Keeping My Promise

George shook my hand vigorously, slapped me on the back explaining that Mr. Thornton would have accompanied him but Emily's mother was still recovering from surgery and he did not want to leave her alone.

After placing our luggage in the trunk we set off for Emily's home in Marblehead, Massachusetts. Emily insisted I ride in the back seat with her as George drove. In a little less than an hour's drive we pulled up to a wrought iron gate that swung open allowing us to drive up to the house.

We had no sooner stopped and gotten out of the car when the front door opened and an older man rushed out of the house. Enveloping Emily in his arms I heard him say . . .

"Thank God you are home safely, pumpkin. Your mother and I have been so worried about you."

Releasing Emily he grabbed me in a bear hug and exclaimed.

"You must be the man who saved my daughter's life! There is no way I'll ever be able to repay you, but I will damn sure try. Come in . . . come in. Emily's mom is just inside waiting."

Taking me by one arm and Emily by other arm he walked us into the house. Sitting in a wheelchair in the foyer with a blanket over her legs was a woman I took to be Emily's mother. As soon as Emily saw her she broke free from her father and rushed over shouting, "Mom, mom. What are you doing out of bed? Are you okay? George said something about another surgery . . ."

Before Emily could get another word out her mom pulled her onto her lap, hugging and kissing her.

"Calm down pumpkin, calm down. Yes, I have had several surgeries. The first was two days before you were kidnapped. It was partially successful but it encouraged me to continue in the hopes of walking again."

"The second one was just about the time you were to originally come home. That is why your father was unable to go and get you. The final one happened just a few days ago. The doctors told us, looking at Emily's father, that there is no reason I won't be able to resume a full and active life in a few months."

With Emily pushing her mother's wheelchair her father took my arm and we followed them into the sitting room.

As we enter the sitting room I was astonished to see my mom standing there. She rushed over and the next several minutes were filled with hugging, kissing and a lot of tears. I will admit a lot of those tears were mine.

"How did you get here? I mean I just don't understand how did . . .?"

"Emily and her father arranged all of it. I received a telephone call very, very early this morning from Mr. Thornton telling me to pack enough clothes for a week and for your sisters to do the same."

"I had to explain that both of your sisters were taking their final exams at the university. I knew they would drop everything to come but I also knew that they had to stay behind and finish their tests.

"Mr. Thornton had arranged for a car to pick me up and take me to the airport."

"This nice man" she continued, nodding at George, "picked me up and drove right here."

"We'll leave you two to catch up with each other." Peter said, escorting his wife and Emily from the room.

Boy did we ever catch up with what had happened since the last time I saw them. Mom told me both my sisters were finishing their last semester of college and were still living at home. I spent the better part of an hour explaining everything that had happened to me over the past few months.

That night there was a welcome home celebration the Thornton's threw for their daughter at their country club. I wore my full dress uniform at Emily's request.

When we arrived at the club it appeared that the party was already in full swing. Mr. Thornton, pushing his wife in her wheelchair, led us in. Emily had grasped my arm as we followed.

We were soon mobbed by well wishers and admirers. Emily was overwhelmed by her friends. She tried her best to include me, but it was soon apparent her friends were really not interested in me.

There was this one guy, he was introduced to me as Quentin Reynolds and he proceeded to shoulder me aside in order to embraced Emily. I thought he was a little too familiar and intimate with her.

To her credit she slipped away from his embrace and rejoined me. "Old boy friend . . . old ex-boyfriend," she whispered. As he moved along he gave me a snotty and condescending look.

After spending some time listening to these insufferable people fawn all over Emily. I took the opportunity to step outside onto the patio for a breath of fresh air. Standing there I thought to myself that many of these people didn't even acknowledge my presence.

While I was standing at the edge of the patio overlooking the darkened golf course someone grabbed me by the arm, spun me around, got in my face and yelled.

"I want to speak to you asshole. I don't know who you think you are with Emily falling all over you. You think just because you saved her life it means anything. My tax dollars pay you do that. You're nothing but an ignorant, stupid jarhead. You are not even close to being in her class."

As he continued his tirade he drew a crowd from amongst the guests. Just as I reached to remove his hand from my arm and teach this insufferable bastard a lesson or two in proper behavior; Emily, her father and George Samuelson pushed their way through the crowd.

"Quentin Reynolds," Emily screamed furiously. "You are a complete asshole. Get out . . and get out now!"

Now Peter Thornton is not a small man but George Samuelson was at least five inches taller and fifty pounds heavier. In a loud voice Peter thundered. "George help this piece of trash out of here."

"With pleasure boss," George replied grabbing Reynolds by his collar and the seat of his pants then frog marched him through the assembled crowd of on-lookers.

Then Peter Thornton, to his credit, proceeded to tell the crowd, in no uncertain terms, what I had done in twice saving his daughter's life and what it had almost cost me.

He finished by saying, "my wife and I owe this man a debt we can never re-pay. I am proud to say I know him and I consider him more than just a friend."

The rest of the evening went just fine and I will admit Emily's friends were a whole lot nicer to me. But I still harbored some lingering doubts. Was it because of what Peter had said or had these people truly accepted me as one of their own. I kind of think it was the result of Peter's little speech. Especially, after I overheard one of Emily's girlfriends say to her companion as they were leaving.

"Well he won't last long. When she tires of him she'll dump him like she's done with all the rest of her boy toys. As nice as he appears, he's just not in her class."

Now while I may not have much experience with girls in a social setting I am not entirely clueless. What was I experiencing with Emily. Did she love me or just have a case of serious hero worship? Or even perhaps a little guilt? This was something I would have to think long and hard about before putting any more energy into building a relationship.

A couple of days later I told Emily that I was going back to Iraq. I would be leaving in the morning. She was crying and holding on to me saying, "No . . no. You have to stay with me. I need you. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life. I can have daddy fix it so you don't have to go back."

"Emily," I replied. "When I entered the Marines I swore a oath . . . a solemn promise to serve and protect my country. What kind of man would I be if I went back on my word?"

The next morning I left. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do in my entire life My last vision of Emily was seeing her sobbing in the arms of her mother and father.

********************

The ringing of my telephone snapped me back present. It was one of my classmates, Rob Dawkins, asking me a question about tomorrow morning's test. Rob was another veteran who was using his G.I. Benefits to get a degree. We spent a good hour going over the equations we thought might appear on the exam.

By the time we finished and ended the call it was after midnight. Crawling into bed I saw Emily's letter on the night table. Pulling her letter from the envelope I read once more. It was something in the very last few sentences that gave me pause for thought.

'If you can find it in your heart to come back and forgive me I will make this solemn promise to you.'

'I promise to love you forever and ever . . . to stand by your side as my one and only true love until we grow old together and die.'

Then there was the part where she wrote '. . . . I will make this solemn promise to you. I promise to love you forever and ever . . .'

Perhaps, just perhaps, there was something there to build on.

********************

Gathering up everything I would need for the final exam that morning I headed over to the classroom building where the test would be conducted.

Fortunately, that last exam consisted of questions that Rob and I had prepared for. I finished early, before anyone else.

When I turned it in Professor Frasier asked me if I was so sure of my answers to turn my test paper in so quickly. I replied telling him I thought I nailed it. He just looked at me and said the results would be posted before noon on his office door.

A little after twelve I waited as some of my classmates looked at their test scores. When it was my turn I saw there was no grade posted next to my name just a note, 'see me'.

Walking into his office I found him sitting behind his desk. Without looking up he just grunted.

"Have a seat Steiger." Handing me my test he simply said, "perfect score. Just like your mid-term."

"This is the third different class you've taken with me, isn't it?"

I nodded my head, yes.

"On every one of my mid-term and final exams you've not missed a single question. In all my years at this university no one has ever done that, no one."

"I understand that you are graduating at the end of this semester."

"Yes, sir. I am."

"Have any job prospects yet?"

"No, just a couple of tentative feelers. But nothing solid."

Professor Frasier handed me a card. "Here, contact this guy. He's an old friend of mine. He heads up the HR Department at APEX."

I sucked in my breath. APEX was the largest electrical engineering contracting firm in the northeast.

"I contacted him less than an hour age. He's expecting your call. I think he has something right up your alley."

"I've looked into your record, Steiger. You have accomplished a lot in your life but you have so much more to look forward to as well."

"You know my son was a Marine. He didn't survive the First Gulf War. I think you are a lot like him."

He rose and came out from behind his desk. Shaking my hand and then pulling me into a bear hug he whispered in my ear.

"Semper Fi, Semper Fi, son. Make me proud."

I left with tears in my eyes and I returned to my apartment. I withdrew the card Professor Frasier had given me from my shirt pocket and made the call to Mr. Thomas Miller, Director of Human Resources, APEX, INC.

A woman's voice answered. "Mr. Miller's office."

"Good afternoon my name is Frederick Steiger. I'd like to speak with Mr. Thomas Miller, please," I requested.

"May I ask what this is in reference to?" She asked.

"Professor Arthur Frasier, here at M.I.T., gave me Mr. Miller's card and number earlier this afternoon." I replied.

"One moment, Mr. Steiger. Mr. Miller is expecting your call. Let me transfer you. Please hold for just a moment."

Mr. Miller didn't waste any words.

"Arthur Frasier and I go back a long way." He explained.

"In all the years I have known him he has only recommended two people to me for employment. I hired them both and never regretted it. He didn't speak of either of them in such glowing terms as he did of you. You must be something special in his eyes."

"Anyway," he continued. "APEX is starting a new project after the first of the year. Before I go any further are you amenable to re-locating?"

"I'm not sure. Where do you have in mind?" I replied.

"Good answer. Arthur told me you always wanted to have all the information before you made any decisions," he chuckled.

"The project is in Florida. It going to encompass all of the southeastern states."

He then went on to give me a brief description of what the project entailed.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, December fifteenth, on vacation with my family for a few weeks." He told me. "First one in a long, long time. Can we arrange to meet in three weeks? I'll clear my calendar for January fifth and answer any questions you may have then."

"As for now consider yourself hired. I'll have my secretary draw up a contract with all the details as to salary, benefits and the like. She'll send it by courier to you along with all the specific details of the project. Take a few days to read it all over and if you agree sign the contract and send it back."

"Thank you, thank you for this opportunity Mr. Miller. I really appreciate your offer."

"Don't thank me. Thank Professor Frasier. He has a great deal of faith in you."

"Yes sir. I won't let either of you down, I promise you." I said as we ended the call.

I immediately tried calling Professor Frasier but got a busy signal. Trying again ten minutes later I got a hold of him.

"Professor Frasier. I want to thank you so very much for putting in such a good word for me with Mr. Miller. He's offered me a job."

"Yep, I already know. He called me immediately after he spoke with you. I must say he was quite impressed with you."

"Yes sir. Thank you, again. I give you my solemn promise that I will not let you down.'

"I know, son, I know you won't. Now go and enjoy what little time you have off over the Christmas Holidays."

********************

It had been a long, exciting day for me and I was mentally exhausted. My head had no sooner hit the pillow when my eyes snapped back open. I knew what I had missed in Emily's letter. Grabbing it from the night table I read it once more.

Not anywhere in her entire letter did she write . . . . 'I need you' or . . . . ' I want you'. All she wrote was . . . . 'I love you' and

. . . . 'I promise you'.

I fell asleep knowing what I was going to do the following morning.

Waking the following morning. I showered and shaved. After dressing I made a call.

"Hello, George? It's Rick Steiger. Can you give me a ride."

With a great deal of relief in his voice he replied. "I'll be there in less than two hours, Rick."

Twenty minutes before George arrived a FedEx courier delivered a package containing the contract and documents with the details of the APEX project Thomas Miller had promised.

When we arrived at the house George told me to go on in and he would look after my things. Knocking at the front door, for the first time in quite some time, it was opened revealing Peter Thornton standing there with a big smile on his face.

"Thank you for coming, Rick. Come in, come in. Please step into the parlor. Emily is upstairs in her room. I'll go get her."

I went into the parlor as Peter Thornton went up to Emily's room. I heard him call her name as he reached the top of the staircase.

********************

Sitting in my room, staring at the bleak winter landscape outside the window, I heard my father call my name. After knocking at the closed bedroom door he stuck his head inside.

"Emily, may I come in for a moment?" He asked.

Entering into my room he softly said. "Pumpkin, you have a visitor waiting to see you in the parlor."

"Daddy, who is it? I really don't feel up to having any visitors."

"I think you will want to see this person." Taking my hand he helped me to my feet. "Please come downstairs with me."

"Okay. Just let me run a brush through my hair first."

Coming down the stairs with my father I saw my mother leaving the parlor with a smile on her face.

As I stepped into the room my father closed the door behind me with my mother standing beside him. The man standing there turned around.

It was Rick!! I know my eyes got as big as two dinner plates and I seemed to have lost the ability to speak. All I could do was rush over, throw my arms around him and burst into tears.

He gently led me to the sofa and sat down, pulling me onto his lap. I couldn't stop crying as I held him tightly, refusing to let go.

He had his arms wrapped around me and kept whispering in my ear. "It's okay . . . it's okay. Everything is going to be

okay sweetheart."

Finally, after several minutes I was able to somewhat compose myself but I still refused to let go of him. Kissing him over and over and over I declared.

"I love you! . . . I love you! . . . I love you!"

When he said he loved me too, it brought about another crying spell from me.

Then we had the conversation we should have had a long time ago.

He told me of his belief that I was just using him to fulfill some sort of short time desire of wanting him to satisfy a selfish need. He explained to me he fell in love with me in spite of feeling that 'he wasn't in my league'.

"You were out of my class both socially and economically." He told me.

"I felt with all your money you could buy anything you wanted, me included. But I couldn't help myself. I fell in love with you."

"So I reached a decision. I would disappear from your life. Then you would be able to find someone else with which to spend the rest of your life. Someone in your . . ."

I stopped him right there. "You were right! That's exactly what I was doing. I was using you to fill some childish, selfish desires on my part. I used my father to 'fix' things for me. Just as he always did."

"He fixed it so you would be selected to escort me out of Iraq. Then he arranged for you to have to escort me home from Germany. There was no escort waiting for me at Ramstein."

"Then when you were shot in Mannheim I got scared. I could have been the cause of your death. Just because you were someone I wanted for a short term fling."

"Then you recovered and told me you would fulfill your obligation to escort me home I sort of forgot about those feelings, to my shame. When I purchased the airline tickets home for us I wasn't trying to impress you. I have always flown first class."

"You did give me a little pause for thought when you commented to me."

"Really, Emily, really. First class?"

"Then when we got home I forgot about everything. All I wanted to do was show you off to my friends. Then at the welcome home party when Quentin Reynolds said those hurtful things to you I thought he was going to ruin everything."

"But then what he said did something to me. I saw the real me. Selfish, self-centered, controlling. Someone who used people to get what I wanted. I didn't like what I saw."

"The day you left to go back to Iraq I realized for the first time what I was losing. Then your letter really drove home the truth about me to myself."

"That's when the nightmare started. Every night the same nightmare. You were dead and everyone was pointing their finger at me. I caused you to die."

"I wrote you a letter but it was returned as undeliverable/return to sender. I was devastated. I thought you might have been killed."

"I still had your mother's phone number. So I called her. She told me you were alive and had come back home to finish your degree. No matter how much I cried and implored. She wouldn't tell me where you were."

"In the letter I wrote you I . . . ."

"Stop. I know what you wrote," he said pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket. "It's why I came back."

With a confused look on my face I stuttered, "what . . . how did you get that?"

"Your dad fixed something for you one more time." He replied with a smile on his face.

The rest of the afternoon was spent just talking and alternately kissing and hugging each other.