Authors: S.R. Grey
“Yes, you do, mister,” Jaynie retorts, clearly teasing. “About time you start carrying your weight around this joint.”
I give her a mock-salute. “Yes, ma’am, you are correct. I have been remiss in my duties to keep our apartment in tiptop shape.”
We bust out laughing, but I know what’s real. Jaynie is only adding me to the cleaning schedule to keep her on course.
No matter. Whatever works for her is cool with me.
The new schedule works out great. Well, mostly. The only times Jaynie has an urge to compulsively clean is after she’s had a nightmare. Luckily, her bad dreams have lessened considerably. We deal with only one a week, sometimes two.
And that, my friends, is much better than one every night.
Jaynie
I’
m feeling good. Really good. My life feels like it’s been returned to me. But sometimes it’s weird to make my own decisions. I spent so much time under the care and authority of others that it feels odd not to have to ask all the time, “Is this okay?”
One thing I do want input on, however, Flynn’s input specifically, is a decision I must make at the end of May.
“Hey, I need to ask you something,” I say to Flynn one weekend morning when we’re lounging around in bed.
He leans over and kisses my forehead. “What’s up, babe?”
I sit up. “I received a call from the women’s clinic the other day.”
“Okay…and…?”
“It was a reminder call that it’s time for me to go in and get another birth control shot.”
I look down and away, but Flynn tilts up my chin so he can see my face. “What do
you
want to do?” he asks.
I sink down into the pillows and turn to him. He lies down as well, putting us face-to-face.
“I don’t know if I should bother,” I say. “I mean, the doctor was pretty adamant that I will never be able to have kids. So really, what’s the point of staying on birth control?”
“None that I see,” he says quietly, his voice resigned.
God, I still feel so bad that I’ll never be able to give this great guy kids. And damn it, Flynn would be so good with our children. How he is when he’s with Cody and Callie shows me as much. He deserves to have children of his own someday, and I can’t help but feel guilty, knowing I will fail him on that.
“Flynn…” I close my eyes, unable to look at him. “I’m so sorry,” I choke out.
“Hey, hey, stop.” He gathers me in his arms. “It’s all right. Everything is fine.” Stroking my back, he reassures me that I am all he will ever need or want. “In this lifetime, or in any other,” he adds.
That leads me to my decision, finally. “I don’t want to get another shot.” I lean back so I can see Flynn’s face. “I may never get pregnant, but I don’t want to actively avoid it. Are you okay with that, though?”
He nods. “Yes, of course.”
And so it is decided.
With all this healing, I begin to feel more outgoing. I start to think about one thing I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I just never felt up to it, until now.
I want to meet Crick, Flynn’s friend. He’s a part of Flynn’s life, and I should get to know him. I inform Flynn of my desire, and together we make a plan to meet up with Crick the very next evening at a diner halfway between Lawrence and Forsaken.
On the way to the place, I confess, “I’m so nervous.” My knees bob up and down. “I hope Crick likes me.”
“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “Crick is going to love you.”
“You better be right.” I sigh. “I just want to make a good impression for you. I don’t want to come off like some scared little rabbit.”
Flynn laughs. “Babe, I’m sure Crick is just as nervous to meet you. Remember”—he glances over and holds my gaze—“we’re all broken here.”
That we are. And that’s what turns out to break the ice.
A short while later finds the three of us in a booth at the diner, laughing and talking, our dinner plates cleared. Flynn was right; I had nothing to worry about. Crick was way more nervous than I was about meeting. So much so that when we were initially seated, Crick ordered a Coke and proceeded to knock it over not ten seconds after it arrived.
“Shit, man,” he said as syrupy soda flowed everywhere.
His eyes flittered from Flynn to me as he nervously pulled napkins from the dispenser on the table.
“Sorry, miss,” he directed to me, his pale skin turning about twenty shades of red. “Please excuse my clumsiness. Oh, and my cursing.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re fine,” I assured him. I then grabbed napkins on my own and helped clean up the mess on my and Flynn’s side of the table.
Our waitress came over with a rag shortly thereafter and cleaned the table more thoroughly. She then brought Crick a new drink, and when she left he plucked up an ice cube from his lap and plopped it into his new soda, proclaiming, “Guess my clumsiness at least spilled the ice for us, yeah?”
Flynn busted out laughing. “Dude, you mean ‘broke the ice,’ not ‘spilled the ice.’”
The three of us couldn’t help but chuckle over the spilled-ice incident that did indeed ‘break the ice.’
Our conversation moved on from there, and as of the last few minutes we’re discussing our plans for the future. A topic that used to make me sad, but now makes me smile. Just knowing I
have
a future fills me with joy.
Noticing my grin, Flynn places his hand over mine. “Yeah, we got it all planned out,” he tells Crick.
“Do ya now?” Crick replies.
“Yep,” Flynn says. And then he proceeds to tell him, “Jaynie’s going to be making an appointment over at the community college in Lawrence. She’s ready to sit down with a career counselor and sign up for some classes. She has a dream, you know?”
Flynn is so proud of me. I hope I can live up to his expectations.
One day at a time
, I remind myself.
Crick smoothes back his stringy blond hair and asks me, “What’s your dream, Miss Jaynie?”
“I’m hoping to someday help kids who are in situations like the one Flynn and I were in.”
I’ve put more thought into what I want to do down the road, and I keep returning to the helping kids/social work idea. Flynn is fully onboard, of course. He’s my biggest cheerleader, in fact. He even completed all the financial aid forms for me online, using Bill’s computer.
Crick nods approvingly. “That sounds real nice. Giving back and all, that’s what life is all about.”
“For sure,” Flynn agrees.
Crick picks up a straw and taps it against the edge of the table like it’s a cigarette he’s flicking ashes from. He must be jonesing for an after-dinner smoke.
Flynn, watching Crick flick the straw, says to him, “Hey, man, if you need to go outside and grab a smoke, we’re fine with that. I’d join you, but I’ve finally quit for good.”
“Good for you,” Crick says, his tone revealing he’s genuinely pleased for Flynn. “I’m actually trying to quit for good myself.” He holds up the straw. “Been collecting these everywhere I go. I read somewhere that after you’ve weaned yourself from the nicotine, it’s mostly missing the action of smoking that gets ya started again.”
“Hmm,” Flynn says, “that kind of makes sense.”
We stay and talk for a while longer, but eventually we must go our separate ways. Not before making plans to meet up again sometime soon, though.
In the car, as we start heading home, I scoot over and lean my head against Flynn’s shoulder. “Tired, babe?” he asks.
“A little,” I reply. “Mostly, though, I feel relaxed. We had such a good time. I really like Crick. He’s a good guy.”
“He is,” Flynn agrees. And then, with a smile creeping into his voice, he says, “And as for relaxed, relaxed is good. No. You know what?”
“What?”
“Relaxed is more than good. It’s great.”
“It is,” I agree, yawning.
On the way home that night, I think about how our lives are changing, all in positive ways. The only thing hanging over our heads is the Allison Lowry situation.
But that’s a worry best saved for another day.
Flynn
W
e put it off and we put it off…
And then one evening, right before bed, Detective Silver calls with the news that
it’s
happening. That which we’ve allowed ourselves to forget as we focused on learning to enjoy our lives is about to occur—Allison is slated to be released from prison in July.
When I hit ‘end’ on the devastating call, Jaynie is just coming out of our bathroom. I inform her of the bad news immediately.
She pales and mutters, “That’s only a month away, Flynn.”
“I know.” I take a seat on the edge of our bed and place my head in my hands.
“We have to do something,” she says.
“Like what?” I mutter, out of options.
Jaynie throws her hands up in the air. “I don’t know, Flynn.” She sounds exasperated. “I guess we better do what we
should
have done before. We need to return to Forsaken and search the hell out of that property. There has to be something we missed.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, but there must be something.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” I run my hands down my jeans and stand. I always think better on my feet. As I begin pacing our small room, I give voice to my burgeoning thoughts. “We never properly searched the new barn, we know that. It was too dark the night we were up there to really see anything. You remember that night, right?”
My eyes meet Jaynie’s and she blushes ever so slightly. She’s so cute. “I remember everything about that night, Flynn,” she whispers.
“As do I,” I reply. I go to her and urge her to sit with me on the bed.
Neither of us will ever forget the time we spent in the forest, the way we re-connected. And hell, whatever we did that night worked, as both of us are doing better than ever. But we won’t be faring all that well if Allison is released from prison. That bitch will surely seek out vengeance on Jaynie. Her hatred for my girl runs deep. I always wondered why that was, but knowing what we now know, it all makes sense. Jaynie resembles Debbie, the missing girl Allison most likely offed.
“I like our new life, Flynn,” Jaynie says as she leans her head against my shoulder. “I don’t want it to be ripped apart. Everything always seems to get taken from us.”
She starts to cry and I hold her in my arms. “Not this time,” I say, determined. “Nothing is going to change. I swear to you, sweetheart, I will not allow us to fall back apart.”
“But we already are,” she sobs. “Or at least I am. I haven’t cried in weeks, and”—she lifts her head from my chest so I can see her puffy and tear-streaked face—“look at me now. This is me backsliding, Flynn.”
“You’re not backsliding, Jaynie. I won’t let you.”
And that is when I promise her that I will do everything in my power to make sure Allison remains locked up. No matter what it takes. Hell, I’ll plant the damn evidence if it comes to it. And Jaynie doesn’t know this, but I have the means to do exactly that. That’s been my back-up plan for a while now.
Still, I hope it doesn’t come to what would definitely be the commission of a crime, since the only thing worse than Allison’s early release from prison would be for
me
to end up behind bars. I’d be unable to protect Jaynie, not to mention I’d be breaking every promise I’ve ever made to her.