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From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} [rom fest] Hard Promise, Chap. 12/14 (rom mf)
Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 17:10:05 -0400
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Welcome to the Church of The Right Reverend Cotton Mather.  This story
is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or
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long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege
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(Copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)

Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.
RevCottonMather@hotmail.com

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HARD PROMISE
Rev. Cotton Mather



- 12 -

On Sunday morning, my parents and I got home from church to find a
car sitting in front of our house.  When we walked from the garage
toward the house, a car door opened and Melissa stepped out.  She
looked over the hood of the car, as if waiting for a signal of some
sort.  I stopped when I saw her.  My heart was beating fast, and
there was an empty feeling in my stomach.  Finally, I looked away
from her, and continued into the house without acknowledging her.

I figured that if she wanted to talk about something, she could come
up and knock on the door, but I wasn't going to make it easy on her
by inviting her in.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes, the doorbell rang.  My mom
opened the door and let Melissa in, and called up the stairs to me
to come down.  Mom left Melissa standing by the front door instead
of inviting her in, an indication of her displeasure in seeing her
there.

When I came downstairs, Melissa was standing there, still wearing
her long wool coat.  Her hair was pulled back into a severe
ponytail, and her face was very pale.  She looked nervous.

"Hello, Ray," she said hesitantly.

"Hi.  Why are you here?"

Tears started to form in her eyes at my harsh words.  "I...I need
to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Why?  Because Lindsey called me yesterday and told me what
happened."

"Okay, so Lindsey called you.  Why do you want to talk to me?"

The tears spilled over and down her cheeks, but I don't think she
noticed them.  "I...I...you..."  And, like a summer squall
overpowering a hot and humid day, her face collapsed into a series
of sobs she could not stop.  She stood there, hands to her cheeks,
looking forlornly at me, and cried.

As hard as I tried to be, I could not be that cold-hearted.  I took
her hand and led her into the living room, and sat down beside her
on the couch facing the cold fireplace.  I waited until the squall
passed, holding her hand passively, until she took it away to rummage
in her coat pocket for a tissue.  She blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

"What happened, Ray?" she asked.  "I want to hear it from you.  I
don't want to hear it from Lindsey, or from Brad, or from Marcus, or
from anybody else.  Just from you.  What happened?"

"You want to know what happened?"  I was angry, and she was about to
be the unfortunate recipient.  "Okay, I'll tell you what happened.
You hung up on me, that's what happened."

She looked up at me, startled and hurt.  Without a word, she stood up
as the tears began again, and strode to the front door.  She opened
the door and never looked back as she walked down the sidewalk to her
car, got in, and drove away.  The momentary satisfaction I felt when
I let my tongue wag before I put my brain in gear left me suddenly,
and I felt terrible.  Maybe she deserved it, maybe she didn't, but I
should have been a bigger man than to let such pettiness take over.
I mentally kicked myself, and closed the door.

So of course, like a hangnail or a paper cut you just can't leave
alone, Missy's visit gnawed at me all day.  By that evening, I was
irritable, unfit company for any other human in the vicinity.  I did
the only thing I could do.  I called her.

"Look," I said when she finally came to the phone, "I'm sorry I
treated you like that this morning.  I really am."

"Don't apologize, Ray.  I deserved it.  You're right, I did hang up
on you, and I never gave you a chance to explain."  She sounded
subdued, depressed, and near tears again.  "I knew I could trust
you, and I still doubted.  I thought I knew Micki, and I was eager
to put all the blame on her.  Oh, God, now I have to call Micki and
apologize!  Oh, God, I was such a raving BITCH to that poor girl!"
She started sobbing again.

I heard her mother in the background.  "Melissa?  Are you all right?"

Missy covered the handset and called out, "Yes, Mother.  I'm okay."
Then, back to me, she said, "I don't know what to do, Ray.  I don't
know how to fix this."

"I don't know if it's even fixable, Missy."

She sobbed again.  With a hitch in her voice, she finally said, "I'm
so sorry, Ray.  I love you."  She hung up the phone.

Now I really felt like shit.



(Continued in Chapter 13)





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