The Promise Basket – Conclusion
By
Rose and her mother worked quietly in the kitchen, a team of efficiency as they moved around each other in tandem. The counter was nearly clean, and the soft flow of twilight was visible through the window. Lara wiped her hands on the dishtowel and looked up at her daughter with a tender glance.
"Briar Rose, my child--he's a good one," she finally admitted. Rose nodded in agreement, and gave her mother a quick hug before putting the milk away in the refrigerator.
"Yes he is."
"I like him. He has gentleness to him. Very nice hands."
"I never thought of them that way, but yeah, he does have very nice hands. Artistic, sort of," Rose conceded. Her mother gave a smile, arching an eyebrow at her daughter.
"And I'll wager they've done more than just hold yours, too--" Before Rose could do more than shoot her a quick look, Lara added, "I wasn't born yesterday, Briar Rose--please tell me there's more in your heart than desire this time."
Rose struggled to find the right answer: she took a long moment to put away the foil-wrapped leftovers before answering.
"You know there is, Mama, but it's hard to look at it properly. It's like being in the water. It's all around you, and yet you're looking through it. Your vision gets filtered by what's in your heart without you even being aware of it. Mac's permeated so much of my perspective on things that it scares me. I don't know how I feel at times."
"Good answer," her mother replied, handing Rose a cookie tin to put in the high cabinets. "Tell me--if the filter was gone, what then?"
"You mean if we broke up?"
"I mean if he *died*. Tonight--hit by a car, choked on something, fell off down the stairs and broke his neck--"
"My God, Mom!" Rose stared in shock at her mother, her blue eyes wide, " Don't even *joke* about something like that! It's not funny--"
Lara took her daughter's hands in her own and squeezed them tightly. She waited until Rose drew in a breath in the epiphany of the moment.
"That's called love, Rose. If you cannot imagine a life without him, I suggest you prepare yourself to do something about it."
Stunned, Rose tried to think of something to say, but her mother merely winked and walked out of the kitchen, calling,
"Matti, time for a walk. Do you want to go too, Tavon, or is that Gameboy thing still your whole focus right now?"
Within a few minutes, MacGyver and Rose had the house to themselves. He sat on the sofa in the living room, absorbing the latest issue of Popular Mechanics.
"I still have a present for you, Mac--" she told him flirtatiously. He looked up at her.
"Something not for general viewing?" he guessed, a small grin on his face. She shrugged, and disappeared into the bedroom, returning with a flat package. Rose tossed it into his lap and perched lightly on the arm of the sofa looking down at him. He studied the present, thinking hard.
"Wayne Gretsky's autograph?" he asked.
"Close, but, not quite--" Rose laughed. Mac opened the paper, letting it fall away from the picture frame. He studied it for a long time, his expression hard to define. Rose waited.
"Wow . . ." came his assessment, finally. Rose giggled as he shook his head and repeated himself, "Wow."
"Evelyn and I spent an hour trying to explain to the lady what I wanted. She thought we were nuts, but finally she agreed to take it--so it's okay?"
"It's *more* that okay, Rose. It's . . . " MacGyver struggled to find the right words. He reached for her, tugged her into his lap and planted a kiss on her head.
The portrait photograph of Rose should have had a feather boa, or a nightgown, or something equally glamorous, but it didn't. Instead, Rose was dressed in one of MacGyver's hockey jerseys and practically nothing else, her long legs bare and elegant. She was lying on top of a goal net, jersey slipping off one shoulder, goalie gear scattered on the ice in front of the net. Her expression was sweetly flirtatious; the look of a pinup girl from an old Forties calendar. Mac sighed happily.
"I didn't think Christmas could get any better--"
"Thank goodness--that ice is *cold*, especially when you're barefoot."
"That's a *real* rink?" Mac brought the picture closer to study it. Rose nodded.
"Yeah, out in Anaheim. I wanted the genuine thing, you know, not some mock-up in a studio. Evelyn helped me talk to the manager and the photographer--everyone was really nice about it. There are a bunch of proofs of the shoot, but this one was really the best."
"There are *others*?"
"Well yeah--"
"Go get 'em," he ordered firmly. Rose shrugged.
She darted back to the room and returned with a packet, handing it to him with an embarrassed twinkle. He dumped them out and carefully studied each one. The first was Rose biting a hockey puck, teeth bared in a mock snarl as she winked at the camera. Another showed her lacing up a skate, the jersey hiked up enough to show her round bottom in lacy pink underwear. The third showed her in the penalty box, slamming her fists on the Plexiglas, her cleavage in full and delightful display. MacGyver drew in a deep, deep breath.
"I want 'em *all* framed, Rose."
"Really?"
"Positively. You're catering to my baser nature here, woman--" he looked up at her speculatively and growled a tiger growl at her. She felt her face grow warm under his gaze.
"And you're going to put them up--where?"
"Our bedroom--think of them as inspiration for a different sort of Stanley Cup performance, Brat."
It dawned on her then what pronoun he had used. She reached over to tweak his nose; he intercepted her fingers and planted a kiss on the knuckles as they locked gazes for a long moment.
"Love with you is a strange and wonderful thing, Miss Clowderbock--" he admitted.
"Likewise, Mister MacGyver--" she teased.
At three, the wind began to howl; Rose sleepily heard the sound of the storm whipping through the trees outside. She huddled into a ball, wishing she had Mac to steal warmth from. By morning, the outside world was buried in another two feet of snow. Matt made a crackling fire as he announced,
Power's off. First time this winter, too."
"What about the insects out in the bunker??" Mac asked, expertly feeding another log on the flames. Matt smiled.
"Battery operated generator built into the side of the house--I've learned over the years, lad, trust me. They'll be fine until the crews come out later this morning. We've got a gas stove, so hot food's not a problem either . . . Tavon, you ready to put that board to *real* use?"
"Sure! Except, aren't you too old to snowboard, Doctor Matt?" the boy demanded skeptically.
"Yes--but at least I can see where you fall and dig you out again, Short Stuff. Lara, heat up the cocoa and lay in the towels by the side door--the lad and I are off to make trails."
"I'll come too, " MacGyver announced. Rose sighed.
"Okay mom, I guess that leaves us free to do Yoga in peace and quiet. You know we have to get back tonight--"
"I know. We'll have a good lunch and then do the basket and pack up. Goodness, it seems so short a visit," Lara mused as she and Rose walked back to the kitchen.
All right--does everyone have his or her paper? Good. Sign your name and roll it up . . ." Matt directed. They were all sitting around the living room. Something soft was playing in the background, and the lights on the tree looked bright against the dark afternoon sky in the windows. Tavon printed his name in large letters; Lara helped him roll the paper up.
"Everyone ready?" she asked softly. Carefully, she picked up a tiny glass basket from the coffee table. It was fluted and lacy with the delicate shade of the inside of a seashell. Carefully she passed it to Tavon, who placed his name scroll in it. Rose took it next and added hers, then MacGyver and then Matt, who passed it back to Lara. She smiled.
Resolutions can be broken, since they are merely intentions directed at one's self. A promise however carries the weight of responsibility since it is made to another. For nearly thirty years, Matt and I have made promises to each other on a annual basis."
"Thirty years?" Tavon grew wide-eyed. Lara nodded.
"Oh yes, little man. We never asked for anything that couldn't be done, and we tried whenever possible to do it within a year. I gave up smoking on a promise. Matt built me my curio cabinet on a promise. Rose went back to college on a promise."
Matt looked around at the group.
"Are you certain you all want to do this? You don't have to, you know."
There were nods all around; Rose felt Mac's hand slip into hers and smiled to herself. Matt nodded, pleased that no one opted out.
"All right. Tavon, you're the first, so go ahead and draw a name."
The boy reached out and plucked a paper, unrolling it to reveal Matt's strong signature. He grinned.
"I got *you* Doctor Matt! So you have to make a promise to me, right?"
"Right. I hope you have something good--" the man watched at the boy walked over to him and laid a small brown hand on his chest.
"Take me to Disneyland this year--please?" the boy whispered. Matt grinned, and scooped him up, giving him a tight hug.
"I promise. We'll go on any day you ask."
Everyone smiled; part of the tension eased. Lara nudged the basket towards Rose, who reached out trembling fingers and pulled a bit of paper out. Lara's name showed up in curly cursive. Rose took a deep breath.
"Mom--okay, I've thought a lot about this, and this year I want you to get a complete physical. Mammogram, blood work, cholesterol test---the works."
Lara locked eyes with her daughter. She nodded.
"I promise--not that I'm any too delighted to do it, but--"
"Oh mom! You know how important this is--" Rose pleaded.
"Yes," the older woman sighed. "I do," She reached over and patted her daughter's hand gently.
Matt took the basket and pulled out a slip.
"MacGyver--" he pronounced, unrolling the paper. Mac looked up expectantly. Matt pursed his mouth and stroked his mustache thoughtfully as he studied the younger man sitting on the sofa, his clasped hands resting on his knees. Finally the older man spoke up.
"Promise me, lad, that you'll go back to visit your hometown sometime this year. You're a wanderer, but I think you need to get back in touch with your roots every once in a while."
MacGyver nodded in agreement, thinking it over.
"You're right Matt--I *have* been overdue for a trip back," came his slow response. "There never seems to be a good time and--well, I promise I'll do it." Matt nodded, and clapped him on the shoulder, smiling. Lara reached for the basket.
"My turn--" she pulled out a roll of paper and revealed Tavon's name in his large block printing. The boy took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.
"I *could* ask you to eat all your vegetables this year, but I won't--" Lara announced, sweetly. Tavon went over and butted his head against her shoulder; she gave him a hug.
"--Instead, I'm going to ask that we read together at least three times a week. Any books you want, little man--even Captain Underpants if that's what you really want."
"Really BabaLara?" Tavon looked up at her with a grin. She crossed her heart and nodded as the others laughed. Tavon gave a noisy sigh, but it was for show; he was beaming as he nodded.
"Okay, I promise--three times a week, no matter what."
"Good lad--BabaLara will have you reading Pushkin before you know it--"
"Pushpin?"
Everyone laughed. Matt settled back into his chair as Lara nudged the basket to Mac.
"Last promise--" she prompted. Rose shot a look at MacGyver, realizing there was only one little scroll of paper left in the basket. He picked it up lightly, unrolling it between his fingers and thumbs. He didn't speak for a moment, and everyone turned their gazes to Rose.
"Learn to hang glide?" Tavon offered, giggling. Lara joined in.
"No, if it was me, *I'd* make her visit the dentist."
Matt chuckled and leaned forward, thinking hard.
"I think it would be nice if she finished her Masters, frankly."
Rose winced at each suggestion; she turned to MacGyver, who fumbled in his pocket. Lightly he tossed something at her; she caught it reflexively, cupping her hands around the small velvet box.
"Marry me," he suggested lightly.
Everyone gasped. Rose's mouth dropped open, and she glanced down to the box and back up to his waiting face. She tried to say something, but nothing came out for a few seconds. Finally,
"---Uh huh?" she squeaked, blue eyes wide. He laughed, and gathered her into his arms as everyone rushed over to join in the hug.
"Oh Brat, if you could have *seen* your face--" came his rough, sweet whisper in her ear. She kissed the rest of his comment away as Lara began crying, and Matt rubbed her back. Tavon danced around everyone.
"Marry? That's a dumb promise! Hang gliding is still better," the boy snorted. Lara laughed, scooping him up in her strong hug.
"Never fear, Tavon, someday marrying will seem pretty good to you too--"
"No way! Girls are gross--except for you and Rose," he amended. Matt laughed. Rose opened the box with shaky hands, and gasped again at the sight of the ring.
A pair of half-carat diamonds sat in the double loop of a sideways figure eight of diamond dust. She touched it lightly as Mac cleared his throat and spoke.
"The diamonds are my mom's and my grandmother's--see, I inherited a matched set pretty much, and the mathematical infinity loop was my idea . . ." he trailed off as Rose burst into tears. Helplessly he looked at Matt and Lara, who none too gently shoved Rose into his arms.
"She's happy," her mother explained patiently, "It's a woman thing, Mac--"
"This ring is the most beautiful romantic perfect thing I've ever seen in my life!" Rose snuffled. "It even makes up for the stupid Betty Boop panties!"
Everyone laughed again, and Mac plucked the ring out of the box and slid it onto Rose's finger in one graceful move. She stared down at it through her tears.
"So you like it?" he asked gently. She looked up, astonished he could ask such a foolish question, but when she raised her face, Mac caught her chin in his hand and kissed her again, thoroughly and deeply.
Matt winked at his wife.
"Think we'll need to write this one down, Lara my love, or do you suppose our daughter will be mindful of it for the next twelve months?"
END