Promises to Keep (14 page)

Jack’s
entire body came alive. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her shadow.

It
had been ages since he’d held a woman in his arms. In his position as senior
officer, it was nearly impossible to get laid while in Iraq.

Eyes
burning, he didn't even blink as her tall, graceful silhouette came and went from
his view. Jack didn’t want to miss a thing.

God,
she's beautiful.

No
sex for years and before that? A chance meeting with another officer during
training. That had been a simple fling, sexual relief for both. As expected,
after very little time, PCS (Permanent Change of Station) orders separated
them.

It
had been forever since Jack held a woman he cared for, like he cared for Laura.
Had he
ever
felt as close to a woman like he felt close to her?

Jack
shook his head.
Stupid stupid stupid.

And
yet in his heart, he didn’t think so.

During
their months of correspondence, he'd looked forward to Laura’s every letter.
Now that he’d met her, the fluttering in his gut had become relentless. He had
Laura herself, to look forward to.

Jack
had fantasized, of course. He’d even imagined making love to Laura countless
times, before he even knew what she looked like. It had only been his
imagination. Vivid imagination, yes, but fantasy, nonetheless.

Here
and now
—
only feet away, behind that door
—
was the real thing.

He
remembered Bob’s picture on her bookcase. Not forgotten, indeed. Yet his sister
Sally’s blunt words ran through his mind:
He has no use for her now, does
he? If you two have a thing for each other, why let that go to waste? Life’s
too short to dick around.

Despite
his sister’s proclamation, because of the awkward and ethically challenging
circumstances, there was no way they could be together.

Could
they?

“Hello.
You still there?” Laura called out. “I asked if you’d ever been here before.”

He
cleared his throat. "New Bern, you mean?" Jack managed to croak, just
barely. "No. Seems like a nice place."

"Yeah,
it's nice," Laura said. Jack could see her shadow again, appearing once
more against the wall. She was doing something with one leg.

Stockings?

"Nice,
and quiet. I like it quiet," she continued. “It's good to live in a town
where they roll the streets up at night."

"I
agree. Peaceful is good, but in LA, I can buy a book or get a steak dinner at
three A.M. There's something to be said about that
—
it's the freedom to
do what you want, whenever you want."

Laura
came out, brushing her hair. It was as shiny as a brand new penny.

"That's
not freedom,” she said. “You get stuck in all of that hurrying here and there
and buying stuff
—
that's gross consumerism. Here, you stop and breathe in
the air and don't worry about getting somewhere on time because the traffic's
jammed up even in the middle of the night. I take the time to walk, stop and
look around because I don't
have
to be anywhere.
That's
freedom
—
being
able to buy stuff anytime isn't. That people feel the need to buy a book at
three in the morning shows just how much a slave they are to their own
materialism."

Jack
laughed. Her feisty, confident attitude pleased him. "Are you some sort of
activist? Tell me you wouldn't want to be able to buy a Bentley at midnight on
a Tuesday."

Laura
wrinkled her nose and then tossed the brush at him, over the couch. Jack caught
it with one hand.

"Hell
yes, I'd want
to be able
to buy a Bentley, any time and any day of the
week
—
but it wouldn't break my heart if I had to wait until Wednesday
morning to do it. When you have to have stuff
right now
, you’re no
longer in charge of your life,
stuff
is."

"I
can't argue with you on that one."

“Of
course you can't.” She snorted. “I'm right and it's obvious." She softened
this stubborn assertion with a cheeky grin.

Laura
ducked back into her room. "Let me put in some earrings and we'll be ready
to go."

When
she came back out, she gave a little pirouette in the middle of the living
room. "Here you go. Worth the wait?"

Yes,
yes she was. She was most definitely worth the wait. “You look amazing,” he
said fervently and Laura laughed.

Make-up
made her green eyes stand out—not too much make-up, just the right amount. They
looked huge, framed by long, dark eyelashes. Her mouth caught his
attention—that pink gloss made her lips look so damn kissable.

She'd
put on a light, short floral peasant dress, cinched at the waist with a simple
leather belt. A brightly colored ribbon held her hair back in a ponytail that
left her jangly earrings exposed. They lightly brushed her neck when she
walked.

Laura
held up one slim foot. "I hope you don't mind if I wear flats, I wear
heels at work and avoid them at all costs when I'm not working."

"Fine
by me." Jack hadn't even bothered to look at her feet, there was so much
else to look at. She was mouth-wateringly feminine, not in any “come get me,
baby” way, but still appealing and desirable.

“Is
that
André Chevalier’s book you have there?
The Language of Love?”

Jack
looked down, surprised to see he still held the book in his hand. “Oh, yeah.”
He flipped through it. “Looks good.”

“It’s
great.”

Jack
opened a page and started reading out loud,
“All people crave human
connection. Why then, is such connection so difficult to find? Deceit is a
barrier to intimacy. The loss of a relationship begins with one secret.”

“Hmm,
interesting,” he said.

The
words he read had disturbed him. Jack was keeping secrets from Laura about her
husband Wynn. Was he eventually going to tell her? Did he even need to? He
wanted to, but some secrets are hidden for a good reason.

“Keep
it,” Laura said. “Put it in your car to read later when you get home.”

“OK.
Thanks.”

"Where
we going?"

"You'll
see." Laura grabbed her purse, and they left together. He put the book
into his jeep and, side by side, they started walking. Laura chatted about the
town and the restaurant. It was new, and sat out over the river on pylons, so
every seat had a waterfront view.

Her
words drifted into the background as Jack took in the mild night air.

Suddenly
he felt uneasy, as if he were back in Iraq on a convoy driving into another
ambush.

Something
isn’t right.

Vets
were commonly known to be paranoid. Jack knew this. He'd seen it in those he'd
worked with; he experienced it himself, frequently.

Nevertheless,
he was sure there was danger here. He
felt
it, but couldn't quite place
it.

Laura
laughed at something, and Jack smiled back, nodded and then looked over her
head. The sun had set, but the street wasn't too dark as it was lit by neat
rows of streetlamps.

"New
Bern was the first capital of North Carolina, before they moved it to Raleigh
after the revolution," Laura said.

"That’s
interesting."

Restless
and disturbed, Jack looked up and down the street.

He
saw apartments and family homes, most with lights shining from open windows.
People sat on their porches, talking with neighbors or simply enjoying the
evening.

Fireflies
winked on and off in their nightly mating dance.

Jack
couldn't imagine a more peaceful and bucolic setting. So why was he so uneasy?

"It
was originally a Swiss colony, believe it or not. That's what all those bears
you see are around. It was the mascot of Old Bern, where the original settlers
came from," Laura went on.

Jack
felt positive what he sensed was real. It was more than paranoia, dammit.

Hyper-alert,
he could feel someone's eyes boring into the back of his neck. He wasn't about
to say anything to Laura. She was enjoying herself too much for him to spoil it
by going all PTSD on her.

"Then
the Union Soldiers came and took over early in the Civil War. That house on the
corner was used by General Burnside as a headquarters. You know him, the guy
they named sideburns after."

Jack
was having trouble following what Laura said, while he watched the street
around them. He resorted to the time-honored male trick of smiling and nodding
whenever the woman next to them was talking.

It
seemed to be working, for now.

Jack
jumped slightly as a couple jogged by, the reflective tags on the backs of
their running shoes, twinkled in the lamplight.

"That
famous writer guy, you know the one with the sweet and kind of sappy romance
novels? He lives around here, too."

Jack
was about to give up his search, to chalk up his unease to another case of post
war jitters, when he caught a brief glimpse. A furtive man stepped out from the
shadows, into the orange circle of light beneath a streetlamp.

He
was rough looking, in torn jeans and a dirty work shirt. Unshaven, his beard
was no more than a few days old. It looked as unkempt as the rest of him.

They
locked eyes for a second, and Jack could see malicious anger in him. Instantly,
Jack knew that this was who'd been watching them and following them.

What
was worse was, he realized the dangerous asshole knew. Jack had noticeably recognized
this stranger as a threat.

The
man looked away, then turned the corner and walked off in another direction. Jack
didn't buy the ruse. He'd be coming back.

It
didn’t matter.

When
he did, Jack would be waiting.

Dinner
was incredible
—
not the food
—
although
the food had been good. It was the company.

Jack
had the best night he could remember having in a long, long time. The
restaurant was set out on the river. Their meal was accompanied by soft,
intimate lighting and the romantic sounds of the water lapping on the pylons
below.

He
felt no malevolent presence in or around the restaurant.

Jack
finally began to relax and let his guard down when Laura went on about the last
time she’d been out to the movies
—
she’d
seen
some
sort of quirky, yet thoughtful indie piece. He was a bit of a movie buff, as
well, so this really endeared her to him.

They
spoke of their favorite activities—music, books and movies.

It
may have been the wine that made him so candid. Or the fact that it was a balmy
night in a romantic setting. Or just sitting with a pretty girl. Perhaps it was
the fact that they’d already been talking about the important things by mail
for months.

Whatever
the reason, they got along as if they’d known each other for years. Jack felt
so comfortable with her. From time to time they’d both have tears running down
their cheeks from laughing so hard, while listening to each other’s stories.

He
asked her about her family. Laura said that she didn’t know who her father was and
openly spoke of her mother’s attempt to sell her virginity. Even though it was
shocking and upsetting, she
made him laugh the way she told the
story.

“You
should've seen it,” Laura snickered. “It was like a B grade sit-com. There we
were—the three of us, crushed together in our small, ramshackle trailer. My
mom’s saying to me, ‘Honey child, you don’t mind doing this one little ‘ole
thing for mama, do you?

“I’m
using every evasive maneuver possible in a place where everything's within
arm's reach—moving around a chair to avoid Ricky’s grasping hands. The guy
wasn’t even forty, but he was a smelly, toothless drunk. I’m screaming, “No
way!” and “Fuck off!”

“Meanwhile,
Ricky—who lived two trailers down from us by the way—is there complaining at
the top of his lungs, "I done paid for a virgin! A virgin! I already paid!”

Horrified,
yet fascinated by her terrible story, Jack took another sip of wine without
breaking her gaze.

Laura’s
eyes sparkled. “I was angrier than I’d ever been in my whole life. It might’ve
been from fear, I guess. I was way more furious than afraid just then.”

“So
what did you do?”

“I
picked up the first thing I could put my hands on—which turned out to be my junior
high school swimming trophy. I was pretty skinny back then, but tall—as tall as
Ricky was. I took a swing and hit him on the head as hard as I could.”

Laura
started laughing. The more she laughed, the louder she got.

Doubled
over, she said, “Ricky”—she whooped—“he went down
hard,
like a sack of
grain hitting the concrete, after falling off a moving truck.”

Jack
laughed because of the funny way she told the story, and probably because of
how hard Laura was laughing.

“I grabbed
my purse, shoved a handful of clothes in a bag—then I lit out of there like my
butt was on fire, as you can imagine. The whole time I could hear my mama’s pitiful
sobbing, feeling sorry for herself and saying, “But I need money! Now what am I
gonna do?”

Jack
could envision the scene, Laura made it easy. It wasn’t funny at all—it was
tragic, except the way she told it, made it seem hilarious.

She
sighed. “I never went back.”

Stunned,
Jack said, “It’s incredible that a mother would do such a terrible thing. Where
does a fifteen year old go when they find themselves on the street?”

“I
went and lived with my best friend’s family. They had a nice house and were good
to me.”

“Well,
at least that worked out OK.”

Laura
smirked. “Yep. Right up until her dad started wanting me to sit on his knee and
kiss him goodnight.”

“No!”

“Out
of the fry pan, into the fire. Do you think it’s the blonde hair? Men seem to
go crazy over that.”

“I
love
your blonde hair,” he said.

Jack
was pleased when Laura snickered.

“Anyway,
my girlfriend and I quit being friends over it. Actually, she hated me. I
didn’t let her dad do anything, but he felt ashamed of himself—or maybe he was
afraid of getting caught. To cover his tracks, he told her that I’d been coming
on to him.”

“What
a bastard.”

Laura
made an accepting, kind of ‘oh well’ gesture with her hand. “Her dad could’ve
been much worse. I guess he expected
payment
for letting me stay there. It
doesn’t much matter. When I finally lost my virginity it was on my terms, by my
choice with a nice boy my age.”

Confiding
that her first time was when she was almost seventeen, Laura explained that
she’d been passionately in love with “Andy.” Fate interfered when his parents
divorced and Andy moved out of state with his mother—thus ending what was without
doubt, “the love story of the century,” she explained with facetious good
humor.

“It
broke my heart,” she said bringing her hand dramatically to her chest. “I think
I cried for two weeks straight.”

Jack
impulsively reached over and took her hand, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. “Teenage
crush or not—that had to hurt. I hate that you had to go through all of that. One’s
first love and first break up hits everyone hard.”

She
gave him a speculative look. “Did it hit you hard?”

“Like
a freight train,” he admitted, putting on an overly pained expression.

Her snicker
turned into an inelegant snort she quickly covered with her hand, but he’d made
her laugh, which had been his intention.

“Did
you cry?”

“Don’t
tell anyone, but I did.” He shook his head sadly and added, “Just like a little
girl.”

Green
eyes sparkling with humor and mischief, she laughed out loud and the joyous
sound of it was like Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas morning and summer vacation
all rolled into one.

The
woman awed him.

Laura
had a beautiful, open smile and a loud, uninhibited laugh. They matched her personality.

Jack
squeezed her hand once more and let it go. “You’re amazing, Laura. I don’t
understand how you can be such an upbeat and balanced sort of person with an
upbringing like that.”

“It’s
how you look at it, I think. Pretty early on I decided everything
doesn’t
have
to be such a tragedy—just because it is.”

Her
words were profound.

Jack
couldn’t think of one appropriate reply to that.

“Besides,”
she giggled happily. “I’ve got my share of imbalance. You don’t want to be
around when my temper’s running hot—especially if I have something heavy in my
hand.”

“I’ll
take my chances.” Jack grinned. “What I really don’t want to do is to ever meet
your mother. I might end up breaking my rule about hitting a woman.”

To his
delight, she stretched out her neck and pulled the ribbon out of her ponytail,
setting her lovely hair free. Tossing her head back and forth, Laura made her
golden mane cascade around her shoulders.

She
smiled at him with those two
front teeth set slightly apart and in
front of the others. Her heart-stopping smile dazzled him, and all he could
think of was running his hands through her beautiful, silky hair.

“That
feels better,” she said.

Mind
suddenly blank, Jack said nothing.

“Anyway.”
She shrugged. “
My mother was a good role model, really.”

“What?
How can you say that?”

“Everything
my mama did, I decided to do the direct opposite.” Her lips kicked up in a
sardonic smirk. “You’ve got to admit, it’s a pretty good recipe for success.
”

He
grinned and his eyes met hers. “It’s certainly working for you. You’re
amazing.”

The
slight pink tinge to her cheeks made him realise that he’d embarrassed her, but
she continued to meet his gaze. “That’s a nice thing to say, Jack,” she said
quietly.

“It’s
a true thing to say.”

It
was another compliment that Laura wholeheartedly deserved, but Jack wondered
how she’d take it. The sound of water lapping on the pylons, and soft
murmurings of other guests seemed loud in the sudden silence. She appeared to
be thinking.

“My
mom wasn’t a bad person,” she added. “I think she just made the wrong choices
and
became bad.
It’s like she screwed up, and then did it again and
again—repeating the same mistakes over and over. She had no self-discipline. I
swore that I’d be different.”

Jack
figured that she had a point. The thing with her mother shocked him, but
clearly Laura had moved past that, to a large degree.

It
explained why she had no photos. This beautiful girl spoke of her childhood
circumstances so easily. She laughed about it all, turning tragedy into comedy.

Quite
a skill,
Jack mused.
Quite a woman.

Jack
knew her mother’s betrayal had to have wounded her deeply. The woman whose job
it was to protect her, had actually tried to
sell
her daughter’s innocence
for a drug fix! How could that not hurt? It had, but somehow Laura had pushed
herself past it.

The
experiences Laura had been sharing had to be only the tip of the iceberg. Poor
kid. He could picture her as young and vulnerable—yet with innate inner
strength.

Laura
had gotten herself out of some hideous and scary situations, rising above it
all. She'd even gained productive life lessons from experiences that would have
destroyed the character of most people, leaving them bitter and unhappy.

It
was a testament to who she was. Not bitter, not unhappy and not a victim. She
was k
ind.
Funny. Strong and independent. How had she managed to turn out this way? Life
had knocked her down many times, but she stubbornly kept getting up again.

From
Laura’s very first letter, Jack had felt a powerful attraction to her. Seeing
and talking to her had only strengthened her fascinating appeal.

Feeling
that it was only fair to reciprocate with personal stories of his own, he told
her about his childhood, family dynamics and his love for his sister. Laura
heard about his sister’s girlfriend and their successful business in
California. Jack also told her about his first love.

“So
there I was,” he said. “Seventeen years old, in the bedroom of the woman of my
dreams.”

Laura
sat forward, her green eyes glittering brightly in the low lighting. “Yeah?”

“I’d
never had sex before—barely even kissed a woman. I was a complete virgin but I
was still a teenage boy, you know? All sorts of things ran through my mind and
my body. I had so much testosterone and so many images going through my brain
that I honestly had no idea where to start.”

She
snickered and he did too.

“Like
a kid in a candy shop
—
there were
way
too
many possibilities. I just froze, total and complete vapor lock. Like most
teenagers my age, I’d seen movies—heck, we had cable for a while. I’d memorized
probably every sexual position possible, or at least I
thought
I did.”

“Really?”

“Of
course.”

“I
never did that.”

“Why
not?”

Laura
shrugged. “I honestly didn’t think of it.”

“Seriously?”

“Maybe
women are different.
I
was. Maybe it was because of some of the creepy
guys’ mom brought home. I wasn’t interested in sex until I had some. Then, it
was like opening Pandora’s Box, you know? I mean, I lived perfectly well without
it until then.”

Jack
laughed. “It’s different for a man for sure. Living without, isn’t an option.”

He
flushed; surprised that he’d brought up the subject. How much had he been
drinking? He looked over and found they hadn't even finished the bottle of red
wine between them.

As a
doctor and a man, he was well aware of natural male biological functions; like
wet dreams, blue balls and the physiologically imperative need for regular
masturbation.

Women
didn’t seem to have these problems
—
they
had biological issues of their own, like menstruation.

However,
why would he be discussing any of this with Laura? As close as he felt to her,
Jack didn’t know her well enough for
that.