted from … everything.”

  “Yeah,” she says. Her expression falls into one of resignation.

  After she helps me get situated on the sofa, she checks on Roman.

  “He fell asleep on the floor.” She grins, coming down the stairs. “Like literally in the middle of his Legos. So I covered him with a blanket. I knew if I tried to move him into bed, he’d wake up.” Julie picks up the dishes from lunch and brings me my medications with a glass of water.

  “She calls you Boss Bitch.”

  Julie pauses for a second. After a few blinks, she hands me my pills. “Who?”

  “Dorothy. I’m pretty sure it’s a good thing.”

  “Mmm …” She nods. “Usually.”

  “You’re smirking. You know it’s good. You know it’s a compliment.”

  “It’s … a nice compliment. Yeah.”

  “She knows your stats. Listened to you give talks. She pretty much idolizes you as a doctor. How does that feel?”

  “How does it feel to know your girlfriend looks up to me—at least professionally?” She sits on the sofa, angling her body to face me. “It feels good. And a little weird.”

  “Does it make it harder for you to dislike her?”

  “I don’t dislike her.”

  “You dislike her with me.”

  Julie presses her lips together and flips her long, red hair over her shoulder. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to say it. I can see it. Why? Is it Dorothy in particular, or would it matter who kissed me?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispers, averting her gaze. “I don’t know about anything anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The definition of Hell: Having everything you should ever want and still wanting more.” She runs her fingers through her hair, drawing in a shaky breath then blowing it out slowly as emotion turns red in her eyes. “I wasn’t happy and I didn’t know why.” She quickly wipes away a tear. “We had a baby. A baby, Eli. And it wasn’t enough. Wh…” she clears thick anguish from her throat “…what kind of person throws away everything because it’s not enough? I actually had tests done—hormone tests, brain scans—I honestly thought something was physically wrong with me to feel so incredibly dissatisfied. So … angry.”

  Still, after all the pain and anger, I still break inside watching Julie grasp for that invisible thing that tortures her.

  “Everything irritated me. I co
nstantly felt on the verge of either starting a fight or having a complete breakdown. And you were the recipient of all of it. Even when you didn’t realize it. For two years before we separated, I resented the way you combed your hair, the way you laughed, the childish voice you used when talking to Roman, the scent of your cologne, the rhythm of your words, that stupid pause you take before answering a question, like your mind is always on a two-second delay, the way you slurp your smoothies and stir your coffee, just … every damn thing about you drove me to the verge of insanity. And without one single shred of reason.”

  I think regaining my memories from falling into the ravine would hurt less than her words. And yet, I know she isn’t saying them to hurt me. Still … they rip open old wounds, ones that can’t be repaired by the expert hands of surgeons. I hold onto my words and mask my reaction.

  “I hated myself. I just … hated myself for hating you. I hated myself for wanting out. I felt like the worst mother, the worst wife and daughter, the worst friend … I felt like the worst h-human.” Her words fall apart. “And I just needed out, but I didn’t know how to tell you that. You were perfect. And I wanted nothing to do with you. What does that say about me? There were times I actually hoped you’d cheat on me so I could have an out. But not Elijah … nope. You would never do that. And even that irritated me. Who thinks that? What sane human being hopes their spouse will cheat on them?”

  I don’t know. Maybe that means I’m sane. But I refuse to make that wager. After all … I’ve done some mildly insane things with Dorothy in the past few weeks.

  “So I pulled the plug on our marriage. And I changed everything I hated about myself on the outside, but it didn’t change how I felt on the inside. I signed up for classes like pole fitness, and I tried speed dating. Then I went through three different psychiatrists, tried healing touch and meditation. When that didn’t work, I downloaded an app for hooking up and I fucked ten strangers in less than two weeks.”

  I flinch. Even with the rumors, it still knocks the air from my lungs hearing her confess everything to me. I much prefer the I-was-a-butterfly-you-were-my-cocoon analogy.

  “Still …” Her blank, glassy-eyed gaze remains affixed to the window or maybe the wall. I can’t tell. “I didn’t feel better. I just simply felt alone. But alone felt numbing. And that lack of feeling was better than hating myself. And then one day, I met Nick at a yoga class. I didn’t care for the class, but I liked his smile and the way he looked at me when he didn’t know I was watching him.”