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"Thank you, dear. Bless you," she said.
"Bless us all," I told her and hung up wondering if we weren't both making a phone call to God and getting the same busy signal.
18 Broken Promises
. Despite how busy she was, Aunt Zipporah kept her eyes and ears on me. The first free moment she had, she came to me to ask about the phone call. After I told her what Duncan's mother had said, she advised me not to get too deeply involved.
"This problem is too complicated, Alice. Duncan and his mother have to work things out themselves. You're too fragile for something this heavy."
I nodded in agreement, but she wasn't convinced. "Will you promise me not to do anything on your own? Will you?"
I hated promises. People made them to end arguments or to make themselves feel better, or, which is what often happened to me, to make someone else hopeful about something that looked pretty much impossible at the time. My whole life was built on a big promise, the promise that someday, somehow, I would finally understand who I was, that I would finally escape from all the shadows and secrets that hovered around me, invading my dreams and thoughts that smiles and laughter were just around the corner. I was to be forever patient and optimistic and believe in the promise.
My grandparents, who had been seriously wounded emotionally, who had long ago had their own faith and optimism nearly fatally challenged, did their best to keep their own sadness and
disappointment hidden, but I was unfortunately born with that third eye my grandfather described. I could see behind smiles and hear beneath words. I heard the gurgling stream of inky darkness running under our very feet. I knew instinctively that promises offered false avenues of escape.
Countries broke treaties, families broke loyalties, lovers broke sacred oaths, businesspeople broke contracts. Why was anything ever written or said to bind us to promises? We have been victims of them ever since the Garden of Eden. To me, for me, whenever anyone made a promise, he or she was lying to not only whoever had received the promise but also, more important, to himself or herself.
Both my father and my aunt broke the promise every child makes to his or her parents--the promise to be loyal and loving and to do nothing to hurt them. Both my father and my aunt broke their promise to my mother, the promise to protect and to help her. And my mother? Whether she was able to understand what she had done or not, she broke a mother's most important promise to her child--the promise to be her mother, to love and to cherish.
I shook my head. "There's no point in my promising anything, Zipporah," I told her. "I agree with you, but whether I write it in blood or ink, I can't tell you what will happen tomorrow."
"Oh Alice, I'm so sorry something like this happened so quickly to you here. I wanted you to get a great start. I had a bad feeling about him. I warned you. I told you to be careful."
"I won't let anyone blame you for anything," I told her, which was the wrong thing to tell her. I saw the pain in her face immediately.
"I'm not worried about that, Alice. That's not what I meant at all. Do you think I would let my parents or your father make me feel like that?"
"I'm sorry," I said, tears coming to my eyes. "I didn't mean it to sound that way."
"I know you didn't." She put her arm around me and pulled me closer to her. "You're very upset. I think you should go home now, Alice. Get some rest. You can't do any more anyway."
Just as she said that, a group of nearly a dozen summer college students came into the restaurant, talking excitedly, laughing and teasing each other. They made for the two long tables. How do I become one of them? I wondered. When do I live in a carefree manner and wake up with a smile on my face and laughter on my lips?
Tyler looked up with surprise in the kitchen. We were going to have a big day here in the cafe. Another, smaller group followed the students in and sat at tables close by. Missy looked overwhelmed immediately. Cassie was busy with four tables of older people who had come in for an early bird special.
"I should stay," I said.
"You look drained, honey. Go on home. I'll put on an apron and take your place. Go ahead," she urged.
I glanced at the crowd building. My hip did ache, and the thought of rushing about suddenly seemed exhausting.
"Everything will look better tomorrow. You'll see," Aunt Zipporah said. "C'mon. Get your booty home."
I smiled and nodded as I undid my waitress apron. She took it from me quickly to be sure I didn't change my mind.
"Tyler's going to think I'm deserting you just at the wrong moment."
"Not Tyler," she said. "Maybe Cassie," she added, laughing.
I started toward the door and stopped.
"If I get a call--"
"I'll let you know," she said. "I promise."
The word fell like a bird that had a heart attack. I nodded anyway and continued out of the restaurant to her car to drive myself home, where I did hope I would lie down and get some sleep. I wasn't a bit hungry. I would_go right to bed.
