The Promise by Jean Fairfax

Author:Jean Fairfax
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gatekeeper Press

NINE

My mood carried over to the next day. It was compounded by a severe nervous disorder that was affecting my brain. I was tired and hungry, but too upset to eat. I couldn't make up my mind what to wear or how to fix my hair. Generally speaking, I was not ready to go anywhere and didn't even know if I wanted to anymore. Of course, it was all Michael's fault. If he had bothered to call me…if he'd had the common courtesy to return my call last night, I know I'd never have gotten to the emotional state I was in right now.

I considered the thought that his mother might not have given him my message. Even so, he should have called, even if I hadn't called him first. I would have called someone who was supposed to come for lunch, especially if they'd never been over before. I would have had the common courtesy to think that they might feel a little nervous and need to be reassured. I would have been a whole lot more thoughtful and considerate than the way I was being treated. After all, I'm a nice person!

At twelve fifteen I finally gave up and put on a pair of slacks and a shirt. I looked at the chaos in my room and hoped Aunt Beth wouldn't come up while I was gone. I was not at all sure her heart could take the mess I'd made, and I didn't want to be responsible for any harm that seeing it might cause.

I'd put off the inevitable for as long as possible. If I didn't leave now I'd be late. I knew Michael would love that. I'd already realized he had a warped sense of humor about that sort of thing.

As upset as he'd made me for the past week, I had no intention of giving him the pleasure of laughing at me again. Not only would I be on time for lunch, but secretly hoped he choked on it.

I declined a ride from Uncle John because I didn't think I'd be able to carry on any kind of conversation with him. Not even for a few minutes. What I really didn't want was to give my aunt and uncle another reason to think I was a little more off in the head than they already thought.

By the time I got to Michael's house I was shaking so badly it took me three tries before I could get the scooter on its stand. Then it took me several tense minutes before I found the courage to let go of it. As I stood there, wondering whether my legs would support me, I looked at the house. I tried very hard to remember if I'd ever been there before. Nothing about it brought back any memories.

It was a typical New England house, just like most of the older homes I'd seen since I'd been here. The yard was really nice, probably Michael's doing, and the paint was fresh and new looking.

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