Page 26 of Promise Me Forever

“Retired clowns. No, to be fair, retired ‘circus folk.’ Apparently it’s a thing. Turns out the carnies aren’t so good at stocking their pension funds, and there’s a residential home for them just outside Buffalo. I’m not kidding, bro—this is what my life has become.”

I can’t keep the laughter in anymore, and it bursts out of me in loud guffaws. I laugh so damn much I have tears in my eyes and a stitch in my side. Elijah merely nods and lets me get on with it. “Yeah, laugh it up pal,” he says eventually. “But know this—Amber is talking about organizing a date auction to raise funds for the poor clowns, and you’re on her list as lot number one.”

“I don’t mind. Anything to help Bozo.” I clear my throat and wipe my eyes. “Why were you fighting about it?”

“Aw, fuck, Drake. Why do we fight about anything? Because we were in the same room? Because it’s become a habit? Because we hate each other as much as we used to love each other? I don’t fucking know anymore. It’s exhausting. It’s one of the reasons I like this place. Amber wouldn’t be caught dead in here.”

I look around at the battered tables and equally battered faces and nod. He’s right. Amber would hate this. Her world is one of high society, exclusive parties, and the charity committees she sits on. She comes off as distant and aloof, and the rest of my family has no time for her at all. None of them understand why Elijah sticks with her, tortured by their loveless marriage. I know her a little better and understand that life isn’t always as black and white as it appears on the surface.

“Maybe she’d surprise you, Elijah. Maybe you could give her a chance.”

He sighs and drinks some more. “I’ve given her a thousand chances, and I’m pretty sure she’d say the same about me. No. It is what it is. Anyway, enough of my bullshit.” He jerks his chin at me. “How’s your bullshit?”

I understand his desire to change subjects. When a problem doesn’t seem to have a solution, sometimes all you can do is switch off and give your mind a break, so I indulge him. “My bullshit is coming along just fine, thanks. Saw Maddox earlier. He came into the office and made all the women swoon.”

“Was he modeling his Buddhist quarterback look?”

I laugh, because he’s nailed it. Maddox was a football star in high school, until he was derailed by the combined trauma of losing our mom at sixteen and a fucked-up situation with a girlfriend who took her own life. His future was pretty much mapped out for him—football, college, family—until it wasn’t.

He’s spent years drifting around the world, and the world has rubbed off on him. The rest of us live in our suits and ties, but Maddox prefers baggy pants and tunics in colorful fabrics that were handwoven by monks. Probably using the hair of magical goats. He’s still a big, good-looking bastard, though, and the mix of that and the spiritual vibe he gives off seems to be a hit with the ladies. Not that he notices or cares. Bro’s still on his celibacy kick. Weirdo.

“Yep. Even Linda from HR did a double take, and believe me when I say she’s not a woman who is easily swayed. He seems okay, glad to be here with us all, but this is the most time I’ve spent with him in years. And even though he’s been back a year, he’s still such a fucking free spirit. I’m never sure, you know, if he’ll stay.”

“I do know, yeah. It feels a bit like we’re on borrowed time with him, doesn’t it? He doesn’t have a job or a partner oranything really anchoring him to New York. He could drift off again at any moment. And, you know, we’d all miss him. But Dad?”

“Right. Dad would be devastated. I suppose all we can do is hope Mad continues being happy enough to stay and be ready to pick up the pieces if he leaves.” I sip my Guinness and make sure to lick my upper lip clean.

“I think I’ve found Dad a cook,” Elijah says, grinning at me.

“Why? He doesn’t want a cook.”

“I know that. But want and need are two different things. This woman… Well, she’s something else. She’s Luisa’s mom.”

Luisa is Elijah’s assistant—a supremely smart, ultra-ambitious business grad whose family is originally from Venezuela. I’ve met her a couple times, and she’s an impressive woman, hyper focused and even more efficient. Her parents moved here to build a better life for themselves and their children, and Luisa seems determined to prove their sacrifice wasn’t wasted.

“Is Luisa’s mom as, um, assertive as Luisa?” I ask carefully.

“You mean is Luisa’s mom also a total ball-breaker? I have to say, yeah, she is, but with a little more charm. I mean, Luisa is great, but she’s also terrifying. Luz is just as great, and she takes literally no shit from anyone, but she does it with a smile and the offer of a pastelito. Her husband died when Luisa was thirteen, and she’s raised four kids on her own in a country that wasn’t her own. Honestly? I think she can handle Dalton James being a temperamental asshat.”

I’m not sure our dad will be on board with this idea. He and Mom never had a cook. The kitchen was Mom’s domain, but he loved spending time in there with her when he could. She was from Spain and taught him everything he knows about food. He still wears that apron she bought him, for god’s sake.

“Why do you think he’ll go for it? And is this more than just domestic help?”

Despite—or maybe because of—his marital situation, my big brother is a romantic. He always wants a happy ending for people, and I wouldn’t be shocked if he was trying to set Dad up. Our father is still a fit and active man, and he does not go short of female companionship, but since we lost our mom, there hasn’t been anyone significant.

“Would that be so bad?” he asks. “Doesn’t he deserve somebody other than us? It’s not healthy for him to live his life through his kids.”

“Maybe.” I shrug. “And I get that your motives are pure, brother, but don’t expect too much, all right? As far as Dad is concerned, he’s had the great love of his life, and that will never be repeated.”

“It was a great love, wasn’t it?” he says, finishing off his Guinness.

As an adult, I know that no marriage is perfect. No relationship survives without its ups and downs. But my overwhelming memory of growing up is how happy my parents were together. Maybe that’s one of the reasons that most of us have found it so hard to settle down. Having the example of a perfect couple as your mom and dad is a lot of live up to, and seeing how broken my father was when he lost her was a powerful deterrent against giving that kind power to anyone. The man warned us all against ever falling in love, for fuck’s sake.

“What about you? You’re new to town. I know you had your, uh, arrangements back in Chicago. Will you build similar arrangements here?”

“Are you asking me how I plan to get my rocks off, Elijah?”

He waves his hand at me. “No. I’m just curious. I mean, whatever works for you. It’s just that when you spoke about thatwoman, the one you met at the wedding? That felt like a little more than an arrangement. I’m the last dude on earth who has the right to advise anybody on their love life, but what can I say? I want you to be happy.”

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