“You said I could go if I made you a promise.”

She smiled.

Then she took both my hands.

“Don’t go to prom because six-year-old Chrissy made a promise.”

I waited.

“Go because eighteen-year-old Christina chooses him.”

I felt myself smile.

“Mom, that’s already why I’m going.”

Her face crumpled slightly.

“I know that now.”

PART 3 — The Promise We Chose to Keep

When Mom and I finally returned downstairs, Noah was waiting exactly where we had left him.

He looked from me to Mom.

“You took a long time.”

Mom walked directly toward him.

“Noah, can I have the first dance?”

His eyebrows rose.

“Mrs. Jane, this isn’t prom.”

I burst out laughing.

Mom ignored him and turned on music.

For the next thirty seconds, Noah attempted to guide her around the living room while she repeatedly stepped in the wrong direction.

Finally, he stopped.

“Mrs. Jane.”