Keep This Promise

by Willow Winters

  “He knows …” Mom shakes her head.

  “We don’t know that, but I just … just go.”

  “We’re going … we’re going.” Dad pulls Mom’s arm toward the back door to the garage.

  I walk out front and lower the garage door at the keypad. My lungs and heart refuse to cooperate. It’s hard to breathe as I take slow steps to the porch.

  There he is … sitting on the top step, wearing jeans and a hoodie. His elbows rest on his knees, hands folded in front of him. He has a thicker layer of stubble along his face, approaching the perfect length for a neatly trimmed beard. He’s … hot.

  Yup, even now, in the dark, when he belongs to another woman, he’s still a sight to behold.

  “You should have messaged me. I wasn’t expecting you. We went for a late dinner, since I don’t get off work until eight. Mexican … chips and guacamole. It was really good.”

  Eli runs a hand through his hair, dipping his chin and scratching the back of his head. “I know what time you get off work. But I didn’t want to discuss our baby via text.”

  Gulp …

  “She told you,” I whisper.

  “The question is, why didn’t you?” He sounds a little hurt or angry. Or maybe just tired. I really can’t tell because it’s dark, and I’m cold, and my pounding pulse makes it hard to hear well.

  “I literally took the test this morning.” I start pacing again. “I stuck it in my pocket. Then it dropped out of my pocket when I went to grab my phone. She was there. She took it and made me follow her to her office to talk about it. I didn’t dream she would tell you today. I thought she’d have the decency to give me at least twenty-four fucking hours to digest the fact that my life is going to change forever!”

  Eli stands, taking the three steps to meet me. “Why are you yelling?” He grabs my shoulders to stop my pacing.

  Wow … I thought … I really thought I had this. I thought I worked this out in my head, very factually, very analytically. Yet, here I am breaking down. Here come the tears like rain that wasn’t in the forecast.

  “Because I’m pregnant. And I really wanted to give you the life you wanted—the life you deserve. And I know it took two to make this baby, but I should have never let it happen. It’s just that I really wanted to be with you one last time. And now everything is ruined, and I’m trying really hard to pretend that it’s not. But if Dr. Hathaway leaves you again because of this, I’ll feel bad for like … ever.” I cover my face with my hands and hold in the sobs, but they shake my body anyway.

  Eli wraps me in his arms. “Oh my god, Dorothy … you’re not even close to hitting the truth about what this means.” He presses his lips to the top of my head.

  I wipe my face, sniffling as I look up at him. The moonlight illuminates his face, and right now I want to be selfish, but I can’t. I won’t. “You just got your family back. Don’t let this ruin that. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

  He rubs my cheeks with his thumbs, drying my tears and pushing away the hairs stuck to my cheeks. “Define stupid.” A grin pulls at his lips.

  “Stupid is thinking that I can’t do this by myself. I can. And my parents are here. This baby will be loved and well cared for. Stupid is thinking I need you more than they do.”

  “Dorothy Mayhem, stupid is thinking that I don’t need you. Stupid is thinking this baby is anything short of the best damn miracle I’ve experienced since Julie told me she was pregnant with Roman. Stupid is thinking I’m letting you make any more decisions for me.” Eli’s grip on my face intensifies as he leans down to force me to look him in the eye.

  “The only thing that’s been ruined is me. You ruined me the day you walked into my life, wearing those outrageous red Nikes. You ruined me for Julie and all other women. I’m the expensive vase you broke while shopping. I’m no good for anybody. I’m yours. You are stuck with me. So pick up the fucking pieces and deal with it because I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But Roman—”

  He releases me. “No! No! No! No!” Brushing past me he walks a good twenty feet down my driveway, pulling at his hair. “Roman is perfect!” he yells … as if he’s trying to wake up everyone in a five-mile radius. “He’s happy. He’s loved. He’s well-adjusted. AND HE ADORES DORFEE MAYHEM!” Eli cups his hands around his mouth and tips his head back like an animal howling at the moon. “EVERYBODY LOVES DORFEE MAYHEM BECAUSE SHE’S THE VERY BEST HUMAN THAT EVER EXISTED! AND SHE’S HAVING MY BABY! I. AM. THE. LUCKIEST. MAN. ALIVE!”

  Dropping his hands from his face, he marches back toward me. I can’t even begin to explain how completely embarrassed I am right now.

  “I choose you, Dorothy. I chose you then, even when you didn’t choose me. I choose you now. I’ll choose you tomorrow. But for the love of god, woman …” He drops to his knees at my feet, literally resting his forehead on my tennis shoes, hands gripping my calves. “Would you please choose me? Would you let your own happiness matter for once?”

  “Sweetie?” Mom calls out the door behind me. She sounds a bit worried. I can’t imagine why that would be. “Is everything good?”

  Wiping the last few tears from my face, I curl my hair behind my ears and squat down, running my fingers though Eli’s hair as he breathes heavily with his forehead still resting on my shoes. “Yeah, everything is … okay.”

  Eli mumbles something, but I can’t make it out. He lifts his head slowly. “Say it again.”

  I let my smile show, but just a little.

  He sits back onto his butt, evidently not caring that he’s sitting in a mix of dirt and grass, but mostly dirt. Then he grabs my waist and pulls me to him, so my legs straddle his legs, so my nose nearly touches his nose. “Say it again.”

  “Everything is okay.” My smile crawls a bit farther up my face.

  “Again …” he grins.

  I press my palms to his very stubbly face and brush my lips across his lips. “Okay … everything is okay.”

  “Because you love me.”

  I kiss his top lip. “Because I love you.”

  “Because you choose me.”

  I kiss his bottom lip. “Because I choose you.”

  “And we’re having a baby.”

  I nod, kissing his nose, his cheeks, his forehead. “And we’re having a baby.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Letting go

  Elijah

  “Oh … my god!”

  Grimacing, I crack open one eye. My back hurts. I’m on my stomach. Rarely do I sleep on my stomach. Must be why my back hurts. A pillow lands on my ass—my bare ass.

  Kellie stares at me, wide-eyed, with her hand over her mouth. And she starts to mumble behind that hand. “I was going to do a load of laundry for Dorothy. And I thought I’d wash the blanket that was tossed onto her bed, but I had no idea you were under the blanket. Oh my god … why would she completely cover up a naked, sleeping man and then just go to work without saying anything?”

  “Um …” I squint, opening my other eye and rolling onto my back, keeping the pillow over my midsection. “We’re talking about Dorothy … clearly your guess is as good as mine.”

  We were zipped into her bed. And then we started doing certain activities that required more freedom to move about the bed … and the floor. Yeah, I’m pretty sure we were on the floor at some point. My mind is a little fuzzy because I don’t think I got more than two hours of sleep. I have no clue when Dorothy even got up or how she’s functioning on so little sleep.

  “Thank you for loving my baby girl.” She hugs a wad of dirty clothes to her chest.

  I rub my eyes before lacing my fingers behind my head, meeting Kellie’s huge grin and bright eyes. Julie’s mom never thanked me for loving her daughter.

  I return the smile. “It’s truly a pleasure. And I …” I cringe, feeling eighteen instead of thirty-eight. Maybe my naked body only covered by a pillow is what has me feeling a bit insecure. “I apologize for not being more responsible with your daughter. But I love her.
And I’m going to take care of her and raise this baby with her. I have only the best intentions where Dorothy is concerned.”

  “I appreciate that. So much.” She sits on the side of the bed.

  Okay … we’re going to chat now, with me naked in Dorothy’s bed. Nope … nothing awkward at all about this. I scoot over an inch or two, keeping a firm hold on the pillow.

  “A few years back, before her uncle died and left her all his money…” Kellie lets out a slow breath, looking out the slats of the window blinds “…I went shopping with Dorothy right around the time school was getting ready to start. We each grabbed a cart. I went in one way. She went the other way. We met back up a few minutes later. I had like four things in my cart. Dorothy’s cart was full. Now … things you’ll find out about Dorothy, if you haven’t already: She has backups of everything—shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste … you name it. And not just one extra. I’m talking three or four extra tubes of toothpaste. So before I actually focused on the contents of her cart, I assumed she simply was having a moment. A little anxiety that required the comfort of backups.

  “Nope … I was wrong. Here’s the thing, we spend so much of our lives as parents trying to make sure our kids are good humans. Then one day, without you really noticing, it happens. Dorothy’s cart was full, but the stuff was not for her. Upon explanation, she told me there was a donation box in front of a children’s house she passed every day on her way to work. It had been over a week and no one had donated. She’s done some summer workshops with these kids … the abused and neglected kids. And she said they had less than nothing, and nobody was helping them, not at all. Then she said she knew what she was doing wouldn’t really make a difference, but she at least wanted to try. One minute I was worried that she was having an off day, preparing to interrogate her about taking her medications faithfully. The next minute, I’m standing in a store with tears rolling down my face.”

  She shrugs. “I’m happy to say that I have raised a good human who’s now adulting better than me.”

  Yeah, I need a lifetime with Dorothy Mayhem. And I can’t believe how close I came to letting her slip away from me.

  “Anyway, I just want you to know that some days will be sheer madness. I mean … god knows I love that girl, but she is clumsy and loud. Talks through movies, constantly being told to shush. And she’s a hypochondriac. Always dying of something. She won’t eat the last slice of bread, the last bit of peanut butter in a jar, the last cookie in a box. Nope. She’ll just get out a new one. And the birds …” Kellie laughs. “I asked her once if she wanted to put some seed out for the momma bird who had babies in a nest. Dorothy didn’t even think, she just said, ‘No. I believe in Darwin.’”

  I chuckle. Does Kellie know that all of Dorothy’s quirks that may drive her parents crazy make me love her just that much more?

  “But then … she fills a box for kids who have less than nothing.”

  But then that …

  Dorothy … Dorothy … Dorothy …

  “You did a great job raising her. She’s perfect.” I grin.

  Kellie stands, twisting her mouth to hide her pride. “She’s … adequate.” She winks and slips out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

  My mom messages me a picture of Roman eating pancakes with a “Hope you and Julie are enjoying your alone time.”

  This means Julie didn’t get Roman last night. So I drive to her house. After ringing the doorbell twice, she answers the door in a robe. Puffy eyes and a forced smile.

  I step inside. “Jules …” I hug her to me.

  She grips my shirt and silently sobs for a few minutes. There’s not much to say. She knows.

  This hurts.

  Everything we had has changed, and it just doesn’t fit right anymore.

  “I’m t-too late.” She pulls back and wipes her face.

  I nod slowly. Just once. “It’s not because of the baby. I don’t want you to ever think I’m choosing this child I’m having with Dorothy over our child.”

  Julie turns, her breath shaky on a slow inhale as she walks toward the front window to her spacious great room. “I know, Eli.”

  “I want us to be okay, Jules. Maybe not today. Maybe not for some time, but I want us to give Roman the best of us apart and together. I don’t want him to ever see me do anything but love you. Because I do … I love you with a part of myself that will always belong only to you.”

  She turns, blinking more silent tears that she quickly wipes from her face as she shrugs. “So that’s what we do … we give him everything. Me. You. Us. And the woman who idolizes me.”

  “Jesus, Jules …” I shake my head and allow myself to return the same tiny grin she has on her own face. “Are you going to lord this over me forever?”

  She laughs. It’s still partially a sob, but I can tell she’s trying so hard to make this right. “Yes. You’ll get her love, but I’ll get her respect.”

  My eyebrows shoot up my forehead. “You think she doesn’t respect me?”

  “Well …” Julie straightens her robe like she would straighten her lab coat, shoulders back, chin up. “I’m sure there’s some respect there, but I don’t think she could ever think of you as a boss bitch.”

  I have a million comebacks, starting with the fact that I’m pretty sure men can’t be boss bitches. But I don’t give her anything more than my silence and an easy nod. She’s hurting. I know this because I recognize the false confidence. I’ve lived it for the past year. Letting go of your first love is pretty fucking painful. And as much as people might think she let go of me last year, she didn’t. Not really.

  This. This is her truly letting go.

  This is me … letting go.

  “Eli …” As more tears fill her eyes, I fight my own emotions, and she sees it. This time she hugs me.

  This time she comforts me.

  We hold each other for so long, I’m not sure what time of day it is. It’s a silent goodbye. It’s painful. It’s exactly what it should be because we’ve been each other’s world—each other’s everything—for so long. I spent a lifetime with this woman.

  Now, I kiss her on the cheek one last time as I release her, turn, and walk out the door to spend a lifetime with Dorothy Mayhem.

  Epilogue

  New Neighbors

  Seven (ish) months later …

  * * *

  “I’m a whale. A whale in a gown. A whale with a hat. How do you like that?”

  “Are you ghost writing for Dr. Seuss?” I ask Dorothy, the mother of my child—a girl we were told. My superhero. My exercise buddy. My almost everything … except Roman. Oh … and she’s not my wife.

  Nope.

  No marriage for Dorothy Mayhem.

  Just as well. It would be a crime to change that awesome name of hers.

  I adjust her graduation cap before kissing her coconut-flavored lips while holding Violet Riley Mayhem Hawkins in my hands as she kicks inside her mom’s belly.

  Yes, I’m getting ready to live a life of Riley and mayhem.

  “Does this gown make me look fat?” Dorothy continues, frowning.

  “Nurse Mayhem, I’ve had about enough of you insulting the woman I love. Can you give it a break? Put a smile on your face. And go plant your sexy booty in that chair to get your diploma.”

  “Think you’ll actually stick with this one?” Her dad smirks, referring to her many degrees.

  Dorothy shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m kind of getting sick of the hospital scene.”

  I laugh to lighten the mood. Her parents? They don’t laugh because they know she’s not joking. I know it too, but this woman has my baby inside of her. I don’t give a shit whether or not she gets an actual job as a nurse.

  My Dorothy wanders through life. And as long as she always makes it back to me, I don’t care if she spends an eternity in college, getting twenty different degrees, or pushing patients around a hospital, or gleaning every night of the week.

  “Dorothy … I will clap for you
.” Roman hugs her legs, and she bends down to hug him back. My son loves her, maybe more than me. She’s worthy of that kind of love. She’s just … fucking perfection.

  “Thanks, Romeo.”

  “Kisses for Violet.” He presses his hands to her belly and kisses his baby sister.

  “I’m going to cry …” Kellie wipes her eyes.

  “Please don’t, Mom. I’m puffy everywhere else. Can you not make me cry with your sappiness?”

  “It’s happiness, not sappiness.” Kellie rolls her eyes at Dorothy. “We’re going to take Roman to find seats. I love you.” She hugs her daughter.

  Dorothy makes her usual awkward attempt to hug her mom back, but Violet has complicated things. As if that’s even possible with a Dorothy Mayhem hug.

  “Come on, Dorothy,” one of her classmates calls, passing Dorothy to get seated in the auditorium.

  “You good?”

  She grins at me. “I’m okay.”

  I glance at my watch. “I’m going to watch from here so I can close my standing ring before you.”

  “Jerk.” She frowns, pivoting to head into the auditorium.

  I grab her gown, giving it a tug to stop her. Then I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder, my hands over hers on her belly. “Dorothy Mayhem,” I whisper, “I am so proud of you. You are the universe. Unequivocally the kindest human I have ever known. Thank you for choosing me. This lifetime … with me. I love you.”

  Her head tips back against mine. “I think I love you too.”

  “Okay.” I kiss her cheek one last time before letting her go.

  Three days later, I take my Dorothy to the hospital at three in the morning, when her contractions get too close for comfort.

  Only … we don’t make it there.