The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (11 page)

My shoulders slump in disappointment.
She
is
taking his side
. It never really crossed my mind that she would. Then again, that
’
s probably because I didn
’
t want her to. I
’
ve spent all week with the mindset that I
’
m right
—
that getting engaged sooner than later and married before he heads to medical school is the best plan. I still stand by that timeline
—
but I
’
m, apparently, the only one who thinks that way.

“
Oh, honey,
”
she coos as she cups her hands around my cheeks. Her touch draws my eyes back up to meet hers.
“
I know that
’
s not what you wanted to hear. I can tell. The truth is, you can
’
t rush a man into marriage. If he
’
s not ready, you have to be okay with that.
”

Her words sting and the tears that fill my eyes take me by surprise.
“
How could he not be ready? If he doesn
’
t know by now whether or not he wants to marry me, why are we still together?
”

“
Come now, Addison, now you
’
re just being dramatic,
”
she chuckles, pulling me into her arms. I go willingly, knowing she is right.
“
He loves you very deeply
—
just like you love him. Marriage is a big deal, it
’
s a big change, you know that; and you two are still so young.
”

“
You were twenty-two when you got married,
”
I mutter against her shoulder.

“
That
’
s not a very solid comeback, my dear, and you know it. You
’
re still only twenty.
”

“
Only for a few more weeks,
”
I huff.

“
Well, besides that, you know your father. When he makes his mind up about something, it
’
s made up. Beckham is different
—
his goals are different, more grandiose. So maybe it takes you two longer to get down the aisle, that doesn
’
t say a single thing about your relationship, except that you aren
’
t rushing.
”
I groan as I try and push away my stubbornness and let her words sink in. She pulls away from me, just enough to look into my eyes, before she continues.
“
Beck knows your heart. He knows what you want and he isn
’
t telling you no. Beck also knows his own heart. So does God. Above all else, you must know that God has your best interests at heart. I believe you
’
ve snagged yourself a wonderful young man who loves the Lord and walks with Him as faithfully as he can. I can only hope that if he isn
’
t ready, that means God isn
’
t ready for you to be married, either. You
’
ve got to have more trust
—
in Beckham and in the Lord.
”

She
’
s right. I know she
’
s right. I know she
’
s right because while there are still tears in my eyes, I feel calmed by her reminders
—
by the truth. I need to trust that feeling I get in my gut, the one that tells me that if we choose each other, God will bless our union. He already has. I know in my heart that Beckham is a gift so carefully crafted and bestowed. I also need to trust the man that I love
—
trust that his promises are true and that he
’
s looking at marriage from the driver
’
s seat
…
which is exactly where I want him to be, in the role of leader. It
’
s where God has called him to be.
Just because things might not turn out the way that I think they should doesn
’
t mean that I should doubt him.

“
Thanks mom,
”
I murmur, reaching up to dry my cheeks.
“
I needed to hear that.
”

“
You
’
re welcome. You
’
re
always
welcome,
”
she says, giving my shoulders a squeeze.
“
I
’
m here for you any time. Don
’
t forget that God is, too. He wants to hear you confess your fears just as much as I do
—
more
even. When you do, you open the door for Him to take them and replace them with the peace only He can provide.
”

“
Yeah,
”
I sigh. I understand what she
’
s saying, but I also know there is one other person who can make me feel better about the whole situation, if I just allow myself to be completely honest with him.
Tomorrow. I
’
ll make sure we talk about it tomorrow.

I had every intention of leaving Fort Collins right after my last class. I told my mom she could except me around six
—
but it
’
s a little after seven when I pull in front of our house. There
’
s a reason I
’
m late. I
’
ve been distracted thinking about it the whole drive. Still, I can
’
t help but spend another minute behind the wheel lost in my thoughts.

Grayson comes home with me quite often. Unless it
’
s the middle of football season, if I
’
m headed home for the weekend, so is he. He doesn
’
t have any family of his own
—
well, not family by blood that he wishes to associate with
—
but he
’
s practically been adopted by my parents. So, when he told me he wasn
’
t planning on leaving town with me this weekend, I was a little surprised. Then I found out that Mrs. Davis was going to be in town. Upon hearing the news that Jack
’
s mom was going to be around, I was kind of disappointed that I wouldn
’
t be. We love it when Jack
’
s mom comes to visit
—
mostly because she
’
s always in our kitchen hooking us up with homemade meals like none-other. Seriously, I don
’
t know how anything so delicious could come out of our small kitchen, but she never fails to deliver.

Jackson
’
s family lives in Georgia so it
’
s a bit of a trek for his mom to come out. I thought it was kind of odd timing, considering finals week is coming up and it would have made more sense for her to come out the following week, but I didn
’
t really think too much about it. Then, just when I was getting ready to leave the apartment, Jackson offered the explanation I wasn
’
t anticipating. He asked me to stay for a minute longer and called Gray into the room so that he could make his announcement.

He
’
s going to propose to Claire.

The Davis family is pretty well off. Jackson is fortunate enough to be a trust-fund baby. Yet, despite where he comes from, you would never really know. He
’
s not completely void of arrogance, he knows he
’
s good at football and he
’
s never been afraid to brag about it
—
plus, he
’
s pretty confident about his looks
—
but he
’
s also very humble. Anyone whose met his mother would know why. He
’
s studying business, because he intends to work for his family
’
s company after he graduates, but he
’
s been given the freedom to do what he wants and where he wants until it
’
s time for him to buckle down and get to work; that
’
s how he ended up in Colorado
—
he wanted to play football and he wanted out of Georgia.

In any case, he
’
s ready to buy a ring and his mom is coming to help him spend the large amount of money he intends to drop on said ring. As far as timing is concerned, he wants to propose next weekend, just after finals. Claire is also not a Colorado native, but unlike Jackson, she won
’
t be sticking around for the summer. She
’
ll be in Arizona with her family for the next couple of months and Jack wants to be engaged before she leaves.

My first thought was:
oh, crap.

My second thought was:
oh, crap!

My third thought was:
what is Addison going to say?

Jackson and Claire have been together for less than two years. Addison and I have been together for almost five. I can
’
t wrap my head around the fact that Jack is ready to be engaged because
I
’
m
not. I don
’
t know what it feels like to be sure. Whenever I think about getting married, I feel anxious and afraid. Not because I don
’
t love Addie, but because marriage is a big deal.

It wasn
’
t until Grayson stood up and congratulated Jackson with a hug that I realized I was also excited for him. I delivered a congratulatory hug of my own before Jack dived into details about when, where, and how he plans to propose. I don
’
t know how I did it, but I managed to pay attention to him and encourage him until I insisted that I had to go. As soon as I was in my car, though, I was consumed by this heavy feeling in my gut. It
’
s how I feel even now.

As I step out of my vehicle, I ask myself,
Why am I not ready to get married?

I enter the house through the front door and smell pizza. I follow my nose to the kitchen and spot my mom at the sink. I smile to myself as I watch her load the dishes from dinner into the dishwasher. Her dark brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she
’
s wearing a pair of jeans and a blue blouse I know matches the color of her eyes. As I make my way toward her, I walk lightly and set my backpack down. She
’
s humming to herself, which makes me smile even more as I draw closer.

My mom is a few inches shorter than I am. She
’
s curvy and soft
—
which she blames on Kenzie and me
—
and she complains about her broad hips and laments over the loss of her flat belly sometimes. She might be self conscious about her body, but I love it
—
she
’
s always been so warm and comforting. When I look at her, all I see is my mom. She
’
s the most dedicated mother I
’
ve ever met.

I know I have taken her for granted over the years. She
’
s a stay-at-home mom and having her around all the time growing up was a blessing I didn
’
t appreciate as much as I should have. I don
’
t know that I will ever be able to; it
’
s hard to imagine having a mom who works away from home because I never had to experience that.