Facing Reality

by Sarah Cole

  “Not at all.” I motion for him to follow me around the porch to where there’s furniture.

  “I feel like I’m going to do a lot of talking, and I need you to listen.” He gives me a fatherly kind of look and I nod my understanding. “I’ve been a terrible father.” He starts, and I can’t say I disagree.

  “So much of my time was focused on making myself successful, that I lost sight of what true success really is. A real man measures his success by the happiness of his family. If I had been using that metric all along I would have seen that I was poorer than when I started out. I let my wife down, then my children… but most of all myself because I missed out on the amazing people they were becoming in spite of me. I’m working to make amends, and hope they let me back in before it’s too late.

  Son, my point is… you’re a good father. Believe me when I say that pride gets in the way more often than it should, but you’re a good man… a far better man than I could ever dream of being. I see you and I know my daughter does too. She loves you very much, and I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to hurt alone. The best advice I can give you is if you find someone in this life that is willing to walk beside you in the hardest times, you hold them close – don’t push them away. Too many people make that mistake thinking they have to go it alone to prove a point. I don’t know what you said to her yesterday, but you crushed her. The only reason I’m not crushing you right now is because I’ve done far worse to her so I have no room to talk. Plus, I’m sure you could annihilate me with your pinky finger.” He leans forward, clapping me on the shoulder, and I crack a smile.

  “Sir, I love your daughter… very much. I never knew my heart was capable of loving someone the way I love her and my daughter. She’s an incredible person, and I’m ashamed to say I said some things to her yesterday in anger that I’m definitely not proud of, but I intend to make it right. I was going to wait to do this, but now seems like a fitting time since you’re here in person. I don’t know when I’m going to do it, because I’d like to work on getting myself in a better place mentally first, but I want to marry your daughter. I’d like your blessing if you’re willing to give it, but understand, that I intend to either way because I don’t think I can live without her.”

  He regards me quietly for a moment, before offering his hand. “Flynn, I’d be honored to have you as my son in law, as long as she agrees. You and Emma are her entire heart, so I’m sure that won’t be an issue. I know you’ll take good care of her like you already have, but that brings me to the next thing I needed to discuss with you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Darren Woods.” He replies unexpectedly, and I feel the hairs on my neck stand up.

  “What about Darren?”

  “He came to me looking for a job in private security for my family. All of those positions are filled with people that have been working for me for quite some time. So, selfishly, I hired him to come here and scare Clara just enough to get her to come home, but what I didn’t realize was he was the same person that had stalked her years before... I-”

  I don’t let him finish his next thought before I land my fist to his face. The already raw skin on my hand splits back open, but it was worth it. I don’t plan on hitting him again, but Jesus, that felt good.

  He doesn’t even appear to be fazed by the hit as he dabs at his busted lip with his shirt sleeve, nodding in acceptance. “I deserved that.”

  “You think? She’s almost died… not once, not twice, but three times because of this asshole. You think you should run a little background check before you hire someone to mess with your children like that?!” I yell. I don’t care if it’s disrespectful or not, because right now I respect him about as much as the mud on my shoe.

  “I know… I just figured since he was formerly in the military that he could be trusted, but clearly I was wrong.”

  “Dear God!” I stand and start to pace, irritated by his level of stupidity. “News flash! Not everyone in the military is sane! In fact, there are a lot of us that are really fucked up in the head, but one thing I can tell you is Darren Woods was already screwed up. He was under my command for a short while, and he’s a sadistic fuck and a weasel. A simple in depth background check would’ve told you he went AWOL! That motherfucker’s crazy!” I fume, still trying to wrap my head around how he could’ve been so careless.

  “Does Clara know? Because please, don’t make me be the one that has to tell her that her father sold out her safe location to a psycho that wants to abuse and kill her just for the sake of it!”

  “It came up last night when I was talking to her and Logan. Believe me when I say that I’m going to do everything in my power to make this right, Flynn, but until I can get some guys on it, I need you to keep your eyes on my daughter. Keep her safe for me.” he says, his eyes beginning to water. Jesus, is he going to cry?

  “I’ve got her, Quentin. She’s got my little girl, and I’ve got them both.” I tell him.

  ***

  I spend the afternoon at the local jeweler, helping design a ring for Clara. Hopefully it will be the ring she wears on her left hand for the rest of her life. After getting her father’s blessing, I just couldn’t really wait. It’s premature, but I know what I want, and it’s her. It’s been her since day one. Her in our house, in my bed, being Emma’s mother, and hopefully someday being a mother to our own children. The ring won’t be ready for a month or more, and I’m hoping that’s enough time to mend myself and our broken relationship. I could have just picked anything out of a catalogue or a chain retailer, and she would have been fine with it, because that’s just who she is. But it needed to be unique like her. Elegant and timeless, but young and beautiful. I remembered her describing to me one of her grandmother’s rings one time, saying she used to play dress up in it as a little girl. It was art deco style with a large center stone and long cut diamonds flaring out on either side, making it resemble a bow tie. They were able to sketch up what I think is a perfect replica. Except this one will be all diamonds instead of rubies and set in a dainty diamond and platinum eternity band instead of solid gold.

  I leave Henderson’s jeweler with a renewed positivity, feeling like things are finally back on track for me. It’s late in the afternoon so most of the businesses on the square have closed down for the day since it’s the weekend. I’m walking to my truck when I see it. The sight that will forever be burned into memory as long as I walk the earth. The haunting images of fallen soldiers, death, explosions, and faceless adversaries will all be laid to waste with one simple moment. It’s almost an illusion, happening so quickly that with the blink of an eye you’d miss it, but so measured that you’re almost able to feel time passing as every piece of your heart shatters.

  One moment Clara is crouching down beside Emma’s stroller across the square as she peers in the window of the dance studio where the help wanted sign has been hanging all summer, and the next she’s got a gun pointed at her head as Darren appears out of what seems like thin air. He says something, and without hesitating she throws herself over Emma as he pulls the trigger and her head flies back with impact and I see her blood splatter on the glass of the dance studio window as he pulls the trigger a second time and she sides lifelessly to the ground.

  “CLARA!!! NOOO!” I cry, a guttural sound erupting from deep within me as I run across the grassy area to the other side of the street. Darren turns to me, and calmly raises his gun and pulls the trigger. I feel the hot searing pain lodge itself in my ribs, but the adrenaline coursing through my body won’t let me stop until I’ve put an end to him. He seems completely unfazed as he unloads the clip shot after shot. I feel at least two others hit their target before my hands seize around his throat and I squeeze.

  I hear Emma crying, but I can’t stop the blind rage that consumes me as Darren begins to fight back landing blows to my bullet riddled body. I manage to land a few brutal blows to his face before I feel my breath shortening.

  “You son of a bitch!
Why?! WHY?!” I scream through gritted teeth, flipping him over and smacking his head on the concrete over and over.

  He smiles a bloodied smile, “Because I can.” He laughs, and I pin him down with all of the strength I have left. I rain down blow after blow for Clara, feeling the bones in his face break beneath my bloodied and broken hands. When he lays, unmoving I roll off of him and try to crawl my way to where Clara lies unmoving in a puddle of her own blood on the sidewalk. I only make it a couple feet before the heaviness in my chest begins to be more than I can bear, and I hear the bubbling wheeze. I cough, splattering blood onto the concrete beneath me. I know my lungs are filling up, and I push myself just a little further to where my girls are. I can’t pull myself up to see into Emma’s stroller, but she’s crying which is a good sign, but Clara lays lifelessly in front of me.

  Why?

  Why?

  Why?

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  It wasn’t supposed to end this way. We didn’t get our happy ending.

  “I love you. I’m sorry.” I sob into her thigh as I hear the sirens in the distance. I hear some shouts, and footsteps approaching, but my eyes won’t open.

  I can’t breathe.

  I try to fight my way back, but there’s nothing left to hold on to, and I fade.

  CLARA:

  Ten minutes ago…

  We had to get out of the house, so I took Emma to the park so we could feed the ducks and swing in the baby swing. Emily had to leave, and my father did too. Logan decided to take a few more days, but had work to do this afternoon. I haven’t seen any reporters all day, so I’ll consider it a small win. Since the weather is so nice, I decide to soak it up before the next heat wave rolls in, and walk towards the downtown square. I’ve been downtown countless times at this point, but I’ve never really stopped to see what there is.

  Unfortunately, since it’s so late in the afternoon, most of the shops are closing up for the weekend. It’s alright by me since that will give us something else to do another day.

  I’m pushing Emma along the sidewalk when my eye catches on a pink and white striped awning. The window reads Tutu’s Dance Studio in fine baby pink cursive, and there’s a curling piece of paper in the window. I walk around to the front of the stroller to where Emma is. Normally she’s facing me, but she was getting fussy, so I swip-swapped it so she could look out and see things. I crouch down to read the sign, which I see now is a help wanted sign for another dance instructor for ballet and pointe, but knowledge and skill in all other types is preferred.

  “What do you think, Emma Bug? Do you think I should teach dance classes? Would you like to come and watch? We’ll get you in ballet slippers and a tutu as soon as you can walk!” I coo as I reach over and tickle her chubby belly, she laughs a belly laugh, which always makes me smile no matter how down I am.

  “Fancy meeting you here, Elizabeth.” A voice says, and I’d know it anywhere. I stand abruptly to see Darren swiftly approaching, and my eyes lock on his as he raises his right hand holding a gun, aimed presumably at my head. Emma makes a sound behind me, and his eyes flicker briefly to where she’s strapped into her stroller. He shifts just ever so slightly, and I act on instinct as I throw myself over her and the gun sounds, echoing off the aged brick buildings into the quiet afternoon. It barely takes an instant, but I feel like my head gets cracked with a baseball bat as my neck snaps backwards. I feel another excruciating burn sear through my chest, then nothing but the deafening ring my ears. I think I hear my name before everything goes blank.

  “You son of a bitch! Why?! WHY?!” I hear a gurgling howl that sounds like Flynn and a screaming baby, and I try to lift my head but it’s hot and heavy, and my eyes refuse to focus. I try and tilt my head to see, and when I finally manage to focus just enough I see Flynn, but he looks wrong covered in blood.

  “Flynn.” I try to call out his name, but it’s lost on my lips as I succumb to unconsciousness once again.

  Emma.

  Flynn.

  Nothing.

  “Ma’am, calm down!” Someone says firmly, and the lights are blinding, as I’m rolled over to my side. The pain sends stars shooting through my vision, and I struggle to catch my breath when I hear a shrill sound in the distance.

  “Damn it. We’re going to have to get her into surgery! Now! She’s going into V-fib.”

  “I heard that guy coded. We can’t lose another one tonight. Poor kid needs at least one of her parents.” I hear someone say, and my world stops.

  “No!” I cry, but I can’t get my voice to work around all the tubing shoved in my mouth and I panic. I hear the more of the shrill beeping.

  “Damn it! Ma’am, calm down, please.” a pair of gray eyes lock on mine. “You’re going to be ok. We’ll get you through this, but you have to stay calm. We’re taking you into surgery. Blink if you understand.” I blink, and I feel the hot tears, roll down my cheeks.

  How am I going to do this alone?

  How am I going to live without him?

  What will happen to Emma?

  These are the questions that roll through my mind as my heart continues to break a little bit more with every slow beat it beats in my chest.

  ***

  I feel a warm hand grip mine, and everything comes flooding back. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, forcing the unshed tears out, and willing it to all be just a bad dream. Flynn’s gone; I heard them say it. I’m not sure when. I’m not even sure how long it’s been, but I feel his loss in my bones and in the empty hole where my heart used to be. The heaviness in my chest, and the pain I feel in my head and body is agonizing, but dulled only by the empty ache I feel everywhere else.

  “Clara. Sweetheart, open your eyes for me.” I hear my father’s broken voice say, but I can’t. I’m not ready to face a world without Flynn Alexander in it. I feel my face twist in anguish, and I let myself drift off again. It’s easier to feel nothing than it is to feel everything.

  ***

  “Is this normal? It’s been over twenty-four hours since she came out of surgery. Shouldn’t she have woken up by now?” I hear Logan’s voice in the dark room.

  “She’ll be fine. The doctors are monitoring everything very closely. There isn’t any life-threatening swelling in her brain, and there shouldn’t be any lasting defects. Her body and mind have just been through a lot, and it’s the body’s natural coping mechanism. She’ll wake when she’s ready.” I hear an unfamiliar female voice.

  “I’m so sorry, Clara. It’s all my fault.” My father cries at my side, and though I don’t open my eyes, my hand searches for his on the blanket and he lets out a sigh of relief.

  It’s morning again when I finally peel my eyes open. They’re matted together and my throat is on fire, but nothing compares to the blinding headache and the pain in my chest. Scanning the room, I see my brother reclined in the chair in the corner.

  I hear heels clacking on the floor and I tilt my heavy, aching head to see my sister, Meredith standing in the doorway with my father, her glossy, highlighted waves falling over her shoulders as she adjusts the dress she’s wearing.

  “Clara?” she asks timidly, her eyes widening.

  “Emma…” I croak.

  “No, I’m Mer-e-dith.” She sounds out, like she’s teaching a kindergartener as she points to her chest. I’d roll my eyes at her if I didn’t think it’d make me throw up.

  “Meredith, she knows who you are.” My father sighs, in exasperation. “Emma’s just fine, thanks to you, sweetheart. She’s been staying with Mitch and Irene.” He says, walking to my side, and some of the weight lifts. I see my brother shift to a sitting position in the corner.

  “Flynn.” My voice cracks, as I say his name. “Who’s handling the arrangements?” I feel the hollow ache return to my chest as I ask the question.

  My father’s brow knits together for a moment, before answering, “I think Irene and Mitch were trying to work something out, but until he wakes up, we won’t know what his needs will b
e.”

  “Wakes up? I thought…he’s not dead?” I cry, causing my head to throb.

  “No, honey. It was touch and go for a bit, and he was in surgery for a long time, but they think he’s going to pull through. We’re not sure how significant and lasting the damage will be, but he’s just a few rooms over.” My father gently pats my arm, and I feel like the blood in my veins is flowing again as my heart starts beating. I’ve never been more relieved and I can’t stop the emotions from spilling out.

  “Oh, you’re awake!” a nurse says cheerfully entering the room, and I’m on overload. Overload of emotions, of senses… everything. “Let me get the doctor.” She says, strolling back out of the room.

  “You look terrible.” Meredith says, and my father and Logan shoot her a look.

  “What?” She shrugs.

  “I don’t feel that great either, Mere, so I think its ok.” I tell her.

  “Where’s Darren?” I ask.

  “Still alive, but just barely. Unfortunately...” My brother says, and I feel the blood drain from my face. He can’t still be out there. He sees my face, and decides to elaborate to put me out of my misery. “Don’t worry, he’ll be going away for a long time, sis. I just wish Flynn would have finished the job. He’s still in the ICU, but he’s being guarded, and as soon as he’s stable enough, he’s going away.” He says.

  There’s a knock on the door as a tall, wiry man wearing a lab coat and glasses walks in.

  “How are you feeling, Ms. Scott?” He asks with a kind smile.

  “I’ve been better.” I say, and his smile widens.

  “I’m Dr. Reznik. You were very lucky, young lady.”

  “Can you tell me what exactly happened? I know I was shot, but everything else is kind of fuzzy for me.”

  “Sure. You were shot in the head, but by some miracle it didn’t penetrate the skull. It entered just in between your left frontal and temporal lobes, and made a clean exit through the back. There is a fracture in the skull where the bullet grazed, but it should heal on its own. You will just need to take it easy for three to six months while we let that heal correctly. I’ve truly never seen anything like it, but you were also shot in your left breast. The bullet got lodged inside, but another centimeter, and it would have found itself in your heart. As I said… very lucky, but you should make a full recovery. We’ll talk about treatment going forward, but from what I see your vitals look good and you should be able to be released in a few days barring any infections. I’ll let you get some rest. Just press the call button, if you need someone, or if the pain becomes intolerable.” He says, and begins to leave.