by Sarah Cole
He shouts, “GET THE FUCK DOWN!”
I look just in time to see him launch himself at me. I turn to the side and cage my arms around Emma, bracing her head with the crook of my arm just as his body barrels into mine at full force, tackling us to the ground and covering my body with his. Almost immediately I feel his body lifted from mine. I glance up to see Lucas and another unfamiliar face trying to restrain Flynn, but he’s too strong, breaking away from the older man and taking a swing at Lucas. Lucas takes the blow to the face without even flinching. I see Irene and Mitch running towards us with Maggie not far behind with a worried look on her face.
I’m almost too scared to look down at the screaming baby in my arms. I’m terrified that she’s hurt. I pull her from her wrap and search her over as much as I can in the dark before Maggie drops to her knees beside me in the grass and pulls out her phone.
“Clara, sweetie, it’s going to be alright.” She soothes, turning on the flashlight on her phone.
“I’m a registered nurse. Let me take a look to see if we need to take her to the hospital. I saw everything, and I’m pretty sure you protected her as best you could, but let’s just have a peek. I need you to calm down though, hun. You’re shaking like a leaf.”
I wipe my eyes and try to steady my breathing as I watch Maggie check Emma over, checking her eyes, and testing her arms, legs, and neck.
“Well, she’s lucky. Just a scrape and a little goose egg on her forehead, but I don’t think anything to be concerned with. How are you? Are you ok?” she asks, looking me over, and I see the cut on my arm from a stick I fell on.
“Let me see.” She demands, I watch squeamishly as she pinches the skin around it a little. “It isn’t that deep. I don’t think you need stitches or anything, but just make sure you get that cleaned up so it doesn’t get infected.”
I nod and look over to where Flynn is now calm on the ground where his face is buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking, and Irene and Mitch are talking quietly to him. It seems as if the whole town as taken notice and now stares at us openly with mixed expressions of curiosity, excitement and sullenness.
“Can you hold her for just a second?” I ask Maggie as I pop a pacifier in Emma’s mouth, quieting her down almost immediately.
“Sure, sweetie.” She gives my hand a light squeeze of reassurance.
I stand on shaky legs, brushing some of the loose dirt and grass from my white shorts and start over to where Flynn is. He looks up at my approach. His eyes are red rimmed, and he reaches out for me and I place my hand in his as he tugs me down to the grass in front of him and wraps his arms around me tightly.
“I’m so sorry, angel. So fucking sorry.” he mumbles into my neck, kissing me there, and I breathe in his warm, spicy scent.
“I know.” I run my hands up and down his back, trying to calm his shaking body.
“Are you ok? Is Emma ok? Did I hurt you guys?” he questions rapidly.
“Just some scrapes and bruises…” I lean back meeting him face to face, and his jaw tenses as I see the anger he feels towards himself, consume him.
I know the solution here, and I see it is clear to him too, but we both know that now isn’t the time and place to discuss anything; not with the entire town watching us. He just looks at me for a moment before giving me a slight nod, and leans in to kiss the tip of my nose.
“Come on big guy.” I stand and hold out my hand to him, and he takes it willingly, pulling himself up.
We walk back down the hill a ways to where Maggie still sits holding Emma with Lucas at her side. People are milling about now, packing up to go home, but it doesn’t deter them from being nosey.
The park is illuminated with lamps along the pathways, and I cringe when we approach and I see Lucas’s darkening black eye.
“I’m sorry, brother.” Flynn is the first to speak. Lucas just offers out his hand to him without word, and Flynn takes it as they pull one another in for a manly hug.
“No worries. You just take care of yourself, you hear?” Lucas gives him a meaningful look.
“I hear you.”
We thank them both, and pick up our belongings once again and head for the truck with all eyes on us. I can tell Flynn’s extremely embarrassed, not that he’d ever verbalize it, but I’m so damn proud of him for holding his head high and walking next to me like nothing happened. He and I both know what he’s dealing with, and its serious, and what the town saw is just the tip of the iceberg. But what he doesn’t realize yet, is there is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. He served his country, and he did it well, but it’s only now he’s paying the price for it.
“I was trying to protect you.” Flynn says, into the silence as we drive home.
“What do you mean?” I ask. I think I understand, but I want him to talk about it.
“It was different this time. It wasn’t like I was dreaming or reliving something that had happened before… it was so real. I was ok, then all of a sudden I was in a war zone with my guys, but we were still in the park and you and Emma were just there. The explosions…” he trails off. “I was trying to save you.”
His warm, calloused hand rests on my knee and I link my fingers with his, giving him reassurance that I’m not going anywhere.
18
FLYNN:
It’s only been four days, but it seems like I can’t go anywhere in this town without people looking at me like I’m crazy, or they feel sorry for me. I pull into the grocery store lot and head inside to grab some diapers. Apparently, the company we have a subscription to, sent the wrong size so Emma’s fresh out. I’m checking out when a picture of Clara and myself catches my eye. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen myself on these covers, but this time it’s different. It is a still shot from what looks to be a cell phone camera, and I’m throwing myself at her as she cowers away in fear, shielding Emma from me. The headline reads, “Major Psycho? Elizabeth Scott in abusive relationship. Exclusive details and photos inside!”
It fucking guts me to look at this. I was considered a hero, but in the blink of an eye everything has changed. The world now thinks I’m some son of a bitch that would abuse the woman he loves. Without thinking, I snatch the magazines from the rack and rip them to shreds. I march over to the trash and shove them inside garnering shocked stares from the cashiers and people in line. I pick up the box of diapers and lay them on the belt as Rita checks me out.
“I’m sorry, Flynn.” She says softly. “I’ve stopped the orders for them, but that was the last batch. No one buys them anyways.”
“It’s ok, Rita.”
“No honey, it’s not. Don’t worry. We know you’d never hurt that girl intentionally. The whole darn town has seen the way you guys look at each other, and I know your mama and daddy didn’t raise you to be an abusive fool.”
I nod, and hand her a bill. “Keep the change. I’m sorry about the mess.” I make my way out the door as quickly as I can, trying to hold back my embarrassment.
***
I drive down the long driveway to my house, and spot a car I don’t recognize in the driveway. I’m immediately on high alert. I pull into the garage and race into the house.
“Clara?!” I call.
“In here.” Her voice responds, but it sounds small and defeated.
I follow her voice into the living room where she sits with Emma and a middle-aged woman in a gray pantsuit and a blunt haircut. She stands at my entry and holds out her hand.
“Mr. Alexander?” she questions.
“Yes?” I take her hand as she shakes mine firmly. Almost too firmly like she’s trying to prove a point.
I look over to Clara who is staring at me with wide eyes full of fear.
“My name is Janet Copeland. I work with the Georgia state Department of Child and Family Services.” I feel the blood drain from my face as my eyes shift to Clara once more and I see her eyes fill with tears.
“Alright?” I hedge, when she doesn’t explain more.
“I�
�m going to be blunt here, sir, if I may?” she says matter of factly.
“By all means, Ms. Copeland.”
“After some recent events were brought to light in a very public way, and given public knowledge of Ms. Scott’s past, we felt it was in your child’s best interest if we investigated this matter further.”
“What do you mean exactly?” I ask through gritted teeth. I can’t help it. If this woman is saying what I think she’s saying, I’m going to go postal.
“The state feels like it is necessary to hold a meeting with both you and Ms. Scott together and separately. We can do so now, in your home if you wish. Then, after evaluating the results, if we determine it necessary to hold a court hearing regarding the care and living arrangements of your daughter, we will proceed in that manner.”
“Living arrangements? You mean taking her away from a loving home, and the only parents she knows?”
“If necessary, yes.” She responds with little emotion. How in the hell can she just waltz in here and deliver a blow like this without batting an eye lash?
“Ms. Copeland, with all due respect. You have to be out of your mind to think you’re going to take my daughter out of her home. I don’t know what you think you know about Clara, but you cannot possibly base a sound decision based on tabloid fodder and reality television! She is the most kind and compassionate woman I’ve ever known, and I’ll be damned if her character is called into question. I may have some things to work out, but I love my family, and I would fight to the death for them if I have to. I would rather die than hurt them in any way. So please, write that in your report!”
“I understand that you’re upset, Mr. Alexander, but I’m going to have to ask you to calm down. I spoke briefly with Ms. Scott, and I know that that we will have to dig deeper into this matter. I know it isn’t cut and dry. Believe it or not, this isn’t my first timed doing this-”
“Oh, so you’re well versed in ripping families apart? Fucking perfect!” I interrupt.
“Flynn! Stop, please.” Clara scolds.
“I assure you, our goal isn’t to rip anyone’s family apart. It is simply to find the best solution to keep everyone safe, and get things on a healthy track.”
“Right…” I scoff.
“Would you be willing to answer some questions for me, Mr. Alexander?”
“I’ve already said what I need to.” I retort. “Emma’s in a home with two loving parents that would lay down their lives to protect her and love her. I don’t really know what else you need to know.”
“But this isn’t Ms. Scott’s primary residence? Am I correct?” she asks.
“I’m staying here while my house is being repaired.” Clara answers before I can respond
“Repaired?” She seems to mull that over for a second before continuing, “Well, in my preliminary investigation, we were notified that your residence was completed a few weeks ago.”
Clara’s eyes shoot to mine in question, and I give her a ‘not now’ sort of look, and she seems to understand.
Ms. Copeland just shrugs it away.
“I hope you understand that if you are unwilling to cooperate in the initial investigation interviews, it will be noted and the possibility of this escalating to a hearing is nearly one hundred percent.”
“Is that all you needed?” I don’t give her an inch. I know I’m being a prick, but honestly, what did she expect?
Clara gives me another admonishing look, and I almost feel bad, but this is my baby girl here. No one threatens to take her from me.
CLARA:
“Flynn! What the fuck was that?!” I shout. I’m pissed, and he knows it. He is completely taken aback by my cursing, like usual.
“No one is taking my daughter from me!” he grits out.
“Well, you just gave them a bigger opening to try! All you had to do was answer a few questions, but now more than likely this will end up in court! You heard her!” I gesture towards the door.
Emma’s on the ground playing, and I can’t help but remember the disapproval that social worker had in her eyes when she spotted the scrapes and bruises on Emma from the other day.
“What did she ask you?” he questions.
“Stupid stuff honestly… like how often I drink? Do we ever have verbal and physical altercations? Just basic questions.”
“Did she ask you about me?” he questions.
“Obviously. She just asked if you were verbally and physically abusive, about our relationship, and things like that.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her the truth, Flynn! I told her that you are kind, and patient and loving… that you treat us like gold. I told her we have an intimate relationship…” I pull at the frayed hem of my jean shorts, avoiding his intensity.
“It’s more than that, Clara, and you know it. Did she ask about anything else?”
I know what he’s asking. He wants to know if she mentioned anything about his PTSD episodes. “She did ask if you might be combatting a mental illness…” I answer quietly.
“And…?”
“I told her the truth, Flynn. I wasn’t going to lie. It was apparent after what happened in the park. I feel like that is a more acceptable answer than just saying you tackled us for no reason in front of the entire town!”
“Damn it, Clara! I will deal with this when I’m ready!”
“You need to deal with it now, Flynn. You needed to deal with it yesterday, a year ago even! I don’t want to lose you! I don’t want Emma to lose you! Do you know the suicide rates? It’s twenty-one percent higher for veterans than civilians. Twenty-two veterans take their own lives every single day. Flynn, I don’t want that to be you! I want to help you before something terrible happens that we can’t ignore or sweep under the rug!” My voice rises along with my temper, and I feel the tears begin to fill my eyes as I rattle off the statistics that I’ve been torturing myself with. I don’t back down and I don’t break eye contact this time, finding my backbone. He doesn’t say anything. He just scoops Emma up off the floor and heads out the back door leading to the porch.
I try to calm myself, but deep in my gut, I know that this is going to rip us apart one way or another. But I will not stop fighting for him. He’s fought enough on everyone else’s behalf, now it’s time someone helps him fight, even if he doesn’t think he needs the help.
***
It took a few hours that night for Flynn to talk to me. I know he just needed time, and I did too to be honest. The visit from the social worker had my mind reeling and my stomach churning at what might happen. He took Emma out, and didn’t return for a while. Not sure what to think, I went and laid down in the guest room, and fell into a fitful sleep. I figured if he didn’t want to be around me, he certainly wouldn’t welcome me cozied up in his bed. Sometime in the dark of the night, Flynn came in and gathered me into arms and carried me back to his room.
“You sleep in our bed, angel… with me. Nowhere else.” he growled into my ear.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who’s sorry for being such an ass. It just makes me sick with rage thinking about anyone taking Emma from our home. I love her more than life.” He confessed, and I knew. I knew what he meant because I feel the same way. I snuggled into his side, and nothing more was said about it that night.
But after that, the past few days have been tense to say the least. We’re on edge, wondering what happens next. I’m not sure whether it is a good thing or a bad thing that we don’t have to wait long for the answers to our questions. We were both served with a hearing appearance this morning. So, one week from today, we have to appear. The process has been fast tracked, but we received no explanation as to why. Although, we can assume it is due to my celebrity status, the public episode and the fact that Flynn refused to answer the questions from the social worker that came to visit.
19
FLYNN:
It�
��s a beautiful mid-July day. Not sweltering hot or humid, but the perfect day for hanging out by the lake or taking a walk in the park with your family. It’s a peaceful sort of day, but peaceful isn’t my reality this morning as I button up my dress shirt, and slide my feet into expensive shoes. No, my reality is a court date with the State of Georgia, and they hold my world in their hands with their decision. We don’t know what to expect. Clara and I have spent the last week searching for any tips or clues as to what will happen, or what could help us, but we’ve come up short. Basically, the consensus when it comes to these kinds of cases is expect the unexpected.
After speaking with Aunt Irene and learning that she also subpoenaed, we also learned that nearly every person we know in town, including people that may be able to attest to character like Emily and Landon have been contacted. Clara spoke with her brother, Logan, and he mentioned that he and their father were contacted, as well. Apparently, this is more in depth than we could have ever imagined, and I have this nagging suspicion that Darren Woods may have played at least some small part in everything that is happening.
As I straighten my collar, I watch Clara in the mirror’s reflection as she stares out the bedroom window, holding Emma tightly in her arms. She’s usually a fairly quiet person, but her positive energy fills a room. Yet, the past week she’s been deflated and abnormally quiet. I can’t say I blame her, but I’m also worried about her. She won’t admit it, but she blames herself for everything that is happening. I know Clara inside and out. I’ve studied her and memorized every detail like the back of my own hand. She blames her presence in our lives for the media attention, and what is happening now. It’s utterly ridiculous. I know that the situation we’re in now has absolutely nothing to do with her being here, and everything to do with me. But the terrible, selfish part of me that I keep pushing back down wants to blame her- use her as a scapegoat; because that’s so much easier than turning the spotlight on myself.