Promises to Keep

by Chaffin, Char

  Yet another reason to hold no respect and even less love, for his mother—and also to suffer guilt for the lack.

  He’d just come through a hellish semester, with many of his toughest classes scheduled together, enough to frazzle his brain and exhaust his patience. Within his heart, there formed a hard kernel of resentment for the way his wants had little or no bearing any longer.

  Whenever he returned to the Hall, Dad didn’t know he was even there. His father sat in a chair by the window for a few hours daily, staring down at his hands. At night, he lay on his back in a bed with guardrails on each side. It broke Travis’s heart each time he came home, another pressure and worry that added itself to everything else he dealt with.

  Afterwards, he’d escape to campus with a sigh of relief, even though he dreaded the return plunge into his academic workload. Once eager to study at a fiendish pace and thus graduate early, he now wished for the semesters to slow way down. Because that way he could put off, a while longer, the inevitable: being pressured to slap a ring on Catherine’s finger.

  And, damn it, the absence of Annie in his life was a never-ending ache.

  Chapter 19

  Sunlight poured from the kitchen window and warmed Annie’s face as she looked out over the back yard. Mama’s garden showed new growth, early seedlings breaking through the soil, their tender leaves reaching toward the sun. She could relate. For it seemed the past few years, she’d been doing the same. Growing. Reaching.

  She refilled her coffee cup and brought it to the table, adding a generous dollop of cream and three heaping spoons of sugar to the rich brew. The milky, sweet concoction settled on her tongue, and she hummed in appreciation as she sipped.

  “Yuck.” Susan voiced her opinion of Annie’s chosen morning beverage and reached for her can of Coke. “How can you drink that nasty stuff at the crack of dawn?”

  Annie made a face at her. “It’s almost ten. I had to drag you out of bed by your toes, and you’ve been complaining ever since. And you’ve got room to talk. Who drinks warm soda pop for breakfast, anyhow?”

  “Diet soda pop. I’m trying to lose five pounds.”

  “Why, for heaven’s sake?” Annie gave her a disbelieving once over. “You’re gorgeous, Susan.”

  “You’d say that no matter what ‘cause you’re my sister and you have to love me.”

  “Oh, brother.” Annie grabbed for Susan’s long ponytail and yanked it, then drained her cup and carried it to the sink. “Are you going with us or not?”

  Susan pretended to consider. “Let me think. Going back to sleep or mucking around town. Which, I might remind you, we have done to death already, all our lives. Gee, I wonder which one I’ll choose?”

  “You always were a lazy bum.” Annie dried her hands on a dishtowel. “I have to rescue Mama from Hank. Meet us for lunch, later.”

  “Maybe. You got your phone? I’ll call you, let you know.”

  “I don’t have any numbers loaded in.”

  “Well, criminy, give it to me. What’s the point of having a phone if you don’t use it? I’ll bet you’ve never called anyone, have you? And you’ve only had it, what? Six months?” With an exasperated snort, Susan snatched the cell phone from Annie’s hand and started punching buttons.

  Annie mumbled, “Five and a half months. You know I hate talking into those silly things, Suze. I don’t see why I have to have one.”

  “Don’t call me Suze.” She said it absently, as she finished programming phone numbers. “And you have to have one because they’re essential for emergencies, not to mention when your sister needs to get hold of you in a hurry.” She handed it back to Annie, who rudely stuck out her tongue. Identical grins split their faces, and they both chuckled.

  “Don’t go back to bed, okay? Come to lunch with us,” Annie cajoled.

  “I’ll think about it.” Susan opened the cupboard and grabbed another diet soda pop as Annie laughed and headed up to the narrow bedroom she’d shared with her sister, years ago.

  It hadn’t changed very much. She rooted in the crowded closet for a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved blouse, unsure if the clothes were hers or Susan’s. She looked around as she laid the outfit on the bed and added a fresh set of underwear. The same unevenly hemmed lace curtains hung at the window that Mama had shown her and Susan how to sew. The same old dressers they’d painted pale pink when they were kids sat, one in each corner. Mama found the antique floor mirror at a flea market for a dollar and figured out how to re-silver it so the reflection wasn’t all spotty. It still stood near the door.

  Annie loved this room. When she was a little girl, she’d often felt trapped in it. Now the memories that bounced off the walls and ceiling made her feel good.

  “Ma-ma!” The sweet baby voice and the stomping feet, toddling down the hallway from the bathroom, also made her feel very good, as she stepped outside the door and caught the chubby body of her son in her arms. She swung him up and buried her nose in his neck, causing him to shriek in glee.

  “He got away from me, slippery little dickens.” Her mama came down the hallway after him, a rumpled sleeper in one hand and a damp towel in the other. She dropped the towel and made a claw out of her fingers, growling at the child, who screamed with laughter when those curled fingers caught him right in the tummy. He squirmed and wriggled, this adorable boy, caught between two women who loved him fiercely.

  Henry Travis Turner, nicknamed “Hank,” already knew what family meant.

  With a smile, Annie gave up her son when he held out his arms for his “Gammy,” and her mama hoisted him upside down for the short walk to the bedroom. She placed him on Susan’s bed, and he kicked his legs happily while she wrestled him into a fresh diaper and tee shirt. As she tugged it into place and let him bounce on the mattress, she inquired, “So, what’s the plan today?”

  “Lunch at the Hut. Bring Susan, even if you have to drag her butt back out of bed. I don’t get to spend enough time with all of you as it is, without her sleeping away most of my visit.” Annie pawed through a tangle of makeup and hair ties on the vanity dresser, until she found Susan’s brush. She unwound her hair from its braid and ran the bristles through the heavy strands, while she watched Hank bounce and giggle. “I’m glad we decided to stay an extra week.”

  Her mama ran a gentle hand over Annie’s hair. “I’m glad, too. I just wish your daddy could get away from work. I know he’s upset because he hasn’t been home very much.” She snuggled Hank when he crawled onto her lap and settled in with drowsy eyes and two fingers in his mouth. Her lips brushed his forehead in a loving kiss.

  It had been a wonderful visit. Annie knew Mama was thrilled that she’d chosen to stay another week. Hank scampered all over the house now. It was hard enough being so far away. She’d badly needed her mama, too.

  Mama’s soft voice roused her from her thoughts. “He’s so beautiful, honey. I want you to know I’m proud of you.” There was a catch in her voice that Annie knew could grow into full-blown tears, which would in turn get her going. Then Hank would sense her sadness and start crying, a chain reaction she’d seen more than once.

  She sat down next to her mama and wrapped her arms around both of them, Hank squished in the middle. He giggled as she declared, “It’s a Hank sandwich!” The silliness did the trick, turning would-be sniffles into laughter. For a few seconds they held the position, until Hank squirmed. As she gazed at her son, Annie felt her eyes film over despite her efforts at humor.

  He was a beautiful child, sunny tempered, loving and easygoing. Black hair, thick and silky, lay in soft curls over his head. He had Annie’s deep brown eyes, but otherwise he was the image of his daddy. With a sigh, she released Hank and settled next to her mama as she finished brushing her hair.

  Much of the anger she’d felt for Travis had mellowed. She hadn’t spoken to him since that afternoon in late May when he’d walked away from her, not knowing what he’d left behind. Her main worry these days formed around a possible custody war. Which co
uld be imminent if Ruth Quincy were to discover Hank’s birth before Annie graduated college and could fully support him on her own. And even then, Ruth could probably hire a fleet of lawyers who’d drag it all into court, find loopholes, and buy the right to take Hank from her.

  Ruth might hate the mother of her grandson, but she’d want him. Annie would do anything to protect her child, even if she had to lie and hide out. Both of which she’d done. Travis might be old enough, but he certainly wasn’t mature enough to hold firm against his own mother.

  But how sad that Travis missed out on the sweet boy who currently dozed against her mama’s shoulder, one chubby hand clutching the front of her sweater. How very sad.

  “Annie? What are you going to do, honey?”

  She looked up from the neat braid she was securing with one of Susan’s stretchy hair bands. “Do? What do you mean, do? About what?”

  Her mama glanced down at Hank, then quirked a brow at Annie, who sighed. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean.” She stroked her fingers over Hank’s flushed cheek. “I’m not going to do anything. You know I can’t. I’ll stay another week before I head back to get an early start at the bookstore.” She stood and gathered the clothing she’d set at the foot of the bed. “I want to see how fall semester goes before I increase my hours at work. Hank loves being with Aunt Nan, so that’s one major worry off my mind.” She smiled in reassurance. “It’s coming together, Mama. It’ll be all right.”

  Her mama flapped a hand in dismissal. “Oh, I know it’ll be fine. You’ll make it fine, and you’ll do great. But sooner or later, someone’s going to see Hank. Maybe not in Roanoke, although you never know. But definitely here, Annie. Someone who knows Travis or Ruth, someone who’ll put one and one together and make sure the Quincys know what’s what. As much as I hate to say it, the longer you stay in town—”

  “Mama, I know it’s a risk. But I’ve barely been back to Thompkin the past two years, and I needed this time at home with all of you. I’ve been careful. Ruth never comes to town. Her phobia seems to be as strong as ever.”

  “Anyone could see him and call up to Quincy Hall, honey,” her mama pointed out. “You only have to look at the boy to know who his daddy is.”

  Blinking away sudden tears, Annie took her sleeping son and cuddled him in her arms. He sighed into her neck and snuggled as she rocked him gently. Her damp eyes glittered in painful understanding. “Yes, I know. And Ruth will never get her hands on him, Mama, no matter what I have to do. Never.”

  Later, as she took her bath, she thought back on the vow she’d made just an hour after Hank’s birth. She ran a soapy washcloth over her face and recalled the tears she’d shed in the hospital room in Roanoke, from wanting Travis to know he had a son. Wrapped up in a soft blue blanket and sleeping like a tiny angel, Hank was a miracle she needed to share with the father of her child.

  Even when her family surrounded her in unquestionable support, it still wasn’t easy to pull back from making that phone call. Only her aunt said aloud what every Turner must have thought, as they all watched Hank sleep in her arms.

  “He’s gorgeous. And I can see he’s a Quincy, down to his toes. You think it might not hurt to let his daddy know.” Aunt Nan said it right to her face as Annie leaned back against the pillows and tears dampened her cheeks. Aunt Nan shook her head when Annie’s drenched eyes met hers pleadingly, hoping for someone to tell her it was all right to make that call. “But you stay away from the phone, girl. Right now, while your emotions are jumping all around, is the worst time to make any kind of decisions.”

  As always, Aunt Nan had been right. Annie rinsed the soap away and reached for her towel, blotting her face. If some of the moisture on her cheeks came from something other than bath water, no one would know but her.

  An hour later, she headed into town, Hank babbling away in his car seat. Thompkin always looked the same to her, and she had to smile as she drove toward downtown. It remained a prosperous a place that held onto its original charm while keeping abreast of modernization and growth. Annie knew the Quincy Legacy was responsible for most of what Thompkin enjoyed. The family had worked hard for their town for many generations. It was an onerous duty for Ronald Quincy, and it would be the same for Travis, when it became his turn to take over.

  It was still a great place to live and to raise children. Yet, she had no intention of coming back to Thompkin permanently, not until she could be sure her son was safe from Ruth Quincy.

  Chapter 20

  He followed her. How could he stop himself? Travis spotted Annie as he left Nimson’s Drugstore. She drove a compact blue Honda that rounded the corner of North Main, headed toward Market Street. It was pure luck he’d seen her at all, as his attention had been on slipping his wallet back in his pocket.

  Travis adjusted the bill of his baseball cap to shield more of his face. He stayed back, not wanting to arouse Annie’s suspicions. Hell, his Beemer was conspicuous enough. He dropped back even further, just in case.

  He had no idea what he’d do when she stopped, but he was determined to at least speak to her. He didn’t know if she’d listen to what he needed to say, not after a two-year silence on his part. She’d told him not to contact her again, but it was his choice not to push it. It was the only way he could think to keep his mother’s hatred from tainting her further.

  Two years.

  Two years of denying himself even the smallest touch of her in his life, all in the name of keeping her and her family safe from his mother’s threats. Without Annie, he was unbearably lonely, but at least he poured most of his concentration into his studies. He would graduate early from Yale, before his twenty-third birthday. He’d crammed three years of classes into two years, no small feat on his part. He hoped the additional year of grad study would speed by just as fast, and he’d be finished.

  Then he could inform his mother—and the board of trustees she now controlled—to go to hell. He could get down on his knees if necessary and beg Annie’s forgiveness. Marry her the way they’d always planned to do. And somewhere in the midst of all those plans, he’d push the damned trustees aside and take his rightful place in the Quincy hierarchy. He’d make his dad proud of him. He’d make Annie proud, too.

  He was so busy plotting all the ways to impress his loved ones, he almost lost track of Annie. He caught the taillight of her car as it turned off onto the county road that led to Boggy Creek Lane, and Bogg Pond. What the—?

  She was going to Bogg Pond. Travis hadn’t been back there since their breakup. It held too many bittersweet memories for him, and whenever he came home, he avoided it, and the inevitable pain of remembering happier times spent there with her.

  Suddenly Travis couldn’t think of a better place to confront Annie.

  When she pulled off the lane and onto the rocky berm ringing the north edge of Bogg Pond, he stopped his car near the new growth of high marsh grasses. He eased out from the driver’s seat and waited, desperate for his first look at the girl he’d loved for so very long.

  She opened her door, stepped out, and flipped her thick braid behind her back as she raised her face to the sky and stretched her arms above her head. Her hair had grown much longer. He could tell it would fall below her waist when loosened from its braid. She’d matured, too. The pretty girl he’d known forever had become a stunning woman.

  She spun in a circle, shaded her eyes with a slender hand, in much the same way she’d always done as a girl, when eyeing the calm surface of the water would net her the best pockets to fish for bullhead and pickerel. The memory made him grin.

  Then his grin faded into shock when he heard the high, babyish voice in the quiet air.

  “Ma-ma! Owd! Owd, Ma-ma!”

  She laughed as she turned toward the back seat, opened the door, and leaned inside. He could hear the love in her voice. Then, she lifted out a baby. Black hair curled riotously over his head. He wore a red jacket and blue jeans. Tiny white shoes completed his outfi
t. She swung him up into her arms, and he squealed out a happy trill of giggles, his pudgy hands clutching her around the neck.

  Travis leaned weakly against the car. Annie had a little boy.

  His little boy.

  He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He couldn’t believe what was right in front of his eyes. And fast on the heels of that disbelief, came the suddenly bitter acknowledgement that she’d kept their baby’s birth a secret from him.

  As Annie carried his son toward the pond and settled on the large flat rock where they used to fish, Travis pushed away from his car on unsteady legs. He wanted answers. He was damned well going to get them.

  It’d been a fun, if exhausting, day. Sylvia, Annie’s old boss at the Coffee Hut, served a delicious lunch and monopolized Hank all during the meal. Hank, at his most flirty, loved all the attention he’d gotten from a table full of women. He’d bounced in Sylvia’s lap, gnawed on a few of her French fries, and snuggled against her shoulder, his rosy cheek trustingly pressed to her neck.

  All too soon, it was time for them to leave. After she dropped Susan and Mama off at home, she decided to drive around a bit. She hadn’t done much of that since she’d been back in Thompkin.

  It was probably a bad idea when she followed her impulses and drove out to Bogg Pond. Here she was, trying to get Travis out of her mind, and yet she headed toward the one place in Thompkin truly their own. She’d stayed away from it, half afraid of the memories and also worried she might run into Travis there. Although she doubted he’d really haunt Bogg Pond out of loneliness for her, she figured there was no sense in taking any chances.

  She’d missed the uncomplicated goodness of the wild grasses and the grouping of flat rocks she’d stood on to fish. Memories of those casual dates with Travis, summer after summer, hung in the moist air. Maybe those memories were painful, but they were hers to cherish. They’d helped to form her, helped to strengthen her when she was at her lowest point. Whatever she now called her former relationship with the father of her son, Annie would be forever grateful a boy like Travis had once loved her very much.