Today's Promises (16 page)

We need to address the elephant in the room. Or car, as it were.

Softly, I murmur, “You don’t want to lose me, do you, Flynn?”

“No.” He buries his face in his hands. “Fuck no.”

I’m emotional, and so is he, but we need this all out on the table. “We’re all we have in the end,” I whisper, suppressing a sob. “And we know we can’t lose each other.”

“I’d die if I lost you,” he chokes out. He hits the steering wheel with his fist. “Mentally, physically… In any goddamn way, Jaynie, losing you will kill me.”

“But you need me whole,” I whisper. “Me fucked up like I’ve been is no good.”

“I just want you to feel happiness again. And it seems the longer this shit goes on, and the continued bad outcomes, the more elusive that becomes. I want you to know what it’s like to not have nightmares all the time, to not feel hungry, even when you’re full. I want you to want me because you love me, not because my dick in you makes you feel full.”

“Flynn…”

“No, seriously, Jaynie. The way we’ve been living has to stop. Or at least, we need improvement.”

Defensive and feeling prickly from hearing the truth, I say, “You have issues too, Flynn.”

“I’m not saying I don’t. But fuck me. All I care about is you. I love you. I want you to feel good again. I’d give anything, Jaynie, even my life, if it meant you’d heal.”

“Stop it,” I cry out. “Don’t even think such a thing. I’d never heal if you were gone.”

He yanks me to him, and I crawl over the center console so I can straddle him. It’s not sex we’re seeking, not today. We simply need to feel each other and be close. We are so tied together, and I realize then that his well-being is dependent on mine. I absolutely have to get my shit together. Not just for me, but for Flynn.

With my hands in his hair, I pull his head back so he has no choice but to look at me. This is me being strong, this is me fighting back. For me, but mostly for Flynn.

“I love that you have my back,” I say. “God, I love that. And I love your fierceness in protecting me. But I promise, Flynn, from here on out I’m going to be strong. It’s not going to happen immediately, and it’s not going to happen in a straight line. But I’m willing to do everything possible to heal.”

With his gray eyes watery, he says, “Promises are tricky things, Jaynie. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?”

“No. But I won’t fail you. Not on this. However, it has to start with going back to the Lowry house, especially now that we have this new lead. I’m going at this head-on. And I need to you to do that, as well.”

There’s something else I want to do back on that property, something that can only happen up in our secret spot, up by the cliffs and in the ring of trees. For now, though, I keep that desire quiet.

At last relenting, Flynn finally agrees. “Okay, Jaynie, We’ll go back.”

I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Let’s give this all a purpose,” I throw out, “something beyond healing. Let’s make this about closure, for everyone. Let’s find justice for Debbie, and get this case solved for the detective.”

He chuckles. “You realize you’re starting to sound like
you’re
the detective on the Canfield case.”

“I feel like it some days,” I joke. But then, in a more serious tone, I add, “Maybe I should think about becoming some kind of an investigator someday.”

Flynn smiles up at me—in support, not jest. “Maybe you really should.”

Our futures are important, we both know that. Flynn makes decent money working construction, but I can’t work the counter at the sandwich shop forever. It simply doesn’t pay enough.

In that moment, I make another decision, one I hope may also help me cope. It’s something that just may keep me sane through all of this, by giving meaning to this endeavor, no matter what the outcome.

I place my hands on Flynn’s shoulders. “Hey, I was thinking—”

“That could be dangerous,” he interjects.

He’s joking around again, which is good. We need levity in this conversation. That’s what we do sometimes when topics become too heavy.

Still, I smack his upper arm. “Hey, I’m trying to be serious here. I just had one of those… Wait, what do you call it when something you couldn’t figure out before suddenly becomes clear?”

Flynn shrugs, his muscles flexing beneath my hands. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh, wait, I know.” I lift one hand and snap my fingers. “An epiphany, that’s what I had.”

“Okay. Go on…”

“I may have just now figured out a way to cope with everything before us—the missing girl case, dealing with the detective, going back to the Lowry property…yet again.” My eyes meet Flynn’s curious gaze as he tries to anticipate what I’m getting at. He needn’t bother since I flat-out tell him, “I plan from this point forward to view this investigation like it
is
my own. I don’t know about becoming a detective down the road—that might be a bit too much for me, criminals and all that—but I think I’d like a job that involves helping children. I could someday maybe help kids who are lost, like how we were…and how we still are, at times.”

“I’m liking this idea, Jaynie,” he says.

Encouraged, I add, “I’d like to go to college someday and earn a degree. Maybe then I could become, like, a special investigator for social services.”

Flynn touches my cheek. “I think you can do anything you put your mind to, sweetheart.”

The unwavering belief he has in me gives me more strength than I ever knew I even had.

“Dream big, babe,” he adds.

“Yes, dream big.”

I call on all my reserves and, with a newfound confidence I’ve not felt in a while, I declare, “It’s settled, then. We’ll go back to the Lowry property, and we’ll keep going back, until the day comes when this case is solved. We’re going to do this for Debbie Canfield and to right all the wrongs of the past. But, most importantly, we’re going to do this for our own future.”

Flynn

W
e don’t inform Detective Silver of our intentions. Before we take that step, we need to know if we have anything. And that means one more search on our own.

When Jaynie and I choose to return to the Lowry property, it’s at the end of a warm day in May. The drive over is quiet and uneventful. We drive with the windows down, and the radio on, almost as if life is completely normal.

Until we arrive, that is.

Then it hits me, and I feel the need to make jokes. I don’t know why. Maybe because I have an alternative plan if we don’t find evidence, one that could end up putting me—and maybe Jaynie, but not if I can help it—in danger.

“Here we are,” I sarcastically murmur as I’m rolling up the window and cutting the ignition. “Back again at our one-time prison.”

Jaynie shoots me an admonishing look. “That’s not funny, Flynn.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s too soon for bad one-liners.”

She just rolls her eyes at me.

Even though we’re parked in front of the gate, Jaynie and I stay as we are. We make no move to get out of the car. Attempts at bad jokes aside, I know we need a minute to fortify ourselves. Coming here is never fun. And this is actually very serious business. Jaynie’s probably thinking the same as I am—thank God we got out of here alive. Debbie Canfield, the poor girl, never had that chance.

And that’s why we need to do what we’re about to do.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

“Uh-huh,” Jaynie replies.

Still, we stay as we are.

I look around, not all that anxious to exit the car myself. The surrounding fencing is more ragged than ever, filled with more gaps, all unevenly cut and of varying sizes. All this new damage despite several recently erected ‘No Trespassing’ signs.

Releasing a pent-up breath, I again prompt Jaynie. “Now are you ready?”

“Yeah, I think.”

I need her to move first, so I know she’s okay.

“Well, good, let’s get out of the car and get started. We’re losing light.” It’s only early evening, but it’s not summer. The days aren’t all that long this time of year. “Babe?” I prompt when my commentary is met with silence.

Eyes glued to the driveway, or rather to the work barn and the house that are visible up in the distance—the leaves on the trees are mere buds still—she mumbles something indecipherable.

Hand going to her knee, I ask, “Hey, you sure you’re up for this?”

Despite Jaynie’s numerous declarations of how this is something she
must
do in order to move forward, I have my doubts. Her nightmares have been worse than ever, and the compulsive cleaning and hoarding candy bars have reached epic levels. Just the other day, I opened the cabinet beneath the sink and sixty chocolate bars—yeah, I counted—tumbled out, right onto the spotless linoleum. Spotless I say because, damn, that floor has been gleaming.

I turn the key in the ignition, the resulting click loud as a gunshot in the silence. “I’m starting the car. We can come back another time. This is clearly a bad idea.”

Jaynie grabs my forearm, keeping me from turning the key the additional click that’ll bring our rattle-trap car to life.

“No, Flynn,” she says, softly but firmly. “We’re doing this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She sighs. “But there is something I want us to do before we start searching the barn.”

“What’s that?” I ask, clueless as to what this new development could be.

Hedging, she says, “Let me start by saying this is something I think we
need
to do, before we do anything else. I’ve thought about this for a long while, even before we ever agreed to come back. And definitely the other day, out in that empty lot.”

“Okay…”

“It’s something I can’t do alone. And I wouldn’t want to.
You
need to be there with me for this to work.”

I still have no idea what she has in mind, but I tell Jaynie what I will always tell her. “Anything. I’ll do anything you need me to do.”

She slides her hand down my forearm and grasps my hand. “Follow me, then.”

We step out of the car and, with Jaynie in the lead, crawl single file through a large gaping hole in the fence.

Then, with our hands clasped in solidarity, we start up the driveway.

We pass the house, the excavating equipment long gone. The search of the old barn is clearly over.

We continue on till the work barn fades into the distance. We trudge through the fields, the grass beneath our sneakered feet dewy from the heavy evening air.

We hike all the way up to the old barn, where all this time I assumed, for no particular reason, that this is where we’d stop. But no. Right past the old structure we cruise.

Finally, when we reach the tree line, and then step onto a familiar trail in the woods, a trail we’ve traveled many, many times, I have an idea of where we’re heading. Jaynie is leading me to our secret place. We’re going to the one location on this property that we can stomach. It’s a place that has healed us many times before.

“Ah, now I understand,” I murmur.

She smiles over at me. “I knew you would.”

With the reflective silence this journey now seems to require, we walk through the forest side by side. The foliage is sparse, but the trees themselves are huge and looming, the underbrush, a tangled and thick web of brown that requires us to step over or go around every few feet.

Nothing stops us, though. We know the way.

At last, we reach the edge of a soaring cliff. It’s the same cliff Jaynie jumped from on that fateful and final night.

She lets out a shaky breath and squeezes my hand. “This is it, Flynn. This is where we parted.”

Suddenly choked up with emotion, memories race at me as fast and furious as the dark water rushing below. I raggedly confess, “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again after that night.”

Jaynie turns to face me. She takes my other hand in hers. “I wasn’t sure I’d survive that jump, either. The water was so cold.”

She shudders and I lift her hands to rest on my shoulders, my own hands finding purchase at her tiny waist.

“You did it, though, sweetheart,” I say in a hushed tone. “You survived it all, Jaynie. The jump, the water, the journey to Lawrence… And now we have our life together, just like we always planned.”

She peers up at me, shaking her head. When she finally speaks, her voice is nothing short of pained. “I wasn’t supposed to be so broken, Flynn. I never dreamed I’d end up so fully and utterly fucked-up.”

Tears form in her eyes, turning the depths a placid green. I lose myself there for a minute, until I have to force myself back to the present.

“You’re not fucked-up,” I adamantly declare. “And you’re not broken. You’re a girl who’s been through a lot. And you’re healing. You are. It doesn’t happen overnight, you know?”

“I know,” she says. “But I haven’t been doing much healing lately, have I? It seems for every step I take forward, I take three or more steps back. The wounds just keep ripping open wider and wider, no matter how much fixing we try to do. And what if we turn up nothing in the barn? Where does that leave me, Flynn?”

Not finding anything worthwhile in the barn is a real possibility, but I’m sick of leaving our future in fate’s hands.

“How do we stop that from happening?” I ask, desperate for answers, desperate to help this girl I love. “Your pain is mine, Jaynie,” I say, feeling myself break further. “I feel when you’re hurting. I feel when you’re sad. I feel you right now, in fact, and I know you’re fucking dying inside, despite everything we talked about that night”