Promises to Keep (11 page)

Read Promises to Keep Online

Authors: Jane Green

BOOK: Promises to Keep
5.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
She and Lila had been shopping in the city when they passed a jewelry store.
“Let’s just go in and have a look,” Lila said. “Maybe I can try on engagement rings.”
“Engagement rings? Really?” Callie’s face lit up. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Not yet,” Lila said happily. “But I’m pretty sure this is it.”
Once in the shop, while Lila was happily lining up enormous diamonds on the third finger on her left hand, Callie stopped short when she saw these earrings; she had fallen in love.
“Maybe Reece would get them for you for your birthday?” Lila barely looked up from the enormous pear sparkling away.
“He’d never spend this sort of money,” Callie grumbled, reluctantly handing them back.
“Couldn’t you have bought them for yourself?” Lila asked after they had left and Callie was continuing to talk about them. “I thought you were doing really well with the photography.”
“I am,” Callie said sadly. “But that’s college money for the kids. Not my frivolous jewelry money.”
“There was nothing frivolous about those earrings,” Lila said.
“How would you know? You barely took your eyes off the engagement rings to notice.”
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry. But I did see them, and now we both have something to aspire to.”
 
“I love you.” Callie’s eyes fill with tears as she puts the earrings on, admires them in the mirror—they are just as beautiful as they were the first time she saw them—and walks over to the bed, where Reece is now lying. She leans over to kiss him.
“I love you,” he says, drawing back to look her in the eyes, to make sure she knows just how much, and he kisses her again, pulling her on top of him and slipping the robe gently, but firmly, off her shoulders.
Callie finishes her makeup with a dash of clear gloss, smacks her lips together, then twists her hair up behind her head, securing it with a large, glittery clip.
“You look beautiful.” Reece comes up behind her and kisses her neck, and she smiles at him in the mirror.
Eleven years, she thinks, and she loves him as much today as the day she married him. No, not as much. More. Her love for him has deepened and strengthened, and there has never been a moment when she has doubted him, or their relationship, or thought that the grass may be greener somewhere else.
Their relationship is, in many ways, an anomaly. None of her friends fully understand it. With him away so much, there must be problems, they figure. She must be so lonely. Poor Callie, having to do so much on her own.
The distance, she thinks, is precisely what makes it work. The fact that they are two independent, self-sufficient people who love each other, but do not spend their lives thinking they desperately
need
each other, is what makes their partnership stronger.
Callie is the love of Reece’s life, and he of hers. When he is traveling she is thrilled. She gets to organize Girls’ Nights Out with her closest friends, or crawl into bed at eight p.m. with Eliza—shh, don’t tell anyone—and watch silly movies and eat popcorn and chocolate for dinner.
And when he comes home she is thrilled to see him, marveling at how handsome she still finds him. She looks at him across a room and feels her heart flutter, filled with a sweet smugness that he is hers.
She loves his smell, his touch, his taste. Often, during the night, when he is fast asleep and she is restless, tossing and turning, she will lean over and kiss his shoulder or his arm. He will not wake up, but even in his sleep he will reach for her and stroke her hand, before falling deeper into sleep.
They have never been the couple to sleep spooned together. Callie can’t sleep spooned together. But she likes knowing he’s there, watching him when he is sprawled, like a little boy, legs splayed across the blankets.
L
ila peers out of the window, waiting for Steffi to arrive.
“Christ,” she mutters out loud. “I love her like she’s my own sister, but why is she always so damned late?”
“She’ll be here.” Ed calls from the hallway, where he’s setting up the bar. “Do you want me to slice the lemons and limes for the drinks?”
“You’re the best,” Lila says and smiles at him. “My big lovely Waspy man.” She walks over to him and puts her arms around his waist.
“Will you stop calling me Waspy?” He looks down at Lila. “I’m English. It’s different. We don’t have Wasps there.”
“But you still are,” she says. “That’s why you’re in charge of the alcohol.”
“What?” He pulls back, confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Wasps drink, Jews eat. Okay, so not Wasps—Christians, whatever. Non-Jews, okay? Jews don’t do alcohol. Not well. Have you ever been to a Jewish wedding?”
Ed shakes his head. Lila never fails to make him smile with her stories and her forthrightness.
“I’m telling you, it’s all about the food, never about the alcohol. You’re lucky if you get a glass of kosher wine. At my cousin’s son’s bris the table almost collapsed there was so much food, and when someone suggested proposing a toast, my cousin suddenly realized she’d forgotten to order anything to drink.”
“So what did you do?”
“Milk and water. That was all she had.”
“Well at least we’ll be okay with the food tonight,” Ed says.
“If Steffi ever gets here. Even if she doesn’t I’ve made enough hors d’oeuvres to feed a small advancing army of hungry teenage boys. I can’t help it,” she adds with a shrug. “It’s hardwired into my genes.”
“You make me laugh,” Ed says affectionately, reaching down and kissing her. “I think you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met.”
“But do you
fancy
me?” Lila uses the English expression that she always finds so amusing.
“I fancy you rotten.” He raises an eyebrow and gestures upstairs.
“Ew!” Lila pushes him away. “You can’t seriously be suggesting we run upstairs for a quickie in my best friend’s house while we’re getting ready for her surprise party and her eight-year-old and six-year-old are downstairs watching TV?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” He laughs.
“Well the answer is no. But if you behave well you may get lucky later tonight . . .” She reaches up and pulls him down for a kiss, just as they hear the sound of a car.
Lila looks out of the window. “Yay, she’s finally here. But Jesus Christ, what the hell is
that
?”
 
“This is Fingal,” Steffi pants, pointing to the huge, skinny but shaggy, horse-like animal standing next to her. “I have him for the weekend.”
“You haven’t rescued another creature that will be sent off to one of your mom’s poor friends again, have you?” Lila looks suspiciously at her after releasing her from a giant bear hug. “Because I think your mom may not do it again.”
“No, I haven’t. He’s really not mine. He belongs to a customer. I’m thinking of maybe dogsitting him while his owner goes to London, so I’m just taking him for this weekend to see if we like each other.”
“What is he?” Lila asks. “He’s enormous.”
“If I’m not mistaken, that’s a Scottish deerhound.” Ed walks over and bends down to give Steffi a kiss, then scratches Fingal behind the ears. A delighted Fingal leans into Ed for more attention. “They’re wonderful dogs. Very aristocratic.”
“That’s not a dog, that’s a pony,” Lila says cautiously.
“He’s very mellow.” Steffi leads him in. “Surprisingly easy.”
Lila peers out toward the car. “Where’s Rob?”
“Not here.”
“Uh-oh. Everything okay?”
“Not really.” Steffi walks over to the sofa at one end of the kitchen and points to it. “Load up,” she says to Fingal, who leaps up and curls into a surprisingly compact ball, then rests his head elegantly on his paws to survey the room.
“That’s impressive,” Lila says.
“I know!”
“So . . . Rob.”
“Men,” Steffi mutters, quickly shooting an apologetic glance at Ed. “Sorry. Not all men, obviously.”
“Men named Rob?” Ed offers.
“Exactly. So I’m mad at him because he brought all his stoner friends back the other night and when the munchies hit they ate all the chili I’d made for tonight, and then he never even apologized but just said if I wanted to save food for something I should keep it in the fridge at work.”
Lila shakes her head in disgust.
“I told him about the chili and he said he didn’t remember, so I said that was because he was so stoned all the time the weed had fried the few brain cells he had left, because, God knows, guitarists weren’t exactly known for their intellectual prowess.”
“You said that?” Lila is horrified.
“Well, yeah. I was mad.”
“Is that true?” Ed muses. “I always thought it was drummers who weren’t known for their intellectual prowess. A lot of the famous guitarists are actually quite brilliant. Look at Queen. And Coldplay. They’re all university educated and very bright.”
Steffi is looking at Ed as if he is nuts, while Lila gazes at him adoringly. “Isn’t he wonderful?” she says to Steffi, who nods quickly.
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t know any drummers. Or any other guitarists. It was just one of those stupid things I said because I was mad.”
“And that was how the fight started?”
“Uh-huh. And then . . .” She looks sheepish for a moment. “Then I brought Fingal home.”
“Let me guess. You hadn’t told him.”
“Only because I knew he’d say no!” Steffi says plaintively.
Ed starts to laugh. “Oh! So that makes it all right then!”
“And, um, whose apartment is it exactly?”
“Ours,” Steffi says petulantly.
“How long have you lived there?” Lila pushes.
“Four months.”
“And how long has Rob lived there?”
“Twelve years,” Steffi mumbles.
“I’m sorry,” Lila cups her hand around her ear, “I can’t hear you.”
“TWELVE YEARS. Okay, okay, I get it. It’s his apartment and I didn’t ask and I know he hates dogs.”
“He what?” Lila stares at her in disbelief. “Did you just say he hates dogs?”
“Well . . . yeah.”
“Does he like small ponies, by any chance?”
“Not really. He doesn’t like any animals.”
Ed shrugs. “You know what they say, never tr—”
“Yes! I know! So that’s the point. I brought Fingal home knowing it would make him even madder, and now we’re on a break.”
“Oh sweetie. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay. I’m better than okay. Frankly I’m relieved. I’m fed up with not being able to sleep because he’s sitting around the apartment with all his friends practising riffs until six in the morning.”
“When does he sleep?” Ed is intrigued.
“Daylight hours. It’s like being married to a goddamned vampire.”
“Doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fun, I have to say,” Ed concurs.
“It’s not.”
“So . . . have you found yourself another apartment yet?”
“No. I’m going to stay with a friend for a few days, but there’s another thing.”
“Uh-oh. Why does my heart feel like sinking again?”
“No, it’s nothing bad. It’s just that the guy who owns Fingal also has this cottage in Sleepy Hollow, and it’s empty, and he said I could stay there. I’m kind of thinking that I’m a bit done with the city, so I was wondering about going out there for the winter.”
“Steffi?” Lila says sternly. “Without wishing to sound like your father, when the hell are you ever going to settle down?”
Chili
Ingredients
1 green pepper
½ large white onion
2 cups baby carrots
3 cloves garlic
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon chili powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
½ teaspoon Jamaican allspice (or any other kind—I just happened to have that)
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon paprika
½ teaspoon turmeric
1 pound minced chicken/turkey (for meat eaters)
2 small cans kidney beans
1 small can black beans
1 large can chopped tomatoes
Dash of Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon fresh cilantro

Other books

Last Ghost at Gettysburg by Paul Ferrante
The Curious Steambox Affair by Melissa Macgregor
Foul Play by Janet Evanovich
Still Life in Brunswick Stew by Larissa Reinhart
River Girl by Charles Williams
Jacob Have I Loved by Katherine Paterson
Some Like It Lethal by Nancy Martin
A Charming Wish by Tonya Kappes