The Promise

by Robyn Carr

  Her eyes burned, and she felt the tears come, though she wished she wouldn’t cry over him. She was done with him, after all. Once he’d severed their relationship and told her he was moving on, that he had started something with this pert young nurse, she was done. But pregnant? Engaged? She’d been completely unprepared for that. What she had learned to expect was that Ted would replace her because he had needs—he needed a woman, he needed a housemate, he needed a babysitter, he needed an assistant.

  And Peyton needed three years of her life back. Three years of her life during which she had accomplished nothing and at a very high cost.

  The past year with Ted had been so difficult. So much arguing between them that even their brief respites from his children were not a comfort or rejuvenation. Had he just come from a hot session with his pretty young nurse that night he’d found her crying in their bedroom because his kids had deleted her entire recorded season of Homeland? Just because they didn’t like Homeland and wanted space for their own recorded shows. That night Ted, tired and sweaty from a long day, had been unsympathetic. “Listen to yourself, Peyton. You’re upset about a television show. Just buy the goddamn series on DVD! They’re children. Can’t you be the adult for once?” The same man who wouldn’t allow his kids to set foot in his office, touch his computer or move his books. The same man who threatened them with unimaginable punishments if they dared to screw around with his golf clubs or leave a fingerprint on his Lamborghini.

  She laid her head down and sobbed as she wondered how many people she had worked with knew Ted was doing Lindsey right in front of her. She felt so humiliated. The idea of Lindsey being next, even immediately next, she could somehow deal with that. But the idea that he had chosen Lindsey long before he’d dispensed with her... How many women had he needed to massage his formidable ego?

  What is wrong with me? she wondered. How could I fall for someone like that? How could I kid myself for so long? Why was I there for so long? What the hell did I think was going to happen?

  * * *

  Scott had a good afternoon in the ER, not too busy, never boring. He stopped at the clinic to pick up a new prescription pad for his medical bag and parked behind the shops, next to the back door. He unlocked it, let himself in and heard a sound. Maybe someone talking in one of the exam rooms. Could it be a patient, a late in the day walk in?

  He went to his office to get the pad, and there, sitting at his desk, her head down on her arms, was Peyton. Sobbing.

  “Hey, hey,” he said, going to her. “Peyton, hey.”

  She raised her head, and her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks wet, her lips fat and her nose pink. Oh, boy, he thought. She’d been at it awhile. “Come on, honey,” he said, sitting on the edge of the desk, gently stroking her back. “What can I do?”

  She shook her head vigorously and muttered something unintelligible that made her cry some more. She put her head back down on her folded arms and had at it.

  Scott grabbed the tissues from his desktop and pulled out a couple. “Come on, Peyton,” he urged, trying to lift her chin to look at her. “You can cry some more after you tell me what happened.”

  She sobbed, hiccupped, shook her head and grabbed the tissues out of his hand. She wiped her face, blew her nose and tried to talk. “He...he...he...” And she fell into her sobs again. “So humiliated... So hurt....”

  At a total loss as to what he should do next, Scott slid off the desk. With one knee on the floor to be at her level, he turned her toward him, wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back. She turned in his arms and, resting her head on his shoulder, she let it all out. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m right here.”

  She sniffed a little and slowly lifted her head, backing away a little bit. “That’s...that’s where she gets it.”

  “Huh?” he asked.

  She was gasping a little bit from the sobs. “Jenny. She says that, you know.” She wiped her eyes and nose. “You must say that to her.”

  He just smiled. “Maybe I do...I don’t know. Peyton, do you want to talk about it?”

  She pursed her lips. “I don’t know....”

  Scott rose and pulled the other desk chair over, closely, facing her. “You can trust me.”

  “Oh, I know that. Don’t ask me how,” she said, another hiccup escaping. “I know I can trust you. It’s just that...I feel so stupid!”

  He chuckled and shook his head.

  “That’s funny?” she demanded.

  “You’re proud,” he said. “Something hurt you, and you think you should have known, been ready, figured it out before it happened. You’re smart and you’re proud.”

  “Well, so what? That’s what I want to be—smart and proud!”

  “I know, kiddo,” he said. “But what happened to make you cry?”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “After the breakup, I...well, I got a call from a friend. I left Portland six weeks ago. I lived with him for almost three years, I left six weeks ago, not on the best of terms, of course. But he is already engaged. To a twenty-five-year-old nurse who is three months pregnant! While I’m torturing myself over whether to stay or go, while I’m working my ass off in his practice and racing home to stand guard over the world’s most malicious teenagers, he’s fucking some little nurse on the side. The arrogant bastard was cheating on me! Using me to run his practice and his home!” And then she started to cry again. She blubbered, and Scott caught a few words. “Just grow up, Peyton! Who’s the adult here.... What is it you want from me? Don’t I give you enough? Don’t you live here rent-free?”

  Scott was thunderstruck. He just stared at her in a stupor. When she finally calmed down enough to make eye contact, there was only one thing Scott could say. “Him?”

  She sighed wearily. “Ted Ramsdale, the cardiologist I worked for. We were together for almost three years. For over two we lived together. He shared custody of three kids. Three mean, rude, obnoxious, lazy kids. I’m sure if you asked him their birthdays he’d have to consult his calendar. I know for a fact his ex-wife used to text or email him to tell him it was time to buy a birthday gift. Which he would ask me to go pick up and wrap!”

  Scott ran a hand through his errant hair. “The cardiologist?”

  “Yeah, well I’ve never done anything like that before. In fact, I would not have taken this job if I’d known you were single. Especially a single father!”

  He laughed. He realized it might’ve sounded a little like a gleeful giggle, so he quickly cleared his throat.

  Peyton lowered her gaze. “It’s very embarrassing. I should’ve known....”

  “Why? Why should you have known?” Scott asked.

  “Because there were signs. He’s beautiful, for one thing, and he knew it. Women used to sway as he passed by. He’s not just striking, he’s stunning. Movie-star handsome. Once you get to know him you can see—he preens. He’s demanding. He’s manipulative and he’s in love with himself. It’s all about Ted. He takes care of Ted first. He wasn’t getting taken care of by me too well the last year we were together, so he got himself a stand-in because Ted likes love and attention, but more than that he needs to be worshipped.” She started to cry again, but softly. “The rat bastard. He was cheating on me, and he still asked me to take care of his kids! He needed a babysitter! Or a warden!”

  “He,” Scott said again.

  “What?” she demanded through tears.

  “What?” he repeated.

  “Why do you keep saying that. He.”

  “Oh. Um. Not important,” he said.

  “Yes, it is. Why?”

  “Well, because I was under the impression... That is, I thought your relationship was with... I thought it was a woman you were involved with.”

  “A woman?” she asked, reddened eyes suddenly round.

  “Based on things you said, you know....”

  Suddenly, as if enraged, she slugged him right in the solar plexus. “You think I’m a lesbian?”

  He backed away
a little bit, rubbing his chest with his knuckles. “I thought that’s what you were telling me! Not interested in men, et cetera!”

  She was still frowning, but it seemed from wonder rather than fury. “You think the only reason a woman wouldn’t be interested in men is if she’s a lesbian?”

  “Hey, I was wrong, apparently! I just...”

  “Made stupid assumptions. Why didn’t you just ask me? Jeez, you are not as smart as you look!”

  “Clearly,” he said, still rubbing his chest.

  A noise escaped from her, and she crumpled on to her folded arms again, literally wailing.

  “Hey, look, I’m sorry, all right? I meant no offense. I mean, it wouldn’t matter to me, not in any way. Except in the way that it puts you off-limits, not just technically, but... Come on, Peyton, I’m sorry. Come on!”

  She lifted her head, and there were tears on her cheeks again, but not from crying. She was laughing hysterically. Her smile was huge. She wiped at her eyes again and shook her head. “You’re such an idiot.”

  He frowned at her. “Get it out of your system and be done with it. I made a mistake. I didn’t do it on purpose. And I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “I wasn’t offended,” she said, giving her nose a good blow. “I was shocked! And now I’m wondering what kind of vibe I give off.”

  “It wasn’t a vibe. It was what you said— I thought you were laying it out there. Establishing boundaries. ‘Before there’s a lot of curiosity or conjecture,’ you said. That sounds like you’re saying, ‘Before anyone wonders why men don’t interest me....etc, etc.’ To tell the truth, I was pretty shocked, too.”

  “Well, let’s establish a couple of things, then. One, I’m straight. And two, the last thing I need right now is a man!”

  “Understood,” he said. “Tell me about Ted.”

  “Actually, I think I’ll go home and microwave a Lean Cuisine since Carrie is temporarily out of service. I’ll have an injection of white wine and make a call or two to my intimates to vent. Because see, leaving him, his house, his practice, his life—it was upsetting. Depressing. I was very sad and troubled and a little confused, though I thought I knew what went wrong with us. But I hadn’t had a good cry. Not until I heard he got someone pregnant before we officially broke up. That really brought me to my knees. And not because I’m not ready to let go of Ted. Ted can go screw himself. But because I’ve worked in a number of hospitals and practices and I know—there aren’t very many secrets. While Ted was fooling around with that young nurse, people knew. And they were either laughing or pitying me. And that hurts.” She sighed and closed up her laptop. “Pride.”

  “You sure you don’t want to talk about it? Because I’d be glad to make you dinner, and while the kids are in the dining room table tent, we could talk over a glass or two of wine. Or...we could take our wine into the tent....”

  She laughed at him. “As tempting as that is...I’m going home to run through my rituals that I use to get over myself. And I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You’re not afraid to trust me, are you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

  She shook her head. “No, Scott. We’ll talk about it someday. Just not today.”

  She packed up her laptop, purse and lunch tote, and he watched her leave. She turned at the office door. “Sorry for the meltdown. I thought I was alone.”

  “You were alone, Peyton. I hadn’t planned to come back. I’ll lock up.”

  “Thanks,” she said. And then she was gone.

  Hmm, not true love, eh? he thought. Well, that’s encouraging.

  Eight

  Carrie James didn’t need a referral to an orthopedist. She already had one. Dr. Todd in North Bend had treated her before for the same problem. Her knees often gave her some trouble. Since she had to rest the knee for a couple of days, the deli was closed, and she waited while Dr. Todd made arrangements for her to get an MRI.

  Fortunately, Carrie had some deli stock prepared, and with some help from her daughter and granddaughter, she could take a couple of days off. She kept her leg elevated, took an anti-inflammatory, iced her knee religiously and about forty-eight hours after seeing the doctor, the cortisone kicked in and the pain subsided a great deal. The swelling was much improved. Dr. Todd thought it would be a good idea to scope the knee and repair the meniscus, something Carrie didn’t want to do unless it became absolutely necessary. First she’d try to heal it, even if it meant wearing an Ace bandage for the next year.

  Carrie thought about the conversation she’d had with Peyton just this morning. “I understand your reluctance, and it does look a lot better,” Peyton had said. “But, Carrie, if you go back to your grueling schedule and take this knee for granted, you’re going to quickly be right back where you started. Tell Gina and Ashley you need their help right now.”

  “They’re happy to help all they can,” she’d said. “They’re great at making wraps, salad plates and sandwiches, but neither of them is much of a cook.”

  “Even with your supervision?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she’d said. “I’ll just have to get by with my deli stock, take at least a few weeks off from the heavy cooking and baking and pass along the wedding I’m scheduled to cater to one of my competitors in Bandon. I hate doing that. Brides are so easily upset by changes. And their mothers are positively psychotic.”

  “What did Dr. Todd say about the knee?” Peyton had asked.

  “Not a lot,” Carrie had said. “He was busy sharpening his knives.”

  “He wants to scope it, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes. At least. I’m going to have to be very careful because if I see him again, he’s going to recommend a total knee replacement. I’m over sixty, and I’m afraid I’ve been hard on my knees.”

  “Well, yes, be very careful because even though you’re feeling better, you know how these knee injuries go. One minute you’re standing, and suddenly, without warning, you’re on the ground. You don’t want to hurt anything else.” Then Peyton had smiled. “Too bad my mom has a farm and ten grandchildren—she loves to cook. Your seaside deli might take on a slightly Basque appearance, however.”

  “I would kill for some of her recipes,” Carrie had confided.

  “Ah, that’s like asking for the Holy Grail. Family food is pretty sacred in Basque tradition. Next time I’m home for a big meal, I’ll bring you some things to taste.”

  For a few days Ashley helped Carrie in the mornings, and when Gina was finished in the diner, she came over and helped in the afternoon. Carrie’s best friend, Lou McCain, did her shopping for her a couple of times. Of course, they were all more than happy to help, but Carrie was watching the money like a miser. Her sales were instantly down because she had to eliminate the dinners. And worse than that, she hated not being completely independent.

  She was sitting at her desk in the deli, going over her ledgers on the computer yet again, when the door opened and in came Rawley Goode. “Well, hello, Rawley. Didn’t Ashley deliver your order?”

  “Sure she did,” he said. “All taken care of. I had some time, so I came over to see what you need done.”

  “Need done?”

  “I’m sure there’s a good bit of chores that go hard on that knee. Trash? Clean up? Move things around? Deliveries? And I’m a fair cook, long as someone either tells me what to do or gives me real careful instructions.”

  “Rawley, I can’t accept your help. You’re a customer!”

  “Every one of your neighbors is a customer sometimes.”

  “Besides, I can’t just let people in to cook and bake....”

  “I can bake. I used to make my dad sugar-free deserts. Not easy, neither. Then I made ’em for Mercy when they stayed with me. Got so she liked ’em, too.”

  “Listen, it’s a business. It’s licensed. Before a person can prepare food, he has to—”

  Rawley pulled out his wallet and opened it. “Has to have one of these?” he asked, showing her his food handler’s card
. “Why, Miss Carrie, did you think Cooper and me were just hoping no one would ever stop by and ask? Even Sarah and Landon have their cards. I went to the health department for mine when Ben was still alive, but now you get it off the computer. Simple as pie. Now, why don’t I start by emptying trash and checking the dishwasher? Then, if you’re inclined, why don’t you tell me how to make something? Start with something easy. I’m partial to your meat loaf.”

  “Rawley...”

  “Cooper’s got the store out there at the beach. Landon’s got cleanup and boat and board rentals.”

  Carrie shifted her weight. Just standing for a few minutes bothered her. “Did Ashley say something about me needing help?”

  “No, ma’am. She did mention that she made most of the wraps and sandwiches, but some of your other stuff would just have to wait on your knee. It got me thinking... One plate of those crab balls and Cooper might give me a bonus. Now what say we get started?”

  She just shook her head in wonder. “Of all the people in the world I might expect to come to my aid, you are certainly the last, Mr. Goode.”

  “Now that doesn’t speak well of me at all, Miss James.”

  * * *

  It took Peyton a few days to get her head together after the news of Ted’s engagement and pending fatherhood. Her struggle didn’t show, especially at the clinic. Other than a quick, “How are you doing?” from Scott, nothing was said. After a few days, she felt less obsessive, though she thought it might take her years to think back on her time with Ted and the way it ended without feeling hurt and resentment. But that’s what people dealt with. Relationships could be real messy—one of her brothers was divorced, and he was still pretty pissed off about it, though it looked as if he was better off.

  That’s all she wanted at the moment—for it to look as if she was okay. She knew her deeper emotions were bound to catch up. Eventually.

  Scott, she had to grudgingly admit, had been a real find in every way. Not only had he given her a nice place to work, to rest while she got her life back together, but he’d been very supportive. He was a nice guy, there was no question. He wasn’t like Ted, not in any way. He was good-looking and sexy, but Scott didn’t seem to know it. His shoulders and forearms spoke of strength, yet he handled little old ladies and small children with such gentle care. His smile could be mesmerizing while his eyes drew a person closer. And he had a very cute butt in those jeans. But most of all, if you were with Scott, whether as a coworker, patient or friend, you felt secure.