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The Promise
The Promise
“Cass?”
Her brother’s tone was insistent and protective in spite of its slight hesitation. The sound sent a shiver down Cassidy’s spine, and she fixed her eyes on the bouquet in her hand. The plastic stems and tiny silk tufts of baby’s breath steadied her, recalling her conversation with Gilbert.
“Fake flowers, Cassie? You don’t see our love that way, do you?”
Her heart had hurt at the wistful sound in his tone, and she’d given him her most confident smile with her answer.
“Sure I do. Real flowers wilt, you know. These will stay forever.”
“Cass, honey.” Derek had let himself into the room and stood behind her. Cassidy didn’t turn. “Cass.” The plea was a whisper, and Derek’s arms came around her.
Cassidy wanted to let herself sink against the heavy fabric of his dress blues, to cry out the fear and anguish that the last few hours had brought to the boiling point. But she couldn’t. He’d see it as an admission of doubt. She remained stiff in his arms.
“Come on, honey.” Derek’s voice was soft and coaxing in her ear. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go to dinner. Go to a movie. Or just go home. You can curl up on the couch and cry all over my shirt. Okay?”
Cassidy shook her head stiffly. The threat of tears was too real to make an answer.
“We can’t stay here all night, Cass. Everyone’s gone except the pastor and the ladies who are cleaning up.” His arms tightened around her as he spoke the words she dreaded. “Honey, he’s not coming.”
“You don’t know him, Derek.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice.
“I’ve known him longer than you have, honey.” Derek’s tone had acquired a trace of steel. He let go of her shoulders and moved in front of her, tipping her chin up to face him. “A ring on your finger is no guarantee from Gilbert Roth. I warned you a long time ago.”
“He’s changed.”
“He must have told a hundred girls he’d changed, Cass. Greener pastures—always greener pastures. And he’s a coward. Always has been, even if he covers it with his smooth talk. I’d track him down and break his nose if I thought it’d do any good.”
“It’s not like that, Derek. I remember him in high school. I’m sure he was worse in college. But he’s a Christian now. You don’t understand—can’t understand—how that changes a person.”
Cassidy’s heart throbbed for a moment with a deeper, more familiar pain. If only Derek could accept the new life, the real change that came from knowing Jesus. She’d hoped Gilbert might show him. He’d been so different this last year while Derek had been deployed. But now—
The muscles in Derek’s jaw tightened.
“I understand that it gives him a brand-new crop of innocent, trusting hearts to break. And when he comes back ‘repentant,’ some other girl’ll be right there waiting to give him another chance. He’s playing you all.”
“He’s different.” The plastic flower stems trembled in her hand, and she tightened her grasp.
Derek sighed, and his shoulders slumped, then he straightened and gently grasped her arms.
“You need to let it go. He’s not coming. Cry, scream—I don’t care. Just let your heart break now, not one tiny piece at a time when it’s been days and weeks and months and he’s still not here.”
Cassidy’s eyes closed, and a single tear escaped the tightly-woven lashes. Derek pulled her head to his shoulder, and she trembled with the effort it took to keep more tears from following the first.
“Come on, Cass.” Derek’s tone was soft, hopeful, tender. “Let’s go home.”
Her iron rod of resolve was weakening fast. If Derek had known it, he would have lifted her in his arms and carried her out the door, severing it completely.
“He’ll be here.”
Derek sighed.
“It’s almost seven o’clock. They have to shut up the church. You can’t stay here all night.”
“He’ll be here.” It was all she had left.
The rod had worn down to the width of a wire, and she could feel it bending with the weight of her own emotions and the pressure of Derek’s hands on her back. She hoped her brother didn’t sense it; two more loving words from him might snap it. She hoped Gilbert would never know how low her faith had ebbed.
Please, God, help me stand.
“Cass—” Derek’s plea was interrupted by the banging of a door in the distance and a startled hum of voices from the other side of the wall. Cassidy moved toward the sound, and Derek followed with a sigh of relief.
The fellowship hall had been stripped of nearly all its festive color. The tables were stacked against one wall; the chairs sat in rows, ready for Sunday school. A handful of ladies stood wide-eyed and whispering in the corner. And near the door, leaning against the wall and moving slowly toward her—
“Gil!” Cassidy ran to the disheveled figure and clasped him in her arms, regardless of the bouquet in her hands or the pristine condition of her dress.
“Cassie. Cassie, I’m so sorry.” Gilbert’s voice was hoarse and choked, and his broad shoulders trembled in her grasp. Cassidy stepped back and swiftly took in the gauze that covered his hands and forehead, the smell of smoke that clung thickly around him, the torn and soot-streaked state of the rented tuxedo.
“Gil, sit down.” She caught the leg of a nearby chair with her foot and drew it forward, pressing Gilbert into it. It settled on top of her long skirt, pinning her to his side, and she made no effort to free herself. Gilbert doubled over, coughing violently, and she reached a hand up to rub his arm and shoulder.
“Cassie—so sorry,” he repeated between spasms. Someone pressed a glass of water into her hand, and she held it carefully to Gilbert’s lips, watching with relief as his breathing eased. He raised his eyes to meet hers, full of pain and anguish.
“I know what—what they must’ve said—what you must’ve thought.”
“Look at me, Gil.” Cassidy edged back as far as the chair’s hold would permit and spread her skirt in a cloud around her. Picking up the bouquet that had fallen from her hand, she laid it in his lap. “Look at me. I’m still here. Still dressed. Still waiting. You promised, and you came. That’s all that matters.”
“Cassie.” Gilbert’s voice broke on the word, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him close again.
“Forgive me, ma’am.”
Cassidy turned her head toward the strange voice without loosening her hold.
“I’m afraid it’s ruined your day, and I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t—can’t entirely regret it. He saved my son’s life.”
Cassidy laid her head down on Gilbert’s shoulder, unable to speak.
“What happened?” Derek spoke for the first time since they’d left her room.
“House caught fire. Wife and I weren’t there. Babysitter got the two oldest out, but my little boy was asleep upstairs. He was driving along the road, saw the smoke, flames. Somehow got in and got to him. Part of the roof fell in, but he shielded my boy with his own body, and by then, the firemen were there. Got them both out.”
Gilbert’s shoulders shuddered slightly, and Cassidy rubbed gentle circles into them with her palms.
“When was this?” Derek’s tone was unreadable.
“Around ten this morning. Live about fifteen minutes this side of Redmond. They took him to the hospital, patched him up, but he wouldn’t stay after he could stand on his own feet, and they couldn’t keep him. Seemed like he shouldn’t be driving, so I brought him along. Least I could do—after everything he did.”
Derek was silent, and Cassidy’s heart glowed with joy. Even her brother couldn’t argue the fact that Gilbert had been on his way to the church after picking up his tuxedo in Redmond. And his reputation as a coward—surely no one would ever dare call him that again.
Praise God, she hadn’t given in. Gilbert was worth all her trust and more.
Derek’s hand settled on her shoulder.
“Best get him back to a hospital, Cass. Smoke inhalation’s nothing to play around with.”
Cassidy nodded and raised her head, running a hand through Gilbert’s soot-blackened hair.
“Is Pastor Blake still here?”
“Right here, Cassidy.” He must have left his office to investigate the noise.
“Will you marry us, Pastor? Now?”
“Cassie.” Gilbert’s hoarse voice pulled her eyes back to his face. “This isn’t how I wanted it. You should have—your dream wedding. The flowers. The guests. Not like—like this.”
“Are you backing out of marrying my sister, Roth?” Derek’s eyes narrowed, but there was an unexpected gentleness in his tone. Gilbert straightened.
“No. Never. I—”
“It’s not the flowers and the guests I want, Gil,” Cassidy interrupted before he could wear himself out with protests. “It’s you. Marry me. Today. Now. Just like we planned.”
Gilbert struggled to his feet and balanced himself with one hand on the back of a chair.
“I’d marry you anywhere—any time, Cassie Gray. And don’t you—forget it.”
Pastor Blake came to stand in front of them. Derek took hold of Cassidy’s hand and placed it carefully on top of Gilbert’s bandaged one, just as he would have in the formal ceremony. Before stepping back, he leaned close to her ear.
“You were right on this one, Cass. I’ll watch and see about the rest.”
“Your blessing?” Cassidy tilted her head to look into her brother’s eyes. He shook his head slowly, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You and Gilbert Roth. Never thought I’d see the day.” Leaning over again, he kissed her hair and nodded. “My blessing, Cass. You’ve got it.”
Copyright September 2018 by Angie Thompson
Photo by Petr Ovralov, courtesy of Unsplash.