Vow to Cherish Read online

  Kyle winked at them as he came up the aisle with a bounce in his step.

  And with that, the last little bird was pushed from the nest.

  Chapter Two

  Ellen kicked off her shoes with a weary but satisfied sigh and slouched into a plump, overstuffed chair in the living room. From her perch, she could see through to the brightly lit kitchen. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes, the countertops were littered with half-empty glasses and crumpled napkins, and the floor was a collage of sticky spills and crumbs.

  The last of the guests had just left Kyle’s graduation party, and the rest of the family had retreated to the deck in the backyard, leaving Ellen in the quiet but messy house. It had been a wonderful party, and Ellen didn’t begrudge the work she had ahead of her. But she was exhausted.

  The back door swung open and Jana appeared in the doorway. Boisterous male voices drifted in on the night air. The men of the family were in a heated discussion about the predicted outcome of a postseason tournament.

  Jana caught her mother’s eye and rolled her own eyes toward the ceiling. “There’s way too much testosterone out there,” she declared. A burst of raucous laughter from the deck was cut off abruptly as she closed the door behind her.

  Ellen laughed. “Well, you’d better decide which is worse. Testosterone out there, or a sink full of dirty dishes in here.”

  Jana looked the kitchen over. “Ugh! Tough choice.” But she pushed up her sleeves and came over to where Ellen sat. “Okay…” She took her mother by both hands and playfully hauled her out of the chair. “Let’s get this over with.” They walked into the kitchen arm in arm.

  Together they cleared off the counters; then Ellen rinsed the dishes while Jana loaded the dishwasher.

  “I’m glad you and Mark decided to stay overnight,” Ellen said, handing Jana an oval platter that had held sandwiches an hour earlier.

  “Oh sure,” Jana teased. “You’re just happy to have help with the dishes.”

  Ellen smiled. “Well, that, too. But seriously, I know it means a lot to Kyle to have you and Mark here tonight.”

  “I’m glad we stayed, too, Mom. It’s been a fun evening. We would have been too tired to drive back tonight anyway.”

  The two worked in comfortable silence for a while. Then Jana turned to Ellen. “Didn’t Kyle look cute up there tonight? I just can’t believe my baby brother has graduated!”

  “I know. I can’t believe my baby boy is headed to college.”

  Just then Kyle popped in through the back door.

  Ellen winked at Jana. “And speaking of my baby, here he is, just in time to help with the dishes.”

  Kyle did an abrupt about-face and tried to escape through the still-open door. But his sister grabbed him by the arm and dragged him, kicking and howling, back into the house. Ellen watched their lighthearted exchange wistfully. It was so good to have everyone home together—just like old times.

  The rest of the men straggled in from outdoors. John came up behind Ellen at the sink and rubbed her aching shoulders.

  Her hands still in dishwater, she closed her eyes, relishing the massage. “Mmm…Don’t stop…that feels great. But you guys picked a bad time to come in.” She lifted a hand from the warm water and tossed a damp dishrag over her shoulder in Brant’s direction. “Here…Wipe that counter off, will you?”

  Brant wadded the rag into a wet ball and threw it at Kyle, who, in turn, lobbed it across the room to Mark. Even John got in on the game of “hot potato” until things got so rowdy that Ellen—only half kidding—scolded them. “Hey, you guys! Cut it out!”

  John took charge. “Come on, guys. Let’s help your mother out. It’s been a long day.” He motioned to the dining room. “Brant, will you get those leaves out of the table? And, Kyle, you can carry these folding chairs out to the garage.”

  They cooperated, though not without some good-natured protests. Twenty minutes later, the kitchen was spotless, and Brant and Kyle were raiding the refrigerator for a midnight snack.

  Kyle held up a leftover corner of his thickly frosted graduation cake, covered with foil. “Anybody care if I finish this off?”

  Ellen huffed out a short breath of air. “As long as you wash your dishes when you’re through.”

  Kyle rummaged in a drawer for a fork, then came over to where Ellen was standing. He leaned his elbow heavily on her shoulder, using her for a table while he polished off the cake in four man-sized bites. He was a head taller than his mother and outweighed her by at least seventy pounds. This was her baby! It didn’t seem possible!

  “Good party, Mom…thanks,” he mumbled through a mouthful of frosting.

  “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

  “Did you get some good pictures at graduation, Dad?”

  Ellen intercepted the question. “Yeah, very funny, Kyle. So help me, if you’re grinning like Howdy Doody in all your pictures, I’ll wring your neck!” She demonstrated just how she would do it. Kyle grinned and ducked out of her grasp and ran up the stairs two at a time.

  “Good night, everybody,” he hollered down behind him. “Thanks for all the loot…”

  “You’re welcome…. Good night, Kyle,” Mark and Jana said in unison.

  “Good night, honey…love you,” Ellen said, a lump thickening her throat.

  Oh, how she would miss that boy!

  John and Ellen stood in the driveway watching Kyle’s little Toyota round the curve and disappear out of sight.

  John sighed. New Mexico was too far away, but in just a few weeks Kyle would be closer to home in Urbana. He found himself smiling in spite of the poignancy of the moment. It had been a tearful, but joyful, goodbye. Kyle’s excitement was contagious, and John couldn’t begrudge him his eagerness to be on the road.

  The morning was chilly for June, but the birds were singing and the sky was clear. He put an arm around Ellen and drew her to him as they strolled back up to the house. “Well, Mrs. Brighton. Looks like it’s just you and me.”

  She glanced up at him beneath tendrils of auburn hair. “Are you trying to make me cry again?”

  “No, ma’am. Actually, I kind of like the sound of it…just the two of us. No phone ringing off the hook, no doors slamming, actual food in the refrigerator.” He chuckled. “Why, we might even be able to finish a conversation in one sitting.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. “Won’t that be nice?”

  They stopped and stood in the driveway looking up at the big house.

  John sighed. “I wish Oscar and Hattie could see how the kids have turned out. They’d be pleased with all the happiness this old house has held for us.”

  “Yes, they would,” Ellen agreed in a thin voice that told John her thoughts were far away. “I miss them.”

  Oscar and Hattie Miles had become surrogate parents to John in his college years and had been like grandparents to the Brighton children. The elderly couple had been gone for several years now, but John saw their faces before him now, indelibly etched in a cherished niche of his memory.

  Oscar Miles had immigrated to the States from London when he was just fourteen, and though he’d cherished his American citizenship, he’d never lost the trace of London that lingered in his deep voice. His wife was a plump and cheerful angel with a halo of white hair. If he closed his eyes, John could almost taste the sweet, flaky tarts and cobblers and English scones Hattie had seemed determined to stuff him with.

  It was at her table that John had found true meaning in his life. For Hattie had shown him God. God had been as real and as personal to her as Oscar was, and her relationship with her God was not much different than her friendship with her husband.

  One night, after Oscar shared his own experiences of faith—faith in a living God through His Son Jesus Christ—John could no longer find a reason not to believe.

  That night John had found healing for the pain of an absent father and a distant mother. He’d found meaning for his work with the children at school and a re
ason to hope for their future, as well as his own.

  Then John had introduced Ellen to Oscar and Hattie, and they had grown to love her as their own. They were ecstatic when John announced their engagement. And when he told them that he and Ellen wanted to keep his apartment after their marriage, Oscar proceeded to paint the kitchen and have new carpeting put in the living room. Hattie all but banished John from the place while she scrubbed floors and washed windows and swept away cobwebs.

  With Ellen’s collection of furniture from the farm, and John’s mishmash acquired at garage sales and flea markets, the apartment soon became a quaint and cozy haven. They had spent many a leisurely afternoon browsing flea markets and dusty antique shops, finding just the right touches to make the rooms of the apartment their own. John taught Ellen the fine art of bargaining, and soon she was wheedling the stingiest of proprietors into incredible deals. Ellen reveled in making curtains and pillows for the tiny bedroom and drove John crazy arranging and rearranging the furniture.

  He grinned to himself. She still did that sometimes. But he’d learned to put up with it, even enjoy it as one of the quirks that made her his Ellen. He reached to caress the back of her neck.

  She leaned into him and let out a murmur of pleasure. After a minute she turned back to meet his eye. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Same things you are. Life. How fast it’s going by.”

  “You’ve got that right. It’s scary.”

  “Scary, yes. But good. Life is good.”

  And it was. He breathed in the morning air and looked up toward the wing of the house where they’d begun their marriage. The house sat on an oak-canopied avenue not far from Calypso’s Main Street, but the expansive yard and surrounding woods gave it the feel of an old country home.

  Oscar and Hattie had eventually moved into a retirement home, and John and Ellen moved into the big house, paying a ridiculously low sum in rent each month.

  When Hattie died, just months after they buried Oscar, John and Ellen learned that the couple had left them more than a legacy of faith and love. The precious couple had willed the beautiful house to John. For the growing Brighton family, the gift of the house was almost too good to be true. Oscar and Hattie were sorely missed, and of course the house hardly made up for the loss of the couple’s friendship and wise counsel. But they had bequeathed a legacy of happy memories that would always be a part of John and Ellen’s life together.

  Over the years, they had spent countless hours refinishing woodwork, painting and wallpapering. One memorable year, they completely remodeled the kitchen and turned the summer porch behind it into a modest conservatory. They’d done all the exhausting work themselves. It tested their mettle and their marriage, but when John and Ellen stepped over the threshold the day the last piece of furniture was in place, they felt they had come full circle. There was now a bedroom for each of the children on the second floor, and John and Ellen had appropriated the attic—their first home—as a master suite, complete with bathroom, sitting room and kitchenette. It was hard to believe they had once lived solely in this tiny space. But it made a wonderful hideaway from the stresses of teaching children all day and coming home to three of their own.

  Today, having ushered the last of their children out of this house, they stood at the entrance to the back door—the entrance to a new future together—perhaps a little apprehensive about facing the uncertainty. John reached to turn the doorknob but suddenly changed his mind.

  “Want to go for a walk? This morning is too pretty to waste.”

  Ellen tipped her head, as if his suggestion surprised her. But she nodded. “Sure. But let me change my shoes and get a jacket.”

  A few minutes later, they set out along West Oaklawn at a brisk pace. They usually took their walks together in the evenings, and the street looked different in the early-morning light. The leaves still wore the yellow-green of spring, and in the dawning sunlight the flower gardens glimmered with dew. It was easy to feel optimistic in this pristine world.

  Ellen sighed. “Kyle seems so happy. I hope his job goes as well as he thinks it will. He’s not exactly realistic about life sometimes.”

  “He is kind of a Pollyanna,” John conceded, “but I think I’d rather have him that way than have him as serious as Brant was about everything. Remember what a lost soul he was before he left for college?”

  She gave a knowing snort. “I’d almost forgotten about that. He’s so different now.”

  Brant had been the most rebellious of their three, but now he was finding his place in life. He’d found his niche in computer science at the university, and had a job he loved in the computer lab on campus.

  And Brant was in love. He’d brought Cynthia Riley home to meet the family the weekend after Kyle’s graduation. John sensed there was something special between the two.

  Ellen was quiet for a moment, seeming deep in thought. “Cynthia has been good for Brant,” she said finally. “I hope he doesn’t let her get away. He’s grown up so much in the past year, I can’t help feeling I’ve lost my little boy.” A faraway look came to her eyes. “Both my little boys. But I guess you’re right. Kyle will find his way, too.”

  They walked in silence for a while.

  “We did a good job, didn’t we, El?” John asked, feeling suddenly a little melancholy.

  She looked at him, questioning in her eyes. “With the kids? Oh, I’m so proud of them I could just pop sometimes. We did have some help though, John,” she teased. “I think the Lord should probably get a little credit.”

  He responded to her teasing rebuke with a frown. “You’re right, of course.” He shook his head. “Every year I look at the families enrolling their kids in kindergarten, and I don’t envy them a bit. In some ways, they have some of the best years of their lives ahead, but I have to say, I’m thankful we’ve done our job and can heave a sigh of relief.”

  “John!” Ellen stopped dead in the street, her hands-on-hip stance matching the exasperation in her tone. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel like I can quit worrying. I still fret over Jana, even though she has her wonderful Mark, a job she loves, a nice apartment. But there’s still just so much that can happen.” Her eyes sparked. “And about the time we think we can quit worrying about Mark and Jana, we’ll have grandchildren to lose sleep over! I’m not holding my breath for that, though. I’m afraid those two are both far too wrapped up in their careers and—”

  “Hey…You worry too much, Mama.” John tousled her hair playfully, loving the soft feel of her curls between his fingers. “There’s plenty of time for that.”

  She leaned into his shoulder. “I know. And I know Mark and Jana are happy together. I have to let them live their own lives. Kyle, too. I’m sure he’ll be better off if we let him make a few mistakes. I just feel like worrying is part of my job description.”

  “Well, don’t look now, but our job description just changed rather drastically.”

  She sighed. “I can handle that, I guess. But it’s going to feel strange. It might take some getting used to.”

  He started back up the street, picking up the pace. She followed, lengthening her stride to keep up with him, and breathing hard. They circled the neighborhood and ended up back in their driveway.

  “Hey.” He put a hand on Ellen’s shoulder. “Let’s celebrate our freedom. How does breakfast at Perkins sound?”

  “Mmm. Sounds great.” She shot him a mischievous grin and took off running. “Beat you to the shower!”

  John easily overtook her, and they pushed and shoved their way up to their attic room, Ellen squealing like a schoolgirl.

  They ended up sharing the shower, laughing, suddenly carefree and young again.

  Half an hour later they climbed into the car and headed toward the restaurant. John felt Ellen’s eyes on him as he navigated the heavy morning traffic.

  He glanced over to find her gazing at him with misted eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head and cleared her throat.
“I’m just thinking…how much I’m looking forward to the rest of my life with you.”

  Concentrating on the busy street, he reached for her hand and squeezed it.

  Suddenly, the empty nest felt wonderfully full.

  Chapter Three

  Exactly six weeks later Ellen wound up in the shower at one o’clock in the morning. She and John had laughed about it at the time, and had gone back to bed and slept soundly. She didn’t give it much thought beyond that morning.

  Until it happened again a few weeks later.

  Only that time, she was dressed for work and almost out the door before John stopped her and sent her back to bed. And now it had happened again last night. Alarm bells went off in her head. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something wasn’t right.

  She’d felt tired and run-down for a couple of months, but she’d never had trouble sleeping before. “I don’t know why I don’t check the clock before I get out of bed,” she told John.

  She didn’t know why, except that her usual morning routine involved slamming the alarm off, heading blindly for the shower and not opening her eyes until the hot spray hit her face.

  She was a few months overdue for her annual physical exam, so she scheduled an appointment. She intended to mention the incidents to Dr. Morton, but by the time she sat on the edge of the examining table, vulnerable and covered only by the flimsy white gown, it seemed like a silly thing to bother such a busy man with.

  To her surprise, he brought up the subject. “Let’s see, Ellen…” He leafed through her chart. “How old are you now?”

  “This is strictly confidential, right?” she teased. Jerry Morton had been their family physician for almost twenty years, and Ellen was comfortable joking with him. “I’ll be forty-seven next month.”

  “Are you still getting your periods regularly?”

  “Like clockwork.”

  “Any problems with hot flashes or night sweats?”