Chapter Four: Don't Make Promises You Can't Keep

Trick

I run my hand through my hair, trying to tame it. The top seriously needs a cut, and I know I look like I just rolled out of bed. They probably think I tied one on and left a woman asleep on my pillow. Fuck. As I bring my hand down, I see smudges of grease still in the corners of my fingernails. So much for making a great first impression.

"Any tips you want to give me?" I look over at the mom, hoping she responds to my question. I've always liked kids, but haven't really been around them before.

She shakes her head, her blonde hair falling in her face. "Sorry, I can't make this easier on you. It's her you've got to impress, not me."

So it's like that? I admit to myself I would have judged her had she not been such a mama bear to her daughter. "I can respect that."

The pointed look directed my way lets me know I better respect it.

The door to the room opens and I turn around. There are moments in your life no one can prepare you for. Snippets of time that make or break the future. As I get a glimpse of the little girl standing in the doorway, I realize with startling clarity this is one of those moments.

"Riley, meet Patrick," Becky puts her hand out, motioning for her to come further into the room, but Riley doesn't take it.

She glances up, looking at me through glasses that appear to be too large for her face, because she's so small. Her blue eyes are huge, and she reminds me of one of those cherubs on baby commercials. I offer her a smile, but she doesn't smile back.

"Mom," she looks behind me, her wide eyes on Hadley. "Why was he late?" Her voice is shaking, and I realize immediately the fear there. I've had that fear too many times in my life to count.

It's the fear you've been forgotten and left alone.

Hadley opens her mouth to answer, but as she does, I go down on one knee. Hopefully being more on her level will help Riley be more receptive to me.

"I was late," I admit, having a seat on the ground, sitting cross-legged. "See," I hold out my hands so she can take in the grease stains. "I'm a mechanic and I was up late last night trying to get someone's bike up and running. They had to get to work this morning."

Riley steps closer, inspecting my hands. "But that meant you were late," she accuses.

I could go into a whole explanation about how people pay me to make their experience better than my own, but at six I know she won't understand.

"I know," I clasp my hands in my lap. "And for that I'm very sorry. I can tell you I won't be late again."

She juts her lip out at me. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

This kid is so damn smart, and she's been hurt so deeply it makes my head ache. "I didn't promise," I point out. "I said I wouldn't do it again."

I reach out, flipping my hand over, palm side up, wondering if she'll take the bait. Will she allow me to have some sort of physical connection to her.

Her eyes look down at my palm, then back up into my face. She's not going to go for it, not yet anyway. "Why didn't you promise?"

As someone who's consistently been lied to their whole life, I recognize it in her wariness. "Promises are meant to be broken, right? Nobody ever keeps them."

She's quiet, taking in what I've said to her. "My mom does."

"But she's the only one, isn't she?"

Riley nods. "So let's not bullshit each other," I let it slip before I realize what I've done.

Riley giggles and I give her a grin. "Probably shouldn't have cussed, huh? Let's not say things we don't mean. I'll be honest with you; you be honest with me?"

There's a silence as she mulls it over. After what feels like a thousand hours she walks slowly over to me, and sits in front of me, her legs matching mine.

"Okay."

One word - four little letters - have never meant so much.

"Are you mad at me for being late?" I ask, because it's important to start this off truthfully.

"Yes," she whispers, almost as if she's scared to be honest.

"I'm mad at myself for being late, too."

The admission seems to make her eyes soften towards me, and I want to say more, but I'm unsure of what will make this better.

"Riles, we gotta go," I hear Hadley say in the background, saving all of us from the awkward silence that's starting to descend.

"Can we do this again tomorrow?" I ask, hoping they aren't going to shut me down. I think the kid needs it, just as much as I do. I hurry to stand, to act like the adult I am in the face of these ladies who've put me through the wringer.

"You'll have to be on time tomorrow," Hadley tells me. "She has piano lessons and we can't afford to miss them."

I wonder if she chooses the word afford because of the cost, or if Riley wasn't musically gifted and one missed session affects her in a bad way. As bad as I want to know, I decide to keep my mouth shut.

"Alright, can we meet here again tomorrow? Same time?"

Hadley looks at her daughter. The two of them have some sort of conversation with their eyes, and then Hadley nods. "We'll be here, go grab your bag," she motions with her head to her daughter.

After Riley is out of the room, she walks up to me, facing me down. Her head comes to my collar bone, but it doesn't seem to bother her.

"Whatever you do, don't disappoint her again. She's had enough of it in her life already. I'm willing to give this another shot, but if you're late tomorrow, you're going to have to enjoy your time behind bars."

I grab her shoulders and it's like I've been struck by a bolt of lightning. My heart beats double-time, and I find myself at a loss for words. Weird snippets of a life I've never had flash before my eyes and my breath comes faster. I look down at her, and notice her cheeks are flushed, her breathing is also accelerated.

It takes me a moment to grab hold of myself, but when I finally do, I push the words out from between my dry lips.

"I don't make the same mistake twice. Not anymore."

Her blue eyes, so much like her daughter's flash. "See that you don't."