Promises to Keep Nan Rossiter (books for 7th graders .txt) đź“–
- Author: Nan Rossiter
Book online «Promises to Keep Nan Rossiter (books for 7th graders .txt) 📖». Author Nan Rossiter
“I guess I needed it today, Dutch,” he whispered. He looked at the picture of his grandfather on the drawing table and then remembered the jewelry box. Had he really had the presence of mind to put it away? Everything had happened so quickly, so he couldn’t be sure . . . but he must’ve, thank goodness. He really wanted to surprise Maeve!
29
“ARE YOU HUNGRY?” SUE ASKED AS THEY LEFT BEAU BARTHOLOMEW’S office.
“Starving,” Mason replied. “Those cookies were really good—I could’ve eaten the whole plate, but I thought better of it because they seemed a little possessive of their baked goods.”
“Especially your mom’s apple pie,” Sue said, laughing, as she unlocked her car.
Mason nodded. “I have her recipe, and she showed me several times how to make her crust . . . maybe I’ll try to bake one and bring it over. They were so nice.”
“They were,” Sue agreed. “So, where should we go for lunch?”
Mason shook his head and shrugged. “You pick.”
“Cantaberry?”
“That sounds good. I haven’t been there in a long time.”
“Want to see if Ali wants to meet us?”
“She’s not working?” he asked, knowing Ali’s job as a lifeguard kept her very busy in the summer.
“Nope, she has the day off.”
“That would be great. I’ll text her,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting at a table by the front window, waiting for Ali and scanning their menus. “Know what you’re gonna have?” Sue asked, taking a sip of her iced tea.
Mason frowned thoughtfully. “I’m definitely having a bowl of tomato basil soup, so maybe I’ll do the half sandwich and soup combo.”
“I’m sure you can eat a whole sandwich.”
He smiled. “Probably.” Then he looked up. “By the way, lunch is on me.”
“Oh, no it isn’t!”
“Mm-hmm,” he said. “You came with me . . . and you’ve done so much, and besides, I just came into a small fortune.”
“You did that,” Sue said, laughing. “But I still want to treat.”
“Nope. It’s on me,” he said firmly.
“Okay, okay,” she said, relenting. “You’re just like your mom—stubborn!”
Mason laughed and sipped his iced tea.
“It’s nice to hear you laughing, Mason,” she said, her kind eyes seeking his.
Mason nodded. “It’s good to laugh,” he said. “Before Mom died, I didn’t think I would ever laugh again, but she said I would, and I should’ve known she’d be right.”
“She usually was right,” Sue said, smiling. “She was a very wise lady.”
Mason nodded.
“How do you really feel about her asking Mr. Bartholomew to send in your deposit?”
Mason shook his head. “It’s just like her to do something like that, and, honestly, I was kind of upset at first, but how can I be mad? I was such a mess back when it was due, and I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to go to college, but now, I’m faced with fall and winter alone in an empty house, working a dead-end job, and I guess I might go a little crazy. I also know how much she wanted me to go, so now, at least it’s an option.”
Sue nodded, and then paused, studying him. “Mason, I know it’s not my business . . .”
Mason looked up. “The envelope,” he said with a half smile, finishing her thought.
She nodded, but she didn’t want to press him, so she waited.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know she wants me to find her—I mean, she made me promise, but I’ve never understood why it’s so important. After all these years, what’s the point? She didn’t want me. She didn’t want to be part of my life, so how do I know she’d want me to reach out now, and why should I let her be part of my life?”
Sue bit her lip. “I completely understand why you feel that way, hon. It’s natural to think she didn’t want you . . . or want to be part of your life. She gave you up, right?”
Mason nodded.
“But it wasn’t that simple. Your mom and I were both there that day. I wasn’t in the delivery room like your mom, but I saw her being brought in, and she was so young—late teens at most—and she looked terrified.”
“That’s no excuse,” Mason said. “Lots of teenage women—and men—raise children.”
“They do,” Sue agreed, “but not every one of them is ready.”
“Maybe she should have thought about that before she got pregnant.”
Sue nodded. “Maybe she should have, Mason, but people aren’t perfect, and you don’t know what was going on in her life.”
Mason leaned back in his seat and folded his arms, obviously unmoved.
“When you came into the world, Mase, you didn’t even weigh four pounds, but you were perfect in every way, and your mom—who was such a pro with preemies—had you cleaned up in no time, and after she had you all settled, she went back to the young woman’s room and found her crying. She told your mom she had a summer job at her college and couldn’t possibly keep you—she hadn’t told anyone she was pregnant, not even her parents, and she wasn’t ready to be a mom. She said she was planning to look into adoption but she hadn’t had the chance. She’d been hiking when she started to have labor pains and realized you’d decided to come early. Your mom—knowing she was giving you up for adoption—whisked you out of the delivery room before she saw you or even knew if you were a boy or girl. That evening, she was absolutely beside herself and begged your mom to let her hold you, but your mom told her it was better if there was no contact and, in fact, it wasn’t allowed. But later, your mom gave in, and with me keeping watch, she smuggled you into her room.
“You were this tiny little bundle with a copper halo, and we could tell you were going
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