Promises to Keep, Nan Rossiter [feel good fiction books .txt] 📗

piece of pie—which had turned out to be amazing—and made her way up the dark path. When she reached the porch steps, though, she was startled to see Gage sitting in one of the old Adirondack chairs with a whiskey tumbler in his hand and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the table.

“Hey,” she said.

He reached up and pulled an earbud out of his ear, but didn’t say anything.

“What happened? Why didn’t you come to my parents’ house?”

He swirled his glass and took a sip.

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I’ve been worried.”

“Yeah?” he said, his voice edged with sarcasm.

Maeve felt her heart pound. “Gage, what’s wrong?”

He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “You should know what’s wrong.”

“Well, I don’t,” she replied, hoping his odd behavior wasn’t because of Mason. “So just say it.”

“How come you didn’t tell me, Maeve?” he asked. “We’ve been together for two years and you never thought that you should mention that you have a son?”

“I wanted to mention it, Gage, but I worried about how you might take it.”

“And how’s that?”

“Like this,” she said, setting the plate on the table and sitting in the chair opposite him, eyeing the level of whiskey in the bottle.

Gage shook his head, drained his glass, and refilled it.

“It happened a long time ago,” she said. “It has nothing to do with us.”

“It has everything to do with us.”

Maeve shook her head. “I don’t know why,” she said defensively. “Giving up my son was a decision I made when I was eighteen—I was young and scared. I didn’t know what to do. All I knew was my whole future lay ahead of me and I wasn’t ready to have a child, but on one foolish night, I drank too much . . . and I . . . I didn’t even know the guy’s last name. . . .”

Gage raised his eyebrows. “Oh, wow, that makes me feel so much better.”

“I suppose you were a virgin when we met.”

“That’s not it, Maeve,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “It has nothing to do with who came before. Don’t you get it?”

“No, I guess I don’t,” she replied.

Gage swirled his glass and didn’t say anything, but when the haunting call of a loon broke the silence, he shook his head. “How ironic.”

Maeve pressed her lips together. “Gage, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you. It happened such a long time ago—long before I knew you. I would never do anything to hurt you . . . and I don’t understand why you can’t forgive me.”

Gage pressed his lips together, carefully considering his words. “The summer before I went away to college, I fell head over heels in love with a girl who I would’ve done anything for, and even though we were young, I honestly thought we would spend the rest of our lives together. I had it all planned—I even started saving for an engagement ring . . . and then, one summer night, I happened to be looking for her . . . and I found her . . . behind a barn, half-undressed with another boy.” He paused and took another sip. “I was devastated, and I vowed I’d never let myself get hurt again. And that’s how I moved forward—I never let anyone get too close. I never let anyone in. . . .” He searched her eyes. “Until I met you. You were different, Maeve. You were down-to-earth, funny, sweet and—most of all—I came to trust you completely. I felt blessed to have you in my life.” He looked up. “Maeve, I honestly felt like I could spend the rest of my life with you, but now, I can’t seem to wrap my mind around why you didn’t tell me about this. You have to admit, it’s kind of a big deal—what you went through . . . you know, having a child and giving it up for adoption. In my book, that’s a pretty major life experience, and yet—for whatever reason—you failed to mention it, and now, I sort of feel like I don’t really know who you are . . . or what other secrets you might be keeping.”

“There are no other secrets,” Maeve whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I guess I was more afraid of what you’d think of me for giving him up.”

Gage shook his head. “I feel like not being forthcoming and completely honest isn’t a good foundation to build a relationship on.”

“In my defense,” Maeve said softly, “you haven’t been completely forthcoming, either.”

Gage raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t kept any secrets. What you see is what you get.”

“That’s not true,” Maeve countered, shaking her head. “I know very little about your family . . . or why they aren’t part of your life, and every time I ask you, you change the subject.”

Gage swirled his drink, took a sip, and looked away, and Maeve could see tears glistening in his eyes. Had she just said the wrong thing again? Had she just hammered the last nail in the coffin?

Gage bit his lip, as buried memories from his youth swirled to the surface. He swallowed. “Do you want to know what happened?” he asked in a voice that sounded bitter.

“Only if you want to tell me,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, refilling his glass. He swirled the golden liquid, and then began to haltingly share the memory of the night in the barn that always played in his mind when he thought about his father.

When he finished, he shook his head. “I know my dad was worried about our cow—I was, too. She was this beautiful reddish-brown Ayrshire and I’d shown her many times. We’d won countless blue ribbons together, but that night, she was having a really hard time. I asked my dad if he wanted me to call our vet, but he said if he needed to get by without my help, he may as well get started, so I went back in the house. A little while later, I heard a commotion and I looked out to see my brother Matt silhouetted in the barn doorway motioning for Doc Jacobs and