The Promise

  The place was pretty crowded—typical of a sunny Sunday afternoon in the summer. The tables on the deck were full, there were folks sitting on low beach chairs on the sand, kayakers and paddleboards on the water. Carrie said hello to those she knew and went into the bar. Landon was sweeping up sand and dirt, which made Rawley the only adult present and therefore standing behind the bar.

  “Landon, how’s that little niece of yours?” Carrie asked.

  “Loud,” he said. “And she pukes a lot.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Sarah says it’s normal. Glad I don’t remember being a baby.”

  She laughed at him and jumped up on a stool in front of Rawley. “How are you doing, Uncle Rawley?” she asked with a smile.

  “Kinda hard to believe Cooper had anything to do with Summer, she’s that pretty,” he said.

  “You aren’t getting overworked, are you?”

  “Nah. I like being here. I just ain’t much for a lot of people, but this bunch seems to know that. They don’t ask me a lot of questions.”

  Carrie pulled her menu out of her pocket and unfolded it. “Are you up to making an order for the week, or should I pester Cooper for it?”

  “No big deal, I’ll do it. Let’s have a look. Prolly be all the same stuff.”

  “I marked the usual items, but do look it over, Rawley. I’m trying a few new things. I have a cold barbecued chicken breast, sliced really thin, on a bed of greens with Chinese noodles, and it’s great. And bite-size crab rolls served with garlic edamame—a good plate. And I have some cold, seasoned asparagus spears wrapped in provolone and prosciutto with sliced tomatoes on the side—to die for.”

  “Sounds like something you should swat.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “All the usual sandwiches, pizzas, wraps, egg muffins and breakfast burritos.”

  He checked off some items, then turned the page toward her. “You can pick one to try out here, see how it does. Only one experiment a week, Miss Carrie.”

  She checked off the asparagus dish. “Business is good,” she observed. “And something smells good.”

  He jutted his chin over his shoulder. At the end of the bar he had set up a little slow cooker station. Two slow cookers, buns, condiments. “I been trying something new. Fresh barbecue and franks. It’s been moving pretty good.”

  “Great idea,” she said. “I can tell you how to make ribs in the Crock-Pot if you’re interested.”

  “I wouldn’t mind it for the family, but it’s too big a mess in here with the customers. We have enough trouble with barbecue and franks. Can’t imagine what these folks could do with ribs....”

  “Thank you, Jesus,” Landon, the cleaner-upper muttered.

  She let Rawley buy her an iced tea, visited for a while, asked Landon about the baby again and then, having been encouraged by Landon, walked next door to Cooper’s house. She tapped lightly on the door, and Sarah let her in. “What are the chances of a little peek?” Carrie asked.

  “Excellent, she’s awake. Cooper is changing her, and I’m getting her bottle ready. Come in.”

  “Cooper is changing her?” Carrie asked.

  “It’s his turn,” Sarah said. “Sit down at the table while I get this ready.”

  “Where’s Austin?”

  “He’s next door, painting with Spencer.”

  Cooper walked into the kitchen, the baby on his shoulder and Ham close by his side.

  “I see you have protection,” Carrie observed.

  “Every step we take with the baby. Ham might think he’s the father. He hasn’t left her side. We have to beg him to go for a walk,” Cooper said. “Would you like to do the honors?”

  “I would love that!”

  After a nice visit, Carrie took her little beach-mobile back to the town and her deli. She wasn’t planning to work today, but she liked to get things set up for the week. She had to be very well organized—cooking was done in the morning, selling was done from lunchtime till six. She put her list from Rawley in the book and looked at her weekly planner. First thing Monday morning she was going to make some beef kabobs, a large pan of lasagna and some chicken and rice—her deli nuke-able dinners. People were busy these days, many of them working two jobs, and fast meals were in demand. It was a convenience for working people to stop by on their way home to grab a prepared dinner. They often picked up one of her salads or even a sandwich for the next day’s lunch at the same time. Catering was a good business, but the deli items sold over the counter—that was her bread and butter.

  She set up her step stool and climbed to reach the large lasagna pan on the top shelf, and she nearly had it free of the pans stacked inside of it when the stool wobbled. Her hands were holding up pans, so they wouldn’t fall off the shelf, and she lost her balance. To prevent herself from falling like a giant oak, her left leg stepped off the third step of the stool. Her foot went one way, her hips went the other, she heard a pop, and she went down. Flat on her ass. Buried in pans.

  At least they were aluminum, she thought. If they’d been cast iron, she’d be dead. As it was, the only injury seemed to be to her right buttock. Lord.

  When she tried to stand, her left leg wouldn’t hold her. Her knee buckled, and she almost went down again. The pain was excruciating. She could barely put weight on it. At least she no longer felt the pain of her butt.

  In great discomfort, she stacked the fallen pans on the counter in a somewhat organized manner and limped out the front door. She locked up the deli and drove herself home.

  Her day of rest would be enforced.

  Seven

  When Peyton walked into the clinic on Monday morning, Devon was already behind her desk and working at the computer.

  “I should’ve known I wouldn’t beat you,” she said.

  “I got an early start,” Devon said. “I listened to the messages. Carrie James needs to see someone—she says she wrecked her knee. It’s painful and very swollen.”

  “Give her a call, will you, Devon? Tell her we’re open for business. Is Scott coming in?”

  “As far as I know,” she said. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, picking up the schedule and glancing over the names. “Sat on the beach and read for a while, went exploring around the inland towns, had a three-way.” Then she grinned. “Me, Ben & Jerry. It was fabulous.”

  “Whew,” Devon said, dialing the phone. “I thought I was about to learn a few things.”

  “From me? Not likely.”

  Twenty minutes later Peyton was looking at Carrie’s knee. “Wow. I think wrecked is the operative word.” She manipulated it a bit to the patient’s discomfort. “My money is on a meniscus tear, maybe some ACL damage, but you’re going to need an MRI to be sure.”

  “I’ve had trouble with my knees before, but this seems really bad. I take pride in the fact that these problems are usually experienced by athletes, but then my work is just as challenging, if not so competitive,” Carrie said.

  “How’d you do it?”

  Carrie explained her fall off the step stool, twisting her knee painfully, landing buried in pots.

  “Ouch. Did you hurt anything else?”

  “I have a nasty bruise on my butt and upper thigh. It doesn’t hurt, but it is in the shape of Florida.” She turned wide eyes up to Peyton. “What am I going to do? It hurts like the devil. I’ve had my knees and ankles swell before, but this is terrible. It looks just plain scary.”

  “You can get beyond this, but Carrie—you can’t stand in that deli kitchen for ten hours a day on this knee. You’re going to have to rest it.”

  Carrie got an angry look in her eyes. “It’s how I pay the bills.”

  “I assumed so. I’m sorry, but this injury has to be dealt with, and we’ll have to get an orthopedist involved. But in the meantime, I can help with the pain.”

  She was shaking her head. “I don’t want to take a lot of drugs. I don’t like the way they make me feel.”

  “I u
nderstand. I think we might try an injection in the knee. I haven’t done a lot of that, but I bet Scott has.” She looked at her watch. “He’s probably here by now.”

  “Injection?”

  “Steroid. Cortisone. Sometimes it works wonders and can last for weeks.” Peyton leaned close. “You still have to heal it. Rest it and heal it.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll manage.”

  “Get past that panicked voice telling you you’re doomed, and think about a plan. I know you have help in the deli kitchen from time to time. You might have to cut a few things, like the fabulous dinner meals. Oh, I would grieve that! You might have to make do with part-time help for a few weeks. It wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. You’re very fit, young, healthy, strong....”

  “I’m sixty-one!”

  Peyton smiled. “And a powerful woman. My mom is sixty-two, had eight children and works a farm with my dad. She’s like you—she works hard, and her fitness is enviable. But hard work takes its toll sometimes, and for my mom, her back gives her trouble now and then. Holding her down is nearly impossible, but it’s the only thing that works. You have to heal the knee. Let me go see if Scott is in.”

  Scott came into the exam room right away. “So, you want to try the cortisone injection?” he asked.

  “If you think it’ll help,” Carrie said.

  “Can you get yourself over to Bandon for an X-ray? I’d really like a film to be sure the injection is in the perfect site. And even though we’re going to treat this injury conservatively and get you back on your feet, I’d like to set you up with an orthopedist, get an MRI to be sure of the extent of the damage and get his recommendation. We can do that when you’re getting around a little better.”

  “Okay,” she said, clearly dispirited.

  “Listen, if you’re having trouble moving around or driving, I can take an hour off and drive you over there,” Peyton said.

  “I’ll manage,” Carrie said, shifting to get off the exam table.

  “Hold on,” Peyton said. “Let me wrap that knee for support. Devon will call the hospital and arrange for your X-ray. Be sure to bring the films back with you and we’ll get that shot. Before you leave, I’m going to have you take an ibuprofen, and regular doses of that along with ice packs and elevation should get this swelling down.”

  “I need it healed before noon,” Carrie said, her voice very grumpy.

  “I know,” Peyton agreed. “Unfortunately this time it’s up to the knee....”

  * * *

  Peyton had a very busy afternoon in the clinic. Right after Carrie had returned with her X-ray film and received her injection, Scott took off to spend a few hours in the Pacific Hospital ER Before he left, Peyton stole a moment of his time in his office. “By the way, thanks again for dinner last Friday night. I enjoyed that,” she said.

  “So did I. Think you’re going to let me be your friend?” he asked, his tone teasing.

  “I think so. But I’m still leaving after three months.”

  “You’re a hard sell,” he said. “But I understand.”

  “You need an X-ray in here,” she said. “You need quite a few things.”

  “I’ll need money first,” he said. And then he cut out for the day.

  Devon stuck her head into the office to say goodbye. “Need anything before I go?”

  “Nothing at all. I’m going to stay a little while and finish charting, but I won’t be too long.”

  “I’ll lock the front door. You get the lights. See you in the morning.”

  It took the better part of an hour to get nearly caught up, and Peyton found herself wondering what she should do for dinner. Since she couldn’t avail herself of one of Carrie’s premade dinners, she thought she might just wander down to the marina and treat herself to a nice dinner at Cliffhanger’s. She’d only been in there once since moving here, and just for a glass of wine. But she had looked at the menu and had seen a few good possibilities. She looked at her watch; it was nearly six.

  Her cell phone chirped, and she looked at the number. She smiled as she picked up for her friend, Amy, the triage nurse in Ted’s practice. Amy was about Carrie’s age, a seasoned, sixtyish cardiac care nurse who was worth her weight in gold to any heart doctor. Amy had taught Peyton as much as Ted had. And Amy had been her only confidante while she was going through her worst trials with Ted. “Well, hello, my dear,” Peyton said. “How are you?”

  “I’m not the happiest right now, Peyton,” Amy said. “I have to do something I find very distasteful.”

  “Is that so? What’s the matter?”

  “Are you done with work? Are you alone?” Amy asked.

  “I stayed late to finish some charting, but I’m the only one here. I’m just about ready to leave.”

  “I want you to hear this from me because you’re going to hear it eventually. Ted and Lindsey are officially engaged.”

  Peyton felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. In fact, the news threw her back in the chair. When she found her voice, all she could say was, “That took hold awfully quickly. Last I heard, they were barely dating.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Amy said. “As far as I knew, it was a few weeks ago they started dating. Lindsey made sure everyone in the office knew of her status.”

  Ted was forty-two—a seventeen-year age difference. Men did that sort of thing all the time. In their three years together, Peyton had not been engaged to Ted. Of course, he’d talked about making it official. She had been the one with major concerns about that, given his tumultuous home life. “I bet she’s in heaven,” Peyton said.

  “She’s pregnant,” Amy informed her, taking a deep and shaky breath.

  Peyton was really speechless now. The last thing Ted needed was another child to virtually ignore. But he probably needed a babysitter more. “Well, they certainly didn’t waste any time...”

  “Three months pregnant,” Amy added.

  “God.”

  “I’m afraid so, Peyton. I’m sorry. I hate to tell you but I knew that eventually...”

  “He’s a dog,” she whispered. “I’ve been out of his house for less than six weeks!”

  “I know. He’s a dog. He’s also my boss,” Amy said.

  Peyton sighed, lowering her head to her hand. “I learned as I was leaving that Ted had been seeing her while I was still in his life. It was a blow—the one thing I didn’t expect, yet probably should have. I fooled myself that it had been very recent but... You know I won’t say anything. In fact, I will say nothing to him, ever again. You must believe me, Amy, I had absolutely no idea they were involved until the day I left. I wouldn’t have stayed with him a day past knowing he was cheating.”

  “I know, Peyton.”

  And then something occurred to her, and it was very painful. “Did everyone else know? Were they the talk of the office while I was working my ass off in the practice and taking care of his family and sleeping with him at the home we shared? Were they?”

  “There was some chatter about flirting going on, but I didn’t actually hear anything substantial. You know I would have told you, horrible though that would have been for both of us. I saw her flirting, and I warned her that was unprofessional and might not go the way she hoped.”

  Peyton gave a hollow laugh. “Shows what you know.”

  “I’m appalled,” Amy said. “Appalled and angry and embarrassed for him. And if I had a daughter who acted like that, it would be hard not to slap her.”

  “I can hardly criticize,” Peyton said. “I flirted with him. I hope I kept it well away from our working environment, but I don’t know—I was very taken with him. Though, to my knowledge, he wasn’t committed elsewhere at the time. Ted has a lot of faults, but I never suspected him of cheating. And I’m having a hard time believing he’s fool enough to get someone pregnant.”

  “I know. Me, too,” Amy said. “Sometimes he’s a little hard to take, but he has admirable qualities or I wouldn’t have worked with him for so lo
ng. Listen, I know it doesn’t feel so at the moment, but I think you’re lucky things didn’t work out for you with Ted. He has shown his true colors.”

  “Makes one a bit curious, doesn’t it?” Peyton asked. “What if I had wanted to stay? To try again? Would he have come to me to explain about this new baby on the way? Or would he have told me it was time for me to go? Because I left him. And not because I suspected him of cheating.”

  “I can’t even speculate. But he’s in his forties, saddled with some very large alimony and child support, three intolerable kids whom he seems to avoid, though they spend the majority of their time in his home, and I can’t imagine him with another one. I think she tricked him. I think she planned it. She’s a silly little thing. And lazy.”

  “This explains so much,” Peyton said. “When I told Ted I couldn’t live in his house anymore, he dismissed me from the practice. He mentioned giving Lindsey my job, and that’s when I knew. Up to that moment I thought my biggest problem was how to handle his children. I never suspected another woman. Do you suppose there were more?”

  “I never suspected anyone, Peyton,” Amy said. “But I find this horrifying. You’re better off.”

  Dear Amy, Peyton thought. She was quiet for a moment. “My mother would call it a lesson hard learned. She always said those were the most enduring lessons. What a fool I am.”

  “Oh, please,” Amy said. “He’s an unfaithful ass and you call yourself the fool?”

  “Don’t women usually know?”

  “Not always. Obviously!”

  “You’re just biased.”

  “I’m sorry this happened, Peyton,” she said. “And I believe he’s going to regret this. He can’t replace you, you know. And he surely can’t replace you with her!”

  As much as Peyton wished to hear Amy rant about the injustice of it all, the nastiness of Ted and Lindsey’s behavior, she had to end the call so she could think. She was so grateful to be alone, but then Amy was smart enough to know it was likely after hours in the clinic. She had asked before unleashing this bit of news. And all Peyton could think was, I must have been blind, deaf and stupid!