Carolyne Aarsen - The Baby Promise

Beth blinked back a sudden and unexpected flush of tears. Jim had said he was sorry so many times that the words had lost their meaning and their power to change her view of him.

“I appreciate you telling me this,” she murmured, sensing Nick’s need to know he had completed his mission. “Thank you.”

Nick cleared his throat again. “I wish I was good with words, but I’m not. I just can’t find the right ones to tell you how sorry I am.”

Beth looked at him, then released a heavy sigh. “Words are cheap and easy to throw out, so don’t worry about not having the right ones.”

Nick gave a jerk of his head that Beth supposed was a nod. “Before Jim died he asked me to make a promise to take care of you. And to take care of your baby. I’m not sure how I’m going to keep those promises—”

“Don’t say anything more.” Beth held up her hand. “I can manage on my own. So I absolve you of whatever promise Jim made you make. You can leave tonight knowing you’ve done your job. For the rest, I just want to start the next phase of my life on my own.”

When she saw the frown on his face she regretted the harsh note that had entered her voice. She’d been so careful to keep things under control. She couldn’t let herself be drawn into the uncertain area of words and emotions where she knew she would lose her footing and her way.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, pulling back from her anger. “Thanks for bringing me to the house. I appreciate you coming and telling me what you told me. As for what Jim told you…well…Jim tended to be kind of dramatic, so don’t take what he said too seriously.” She stopped, realizing how that sounded. Jim had made Nick agree to the promise while he was dying. Of course it would be dramatic. She sighed and tried again. “I guess I’m saying that it’s okay. I understand what Jim was trying to do, but it isn’t necessary. So thanks for delivering the message. And…well…goodbye.” Since there was nothing more to say, she slipped into her house and shut the door.

She leaned her tired head against the rough wood as Nick’s words resonated in her mind. Jim asked me to watch out for you.

She closed her eyes, then slammed her fists against the door, trying to find an outlet for the myriad of emotions tangling and twisting through her mind.

“Why did you tell him that, Jim?” she whispered into the dark, wishing her husband could hear her. “You never cared before.”

She waited a moment, trying to find equilibrium and trying not to let even the tiniest flicker of hope lull her into believing anything Jim told Nick.

Jim’s words meant nothing. They hadn’t before he died. They certainly didn’t now.

No matter what Nick thought.

Nick spun away from Beth’s closed door, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he limped down the sidewalk. Why had he offered to escort her back to the house? Why did he put himself through this?

Because after looking at her across the dinner table, after seeing the grief on her face, he couldn’t let her leave on her own.

Though she hadn’t said anything, in those few moments walking alongside her, looking into her up raised face lit by the moon’s soft glow, something elemental had shifted inside him.

Something dangerous and wrong.

He was growing attracted to Jim’s widow.

He neared the main house, the heaviness of his guilt and grief weighing him down as much as his injury.

“That was quick.” Ellen paused in her task of loading the dishwasher and looked up as Nick stepped into the kitchen. “Is Beth okay?”

“Yeah. She seems to be. I think she just wanted to be alone.”

“She spends too much time alone,” Bob said, getting up from the table. “We’ve tried to have her over time and time again, but she gives us one of her reserved smiles and says she’ll think about it. Still can’t see how she and Jim ended up together.” Bob shook his head in puzzlement. “Jim loved to chat and talk and be around people. Beth never says much. Never did.”

“Beth is just a quiet girl,” Ellen said. “And yes, it would be nice if she opened up to us, but Jim said the same thing. She’s just more reserved, that’s all. Keeps to herself.”

“I’ll say,” Bob harrumphed, tugging his jeans up over his ample girth. “All she does now is sit at home alone, making those silly cards of hers.”

“Cards?” Nick shot Ellen a puzzled look.

“Beth likes to craft greeting cards.” Ellen walked to the refrigerator and pulled a card loose from a magnet holding it in place. “This was one she made for my birthday.”

Nick took the card, glancing down at the flowers and ribbon and cutout pieces of paper decorating the front. Happy Birthday was printed in shiny letters and pasted on a circle on the top of the card.

“Pretty,” was all he could say. He flipped it open and glanced over the printed poem on the inside with Beth’s signature written on the bottom, then handed the card back. “Looks like she put a lot of work into it.”

“Waste of time and paper is what I say,” Bob re plied.

“It probably keeps her mind off Jim. Though now the poor girl has other things to think about.” Ellen pressed her lips together as she traced the raised words on the card.

Nick thought of his own mother and for a moment felt an echo of an older grief. Life was so messed up. He had no parents and Bob and Ellen had no son and here they were together.

Bob cleared his throat. “Let’s go sit in the living room.” He nodded toward Nick. “We always have devotions there after supper. Do you have time to join us?”

Nick held his gaze as a trace of his former life drifted into his thoughts. His parents always had devotions after supper, as well. They would read the Bible and pray sincere prayers, believing God heard them.

“You don’t have to join us if you don’t want to. Beth never has,” Ellen said quietly, misunderstanding his silence as she tacked her card back on the refrigerator. “If you have plans for tonight, I understand.”

He faltered, wishing he could simply say no. But he was their guest and even though he and God hadn’t spent much time together lately, he didn’t have to deny their faith. Joining them was the least he could do for his buddy’s parents.

Besides, he didn’t have anything else to do. Go back to Cochrane to a hotel and from there…

He put the thought aside as Ellen tucked her arm through his.

“You know, I feel as if we know you beyond the few letters Jim would send,” she said as they walked to the living room. “When Jim told us your parents had died when you were just a teenager, we started praying for you, too.”

“Thank you,” he said. The thought that they remembered him in their prayers warmed some forgotten part of his soul. Sure, he didn’t believe in prayers anymore, and the fact that Nick was here, and not the son they had also prayed for, proved that.

But yet…

As Nick entered the living room his steps slowed. While the kitchen was cozy and comfortable, this room looked like part of a movie set. The log walls soared up a story and a half. Windows covered one entire wall. Though they were just dark rectangles and triangles now, Nick suspected, given the orientation of the house, that in the daytime one had an unsurpassed view of the mountains.

The room created a sense of space and, at the same time, peace and warmth. For the smallest moment he regretted not deciding to stay here longer.

As Nick looked around he noticed a group of pictures.

“Are those pictures of Jim?” he asked Ellen. “Can I have a look?”

“Of course. Our home is your home.” She made the offer as easily as offering him another piece of pie.