Page 45 of Keeping Promises

Using the key that Hadley had given me, I enter her apartment without knocking. It’s strange to feel so domesticated. It’s not that feeling that is strange; it’s how much I like it that is foreign to me. I was surprised when she gave it to me, but her reasoning makes sense, I guess, that I can come and go easily when the baby arrives, but for a split second now, I picture using the key to enter my own home.

Things have definitely been shifting between Hadley and me, but neither of us has broached the subject. I don’t know about her, but I’m worried that if I put my feelings out there, she won’t feel the same, and things will go back to being awkward like they were at the beginning. A part of me hopes that her giving me this key was her subtle way of wanting more.

I toe off my shoes and leave them by the door. Typically, when I arrive, Hadley is propped on the couch with a snack bowl of some sort resting on her belly, but today she is nowhere to be found.

I set the bag of groceries to make her favorite dinner, bacon chicken alfredo, emphasis on the bacon, on the counter and go in search of her. That is another new entity in my life—wanting to make someone else happy instead of myself.

A soft angelic voice is coming from the spare room that was Lexi’s when she lived here. Hadley and I have begun to set the room up as the nursery. When I say began to set it up, I mean that there are three different paint squares on the walls. I’m learning all sorts of things, in addition to stuff about baby, that is. There are various shades of the same color of pink. The day after we found we were having a little girl, Hadley dragged me to the paint store to pick out colors.

Another thing I learned was that regular Twizzlers taste different from the pull-and-peel ones. I found that out the hard way when I decided to surprise Hadley with them one day when I was close by the salon.

Or that when she gets mad, she scrunches her nose, forming cute little wrinkles. I got to see that face both times when I said, “Just pick a pink,” and “I got you these Twizzlers.”

As I approach the doorway, I stop dead in my tracks.That song. It brings a chill up my spine, and the hairs on my arm stand up. How did she know? No, she couldn’t know.

I lean on the doorframe, crossing my arms and ankles, and take in the view in front of me.

Hadley is sitting in a rocking chair, with her hands resting on her round belly. Slowly rocking back and forth, Hadley softly sings the familiar tune of “La Vie en Rose.”

My mother used to sing me that song every night when she tucked me in. How does Hadley know? And how did I not know how beautiful her voice was?

When she finishes the song, she finally opens her eyes, revealing the blue orbs bright as the ocean.

“Hey,” she says softly, “how long have you been standing there?”

I push off the frame and close the distance between us. “Not long. I just got here.”

“Look what Cal and Brynn had delivered today—our first official item for the baby’s room.” That explains where the rocker came from.

I crouch down in front of her and run my hand over the suede covering on the arm. “It’s nice. That song you were singing—”

She interrupts. “It’s beautiful, right? My Grams used to sing it to me. She used to sing it to my mom when she was a baby, too.”

Out of all the millions of lullabies, what are the odds that they both sang the same one? My mouth falls open, and my breathing, I am pretty sure it stops.

Hadley leans forward, cupping my cheeks. Her touch is so delicate, yet a powerful feeling jolts through me every time she is near. “Asher, are you okay?”

I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She continues to stare, nibbling her bottom lip, contemplating if she believes me or not. Hell, I’m not sure I even believe me.

“Was my singing that bad?” she jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“No, your voice is stunning. I had no clue you could sing like that.”

She shrugs as if it’s nothing. “Seven years of the church choir.”

“Ahh, I see. So you were a church girl, huh?”

“Oh yeah—choir, youth group, the whole shebang.” She leans back in the rocker and giggles. That sound has become one of my favorite sounds.

Her smile is genuine, and she makes me want to be honest—one thing I never used to utilize in a woman’s company. But with Hadley, she’s different.

“That song.” I swallow thickly. I’ve never talked to anyone about my mother besides Ben. “My mother sang me that song every night before she…” I trail off. “I’ve never heard anyone else sing it before. It just took me surprise and brought up memories I buried deep down years ago.”

“Oh, Asher.” Hadley carefully maneuvers herself to join me on the floor. “I had no clue. I’m so sorry. I don’t have to sing it.”

I jerk my head up from where I was, gazing on the floor. “What? No!” I brush a curl behind her ear and caress her cheek with my thumb. “It’s almost like my mom is here. I know that sounds insane.”

“I don’t think it’s insane. I was singing it because I thought the same thing. That maybe it would be me connecting with my Grams somewhere, somehow.”

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