A Promise for Always

Nellie skipped into the barn, humming as she swung the wooden bucket by her side. “Daisy!” she giggled, peering over a stall door at the pretty brown cow inside. “’Tis milking time.”

“Nellie!”

The little girl spun around, dropping her bucket and clapping her hands in excitement. “Walter– Oh, goody! I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” she exclaimed.

“Well, I’m here now,” the tall young boy laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the loft ladder. “Don’t you want to play ‘I Spy’? We never got to finish our game last time.”

Nellie hurried to the ladder, her petticoats flouncing around her ankles as she scrambled up. “Of course I do. Robert can milk Daisy himself,” she decided as she reached the top. Stretching her hand down, she grabbed Walter’s shoulder and pulled him up. “Hurry! We mustn’t waste time, or we’ll never finish the game!”

Walter chuckled and jumped up into the loft, then settled in a pile of hay beside Nellie, sticking a short blade of hay between his teeth. “Now, where were we?”

“Wait, Walter!” Nellie squealed excitedly, clapping her hands and bouncing up and down. “You’ll never guess what Father did!”

“Oh? Let me guess, he said you can come to the town fair next week?” Walter said teasingly.

“Oh, phooey, how’d you guess?” Nellie pouted, dropping in the hay beside him.

“I’m the one who talked him into it.” Walter beamed and threw a handful of hay at her. “I knew how much you wanted to go, so I–"

“Oh, Walter!” Nellie shrieked, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a hearty kiss on the cheek. “You wonderful boy!”

Walter laughed and pushed her away, reaching up to pluck a blade of hay out of her hair. “What are friends for?”

Nellie sighed happily and settled back in the hay, folding her hands behind her head. “You’re the best friend I could ever have,” she told him with a grin.

“Always?” He held out his pinky finger.

“Always,” she agreed, locking their fingers together with her own pinky.

…

Four years later

In and out. In and out.

Nellie sighed and set down her embroidery, gazing out the kitchen window at the golden hay-filled hills beyond. “Ma, may I go out and play? I’ve nearly finished my embroidery.”

Her mother glanced up from her baking. “Yes, and take the scraps to the pigs while you’re out there.”

Nellie jumped up, grabbed the bucket of scraps, and skipped out the kitchen door. She stopped by the pigsty and dumped the scraps into the feeding trough, then she hiked up her skirt and ran to the barn.

The cows lowed as she burst through the door. She clambered up the loft ladder into the haymow and jumped into the pile of hay at the top.

“Nellie? Are you up there?”

“Walter?” Nellie crawled over to the ladder and looked down at him, grinning. “I was wondering where you’ve been! Come up,” she urged.

“I… can’t. My ma is inside with your mother, and she wants me to hurry.” His face saddened. “I’m here to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” Nellie gasped and hurried down the ladder, staring at her friend with wide eyes. “But… but where are you going?”

“I’m fifteen now, and– Mother wants me to start an education. I’m going to live with my father in Boston and go to school there,” he explained in an upbeat tone, but his sad eyes contradicted his voice.

“B-Boston? You’re leaving?” Nellie shook her head in disbelief, covering her mouth with her hands. “No– You can’t go, Walter!”

He grabbed her hands and lowered his voice, speaking urgently, “Listen, Nellie–"

“Walter!” his mother’s shrill voice pierced the air. “Come! The coach is waiting!”

Nellie followed the boy out of the barn, her eyes wide with shock as she watched him climb into the coach. “Walter…” Her eyes filled with tears, and she sniffled back a sob.

“I’ll be back, Nellie. I promise,” he said fervently. “Remember? Best friends always.” He held out his pinky finger through the window, reaching for her.

She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and linked their fingers together. “Always,” she agreed softly.

The coach rolled forward as the driver urged the horses into a walk, ripping the two children apart. Nellie sprinted after it, holding her gingham skirt in her hands as she ran.

“Don’t forget, Walter!” she cried, waving her handkerchief over her head. “Don’t forget!”

…

Eleven years later

Nellie brushed the broom across the kitchen floor, gathering a small pile of dirt by the door. She paused for a moment to check on the pie baking in the oven and sighed blissfully.

This’ll be the best pie the fair has ever tasted.

A knock echoed through the farmhouse, and Nellie heard her mother call her name.

“Coming, Ma!” Nellie wiped her hands on her apron, checked the pie again, and brushed her loose curls out of her face before heading to the parlor.

The low mumble of voices greeted her as she walked in, and she quickly brushed the flour off her dress before walking into the room.

Two strangers sat on the parlor chairs, and her mother reclined in her cushioned armchair, entertaining them. She looked up as Nellie walked in. “Nellie, my dear, say hello to our guests.”

Nellie curtseyed quickly, observing the guests in curiosity. The old woman seemed familiar, but the young man was foreign to her. His immaculate suit and waxed moustache gave him a sophisticated air… and it made Nellie want to slap that smug look off his face.

She stifled a chuckle and nodded her head. “Hello! Welcome to our humble abode,” she greeted them, side-eyeing the man.

“Humble, indeed,” she heard him snort as he stood up and walked to the lady’s chair. “Perhaps we should introduce ourselves.”

Nellie’s mother perked up. “Oh, good heavens, I nearly forgot. Nellie, this is Clara Allens and her son, Walter.”

Nellie felt her jaw drop as she stared at Walter. “Goodness… you’ve grown up,” was all she managed to say.

A tiny smirk played on his lips under that ridiculous moustache. “So have you. I suppose it has been a while.”

Nellie felt a spark of anger flare inside her, and her face flushed. “I suppose so,” she said coolly. In other words, you forgot.

But she hadn’t. She remembered everything. She remembered every broken promise, every happy memory, every laugh, every tear.

“Excuse me… My pie is burning.” Her voice cracking, she dipped her head to the two guests and left the room.

Instead of heading for the kitchen, she exited the house through the back door and stomped over to the old, neglected barn. Her favorite play place as a child. Where she and Walter had spent so many hours together…

She sighed and hugged herself, then entered the run-down, abandoned barn. Walking over to the loft ladder, she climbed up and plopped onto the floor, the old hay long gone by now.

She buried her face in her hands. I’m an idiot. Eleven years? Of course he doesn’t remember.

The barn door creaked open, and she sat up, wiping her misty eyes quickly.

“Nellie?” Walter’s voice called. “Are you in here?”

Nellie huffed, scooted over to the top of the ladder, and looked down. “Yes. Now go away.”

He chuckled and began to climb the ladder. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

“Well, you’d definitely know,” she snapped before thinking.

He sighed and sat down beside her, brushing dirt off the floor with his handkerchief. “I meant to come back, you know.”

“But you didn’t.” She pushed herself away from him and hugged her knees to her chest. “And that’s the problem.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he said in a cold tone. “It’s nothing to sulk over.”

“It was a promise, Walter! And you broke it.” She stood up and turned around, glowering down at him. “Are you sure that’s nothing to sulk over?”

He also stood and shook his handkerchief out. “I’m fairly certain a few broken childish promises won’t change anything for either of us.”

“It changed for me,” Nellie said earnestly. “Ever since Father died nine years ago, we’ve had to let go of every farmhand and servant. Now, only our housekeeper remains to help me keep our life together. I used to live every day hoping you’d come back, and everything would get better. What have you been doing? Partying with your high-and-mighty Boston folks? I suppose you're married now?”

He had the grace to look a bit ashamed, but he merely cleared his throat and answered, “No, actually, still single as ever. And I’ve taken over my father’s business since he passed away. Good products and a good profit.”

“I bet that’s all you care about now, isn’t it?” she accused. “Profit? Power? Prestige?”

“Nellie, for Pete’s sake, I’m sorry. I got busy. Can I be blamed for that?”

“You can be blamed for forgetting!” she cried. “Do you even remember what we told each other?”

“I do!” he thundered and stepped closer, holding out his pinky finger. He softened his tone. “I do, Nellie. Best friends?”

She blinked away tears and glared at him. “You have forgotten.”

His face settling into a scowl, he mumbled, “Women.” Raising his voice, he kept his pinky finger extended. “Best friends, always. Happy?”

There was a moment’s silence before she stepped forward, locked pinky fingers with him, and smiled. “Very much so.”

“Good riddance,” he said, his voice holding an amused edge.

She looked down at their intertwined fingers, then popped up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “That’s more like the Walter I know.”

“You’ve hardly changed a bit,” he chuckled and wiped the tears from her eyes with his handkerchief.

“Can’t say the same for you, Mr. Allens,” she teased and patted their interlocked hands. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe my pie is actually burning by now.”