Promises

Promises
by
Sunshine


"Daddy, wait!" The little girl ran down the driveway, her tousled blond hair streaming behind her. Tiny bare feet slapped softly against the cold cement, nearly tripping on the hem of a pink, flannel nightgown.

Nathan turned toward her, the frown he wore almost melting away as he saw her pretty, heart-shaped face. Even as he bent to hug his daughter, his mind began calculating how to make up for this interruption. Time was money, and he was in a hurry to get to work. He needed to give her everything he hadn't had, everything he had wanted. He was determined that her childhood be what his was not.

Small hands cupped his cheeks, making his eyes meet hers. "Please, Daddy..." she said, those eyes pleading into his. "please... remember it's my birthday dinner. Please be here, tonight." Each please was accentuated with a gentle squeeze of his face.

"I will, Pumpkin. I will." He said, starting to pull away.

Her hands tightened, pulling him back. "No, please," her voice more urgent, "promise...promise you'll be here."

"I promise. Now, I really need...."

"Pinky swear?" Still not letting him go, "Pinky swear, Daddy? Important things need a pinky swear sealed with a kiss." She looked at him hopefully, really asking if she was important enough for a pinky swear.

"OK, Pumpkin. I pinky swear." He said quickly, offering the necessary digit.

After linking hers to his and a quick kiss, she threw her tiny arms around his neck, holding him there a moment longer. She breathed into his ear, "You mean it, this time, don't you Daddy? You pinky sweared." Her voice became excited. "This time, you mean it."

Three more slightly damp kisses, and he was free. Eyes shining, she scampered back into the house. Nathan gazed after her for a moment, then quickly got in the car and drove away. He still made it to work with 15 minutes to spare.

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Tammy moved her feet slightly, trying to find a better position in the uncomfortable chair. She faced the captain's desk. The door was closed, for privacy, she supposed. Although, everyone out in the main office probably knew exactly what was being said to her.

"You haven't written a ticket for two weeks! When was your last arrest? Are you even working on any case worth working on? Do you even...."

Tammy looked straight ahead, blankly, trying to block out Captain's yelling. He had worked himself into quite a tizzy, waving his arms, and was rather red faced. She didn't have to listen. She had heard it before.

"If your father hadn't been such a respected member of this force for forty years, you would have been transferred long ago. Transferred, if you were lucky..... booted out, more likely!"

Tammy blinked at the mention of her father, and looked down. She could feel her color rising, her stomach clenching. Yeah, she'd heard this before too. She already knew what a disappointment she was to her family. She should've been tougher, stronger. She should've been a better shot, instead of hating guns. She should've been athletic, instead of soft. She should've loved police work. She should've been a boy.

"You've ridden your father's reputation long enough. If you don't pull your weight around here, you'll be at a desk." His voice held a tone of satisfied finality.

Tammy looked up quickly, horrified. A desk was unthinkable. Not only would that add more shame to be hashed over at every Friday dinner, it would take away the only part of her job she liked. She would no longer have contact with the people that made her existence bearable. Patrolling the neighborhoods, interacting with the shop owners, the residents, and even the homeless, gave her a feeling of worth. She believed that she was keeping the peace with her presence of authority. Only she knew that the fantasy would end if she actually had to stop a crime. Even the hoodlum teens were responding to her, and the crime rate in her neighborhoods had decreased. Of course, that went unnoticed in the precinct. She wouldn't survive at a desk. The negative feelings from her fellow officers would slowly kill her.

She blurted out the first thing she could think of to stop that train of thought. "Um, Ok, Sir. I'll try harder. I promise. I'll write at least five tickets today."

Startled to get a response from her, the captain stared, his eyes still bulging from his excited rant. "Oh....um.....alright, then.......just get to it. Five tickets, now. I'm gonna hold you to that. So..........move!" He barked at her when she didn't stand up right away.

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At 5:26 pm Nathan was frantically trying to fix a computer problem so he could go home. His stress level was high. He knew he had let his daughter down in the past. In fact, he couldn't stop hearing her say that this time he really meant to keep his promise. He saw her eyes pleading, felt her sweet kisses, realized he had messed up. Desperation grew as each minute passed. When his cell phone rang, he knew it was his wife, checking on his progress.

"Yeah, hon. I know, I know......"

"You're still there aren't you?" Her voice was flat and quiet.

"Yes, but....."

"You're going to do it again, aren't you?"

"No, I'm trying....."

She hissed into the phone. "When are you going to realize that trying doesn't count? It's the doing that counts."

Nathan was grateful she wasn't yelling. At least she was trying to keep Tessa from hearing. Let her hold on to hope as long as possible.

"You're despicable!" She continued, "Do you realize what you've done? She is going around singing 'Daddy's gonna be here. He pinky sweared.' She is going to be devastated!" The last sentence came out in a squeak as she tried to yell and whisper at the same time.

"I'm leaving now..."

"Too late. Dinner is at six. My parents will be here in a few minutes." She was back to sounding quiet, clipping her words off as if they were offensive.

"Honey, I'll be right....." He was talking to air. She was gone. Nathan literally ran to his car, praying for light traffic.

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Tammy was sitting in her squad car, thoroughly depressed. She had only given out three tickets and been talked out of four. She watched traffic from an empty lot, along a busy street, five blocks south of a tricky intersection. Daydreaming a little, she thought about the other day when she was visiting the local elementary school. She especially enjoyed the kindergarten class. One particularly cute little girl had given her a dandelion to thank her for visiting. She remembered her sweet heart-shaped face and big, blue eyes. Tammy was impressed with the girls thoughtful questions during the stranger-danger presentation. Shaking herself out of the daydream, she reminded herself that if she didn't produce two more tickets, there wouldn't be any more elementary school visits. That's when a car weaving in and out of traffic caught her attention.

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Nathan weaved in and out of traffic, making good time. He would be late, maybe 20 or 30 minutes. Hopefully, the excitement of grandparents and presents would distract Tessa. His wife would know, and so would her parents. He would fix that later. He had to get home. He had been so wrong. Nathan could see now, that presents, a big house, and nice clothes meant nothing to a child that just wanted her father. He had been so stupid. Desperate to make it right, he tried again to call his wife, swerving onto the shoulder a little, trying to see the numbers on the phone. She wouldn't pick up. Looking in the left side mirror to make a lane change, he didn't see the police car pull out behind him.

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Tammy saw the weaving driver, with a cell phone in one hand, go up onto the shoulder and back into the street. She immediately pulled out to get behind him. "Well, here's another one." She thought, about to turn on the siren. Then his driving settled as he seemed to put the cell phone down. Tammy watched him through his back window, hesitating. Maybe he would be alright now. As they approached a busy intersection, the light turned yellow then red. Instead of stopping, the driver sped up, trying to make the light. Swearing loudly, Tammy flipped on the siren.

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"Well, sir. You ran a red light, there. I need to see your...."

"I..I know...I know. I'm sorry, officer." Handing his license to her, "I just really need.....I need to get home...I.." He stuttered.

"Is there an emergency. Is something wrong?" Tammy glanced sharply at him. He was agitated. Had he been drinking? She looked down at the license. It read Nathan Reed..

"No, no....not really, well, sort of.... Oh, I don't know..I just need...." he broke off, punching numbers into his phone again. "She won't answer! I'm late..... and now...." He looked at Tammy, desperate and helpless at the same time.

Looking into the car, Tammy saw the present on the seat next to him. She could see the sweaty sheen of his face, his eyes darting around. She needed to calm him down. Looking at his license again, she noticed it was in one of those clear, plastic picture holders you can slip in a wallet. She turned it over to see the dandelion girl smiling back at her.

"Hey, I know this little girl!" Tammy startled Nathan into looking at her and really focusing for the first time.

"Um, uh, you do?" He blinked at her. "That's my daughter."

"I was at her school the other day, talking about stranger-danger. She is very sweet."

"Yes, yes. She is sweet."

"Is that present for her?"

"Yes," he reached over to touch it, "yes, it's her birthday."

Tammy kept her voice calm and soothing. It was working. Keep him talking, thinking, and calm him down. This was something she was good at. Nathan took a deep breath and relaxed into his seat a bit.

"You know," Tammy said gently, "it's better to get there late and in one piece."

"I know." Another deep breath, then he looked up with a smile. "I guess you'd better give me my ticket."

"Well, maybe you could just drive safe from now on, and go celebrate that birthday."

"Thank you, officer. I will, I promise."

Tammy shook her head as he drove off, now in perfect control and at the correct speed, realizing she needed to find another ticket.

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At least, that's how Tammy wished the conversation had gone. She wished she hadn't hesitated. She wished she had really pulled him over and had the chance to talk to him. By the time Tammy saw that he was going to run the light, it was too late. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at the picture of the little girl from Nathan's wallet, and then over at his mangled body in his equally mangled car. His eye's were open and desperate, his face bloody. His broken hand still clutched a piece of the cell phone. The brightly wrapped birthday present next to him, with the tag reading 'Love, Daddy', was barely visible under all of the shattered glass and blood.
Oh God, she hated this job. Maybe a desk would be better. Maybe she should just give up and do something else. Anything would be better than telling dandelion girl that her daddy was never coming home.