Facing Reality

by Sarah Cole

  Erica nods once, and turns her head away from us while the doctor and nurses clean up. I stride over to where she is and rest my hand gently on her shoulder. When she glances up at me, I see a single tear running down her cheek and I wipe it away.

  “Thank you, Erica. Thank you for my little girl. I can never repay you for this.” I say truthfully.

  “Take good care of her, Flynn.” She says softly.

  “Are you having second thoughts?”

  She shakes her head, no. “No, not at all. I know this is right. I know she’s going to be loved, and I have plans – being a mom was never one of them. Just be sure she has a good life, and find her a good mama.”

  I know how she feels about the lack of relationship she had with her mom growing up, which I know is probably the main reason she never wants to become a parent. Probably that and her derelict father, but I know in her heart of hearts she’s just doing what she thinks is right here. And I honestly couldn’t agree more at this point. At one time, I was just the same way as her, selfish and unwilling to accept responsibility, but I grew up. From what I’ve come learn of Erica and her life now, she’s just the same as she always was.

  “She’ll be fine, Erica. If you’re not having second thoughts about signing the papers, then why are you crying?” I ask, trying my best to soothe her.

  “Because my fucking perfect vagina just pushed a seven-pound baby through it, Flynn!” She snaps, catching me completely off guard. Ok, well that’s Erica for you.

  “Just leave me alone and go take care of your daughter.” She says.

  “Thank you, Erica.”

  She just nods, then looks at me, “As soon as the doctor clears me, I’m moving. I already have a job and place lined up… so this will probably be good bye.”

  I look at her for a hard minute before accepting it, “Ok then, good luck to you Erica. You take care of yourself.”

  “You too, Flynn.”

  “Daddy? You want to meet your baby girl?” a nurse gently touches my arm, and I look to see her holding a tightly swaddled, pink faced, piece of perfection.

  She reaches forward to hand her to me, and as soon as she’s placed in my arms there’s this overwhelming feeling of rightness in me. I lean forward, kissing her tiny little nose and cheeks.

  “She’s perfect.” I whisper, tracing her tiny face with the tip of my finger.

  The nurse beams at me, “She certainly is! Born at nine twenty-seven AM, six pounds and thirteen ounces, twenty-one inches long, and she appears to be perfectly healthy!”

  “We’re going to take her to the nursery for a bath, and a feeding. We have a private room down there where you can come sit with her, and any visitors can just come to the nursery.” She smiles, casting a nervous glance at Erica before taking my little girl from me.

  I take one more look at Erica before I let the door close behind me.

  CLARA:

  It has been entirely too long since I have been able to just sit and enjoy a good book, so I quickly find myself fully engrossed in a page turning romance when suddenly I feel someone staring. I look up and see Flynn standing a few feet away, and when our eyes meet, he smiles a tender but radiant smile and holds out his hand. I stand and stash my book inside my purse, then make my way to him. Without even thinking about it, I slide my hand into his still outstretched palm. His fingers link through mine, giving them a gentle squeeze. It’s only then that I realize what I’ve done. Panic shoots through my veins at the feeling of completion, and the fact that it shouldn’t be happening at all. I try to nonchalantly slide my hand from his, but he grips mine tighter with what I swear was a growl, refusing to release it.

  “Where’s Maggie?” he asks, looking around.

  “She had to leave to take the boys to story time at the library. So, how is she? Is she good? What’s her name? How big was she?” I can’t help but fire off questions that have been in my mind for the past few hours.

  “Whoa there!” he chuckles, giving my fingers another gentle squeeze as we walk hand in hand down the hall.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve just been out of my mind sitting there. I want to know everything! I just have to know that she’s as healthy and beautiful as I picture.”

  He stops walking and turns to face me, studying my face. He tenderly brushes a stray piece of hair from my face and tucks it safely into my braid. “You don’t know how much that means to me to hear you say things like that. Yes, she’s perfect. Six pounds and thirteen ounces, twenty-one inches long, but no name yet. I was kinda hoping to get your help with that – a woman’s input.”

  We start walking again, and his admission catches me by surprise. “You want me to help name her?”

  He gives me a sideways smirk, “I mean, I have a few things in mind and I thought I would just know when I saw her, but now I just keep second guessing myself. So yeah, I trust you and I can’t think of anyone else. I’d rather have help.”

  We reach the nursery, and he swipes the hospital bracelet he is wearing to open the door, and I follow him through.

  “Where are all the babies?” I whisper.

  “We like to keep them in the rooms with their mothers. It encourages bonding, and it makes it easier to breast feed.” A nurse offers politely. I hadn’t even realized she was there.

  “Oh, that makes sense.” I feel silly for saying anything now, and my mind wanders to Erica and how the whole situation played out, but I know it is absolutely none of my business.

  “We’re here for my daughter.” Flynn says, saving us from the impending awkward silence.

  “What’s her name?” the nurse asks, grabbing a clipboard off the wall.

  “We don’t have one yet. Last name is Alexander.”

  “Alrighty! Just let me check your band, and ma’am I’m going to need to see an ID, and have you sign in. Sorry, just security measures.” She smiles, but inside my heart hammers. Although my license uses my alias, Clara Chambers not Clara or Elizabeth Scott, it is still a California ID and my hair is definitely blonde in it. If she studies it too closely, she might recognize me. I remember the near heart attack I almost had when I filled out paperwork for Flynn and I consented to a background check and I let him copy my ID for file. Either he didn’t even give it a second glance, or he has no idea who I am.

  I fish my wallet from my purse and hand over my ID, and sign the offered form she passes over in exchange. She studies the ID closely for a moment, her brows knitting together, before glancing back to my face. Her eyes widen a fraction and my palms grow sweaty.

  A small smile plays at her lips and I know I’m had, but I’m surprised when she doesn’t say anything other than, “I think I like you better as a brunette.”

  “Thank you.” I say quietly, stealing a quick glance at Flynn who seems to be mulling something over in his mind.

  “Right this way.” The nurse calls over her shoulder, after handing me back my driver’s license.

  She leads us to a small glass enclosed room off to the side where a nurse is feeding a tiny baby swaddled in a pink blanket.

  The nurse quickly explains to Flynn how to feed the baby and describes a basic feeding schedule then hands him a paper so he can track any and all bowel movements. Apparently, she has to poop a certain amount of times before she can leave the hospital. Who knew? The nurses leave us after a minute or two, and suddenly the air feels extremely heavy. Weighed down by the reality of the situation. Flynn’s a father now, and this little bird is completely without a mama.

  “Do you want to hold her?” Flynn asks, and I realize I’m staring transfixed at the beautiful baby.

  I nod eagerly and move to sit in one of the two provided chairs.

  He places his daughter in my arms, and I can’t explain it, but there’s this immediate sense of love and affection I feel towards this tiny little girl. I don’t know if it is just my urge to protect her because she is so new to this crazy world, or if it is this crazy maternal instinct I feel cradling her in my arms, but whatever it is causes
me to tear up.

  “She’s so perfect, Flynn.” I breathe, and when I look up to him, he is staring at me with a heat in his eyes that far surpasses anything I’ve seen from him yet.

  I can’t help it. I know she isn’t my baby, not even close, but I bend down and place a kiss to her forehead, already knowing I’d do anything to protect her.

  9

  FLYNN:

  Damn it. I’m trying so hard – so hard, to keep my emotions and feelings in check. I don’t know what it is about Clara specifically, but she is burrowing her way into my head and my heart and I barely know her. I know who she is, though. She thinks she’s hiding from the world – from me, but she’s not. People around here may be oblivious, but I’m not. After that day in her house, I couldn’t get it out of my head, why she looked so familiar. So, I had an Army buddy of mine who’s in security work do a more in depth check, and low and behold… Clara Elizabeth Scott. I got the final email I had been waiting for a couple hours ago, while Erica was in labor. I’d had my suspicions, but it was the final confirmation I needed.

  I knew I knew her, but not from TV… Sure, I’d seen tabloids and shit in the supermarket, but I’ve been deployed and off the grid for over ten years, so reality TV was the last fucking thing on my radar. No, I remember her playing tag with neighborhood kids, dancing in the sprinkler, catching lightning bugs in jars, and squealing with delight at the fireworks on the fourth of July… her long braided pig tails following her older brother, Logan, around like shadow. It was his picture that really got my wheels spinning. Logan is a little younger than I am, but when they would come to visit in the summer, we would always hang out. Then one year, they just stopped coming.

  Rumor had it that Roxie, Clara’s Grandma, had it out with her son and his wife about how he was raising his children. How they needed to be kids and not props on one of his sets, and once she let him have an earful that was the final straw. Town gossip mentioned their relationship had always been strained at best since Quentin’s father had passed when he was a boy, but Roxie did everything she could to make sure her son had the best… and he did. Then he went off and left, never visiting… just shipping his kids here every summer, until he didn’t anymore. I knew Roxie well, and she’d be thrilled Clara came back.

  No, Clara doesn’t know that I know her, but I do. And I won’t say anything until she’s comfortable enough to tell me. I don’t miss that panic in her eyes when someone looks at her a fraction too long, but in all honesty, it’s hard not to because she’s so damn pretty. When I began to suspect who she really was, I began reading. I saw some awful shit written about her, and I can’t lie that it raised some red flags for me. But then I took a second and thought some more, and I consider myself a pretty good judge of character, but everything I’ve read is so far off base from the Clara I’ve come to know. She’s not shallow, self-centered or an airhead… she’s kind, smart as a whip, playful and quiet.

  Now I’m here watching this angel with my daughter, overcome with emotion and tenderness, looking at her like her own mama should be. I don’t even know why I started calling Clara angel in the first place, but now I can’t stop. Maybe it’s because of how soft and careful she is in everything that she does, maybe it’s because of how she seems to glow with this light that screams of innocence, or maybe it’s just because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman in my life. Whatever it is, it’s addicting and I’m not sure I want to not feel this way ever again.

  “What were the names you had picked out?” Clara asks softly, startling me from my train of thought. All of a sudden nothing I had picked out seems good enough.

  “What would you name her?” my voice comes out hoarse, thick with emotion.

  “Flynn, I can’t do that…” she argues softly, still staring at my little girl in awe.

  “Yeah, you can. I want to know. What name would you choose?”

  She waits a moment, mulling it over in her head. “I always thought if I had a little girl someday, I’d name her Emma.”

  I take a step to squat down at their sides, rubbing Emma’s head. “She looks like she could be an Emma.”

  “You think?” Clara’s mouth curves into a soft smile.

  “Yeah. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

  We go back and forth on possible middle names for Emma, but finally decide that her middle name should be a family name. We finally agree that we both like my mother’s name the best.

  “Emma Jean Alexander. It’s so nice to meet you, beautiful girl.” Clara says sweetly, and she steals my heart just a little bit more in this moment. Is it even possible to be falling in love with someone when you’ve only just begun to get to know them? Because I think that’s exactly what is happening… it’s crazy right?

  Yeah, it’s crazy.

  ***

  It’s almost like a dream, walking out of the hospital with my baby girl strapped securely in her carrier. A year ago, I was recovering from life threatening injuries in a military hospital. This year, I’m a father. I look up to see Clara pull up in my truck, hopping out to open the back door for me with a big smile on her face.

  She’s already offered to stay with us for the first few days so we could get some semblance of a routine going, and I wasn’t going to let her do that, but it now it seems like I don’t really have a choice in the matter. Not that I’m complaining at all. I just know the more time I spend with Clara, the harder it’s going to be to not cross any physical lines with her. If I do that, I know for certain I won’t be able to let her go.

  “Are we all set?” Clara asks, hopping into the passenger seat.

  “Yes ma’am. Let’s get our girl home.” I say and she smiles one of her signature hundred watts smiles at me, causing my heart to grow a few sizes.

  CLARA:

  “Are you sure you guys will be alright?” I ask for what seems like the millionth time. I can’t help it. After being with Emma and Flynn for nearly four straight days, it’s hard for me to let go. We tried to develop some kind of pattern and rhythm to the days, but even with two people it is exhausting. Now I’m out of clothes, and Flynn is practically forcing me out the door against my will.

  “Angel, go home and get some sleep. We’ll be fine. I have to learn how to do this alone anyways.” He says, and I can’t explain why the words sting a little. I understand that he’s the parent, but I suppose that somewhere inside me it just kind of felt like we were doing this together even if we aren’t a couple.

  “Ok,” I concede reluctantly walking to the door, “But I put a casserole in the fridge. I can’t guarantee how it will taste, but just put it in the oven at three fifty for about an hour.”

  He follows me to the door with a sleeping Emma cradled in his arms, and I lean forward placing little kisses all over her face, inhaling her sweet baby scent one last time.

  I plead silently, hoping my puppy dog eyes will help out my case, but Flynn just shakes his head with a smile.

  “Go Clara. We’ll be ok. I promise.”

  “If you say so.” I grumble. “See you in the morning.”

  “Drive safe.” He says, stepping out onto the porch. The sun is just starting to dip below the trees, and yet the heat hasn’t let up any.

  “I will. Call me if you need anything. I mean it, Flynn.”

  “Yes ma’am.” he smiles, dipping his head.

  The drive back home is quiet. Over the past few days, I’ve grown accustomed to having someone constantly moving and talking around me, and I’m not so certain that the solitude that I found so freeing just a few short days ago is what I crave anymore. What I crave now is a sweet-smelling baby that makes faces in her sleep and has the longest eyelashes and fuzzy blonde hair. What I crave is a man who stands silently beside me and looks at his daughter and me with such a tender fascination it makes my heart melt and thighs clench. What I crave now is a family- one of my own.

  I pull into my driveway and after extracting my tired body from the car, I make my way into the house
. I flip the light switch and an envelope on the island catches my eye. A cold sense of unease rolls through me I reach into my bag and grip the pepper spray I keep. I walk around and check all the windows and doors to make sure they are all secure before checking under beds and in closets. What I think I’m going to do if there is someone in here, I don’t know because I’ve honestly never been in a fight in my life, let alone thrown a punch. I go back downstairs, a little more confident knowing my house is empty and pick up the envelope. I should go to the police… but I can’t. If I do all of my dirty laundry will be aired, and it would ruin everything as soon as the first reporter descended upon Stockbridge.

  With trembling fingers, I tear the seal on the envelope and pull out the contents. Inside there are a few pictures of me. One of me running, one of me at the hospital on the day Emma was born, and another of me sitting on the front porch. I pick up the slip of paper that had fluttered to the ground when I pulled out the photos.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t find you, Elizabeth? There’s not a place you can go that I won’t find you. Oh, the things I’ll do to you.”

  It’s happening again. I know it is. He’s back. They’re the same creepy notes that I received five years ago, just as In Lights was taking off. I only had one encounter with the man who wrote them. Although brief, it’s be forever committed to memory. I thought I was going to die in that parking lot. Thank god, my brother was meeting me that night. If he hadn’t pulled in when he did, I don’t know what my fate would have been.

  How he found me, I don’t know. I haven’t received a note or a photo in over five years. After the parking lot encounter, it all came to a sudden stop and I finally let myself believe it was over… that he’d moved on from his obsession. But now it’s happening again, but this time he’s inside my house and I don’t have security systems or a team of body guards that follow me nearly everywhere I go.