Finding Promise (The Promise Series, A Small Town Romance) (10 page)

It was the first time since coming to Promise that she’d
been alone at the house. Sitting down on the steps leading to the porch, she
sent another text. This one was to her parents. She hadn’t really spoken to
them since she left New York, now over a month ago. At first, she did call,
wanting to reassure them that she was okay. She could have saved herself the
energy. As soon as her parents realised that it was her on the phone, they
immediately began to criticize and lecture her as though she was a runaway,
delinquent teenager instead of a twenty-six year old woman. As she hung up on
the last phone call, she heard her father’s stern voice telling her that she’d
never make it on her own and that he wasn’t worried as she’d be back, with her
tail between her legs, soon enough.

That phone call had been the cathartic push and she
shattered. Did they have so little faith in her? Weren’t parents supposed to
believe in you and encourage you to fulfil your dreams? It hurt immeasurably.
On hearing those harsh words from her father, her memory simultaneously
conjured up all the arguments and criticism she’d been subjected to during her
marriage to James. Caroline had finally broken down, sobbing until she ran out
of tears. That’s when she realized that she had to heal, to persevere and she
had to do it alone.

With a headache from hell because of all the crying, she had
pushed the self-pity away and decided that come hell or high water, she had
something to prove. She wanted to make it on her own; she had to. No matter
what, she did not want to go back to them.

It was already a few minutes since she’d sent the text
telling her parents that she was fine and settling into a small town. She told
them that she was happy and re-building her life. She told them to know not to
worry about her and that she loved them. As always, they did not respond to the
text just as they did not respond to any of the previous texts that she had
sent.

In the quiet of the garden, her mind wondered back. During
the infamous phone call, her father’s words were nearly word for word the same
words that James had used every time they’d had a fight about his affairs.
Initially, he was defensive and denied that he was unfaithful. Back then, he
would make an effort to come home a bit earlier from the office after she had
confronted him. Eventually, even this stopped. He stopped denying it and hiding
it from her. He never flaunted it, though. A Lowell was never indiscreet. But,
he had never denied it. He left the evidence for her to find. There was a
credit card receipt for a dinner at a romantic restaurant, tickets for two to
the opera, the classic lipstick on his shirt collar and many others.

After this came the emotional abuse. That had hurt so much
that she remembered wishing that he had slapped her instead. At least then
she’d have evidence of the abuse. The thing about emotional abuse was that
because it was so subtle, more subtle than physical abuse, it left you
alternating between feeling crazy, wanting to believe that you were imagining
things and feelings of worthlessness. Like other forms of abuse, you start
believing what you heard about yourself. She had felt unloved and lonely. He
made her believe that she was the cause of his extra-marital affairs because he
said that she was flighty and foolish. He blamed her lack of response in bed
for seeking his pleasure elsewhere. What hurt the most was that by denying her
this intimacy, he was also denying her children. Feeling undesirable, the
thought of having an affair herself had never crossed her mind. She had longed
for children. She still did but as she didn’t want to have a relationship with
a man in the good foreseeable future, she didn’t think that having children was
likely, unless she adopted. Just having bought a house, though, and knowing
that she had a lot of work to do to find herself first, she felt that she had
enough to cope with.

She knew that her relationship with James and her parents has
fed her insecurities. She knew it because she had read up on emotional abuse
and she could tick the boxes that indicated its presence. She just didn’t know
how to get over it. Blinking away the moisture from her eyes, she stood up,
admonishing herself for going back there. Better to just push it all away and
focus on what’s now. 

Taking a deep breath, she relished the slight salty taste of
the ocean in the air. Despite the journey, she was happy with her destination.
Standing on her porch, she enjoyed the sight of the deep blue water spread in
front of her, finding calm in its calm. It was late afternoon and the sun was
half hidden on the horizon.

It would be dark soon and Caro’s place, she thought with a
grin, still didn’t have the power connected, so she had better be off. At least
she could get started now. She couldn’t wait to move in. She knew she had to
wait. Luke had explained the process to her but she was finding it difficult to
just be idle until Luke could get started on the refurbishment work as they’d
planned. There was a lot of cleaning to do but no point in doing it until the
work was done, at least in some areas, as it would just get dirty again. She’d
already bought furniture, appliances and things that she’d need in her place,
so that was taken care of. Once the place was done, it was just a matter of
moving the stuff in. Sure, she still had to get the power reconnected, a phone
line put in, cable and so forth but that was probably a day’s worth of work and
nothing that would get her stuck into it. That’s it! It was so obvious! Dirt.
Garden. She could start the work on the garden. She’d been so preoccupied with
the house that she’d thought little of the garden and what she would do there,
not since her chat with Shelly at the garden centre. The garden was so big and
overgrown that it was a big project on its own. Luke would be able to tell her
where they’d be working so that she could stay out of their way.

Excited, those bad memories momentarily folded away, she
snatched up her car keys, looking forward to visiting the garden center the
next day. The honking of horns and slam of car doors startled her, chasing away
her thoughts. At the gate, bearing gifts and grins were her friends.

“Hi. What are you guys doing here? This is a lovely
surprise!” Caroline was glad for the distraction from her poignant memories.

“We knew you’d be here and wanted to help you her celebrate
officially becoming a Promise resident.” Bess announced carrying pizza into the
house, the boxes split between her and Rachel, who trudged along up the steps.

Faith, carrying cans of soda looked at Caroline with raised
brows, “You didn’t think that we’d let you mope around this place by yourself
tonight, did you?”

“My bad. I’m sorry, I should’ve known better but I really
didn’t expect this. I’m touched. Thank you.” Caroline stared as Ronald laid a
blanket on the floor of the lounge.

“Nothing to it, sugar. Welcome to Promise.” Faith leaned in
and gave Caroline a friendly peck on the cheek.

Luke followed suit with a quick peck on the lips and a
gruff, “Welcome, sugar.” He said, mimicking his sister before setting down
paper plates, napkins and lighting candles around the room.

It was a certain kind of madness comprised of chaos and
being exceptionally busy. Men traipsed about inside the house, on the roof of
the house and around the house. Masculine voices, the sounds of grinding,
sanding and clomping boots dominated the day from early morning until late
afternoon. Caroline could handle being busy. As soon as she got the keys to her
place, there was a long list of tasks to see to like getting the water and
power connected, installing a phone, finalizing the various delivery dates and
had begun working on the garden. But, even though Luke had warned her, she
grudgingly admitted to underestimating the chaos created by building repair
work.

True to his word, Luke and his crew had finished her
bedroom, the en-suite bathroom and the kitchen first. She had moved in there within
the week and now, had a living area of sorts. Even with all the commotion, it
was preferable to continued living in an inn room. As lovely as the inn was,
there was a certain sense of freedom derived from living in one’s own space.

She smiled that knowingly manipulative smile of a woman.
Recollecting the response the Edwards had to her chocolate éclairs, she’d
persuaded the inn’s chef once again to allow her to bake in his kitchen. As a
result, she gave the building crew a batch of fresh baked goods every second
day when they initially started. Of course, she didn’t feel right using the
inn’s kitchen without saving some of her baked treats for the Edwards, Bess and
Ronald. Their flattery on receipt of the goods made her feel special and
talented. Well, at least I know that I really can bake; she reviewed,
unwittingly her own harshest critic now. Raving about her baking skills, the
crew had been motivated to see to the kitchen in no time at all. The poor
dears, thinking it odd that such a bunch of big, burly men could be so easily
manipulated, she was now resolved to bake for them every other day. She didn’t
mind. She found that she loved feeding others when they appreciated what she
made so much. Besides, the reward of the kitchen was worth it. Luke had given
her a knowing smirk while stuffing his face with a chocolate chip muffin, as
she watched the crew work in the kitchen. “Remind me to hire you to bake for
the next job,” he whispered in her ear before sauntering off, ignoring her show
of faked indignation, while she ignored the tingles up her spine at the feel of
his warm breath on her ear.

Surveying her room as she made up the bed, she was satisfied
with how she had decorated her room. Pretty white cotton sheets, decorated with
a spray of light pink flowers on the edge of the duvet and a single flower on
each pillow, suited the cherry wood four-posted bed perfectly. A mauve throw
was a dramatic accent, strewn over the end of the bed. In the corner of the
room, an oversized wingback chair was strategically positioned, and stuffed
with pillows in white, mauve and the same light pink that graced the duvet.
Next to it stood around cherry wood occasional table, uncovered but for a white
lamp and a couple of books she’d bought in town. It was made for snuggling up
and reading. Her cupboard, the clothes no longer in suitcases and unpacked into
them, was a slightly darker wood and matched the color of the bedside tables.
She was also happy with her bathroom. Having decided against bringing more
color into the bathroom, it was white with barely noticeable touches of lilac
and wheat colored accents. This suited it better and gave the space a clean,
light feeling. She’d enjoyed the bath last night, filled to the top with
bubbled, jasmine scented water, candles flickering in the dark and listening to
Michael Bublé singing about Mrs Jones.

It wasn’t the same living here by herself. In the apartment
that she’d shared with James, she had spent a lot of evenings alone and never
experienced the same sense of serenity. Evenings in the house were markedly
different to the daytime bustle brought upon by the building crew. With them
gone, it was quiet and peaceful; the only sounds were that of the ocean, a
constant lull in the background.

“Hello…. Caroline, are you here?” Going to investigate, she
saw Laurel with about four other ladies standing in the hallway.

“What a lovely surprise! Hi, I’m Caroline.” She was pleased
to see Laurel. Giving her a hug to say hello, she greeted the other ladies.

“I’m Stella and this is Jo, Patsy and Becca.” Stella nodded
to the other women, all holding dishes in their hands. You know Laurel of
course.” Stella, a matronly woman, about Laurels age, pushed a dish into
Caroline’s hands. “Here, we’ve come to welcome you to Promise. We’ve all had a
bit of renovation work done in our time. It can make cooking really hard. So,
we thought that you could use a bit of help. And of course, we we’re just plain
nosy too.”

“You’re nosy. I’m welcoming.” Jo came forward. “Honey, show
us where we can put these. My arms are about to fall off.”

“That’s because she uses cement in the tuna casserole.”
Becca chirped, making the women laughed.

Patsy, a by-blow from the fifties, a big shapely bob and
horn-rimmed glasses, stepped forward, “Hi Caroline. Patsy.” She shook
Caroline’s free hand. “I’m just plain nosy and proud of it.”

Laughing, Caroline offered, “Please come on in. I’m afraid
that the only part of the house that’s habitable is the kitchen.” Thanking the
Lord that the big pine table and chairs had arrived yesterday, she ushered them
into the kitchen. “Oh my, what’s all this?” She asked looking at the kitchen
table. It was flooded with containers of food. She mentally thanked the Lord
again for the fridge that arrived yesterday too.

“Looks like some folk beat us to it!” Laurel declared
spotting the cornucopia of food on the table. “It’s the town welcoming you,
dear.” She handed Caroline a large brown envelope. “Let’s see what you got.”

It was a great selection. An old hammer had a ribbon around
it with a note saying, “My husband never uses this and I figured you’d need
it.” They all laughed and an amused Stella added, “I bet that’s Frank’s wife,
Beth. She’s always complaining how he never does anything around the house.
Frank’s a carpenter. He works down at the harbor, fixing boats.” She explained
to Caroline. “I guess it’s true what they say about the cobbler’s kids that
never had any shoes.”

“Is that true for Luke too?” Caroline asked Laurel,
wondering what his place was like. She’d already been to Faith’s flat. It was a
cute little two bedroom above the pharmacy in Main Street. Bess and Ronald
rented it out to her, not needing the space.