A Promise Remembered

by Elizabeth Mowers

  Annie shot William one seething look and looked transfixed, his hand tight on her arm as she struggled with whether she wanted to leave or not. There they stayed for several moments, Annie staring at William’s hand as he stared at her. It was William who finally broke the standoff.

  “Forget I asked,” he whispered, cautiously releasing his grip to steal a cracker off her plate. “And what I was thinking during the ceremony,” William slowly began as Annie settled back onto her chair, “is how time slips by far too quickly.”

  “Is that what you were thinking?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Such as?”

  “I was thinking about how stunning you are tonight.” The soft timbre of his voice had her wavering on her earlier promise to herself. She couldn’t be responsible for her own actions when a man’s voice took such care.

  Annie lowered her eyes to her lap before taking a deep breath and raising her head up with resolve.

  “Julian was gone before the subject of marriage even came up.”

  “He left you?”

  “With nothing. We had nothing.”

  “And your mom had already passed away by then...”

  She nodded. “It was just Betsy and me for a long time.”

  “What a fool,” William said on his breath as other couples joined them at their table. “He missed out on a really great kid.”

  “She sure is,” she said with a wistful smile, the champagne making her feel sappier than usual.

  “And that’s because of you, you know. You’re a wonderful mother.”

  “Not some days...” Annie began, but William touched her hand, letting it linger there for longer than was needed to convey the point.

  “You are, Annie. It’s obvious.”

  “Thank you,” she managed to tell him as their table bustled with excited guests. “It’s kind of you to say so.”

  “It wasn’t something really kind. It’s true. A fact.”

  She waited for him to take his hand away and when he didn’t, her heart warmed. She felt safe, understood and for the first time in as long as she could remember, right where she wanted to be.

  * * *

  WILLIAM HAD BARELY finished his dinner, taking bites in between making eyes at Annie. She had transformed into the woman he remembered. This was the Annie Curtis whom Brandon had talked about. This was the Annie he had first fallen in love with. With every toss of her head and playful lilt in her voice, she had dropped her guarded exterior and taken up who she’d once been. Confident, feminine, open. After the first wedding dance, the disc jockey had welcomed all the guests to join the happy couple on the floor, drawing the crowd to its feet with a fast-tempo song and Annie along with it. William’s brows lifted as Annie flew off her chair.

  “I love this song!” she exclaimed.

  “Are you ready to dance?” he asked, but Annie’s lips had already curled into a sly smile. She reached out for his hand, beckoning him to follow her. Navigating in between fellow guests who had been enjoying the open bar, she led him to the center of the dance floor, where his heart thumped along to the bass line. He had wisely stopped Annie after half a glass of champagne, but as he watched her in front of him, he couldn’t contain his surprise. She moved without reservation as the new Annie. Or was it the old version come alive again? Whatever her metamorphosis, she made him feel like he was eighteen again as he hastened toward her. He yearned to be close to her, to touch her and to be touched by her.

  He slid his hands around her waist, stepping in time to the music as she playfully toyed at his necktie. Pulling him within inches of her pouty mouth before pushing him away again, she sashayed her hips with a playful ease he couldn’t tear his gaze from. Every time he thought she wanted him, he’d reach for her waist only for her to take a half step away again, her eyes flashing as if daring him to try harder.

  When she cast him a smoldering look, he couldn’t resist any longer. As she lifted thick curls off her hot, dew-stained neck, exposing the perfect curvature of her back from nape to tailbone, he swooped toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She startled, but this time, with hands holding her to him, he dipped his lips to the base of her neck, her curls curtaining the side of his cheek. Her body stiffened for only a moment before her hands rested on top of his own.

  As the music faded to a slow number and the neon lights transformed to faux starlight, the dance floor cleared except for paired silhouettes. William swayed methodically, his mind cleared to nearly nothing except the sensation of Annie spooned against him. Her dainty figure fit effortlessly against his own like the missing puzzle piece he’d been hunting for for so many years. Her delicate scent mesmerized him, a fragrance as if she’d slipped out of the bath and into a lush garden. It didn’t overwhelm; it invited.

  He softly nipped at her earlobe. But before he could whisper, she inched around to face him. She pressed her hands to his chest, her eyes never lifting higher than his parted lips. As their faces hovered only inches apart, his pulse surged, making him lean in for more.

  He slowly tasted the flush of her lips, but as if dragged by doubts, she pulled away. Before he could catch her hands, she slipped like sand through his fingers and fled from the dance floor.

  As she pushed open the exit door, warm sunlight blinded him, his starlight reverie completely dissolving. Shielding his eyes as he followed her outside onto the second-story deck overlooking the lake and beach below, he blinked frantically to find her. The heavy fire door clicked closed behind him, cutting off the music with an abrupt snap. Guests straggled along the railing as the breeze coming off the lake cooled to late evening. Once his eyes finally adjusted, he spotted Annie farther down the beach, her high heels clasped in hand. After descending the steep deck stairs and finding his footing in the sand, he sprinted after her.

  “Annie,” he called, pulling on her hand to stop her as she gasped to catch her breath. The breeze whisked locks of hair wildly around her face. “It’s all right.”

  Annie dropped her heels in the sand with an exasperated cry.

  “Is it?” she asked, gazing up at him. Her pecan-brown eyes gleamed as the evening sun caught them, exploiting every flicker of gold hidden within. She was everything to him that she had once been, swaying in front of him with the abandon of a child. When the wind shifted at her back, it was all he could do to muffle a chuckle of amusement in how helpless she appeared trying to keep her hair off her face.

  “Don’t you laugh at me, William Kauffman,” she warned, threatening him at finger point before storming down the beach.

  “I wouldn’t dare. I’ve learned my lesson,” he called, plucking her shoes from the sand before quickly sidling up beside her and leading her to a bench. “Annie, sit with me.”

  “It’s not a good idea,” she replied.

  “It’s a terrible idea,” he mocked. “But do it anyway.”

  She hesitated but reluctantly followed. The sun sank closer to the horizon, it’s warm glow fusing broad paintbrush strokes across the sky in burnt orange, coral and fuchsia. Aside from the distant murmur of voices on the deck and a straggling seagull gliding effortlessly past, they were alone.

  “You’re in for a treat,” he said, relaxing his arm on the back of the bench.

  “I’ve seen a sunset before.”

  “Not like this.”

  “No?”

  “Nope.”

  “What’s so special about it?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” Annie huffed. “You need a better line than that.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” William replied, becoming serious. “We’re approaching something special. At this very moment, before the sun is swallowed below the horizon, it’s light has to travel the greatest distance through the atmosphere.” He drew closer toward her before continuing. “More blue light is scattered about so the sun makes t
he light in the sky appear more reddish. You and I are basking in the golden rays known as magic hour.”

  “Really.”

  “You seem unimpressed.”

  “I always thought it was called golden hour.”

  “You’ve heard of it?” Annie tried to muffle a smile. “What?” he asked, before the realization dawned on him. “Did I tell you this before?”

  “How can you not remember?” Annie burst, a hearty laugh resonating up from within her until it pulsed over him. It was contagious.

  “Did I call it golden hour back then?” He chuckled.

  “Yes. It was after Jerry Renaldo’s birthday party—”

  “Over by the lake—”

  “And you suggested we go out to the boathouse—”

  “Before Ashley and Miranda snuck up on us. That’s right.” He laughed. “Getting pelted with water balloons while I was trying to get to second base kind of overshadowed the golden hour memory for me.”

  Their laughs subsided as the memory misted over them. First love, innocent love, unexplored territory. William recalled how eager they’d been to kiss that night.

  “So you’re going with magic hour now?”

  “I like magic hour better for tonight.”

  Annie smirked. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why magic hour?”

  “Well...I have an idea.”

  “I’m not kissing you.”

  “That couldn’t be further from my mind.” At this, Annie chuckled again, snuggling closer. “I’ll answer one question for you...anything you want to know,” he said.

  “That could be interesting.”

  “There’s a catch.”

  A wry smile thinned her lips. “Of course there is.”

  “Then you have to answer one question for me.”

  “About?”

  “Anything I want.”

  “I don’t know if I really want—”

  “And,” he inserted, “because it’s the magic hour and all the beauty of the cosmos is peacefully settling down for the night, you and I can relax. Here on the beach with all this beauty wrapped around us, nothing bad can happen to you, no matter what you say.”

  Annie studied him carefully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Who goes first?”

  “Lady’s choice.”

  A soft murmur tickled within her throat as he waited for her to contemplate her options. “Why did you really come back?” she finally managed.

  “I told you already. I—”

  “No,” Annie whispered. “It’s magic hour. You have to tell me the whole truth.”

  William hummed a beat before replying. “I wanted the bike.”

  “Dennis’s motorcycle?”

  He nodded.

  “And?”

  “I was coming to say a final goodbye.”

  “Final? To whom?”

  “Everything, everyone. To mom. Dennis.”

  “Dennis?”

  “I need to take his bike to end it once and for all.”

  “End what?”

  “The turmoil I have in my head because of him. He’s dead, I’m alive, and I have to move on and let go of my old demons if I ever want to be happy.”

  “And have you? Let your demons go?”

  William hesitated. “I don’t know yet. Almost. Are you disappointed?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “I’m not so sure. I’m surprised that was your question.” He shifted even closer, causing her to offer a half smile. “My turn,” he said in a hushed tone.

  “What if I don’t want to answer?”

  William was instantly concerned. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Annie. You should know me better than that by now.”

  “You’re right. I do,” she murmured. “What do you want to ask?”

  “Do you feel something for me?”

  “What?” Annie’s eyes fell to his lips before meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “No?”

  Her forehead wrinkled in defense. “I can only imagine how many other women you’ve spouted this line to.”

  “No other women. Only you.”

  “I...I don’t know.”

  “Your quickened breath says otherwise.”

  “Are you telling me or asking me, then?”

  “I’m telling you.” He paused, his breath grazed over her ear. “I’m telling you, Annie, that I have feelings for you. You’ve entranced me tonight.”

  “William...”

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  Parting his mouth slightly to brush his lips along her cheek, he tenderly grazed her neck. He recalled how he had delighted her with each caress when they were younger. He had wanted no other woman but her and only her then. No other companion for his life, his adventures. He had assumed she’d be by his side through it all, but their courtship had come skidding to an abrupt halt. Unfairly. Unjustly. And she’d been wounded so heavily since then, the emotional scars written on her like a blueprint of how not to proceed. The coulda, shoulda, wouldas were impossible to ignore. The lost time urged him to hold her now.

  Under the warmth of his touch, she tipped her head back, asking him to take her sweet, delicate mouth with his own. He kissed her tenderly as he had once done so many years before.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ANNIE SWEPT INTO Pop’s Place early. Oscillating about the empty dining room, she tried to calm her nerves and funnel her energy into work before they opened the doors. She hadn’t had a moment’s rest since the wedding, including the two sleepless nights since she last saw William. He had bid her goodbye on her doorstep, and she’d swooned with equal parts anxiety and excitement.

  He had said the sunset on the beach was magic hour, and he’d been right. Between his bronze skin pressed against her, his soulful eyes following her every move and those delicious lips tracing a path across her collarbone, she’d arrived home later that night feeling as if she were coming up for air. His presence had had a simple hint of warm familiarity, although he was no longer the smitten boy she’d fallen in love with over a decade ago. As a fully grown man, his stature was stronger, his hands steadier and his kisses hinted at a practiced skill that had developed during their time apart. She’d melted more quickly than she could have ever anticipated, the fast tempo of her heart racing as eagerly as the tide lapping up on the beach only yards away from them.

  When the sun had sunk and the last pinpricks of light in the distant horizon had calmed to purple hues of darkness, his kisses had accelerated. When he’d gingerly placed his hand on her thigh, she’d frozen. She’d been here before, the mistakes of her youth all too pungent on her tongue. As she primed her rejection, she prepared herself for his groan of dissatisfaction, or an irritated grimace at her attempt to thwart a hunger he obviously had for her.

  William had smoothed his fingers farther up her leg, his lips dipping to kiss her shoulder, and she’d squeezed his hand with such a sudden force, he’d blinked his eyes open in surprise. She’d tensed, expecting him to complain.

  What she hadn’t been prepared for was him giving her space. He’d pulled back slightly to study her, and then he took his arms away.

  “It’s all right,” he’d breathed as she’d shifted beside him, uncertain if she should apologize, pick a fight or just walk off down the beach. Instead, she’d crossed her arms over her chest in a shivery hug.

  She looked away, but knew his eyes were on her, most likely mocking, or maybe he was preparing a jest. She couldn’t deny her feelings for him, but as the cool night air settled over them, and the magic they’d been cloaked in now evaporated, she cringed from foolishness.

  When she’d finally glanced at him, his expression revealed a kindness she hadn’t experienced in a long time. His lips flinched in understanding as he cast h
is eyes over her chilled skin. He slipped off his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders effortlessly, as if he had been doing it for her every Saturday night for the last twelve years.

  “My sweet Annie,” he’d hummed, each deep note as unforgettable as the one before it. His eyes had crinkled in a smile, and she wanted to ease into his arms again, but he’d guided her to her feet.

  “Let’s get you back,” he’d said, leading her up the beach with her hand secured in his left hand and her shoes dangling in his right.

  As she moved through the diner, trying to focus on her morning tasks, all she replayed in her mind was how protected she’d felt. His assurance, his respect, had her swimming in dreamy pools of attraction, filling her senses as fully as his musky sycamore scent. Was this what real love felt like? Was this flip-flop, bubblegum-tinged whirlwind she’d been blissfully tumbling in for the last two days what all the Romantic poets had been professing for centuries? Could she even risk considering it so? She’d had her share of stormy days, when loving hurt and needing was squelched. It had been a long time since anyone had stretched a banner of love over her, and on the beach with William, she’d so easily embraced it. She’d relived his touches, his whispers and his self-control unceasingly in the nights since his hand had clasped hers and led her home.

  Through it all a nagging voice in the back of her mind hissed at her. A jagged splinter of self-doubt had taunted: this bubble will eventually burst.

  Sooner than later William would realize she had too much baggage. He’d move on like most men did. In fact, he’d already made it clear he had one foot out the door, biding his time until the diner was doing better. She was a fling, an old itch he wanted to scratch again. She’d be sorry. She’d be the fool soon enough.

  Perhaps that was why she hadn’t returned his call the day after the wedding, choosing instead to replay his voice mail a dozen times and fawn over his velvety voice whispering in her ear. It was as close to William as she should ever get again. She’d wondered over the years how it would feel to kiss him again, and now that she knew, it was imperative that she distance herself. She needed to be wiser than her seventeen-year-old self, or the inevitable would happen. He’d break her heart all over again.