Promises Made
Promises Kept?
Jaclyn Rosamond
To my family: David, Naomi, Jonathan, Jessica and Nicole, for being my staunchest supporters through thick and thin.
Promises Made Copyright © 2019 by Jaclyn Rosamond. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by MJ Steffens
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Jaclyn Rosamond
Visit my website at www.jaclynrosamond.co.nz
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: July 2019
Jaclyn Rosamond
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
acknowledgements
Chapter One
How many women wake up feeling ambivalent about their wedding day? I’d been awake now for about half an hour and my stomach was quivering, not excited quivering, either. Anxious and churning more like it. I kept forcing my body to relax, only to find – three seconds later – I’d tensed up again.
Which bride wouldn’t look forward to the big day? For me, lying in my girlhood bedroom, I felt strange. My mind skated around for a better description – edgy.
Now I’d sorted the word, I cast around for a reason. Well, it couldn’t be Eddie, my soon-to-be-husband. He ticked a few boxes in the looks department, tall dark and handsome, with toffee-colored eyes. But that’s not all. He can be funny and serious and easy-going. A few more ticked boxes. A steady job as an accountant might seem dull, and while it didn’t excite him, the income made it easier.
I’d fallen for him quickly and spent the usual angst-ridden length of time hoping he felt the same. He did, and another factor ticked a few boxes: he did his fair share of chores around our cute little house. Unlike his parents. Their marriage model of master and willing servant appealed to neither of us.
If he wasn’t the problem on this momentous day, then the problem had to be me.
What was my problem exactly? Restless, I twisted in the bed, eyeing the ceiling. No clues up there. I glanced around the room, my eyes falling on the dreamy, cream silk and lace sheath I would don later. That in itself was exciting – to slip on the perfect dress and be queen for a day.
Once again, my body tensed. A few deep breaths later, I relaxed. Nope, after a few seconds my shoulders rose up around my neck. Excitement, perhaps? Surely no doubts?
Didn’t every bride have last-minute butterflies? Everyone’s heard of grooms having last-minute doubts.
Was Eddie feeling like this? I thought about calling him for reassurance, I even reached for my phone, but stopped, hand hovering over it. I’d never get past Tony, his best man and best friend, a man taking his role seriously. In the politest of words he’d tell me to get lost.
Did he worry Eddie would have last minute jitters, too?
My mother bustled into my room, interrupting futile introspection.
‘Mum! Can’t you knock?’
‘Pisht.’ She waved a dismissive hand. ‘C’mon, Rose, time to get up or you’ll never be ready on time. C’mon, up, up.’ She whisked around opening curtains. I scrambled out of bed. ‘Look outside, sweetheart, there’s not a cloud in the sky. We have perfect weather for today.’
I joined her at the French door, heaving a relieved sigh. ‘Well, that’s a bonus.’ I stepped out onto the balcony, taking in the hustle and bustle around the garden down below. ‘The flowers look fantastic and the marquee hasn’t fallen down. The sun’s shining. Everything’s as it should be. Isn’t it?’
‘Well, of course it is. Nothing’s wrong down there.’ She frowned at the scene below. ‘Did you sleep? You look a bit peaky? Not having last minute doubts, are you?’ Her eyes narrowed, brow furrowing.
‘Not really, Mum. It’s just...’ I shrugged. Mum’s more like a sister most of the time. Sharing qualms seemed perfectly normal.
‘Sit.’
We both sat on the edge of the bed.
‘Talk to me.’ She took my hand, trapping it between hers.
‘I don’t know. I’m supposed to feel giddy as schoolgirl today and I just feel strange.’
‘You were never a giddy schoolgirl.’ She said, eyes twinkling. ‘You were far too serious for that, always looking out for lame ducks and helping little old ladies across the road.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I never insulted anyone by helping them cross the road. You make me sound like an idiot.’
‘I know.’ A smile tugged at her lips. ‘It’s not a criticism, it’s who you are. Today’s different for you, though, isn’t it? You’ve never liked being the center of attention, always stepped back from the limelight, but today the spotlight’s on you. Is that what’s worrying you?’
‘Maybe,’ I said, letting out a breath I’d been holding. ‘Yes, I think so, or at least that’s part of it.’
‘What else?’ She squeezed my hand. ‘Are you worried about getting married? Is that it?’
‘No,’ I said quickly. Too quickly. ‘No, it’s not that. I think I’m worried about what happens after the honeymoon.’ I bit down on my thought, then said it anyway. ‘I mean, does it get boring? Have you and Dad ever been bored with each other?’
A series of almost indecipherable emotions flitted across her face, the most recognizable being worry.
‘No, Ben and I have never doubted each other, never been bored. It might have been a different story if I hadn’t had a career. That’s why we felt it was so important for you girls to have a solid career base.’
I snorted. ‘Yeah, cos Louisa followed up on that, didn’t she?’
My older sister was a conundrum, she puzzled my whole family.
Mum pressed her lips together, taking a moment to answer. ‘She can always go back to her career when she’s tired of being the perfect wife and mother.’ Her tone was mild, but her face tightened in a frown.
‘Hmm.’ I agreed, face neutral. We exchanged a quick glance, agreeing not to go there.
She searched my face, taking a deep breath. ‘Rose, I’ll say this just once, so hear me out. If you’re having second thoughts, we won’t be angry with you. It’s better to pull out now, before you make a mistake, rather than get married and go through a divorce later on.’
She said this i
n a rush, flushing as she spoke.
‘Oh, Mum, I’m not having second thoughts.’ Although, was I? ‘I’ve just never done this before and I don’t want to make any mistakes. Marriage is for life, not just until we get bored with each other. I don’t want Eddie to get bored with me.’
Eyes widened in disbelief, she said, ‘Eddie get bored with you? I should think the boot’s on the other foot, wouldn’t you?’
I giggled, watching her face fall as she realized what she’d revealed.
‘I know you and Dad find him, um, a bit ordinary.’ My lips twitched as Mum tried to rearrange her face. ‘But we get along really well, we like pretty much the same things and we love each other. Isn’t that enough?’
She patted my hand. ‘Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?’ She rose to her feet, pulling me with her. ‘So, let’s get this show started. You’d better eat before everything gets too busy. C’mon.’
✽ ✽ ✽
Eddie and I knew we’d have to make all sorts of big and little decisions about our big day. We’d promised each other we wouldn't have the wedding from hell. We both knew when it comes to planning the big day some women like the huge, expensive, look-at-me, mother of all wedding days.
That’s not me.
Neither is the quiet registry office with a couple of close friends for support. No, we both wanted something closer to the quiet end of things, but still memorable enough for friends and family to enjoy.
Well, that was the plan, anyway. A couple’s big day never turns out quite the way they hope. And ours was no different.
Eddie wanted an unfussy occasion to remember. He also wanted his parents’ approval. They were neat, buttoned-up Brits, for whom an elaborate, fussy wedding screamed ostentation. They were like a foreign country to me, windows painted shut, their home dark and closed in, housing delicate ornaments, gazillions of photos in ugly frilly silver frames and heavy, ugly furniture. Even their names were old-fashioned, Edna and Bert, and they were overly concerned with their neighbors’ opinions.
Eddie’s surprise birth when Edna was forty-eight, while their two other children were in their twenties, had shocked them, mortified to think his birth broadcast to neighbors that people in their forties still had sex. Now in their late seventies, they had three adult grandchildren and weren’t thrilled at the idea of ankle-biters running around their house once Eddie and I started breeding.
Hearing this, I’d cracked up laughing. My parents, a few months shy of sixty still had romantic getaways, and regular early nights with a bottle of wine in hand as they made their way to their bedroom.
In fact, although I didn’t want to picture them actually having sex, I’d have been incredibly disappointed if they didn’t.
Eddie and I made a solemn promise not to spend too much money on a one-day event, preferring to splash out on a honeymoon.
And my parents’ generous offer to hold the wedding and marquee reception in their parkland estate meant we’d have a beautiful setting, at the same time keeping costs to a minimum. An offer we couldn’t refuse.
Their bounty came with unexpected snags. My parents’ have a wide group of friends and relatives and inviting them to the wedding became obligatory.
We all think it’s our wedding, not our parents, so we shouldn’t have to include anyone we didn’t want to. But somehow it never works out like that. Most of my parents’ friends and their kids have been involved in the life of me and my three siblings, so I was happy to have them there.
But such inclusiveness bewildered Eddie’s mother. Edna and Bert were hunkering down into being elderly and had few friends and none too many relatives.
Looking down her long nose, Edna cuttingly reminding me her “day” had been quiet and “refined”. By “refined” she meant a quiet, affordable church wedding, with only a few friends and family in attendance. Followed by a self-catered meal afterwards.
‘That, my dear, would be unobtrusive and restrained.’ Her tone implied anything else would be vulgar and ostentatious.
Face bland, I’d said, ‘How charming for you. But I’d like to remember our wedding.’
Ignoring her offended expression, and other haughty hints, I moved on and refrained from repeating her suggestions to Eddie. I didn’t fancy a major argument where he’d want to appease his mother and I’d be in the middle of a dispute caused by Edna, who really had no business involving herself at no cost to herself and at my emotional expense.
Besides, a dispute like that might have evolved into all out conflict. And I wouldn’t be getting married at all.
As planning moved ahead, I conceded a couple of times restraint might have been intelligent, because choosing bridesmaids had been a lesson in not stepping on other people’s toes. Who to choose, who not to choose and who would be offended at being left out?
Nightmare.
I’d been a bridesmaid three times and I didn’t want any of those brides as my bridesmaids, especially Louisa, my uptight, sour-tongued sister.
I chose my best friend, Shona.
‘Are you sure?’ she’d asked, breathless with surprise, when I phoned her.
‘Of course I’m sure.’ I heard a sudden clatter, followed by extensive swearing.
‘Have you hit something again?’ Shona had a bad habit of walking into furniture. ‘You need bubble-wrap protection.’
‘Ow, ow, ow! I stubbed my toe on the coffee table. Sorry about the swearing, I’m just so excited you asked me.’
‘You knew I would.’
‘True, but I’m still dead chuffed to be a bridesmaid. Just promise me you won’t be a bridezilla.’
‘What, me? My wedding will be nothing like Kelly’s fiasco?’
My Derbyshire cousin’s wedding had been...difficult; although some problems hadn’t been her fault. I’d been a bridesmaid.
‘Yeah.’ Shona snorted. ‘Hers is the stuff of legends. It’s enough to shudder at, but at the same time hilarious.’
‘Not at the time.’ I said. ‘God, I’ll never forget. Flowers not turning up, dress the wrong size, reception fiasco. Her maid of honor in panic mode, weeping and wailing in a corner, leaving me to sort out the horror show with Kelly’s mum. Her mum and I are still best friends. I’m even thinking of asking her to be a bridesmaid.’
‘What? Kelly or her mum?’
‘Her Mum, you doofus, not Kelly, she’s seven months pregnant. And anyway, she was a right bitch to me until the wedding was over. No, she’s banned from being a bridesmaid, but I’m sure she’ll be offended I don’t ask her.’
There was a loaded silence at the other end of the phone line.
‘Are you seriously going to ask her Mum?’
‘Maybe.’ I teased her. ‘Why, do you think she’s too old?’
Another silence, before I broke into giggles and Shona cursed me for sending her into a panic.
Anyway, Shona agreed to be my maid of honor. And my other good friend, fellow nurse and ex-housemate, Brigid, agreed to be my other bridesmaid. She was much calmer than Shona when I asked her. She’d have been the better choice for maid of honor, with her legendary organizing skills. But Shona would have been upset. See? It might be my wedding, but avoiding stepping on people’s sensitive toes is really hard.
That was sorted, I thought. I had the two bridesmaids I wanted. Then, for some inexplicable reason, Eddie tried to persuade me to ask Lisa, the wife of his best man.
‘C’mon, Rose. Think about it. Tony’s been my friend since high school and you get on well with Lisa.’ His arms circled my waist, trying to convince me.
‘Not as well as Shona and Brigid. Why do you care, anyway?’ I leaned back to see his face, trying to understand.
‘I just think you should ask her.’
Frowning, I gave him a cool stare. ‘You’ve chosen Tony for best man and Andy for groomsman. They’re your choice. I’ve chosen my two best friends, they’re my choice. I wouldn’t insult you by asking you to have Shona’s boyfriend as a groomsman, just to mak
e Shona or Martin feel better. Don't insult my choices, either.’
‘You’re being stubborn.’ He still held me, even as he felt me resist.
‘You noticed,’ I snapped.
‘Why won’t you ask her?’
‘It’s my decision, why are you trying to force the issue?’ I countered, brushing his arms away from my waist.
‘I don’t understand why you’re so set against it.’ His face began a slow burn, turning a blotchy crimson against his fair skin.
‘And I don’t understand why you won’t answer my questions, instead of asking the same question in several different ways.’ I strode to the other side of the room, flinging myself around to face him. ‘So, answer me, why is this such an issue for you?’
‘Tony thinks Lisa’s feelings are hurt that you don’t ask her,’ he said, voice cold, the flush leaving his face, lips thinning to the point of disappearing. In that heated moment he no longer looked attractive.
‘Lisa’s feelings are.... She should join the queue. Half a dozen women are always pissed they’re not asked.’ I spluttered, tripping over my words, too furious to be coherent. ‘What? This is fucking ridiculous, Eddie! Bloody hell, when Lisa got married, I would have been totally gobsmacked if she’d asked me to be a bridesmaid. Why? Because she had her best friends and her sister, that’s why. There was no reason to ask me.’
‘Is that what this is about? A tit for tat? She didn’t ask you, so you won’t ask her?
Tension from months of planning boiled over, I turned on him in a towering temper. ‘No, you moron! It never occurred to me to ask Lisa, just as it never occurred to her to ask me.’ I picked up my car keys. ‘I’ve had enough of this conversation and enough of this fucking wedding. I’m off out. Text me when you’ve stopped trying to run my life.’ I swept out, slamming the lounge door and then the front door on my way out. Driving off in a rage I vented at the top of my voice, inventing new expletives as I drove.
It’s hard to be in high dudgeon when driving sensibly.
Arriving at Brigid’s place, forced to drive with care, I calmed down to almost human. Still, I hammered on her apartment door.
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