Promises to Keep (24 page)
Tom Barrows was downstairs in the easy chair reading the paper. Mom had invited him to have supper with us, and he’d come to our house directly from work. I took his relaxed presence in the living room as a foreshadowing of things to come, and I didn’t like it. But at the moment I was more interested in Mara than in Mom’s questionable future as Mrs. Barrows.
“So come on and tell me what your mom – I mean, Celia – said already,” I pleaded impatiently.
Mara took a deep breath and squeezed her hands together in front of her chest. I knew it was good news because her big brown eyes were shining.
“Mama got in touch with Daddy. She was able to reach him in his office at the university.”
“Yeah?” I leaned forward expectantly.
“And he said he was willing to see me.”
Squealing, we clapped and bounced on the beds. Valerie looked up at us with a frown. “Shh,” she said, one small finger on her lips. “Ginger fell sleep.”
We ignored her and went on squealing. “I can’t believe it!” I cried.
“I can hardly believe it myself.”
“How’s it going to happen?”
“I’ll take the train to Chicago, and he’ll be there at the station to meet me.”
“Really?”
She nodded happily. “That’s what Mama said. Celia, I mean.”
“And then what?”
“And then we’ll go somewhere for lunch and just talk.”
“What about his family? Will they know about it?”
Mara’s rosy lips formed a taut line. “No. He’ll have to lie to them about where he is.”
“But that’s . . .” I almost told her there were all sorts of lies involved whenever I saw my own daddy, but a glance at Valerie stopped me. Daddy was a secret that had to be kept even from my little sister. I changed tracks and asked, “Are you scared?”
Mara nodded again, slowly this time, her small chin moving up and down. “I’m real scared. What if he doesn’t like me?”
“What if you don’t like
him
?”
“Oh, I already know I like
him
. I listen to him twice a week, you know. I already know a lot of things about him, even what his voice sounds like. But he doesn’t know anything about
me
.”
“He will soon. And he’ll like you, Mara. He really will.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh yes. I’m sure he will.”
Her eyes drifted toward the window. She looked thoughtful. “Celia said it’s the first time she’s talked to him since I was born. In the beginning they wrote a few letters, but – ” she paused and shrugged – “then they both got married and all.”
“So how did she know how to find him?”
“Well, they’ve always known the day would come when he would meet me, so he’s made sure Celia knows where he is.”
“She must have been scared to call him, after all this time.”
“Yeah.” Another small nod. “She was scared, all right. She had to go to a phone booth to make the call, otherwise the long-distance number would show up on their phone bill. She was scared Raymond – that’s her husband – would find out what she was doing. She was scared my daddy would say no. She was even scared she’d run out of dimes before they finished talking.”
“But your daddy said yes, and she didn’t run out of dimes.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So doesn’t Raymond know about you?”
“Oh yeah, he knows. He knows I was born to Celia before those two got married. What he doesn’t know is who my daddy is. That’s what Celia doesn’t want him to ever know.”
“So you’ve got to keep it secret.”
“That’s right. One more secret I’ve got to remember to keep.”
By now Valerie was stretched out on the floor, dozing with the doll in her arms. The plastic bottle lay on its side on the floor, having fallen from her grip. I gazed at her a moment, then back at Mara.
“So when are you going?”
“Sometime over Christmas vacation.”
“Do your grandparents know?”
“Yeah, they know. They don’t like it, but I’m going anyway.” We were quiet a moment. Then Mara added, “Listen, Roz, I think this all happened because of the Daddy Deal. I really do. You’ve been praying for me to meet my daddy, praying every day, right?”
I nodded, though I felt a pinch of guilt for the days I had forgotten.
“And now it’s coming true. I’m really going to meet him.”
“I’m glad, Mara,” I said, and I was. Glad that she was going to meet her daddy but envious at the same time.
As though she could sense my envy, she said, “So pretty soon maybe your daddy will decide it’s time to come home.”
“Yeah.” I glanced again at Valerie to make sure she wasn’t listening, but she was breathing that slow, rhythmic breath of sleep. “But it’s got to be soon, or Tom Barrows is going to marry Mom first, and then Daddy won’t have a chance.”
“Are they engaged or something? Your mom and Mr. Barrows, I mean?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“So why do you think your mom’s going to marry him?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that he’s always over here, or they’re always going out somewhere, or else they’re on the phone with each other. It’s like Mom actually likes him or something.”
“Maybe she does.”
“I don’t think so. How could she?”
“Then why’s she seeing him?”
“I don’t know, Mara. I wish I did. No, what I really wish is that he’d just go away. I don’t want him to propose to Mom before Daddy can come back.”
“What about all the stuff I said? You know, like she can’t cook and she snores real bad?”
“He didn’t seem to care. He just kept on coming around.”
Mara raised a hand to her chin and frowned in thought. Her eyes focused on first one thing and then another, finally coming to rest on Valerie.
“You say he doesn’t like children, right?”
“I don’t know whether he likes kids or not, but he doesn’t seem very interested.”
“Well, if he marries your mom, that’ll make him your dad, right?”
I laid a hand across my stomach. “Please, Mara, that’s what I’m trying not to think about.”
She snapped her fingers. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What?”
She hopped off the bed and shook Valerie’s shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I cried. “She’s the worst grump in the world if you wake her up.”
“That’s what I’m banking on.”
“I mean it, Mara. Don’t wake her up. You know how she can scream.”
Mara stopped shaking Valerie’s shoulder and gave me a small, crooked smile. Before I could stop her, she pinched Valerie’s thigh and started the child howling like a banshee.
I put my hands to my head in alarm. “Mara! What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” she said.
“But – ”
She wrestled the kicking, screaming Valerie into a tight stranglehold, then picked her up and floundered till she found her balance. With Valerie’s back to her chest, Mara looked like she had an extra pair of legs flailing in front of her. She gave a nod in my direction and said, “Follow me.”
I followed her out of my room, through the hall, and down the stairs. From the kitchen I heard Mom’s voice calling, “What on earth? Roz, can’t you do something about Valerie?”
Ahead of me Mara said quietly, so Mom couldn’t hear, “Yeah, we’re taking care of everything.”
She marched into the living room, where Tom Barrows sat, his balding hairline visible just above the rim of the newspaper. His stockinged feet were propped up on the footstool, and he was flexing his toes as though his feet were grateful to be loosed from the wingtip oxfords he always wore. He was the typical male, resting after a hard day’s work, waiting for his supper, unalarmed by the screams of a toddler, since childcare, of course, was not his job. He didn’t drop the paper to his lap until Mara was directly upon him, and even then his startled eyes behind the horn-rimmed glasses told me he didn’t quite believe what was happening.
In the next moment he had a tantrum-throwing child in his lap. His arms flew out to his sides as though he didn’t want to touch her, this creature that had suddenly been thrust upon him from out of nowhere.
“What the – ” he cried, throwing out an oath that would have bounced furiously around the room had the word been made of rubber.
“We can’t quiet her down,” Mara explained, speaking loudly over the screams, “so we thought you could try.”
She didn’t stay to see what he would do, but turned and beckoned me to follow. Halfway up the stairs we were rattled by the shriek of “Jannn
isss
!” that shot forth from Tom Barrows’ throat and exploded in the living room.
Mara and I collapsed in my bedroom, doubled over with laughter. We would be in trouble for sure, but I didn’t care. Small price to pay if it would help to rid our family of that nuisance known as Tom Barrows.
“I hardly ever see you, Daddy.”
“I’m sorry, Roz, but it’s too dangerous.”
“What do you mean, dangerous?”
“I mean, I can’t risk being seen. If your mother finds out I’m here, everything will fall apart. She can’t know until the right time.”
“But when’s the right time?”
He shook his head. “You’ve asked me that before, and my answer hasn’t changed. I just don’t know yet, honey.”
We were back in our usual meeting place, the Hot Diggity Dog Café. Daddy had ordered me a banana split, and he was helping me eat it.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“Christmas will be here soon.”
The spoon stopped halfway to Daddy’s mouth, and he looked as though he’d lost his appetite. “I know it will,” he said.
“I don’t guess we’ll all be together on Christmas morning.”
The spoon reached Daddy’s mouth and came out empty. Daddy chewed slowly and thoughtfully before saying, “Now, you know that’s just not possible, Roz.”
“Wally won’t be with us either.”
“Are you sure? Even if he’s in basic training by then, he should be allowed leave for the holidays.”
I shook my head. “In his last letter he said he won’t be home for a while, more than a year, probably. But he said not to worry about him. Mom worries all the time, though. Sometimes I see her crying, even though she pretends like she’s not.”
Daddy dug methodically at the ice cream, like he was looking for buried treasure. I waited, but he wouldn’t look at me. Finally he said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I just want her to be happy, don’t you, Daddy?”
He glanced at me, looked away. “Of course I want her to be happy. That’s what I’m working toward.”
I dipped my spoon in the dish, but my stomach reeled at the thought of another bite. It wasn’t the ice cream making me feel sick; it was what I was about to say to Daddy. I licked my lips and took a deep breath. “I remember . . .”
He looked at me then, his forehead furrowed like a tilled field. “What, Roz?”
“Well, I remember . . . you know, sometimes Mom would cry because of you.”
He tightened at that, like a current of electricity had just run through him. I thought for a second that he might blow up, and I lowered my head to shield myself from the explosion. But instead of getting angry, he flexed his neck and lifted his shoulders in an attempt to untie himself and relax. “I know, Roz,” he said, “but it’s not going to be that way anymore.”
My heart beat wildly and my insides shook, but I forced myself to hold Daddy’s gaze. “Do you promise?”
“Yes.” He frowned and lifted a hand to the side of his face, his fingertips kneading circles over his temple. “I promise. Everything’s going to be different this time. I – Roz, what’s the matter?”
He must have heard me inhale sharply, and undoubtedly my face registered both shock and fear.
Daddy glanced back over his shoulder. “Roz, do you see someone you know?”
I could do little more than nod.
“Listen to me, Roz. Don’t say anything. Just come over here and sit beside me.” He pushed his jacket aside and patted the bench.
Too afraid to breathe, I followed Tom Barrows with my eyes, watching silently as he strode across the café toward our booth. I braced myself for what was about to happen, but instead of coming to the table and confronting Daddy, he stopped at the counter and removed his hat, gloves, and coat. He laid the coat across one of the stools and planted the gloves and fedora on top. With a hitch of his pants, he settled himself on the next stool over. He must have said something to Darlene, because she smiled and nodded and placed a cup of coffee in front of him.
With my gaze still firmly on Tom Barrows, I started to rise, but Daddy stretched a hand across the table to stop me. “Don’t get up,” he said quietly. “Go under the table. That’s it.”
I slid down under the table like I was inching my way under a limbo bar, scooted over the sticky linoleum floor, and popped up on the other side next to Daddy. He put his arm around me, and I nestled there between him and the wall, hidden to Tom Barrows and to anyone else who might happen into the Hot Diggity Dog Café.
I leaned my head into the hollow of Daddy’s shoulder, and he tightened his grip around me. He was strong and solid from years of construction work, but his embrace was just as I remembered: at once tough and tender. I took a long deep breath, savoring the moment. A warmth rose up from Daddy’s skin; the opposing odors of sweat and soap collided and mingled in the fabric of his plaid flannel shirt. With my ear pressed heavily to his chest, I heard the faint echo of his heart, heard the air making its journey through his lungs, in and out, slowly and rhythmically. His life sounds were hypnotic, and in another moment I may have actually drifted off to sleep if Daddy hadn’t interrupted.
“Roz, who is that guy?” he asked, his voice a whisper. “The one who just sat down.”
I hesitated, not wanting to tell him. A teacher, I could say, or the man who lives next door. But then, if Daddy knew, if he realized his position in the family was in danger, maybe he’d come home sooner. Besides, I realized I couldn’t get rid of Tom Barrows on my own. Mom had docked me two weeks’ allowance for dropping Valerie in his lap – a bigger punishment than I’d expected. I could hardly afford to keep annoying the man in an effort to make him go away. So I said, “He’s Mom’s friend.”
His breath stopped. His chest was still. I waited. Then he said simply, “Her friend?”