Rebecca's Promise (28 page)

T
he next morning Leona came into the kitchen groaning. She was dressed for the day, but her hair still hung over her shoulders.

“You have no business being up,” Rebecca said, from where she was standing at the oven.

“You’re right,” Leona agreed, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table, then changing her mind. “I think I’ll take the recliner for now. Maybe I can help set the table when I get the children up.”

“I’m fine,” Rebecca assured her. “I got up early enough, so there’s time.”

“We’ll see. In the meantime, let me get this bloated body into a soft chair.”

Moving as quickly as she could, Rebecca had breakfast ready and set out on the table by the time Stephen appeared. The eggs, bacon, toast, and oatmeal were a welcome sight. He seated himself and bowed his head in prayer. Rebecca stopped her movements by the oven until he was done. In the silence of the prayer, she heard Leona go down the hallway to call the children.

While Stephen ate, Rebecca prepared his lunch, relying on memory as to what Leona had put in the day prior. The sleepy-eyed children showed up about the time Stephen was ready to leave.

“Mom’s getting close,” he told them, focusing on the two oldest, Elmo and Lois. “If the time comes while you’re at school, Rebecca will have someone pick you up after school is out and before you walk home. Whoever picks you up will take you to Fannie’s. Elmo and Lois, you watch over the younger ones.”

“Why? Is mom sick?” eight-year-old Verna asked, standing beside Stephen, her eyes full of concern.

“No,” Stephen said, pressing her hand. “She’s not sick. There’s another baby coming to live at our home.”

“Where’s he coming from?” Verna asked, not at all sure about this. “Do you get him from town?”

Stephen smiled at her. “No. The baby’s coming from God.”

“Oh!” Verna thought for a moment. “That’s nice of Him. I guess.”

“Yes,” Stephen agreed, “it is.”

When he was gone, Verna whispered to Lois, “
Vi brink Da Hah da glay one?
”

“In mom’s stomach,” Lois whispered back, pointing to her own.

Verna’s eyes got big, but she said nothing more.

Leona came in to eat with them, and Rebecca noticed that Verna had a hard time keeping her eyes off her mother’s protruding middle. She raised no more questions, though.

With the children gone and the dishes washed, Rebecca set up the ironing board in the living room. With two flat irons, one heating on the burner while she used the other, she tackled the waiting pile of wash. Leroy and James contented themselves with playing on the living room floor.

Speaking from the recliner, Leona insisted, “Bring me the pieces of clothing after you’ve ironed them, and I will fold them.”

“There aren’t too many.”

“I know. It will make me feel useful.”

Complying, Rebecca set up an upside-down hamper beside the recliner and brought her some Sunday handkerchiefs to fold once she ran the iron over both sides. The weekday ones had already been put away yesterday.

With her two irons and spray bottle of water, the ironing proceeded smoothly. Rebecca worked in silence, broken only by the sound of hot metal sliding on damp cloth, steaming on the wet spots. Leona dozed off in the recliner.

Rebecca set aside several small items in case Leona awoke and wanted something to do. But when she was done with the last piece, Leona was still sleeping. So Rebecca finished the folding herself and carried the last pieces into the bedroom closets.

Finally, having thought about it most of the morning, she went to her own bedroom, dug among the folds in her case, pulled out the ring, and slipped it into her apron pocket.

Working quietly in the kitchen, she fixed four sandwiches and placed three in the refrigerator. Finding a small carrying case in the pantry, she put the other sandwich and a pint jar of water into it. It would be her picnic lunch, of sorts.

Leona woke with a start when Rebecca approached the recliner, much to Rebecca’s gratitude. She would have felt awkward having to awaken her aunt, but Leona needed to be told that she was leaving.

“Are you finished?” Leona looked around. “I dozed off, I guess.”

“Yes, I’m done,” Rebecca said. “I was wondering if it would be okay if I went for a walk down by the bridge for a little while. If it’s not too taxing for you to watch James and Leroy, I’ll be back in time to fix supper. I’m taking a sandwich along, and I left three for you and the boys in the refrigerator.” Then she added quietly, half hoping Leona wouldn’t hear it, “Today’s my birthday.”

Leona rubbed her stomach and said, “I guess I did forget your birthday with all that’s going on. I’m sorry. But sure, go. The baby’s not coming just yet, I don’t think. It shouldn’t be too bad. Maybe we can bake a cake tonight for you. The children would like that.”

“I’d better be going then.”

“Is that where you and Atlee used to go?” Leona’s face lit up with a smile.

“Yes,” she admitted, hanging her head.

“Don’t dream too long then.” Leona’s smile contradicted her words. “Life moves on. We have to go with it.”

How could Leona know what was in my heart? Or was she just guessing?
“I know,” Rebecca agreed.

She left the house and turned south on the road. A brisk five-minute walk brought her within sight of two homes at the junction where she would turn right toward the bridge. Two cars sat in the driveway of the first place, their red and white contrasting colors offsetting each other.

From what Leona had mentioned in passing, this was where she was supposed to go to call when the baby came. An older lady, Mrs. Spencer, lived here with her two grandchildren. This arrangement, from what Leona had told her, benefited both parties and allowed Mrs. Spencer time to do some taxi driving for her Amish neighbors. The tan-colored house had a Christmas tree in the window, lit even at this hour of the day, sparkling with a star on top. A massive green wreath with bright red ribbons was hung on the front door, creating a warm welcome. Rebecca decided she already liked Mrs. Spencer, even without having seen her.

Without any Christmas decorations, the place next to Mrs. Spencer’s looked almost Amish, but the overhead power line running to the house gave it away. Rebecca decided it must be English too, and maybe they were just late in putting up their lights.

Turning right at the junction, she began looking for things that reminded her of the past. There was nothing she wanted to miss, not because of some morbid fascination but because she wanted to come to the root of her memory of Atlee.
What had it really been like and what had we really done?
she wondered.
Was this hold he had on my heart something I could get rid of—and get rid of today—or was there something else behind it all?

The West Skating Rink Road was rather featureless along this area. A lone tree or two stood, casting shadows across the road. Other than that, plowed and shorn bean fields lay on either side.

A single building sat near the road. She couldn’t remember what
purpose it served. She guessed it was a toolshed. Whatever it was, it sat alone, as if forgotten by the world.

Atlee had not brought Rebecca down here often. He kept several underwater traps along a stretch of the Flackrock River. Because the trapped animal would quickly drown, he didn’t have to come down here every day to relieve its misery—the cold water preserved the game for a day or so.

On that Saturday so long ago, she remembered that it had started out similar to this day—first cool, then warming up to a comfortable temperature. She had followed Atlee to the bridge, after her mother had given permission. It was here they had walked together. As usual she tried her best to keep up, yet that day he hadn’t seemed as impatient with the slower speed Rebecca required.

As they made their way off the road and into the woods, she thought perhaps their shadows caused her to be able to see him better. He had been just ahead of her, swinging his two empty traps in rhythm with his step.

He had turned to say, “I hope I have a big muskrat today.” A big grin spread across his face. “They’ve been bringing a real good price. The fur man told me yesterday that a big one would be almost double the normal fee.” He made a face, his freckles moving. “I’ve just caught little ones so far this winter.”

She felt the wind move in the trees as she heard her own answer, “You’re making good money, are you?”

His blue eyes twinkling, he glanced at her. “I don’t know. I can always do better.”

But she knew, she just knew that he was making good money. He was so much bigger and smarter than she was. He knew how to read a stream and determine where the best place to set his traps was. He knew when to head home because a storm was coming, timing it just right so they didn’t get wet. He even knew how to make Emma laugh when she didn’t want to.

Rebecca had never told Atlee what he was good at. Atlee no doubt
knew, but did he know how he made her heart skip a beat? Did he know what his blue eyes were beginning to do to her? Did he know about the strange quiver she felt in her stomach when his hand brushed hers as they walked side by side on the road? No, she supposed he couldn’t know. It was just the way it was, and she had never found the time or words to tell him.

The road took a sharp turn, and she could see the bridge ahead through the trees. Her steps quickened. The bridge still looked as massive as she remembered it, stretching wide across the Flatrock River.

Coming up to the entrance, she stopped and read, “E.L. Kennedy 1886,” written in a half circle across the top. The county must have hung the small green Christmas wreaths on either side—they were too high off the ground to be the work of a friendly neighbor perched on his pickup truck.

Other things looked much the same. On the right side of the bridge was a little path going down to the river. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, she jumped the guardrail and carefully made her way down the path.

In a rush of memories, she walked to the water’s edge. The Flat-rock River was swift-flowing here, its waters seemed to be in a hurry to get where they were going. This was where Atlee had kept one of his traps. Right in the deep water over there. She could remember it so clearly. And that day.

This was also the place where she had planned on eating her lunch, but the rush of the moment was overtaking her. She now knew where this was going. She willed it to stop, and yet at the same time allowed it to continue. Was this not what she had come here for? To know, to face, to understand, and to meet Atlee if he came?

She saw it all as if it were yesterday. Atlee had walked down to the river ahead of her, his black hair shining in the sun. He had checked his trap and found nothing. Silently he had returned to where Rebecca stood. She remembered wondering why there was no look of
disappointment on his face.
Was he not looking for his big one?
She had then thought they would continue walking farther down the river, but instead he had paused in front of her. Then he put his hand in his pocket. He looked like he wasn’t thinking about muskrats anymore.

She had looked at him, puzzled. She heard his voice clearly, even now, coming to her from across the years.

“Ah, Rebecca, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“Yes?” She raised her eyes to him, questioningly.

“You know we’re moving after Christmas. You know that, don’t you? I’m going to another school.”

She had nodded, knowing but not understanding.

He fumbled in his pocket. “I found this the other day.” Slowly he pulled out the ring. It sparkled in the sunlight, just as it still did. “Rebecca, I would like to ask you something.”

His eyes first went to the bridge beside them, then back to her eyes. They burned with an intensity she had never seen in them before. Yet she had not looked away, letting his fire come into her, burning in her chest.

“Promise me something, Rebecca.” His voice quivered, but it did not break. “I know that we’re still young. I have no control over our leaving Milroy. But will you promise me you’ll keep this ring till you’re twenty-one?”

She responded slowly, not understanding, whispering, “Why?”

“Keep it for me, Rebecca. I will come back for you then. From wherever I am. When we are of age, it will be different. Promise me you will keep it—that you will wait for me before you ever decide in favor of someone else.”