Page 54 of Promise Me Never

“A Coors Light bottle for me.”

“Iced tea for me, thank you.” Eli gives her a smile.

“No problem, honey.” Jackie’s gaze swings to me with warmth. “It’s good to see out with someone.”

“We’re not together like that,” Eli corrects her. “I’m Eli Hart, Paul and Jo’s granddaughter.” Her delivery is so nonchalant, it almost puts me out.

Jackie’s face lights up. “Our dads were good friends back in the day.”

I didn’t know that. I watch as they talk and piece things together. Eli turns her attention to me as soon as Jackie walks away to get our drinks.

“It’s weird to think about my dad being here. Having friends and a life outside of academia.”

“Are you close at all?”

“No.” She stops to give Jackie a smile as she sets our drinks down with a promise to be back with a basket of dinner rolls and to take our order. “I honestly don’t think my parents ever wanted to have kids.”

“Did they tell you that?”

“No. But they’ve always treated me like an inconvenience, you know? Sometimes when I was feeling like an emo kid, I’d wonder why they didn’t just abort me.”

I had been about to tip my beer back against my lips, but I set the bottle down and lean forward. Hearing that admission from her feels like a grizzly just sank its claws into my chest. Nausea rises within me at the thought of Eli not existing.

“Well, I’m glad they didn’t.” My voice catches, the words rough and my tone gravelly.

“Me, too.” She shrugs, completely unaware of my inner turmoil. “Do you ever want kids?”

“What?” The change in our topic of conversation gives me whiplash.

“Kids? Do you want them? I know you lost your wife young enough that you probably weren’t even thinking about babies back then.” She looks up at me, her finger tracing the sweat rolling down the glass. “You don’t have to answer if I’m being too invasive.”

She knows more than I thought she did but clearly not that Amy was pregnant when she died. No one likes to talk about that. Including me.

“I haven’t given it much thought, to be honest.”

She nods like she gets it. Maybe she does.

“I think about it a lot. Whether I’d be a good parent. I obviously don’t have the best role models in terms of emotional support, but they weren’t bad, you know? I was fed, clothed, and given an excellent education. Feels kind of greedy to have all that and still want the hugs andI love yousthat other kids always had.”

“You deserved to hear it, though. And to get those hugs.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs again, and I start to wonder if it’s a defense mechanism. “But there’s more ways to say you love someone than just using the words. There are actions that say a thousand times more.”

“Yeah, but saying and hearing them are just as important.”

She gives me a sad smile. “Wouldn’t know.”

Jackie breaks up our heavy conversation by coming to take our orders. I watch the interaction between the two strangers, marveling at how easily Eli slides into every space she occupies in this town. Tourists and outsiders always stand out, but she blends into the local tapestry like she’s been here all along.

Our conversation steers in the direction of what she’s going to do for living expenses when she gets back to LA. It’s a topic that’s been hanging heavily on her shoulders the past week. She confesses she’s filled out so many scholarship applications she’s lost track of which ones she’s applied for.

That’s when a plan begins to form in my mind. I was trying to figure out how to pay her expenses from the ranch, but having an understanding of the books, I know what is and isn’t possible for Paul to swing. Paying her enough for housing, food, and utilities for the eighteen months of college and her MBA program she has left is too much for the ranch to swing. Some years we barely break even.

I, on the other hand, have a twelve-million-dollar wrongful death settlement in the bank. I’ve never touched it because it felt wrong. How do you spend the money some judge deemed your wife and unborn baby’s life to be worth? The last time I checked, it had nearly doubled.

I’ve taken some out to pay for Janey’s college and make a few upgrades to the house she lives in. I convinced Linda to let me buy her a reliable vehicle. I paid for Mom’s hospice care at home. This is a cause as worthy as any of those.

I make a mental note to reach out to my lawyer to ask about setting up an anonymous scholarship I can just award her. If she’s truly lost track of scholarships, maybe I can slip it past her. Keeping it anonymous should help.

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