Fiercely Emma: Cake Series Book Three

by J. Bengtsson

  “Are you close with him?”

  “We were,” Finn said. I detected a sad story to follow.

  “Not anymore?”

  “Not for a long time.”

  He paused a moment, clearly searching for the right thing to say.

  “Rocky and I grew up in the junkyard with all the other kids. Despite what you might think, we loved it. We ran around all the time and had no discipline or rules. You can only imagine the crap we got ourselves into, and once we started school, we were both fairly unmanageable. I, at least, had a conscience, and when I did something wrong, I tried to make amends; but Rocky, he just didn’t care. He openly defied authority. Anyway, usually because of him, we both became quite familiar with the principal’s office. The school tried everything with us, but since Misty, who is Shelby’s mom and was our guardian, had no interest in disciplining us or enforcing follow through at home, our bad behavior continued to escalate. Finally, the school convinced Misty to allow the two of us to get big brothers. You know, through that Big Brother/Big Sister program?”

  I nodded, trying to picture my sweet, good-natured Finn as a bratty kid.

  “Anyway, my ‘big brother’ was this young guy named Barry. He’d grown up without a father too, and had joined the program hoping to make a difference. I was nine at the time, and we hit it off immediately. Rocky was given a man in his thirties who was really nice, but older and more disciplined. The hope was that a stable older man might calm him down. Well, Rocky ate the poor guy alive, and then ended up going through one big brother after another until there were no more left to offer.

  “But Barry and I connected. One thing he noticed was that it took a good hour or two for me to calm down before we could just sit and talk, so he started taking me to a gymnastics place to get all the excess energy out. I took to it right away and was really good at it. The gym even gave Barry a discount, and he continued to pay for my membership all through my childhood.”

  “Are you still in contact with him now, as an adult?”

  Finn shifted a bit and I could tell something about the story was bothering him. I squeezed his hand to encourage him, but instead of answering my question, he continued with the narrative.

  “Misty always had a steady stream of boyfriends. All were bad, but some were worse than others. Anyway, this one dude was delivering his weekly beatdown on Misty when Shelby got involved. She never could keep her mouth shut. He just started wailing on my mother – so of course I tried to intervene and had the crap beaten out of me too. And then Rocky stumbled upon the scene, went berserk, and sent the abuser to the hospital. The police got involved. I’d been beaten up bad enough for social services to remove all the kids in the compound, but within days they’d all returned, except me. Barry and his wife, Marissa, took me in. I begged them to take Rocky too, but they had two small children and they just couldn’t take the chance with him, especially after what he’d done to that guy. So, while I was adjusting to a normal life in suburbia with loving, attentive parental figures, Rocky continued to wallow in the filth that was Perryland.”

  “And the two of you drifted apart,” I said, finishing the story.

  Finn nodded. “I guess I’ve always felt guilty for abandoning him.”

  “You were handed a chance at a future and were smart enough to take it.”

  “I tried to stay in contact with him, but Rocky was pissed and took every opportunity to knock me down. He made fun of everything I did, as if living a normal life was so ridiculous to him. I finally got tired of getting shit on by him and stopped visiting. We saw each other occasionally after that, but it was always strained between us.”

  I lifted his fingers in mine and kissed the back of his hand. Finn’s heart was bigger than anyone’s I’d ever met, and I got the sense that the divide between brothers was something that had eaten away at him for years. “Have you seen Rocky in prison?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “I do and I don’t. He’s asked me to a few times. I just haven’t gone. I guess I should.”

  “It doesn’t always have to be about someone else, Finn. Putting yourself first isn’t always a bad thing, you know.”

  “I know. I just hate the idea of seeing him locked up in there. I really do need to visit.”

  “Are you and Barry still close?”

  “Yeah. Barry taught me what it was to be a man. I owe him and Marissa everything.”

  “I’d love to meet them.”

  “You will.”

  Finn said that with such certainty, as if he saw a future with me. And after his story, I felt even more connected to him… until he said the words that changed everything.

  “I can’t wait to be a father. I’ll be everything I never had.”

  The statement was simple and heartfelt, and I felt myself die a little inside. The one thing he wanted – to be a dad – was the one thing I could never give him.

  “I almost was one, you know, a little over a year ago,” he said, startling me.

  “No.” I sat up straighter. “I didn’t know.”

  “I had this girlfriend named Alexis. She seemed fine when I met her, but then she started getting really possessive and manipulative. After about two months, I’d seen enough and tried to cut her loose, but she threatened to kill herself and made me feel so guilty that I stayed. Months went by, and I started noticing that none of my friends were texting or contacting me. Turns out she’d blocked all the contacts on my phone without telling me. Once I figured out what she’d been up to, I broke it off. But then a week later she called to tell me she was pregnant. She knew how much I wanted to be a dad, and used it against me.”

  “There was no baby,” I said, absorbing some of the pain for him.

  “No. I think, deep down I knew all along, but didn’t want to admit it to myself because I wanted to be a father so badly.”

  “I’m so sorry, Finn.”

  He held me a little tighter. “It was for the best. She would have made my life a living hell, using the baby against me to get what she wanted. I want to have a baby with someone I love… someone who wants a family as much as I do. Someone like you, Emma.”

  One month was all it took to fall in love. The little flutter I’d felt the day I met him had grown too large and too powerful to ever be stuffed back inside. In reality, it had taken less than a month, but it wasn’t until I was sitting on top of the sand hill listening to Finn pour his heart out to me that I admitted the truth to myself. And now here I was in a place I never thought I’d be, making a decision I never wanted to make.

  In order for Finn to be happy – really, truly happy – he needed the one thing I could never give him. Sadly enough, at this point, the truth was all I had to offer. He had to know that I didn’t share his vision of a family, so he could move on and find someone who would. I, of course, knew the man he was – he’d make excuses and tell me he could forego fatherhood to be with me, but that wasn’t what I wanted for him. Doing without was not an option for Finn. He deserved more than just to settle.

  The talk went about as well as could be expected. Finn sat quietly at the table as I explained to him that I was not the one for him and the reason why. And when I finished my speech, he sat back without a word and just stared at me. Finally, after he’d had time to process, the first tentative questions began to emerge.

  “Is it that you can’t have kids, or you won’t have kids? Because if you can’t, we could always adopt.”

  “As far as I know, I can have children. I just don’t want them.”

  “I’ve seen you with kids. You seem good with them.”

  “I like kids; I just don’t want any of my own. Is that so hard to understand?”

  I saw a change in his demeanor then. Anger took form as the reality of what I was saying began to hit him.

  “Yes, Emma. It’s really fucking hard to understand. I mean, how do you know you won’t change your mind somewhere down the line?”


  “I won’t.”

  “But how do you know?” His frustration was bubbling over.

  “Finn.” I reached out and touched him. “I’m telling you this now to save you the heartbreak later.”

  A bitter laugh broke free from his scornful lips. “Too late.”

  “I’m so sorry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  “Again – too late.”

  An awkward silence ensued. Yes, he was hurting, but so was I. When all was said and done, Finn would move on and find love again; but I’d be back where I started. The only difference from before was that I’d be saddled with the memory of a love that could never be.

  “So you’re breaking it off with me?” Finn breathed out jaggedly, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s what’s happening here?”

  I looked down, unable to make eye contact. Leaving him was the last thing I wanted, but what other choice did I have? Our lives were destined to go down vastly different paths.

  “The more time we spend together the worse it will be.”

  “Do you love me?” he asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.”

  He slammed his hands down on the table, making me jump. His lip twitching in anger, he said in a growl, “It matters to me.”

  Tears filled my eyes as I took in his utter sadness. I could at least give him the truth.

  “Yes, Finn, I love you.”

  “Then don’t do this. Please, Emma. You’re just scared. I know you. This is what you do. You push away when you get scared. We can work through this.”

  “Not this.”

  “So you’re just giving up on us?” The twitching lip was back.

  “I’m giving you the chance at the life you want.”

  “You mean the life I want with you!” Finn rose abruptly from his chair. “Dammit. When I told you that story last night, it was because I’m falling in love with you, and I can see a future with you that I’ve never imagined with anyone else. And now you’re telling me to go to hell? I mean, I can’t even figure out what’s going on here. I’ve never heard such bullshit in my life, and I grew up with the queen of bullshit herself!”

  “You think I wanted this? I was pushing you away because I knew this was going to happen, and I was trying to stop it before it ever got to this point. But you are relentless, Finn. You did this. You made me love you, and now we are both screwed because of it. So if you want to blame anyone, blame yourself!”

  I knew I wasn’t being reasonable. He was only guilty of wearing his heart on his sleeve; but I’d never been one to fight fair, and I knew the only way for this to end was for it to end badly. Finn paced back and forth, looking truly broken. This needed to be over, so we could both start the process of moving on. Or maybe just him. I wouldn’t be moving on. I would stay stuck in the memory of this love forever, because if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that I would never put myself in this position ever again. Finn would always, and forever, remain my one and only love.

  “I think you should go.”

  Finn stood there for the longest time, not speaking, just chewing on his fingernails and contemplating what to do or what to say. Finally, he turned, and without a word, walked out the door.

  19

  Emma, 2004: Making Contact

  I sat with my back touching the wall that divided our rooms, trying to judge exactly where Jake was pressed up against it on his side. He was alone. I knew this because only when he was alone did he cry. All other times he was stoic, or numb, or screaming. But not crying, never crying… until he was alone, pressed up against the wall, perhaps with his legs pulled up to his chest, as mine were now. I listened to his quiet sorrow, my heart always breaking for him in these moments. I never interrupted him or tried to console him, because, as I saw it, Jake needed the release.

  Despite securing his freedom nearly three months earlier, his life only seemed to be getting harder. The nightmares weren’t subsiding, and the hollowed out sadness persisted. Any illusions my parents may have had of bringing normalcy back into his routine were shattered fairly quickly as the reality of the situation played in front of us. Jake was not returning to his old life anytime soon.

  How naïve I’d been to think that Jake’s survival would bring peace back to our fractured family. None of us could have predicted just how damaged a person he’d become. Sometimes when I listened to him scream, I wondered if he might actually have been better off dying. I knew it was a horrible thought, but clearly it was what Jake wanted… having only a few days ago swallowed a bottle of pills before being rushed to the hospital to have his stomach pumped. His was a miserable existence, one not worthy of the vibrant boy he’d once been.

  Maybe it was just too early in his recovery to see a light at the end of the tunnel. After all, if he could recover physically, as he was doing day by day, why not mentally? It was slow going, but Jake’s battered body was healing. Although I’d yet to be given an explanation as to how it happened, my brother’s knee was badly damaged during the kidnapping. With intensive physical therapy, he was actually walking again, albeit with crutches and a limp. And even though his current mental state was unsettling at best, he’d been worse… way worse. In the hospital, when he’d first awakened from surgery, he’d fallen into a trance-like state, babbling incoherently to himself, seemingly unaware of his surroundings or who was in the room with him.

  Thankfully Jake’s dazed state lasted only about a week, although the terror that had put him there still remained. A steady stream of trauma counselors and mental health professionals were called to his aid, and were rotated in and out on a daily basis. Everyone seemed to have opinions on my brother’s fragile state of mind, and each assigned him a new diagnosis. In time, the bevy of therapists was whittled down to a trusted few who seemed most committed to his recovery. Often volunteering their time, the therapists worked tirelessly with Jake, even spending the night in our home occasionally in order to give him ways to cope with his night terrors.

  Jake’s crying petered out. It never lasted long, just short bursts of grief interrupting his otherwise excruciating existence.

  I turned slightly, resting my head on the wall, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  There really just wasn’t anything else to say. I wished I had the answers to help him live again, but I was as hopeless as the rest of them. Stretching out my legs, the top of my toe unintentionally tapped the wall, and I froze. Crap. Had he heard me? Did he know I was here? Would he storm my room in a frenzy?

  I held my breath and waited. After a moment of silence, I sighed with relief and picked up the book I’d been reading earlier.

  Tap.

  I stared incredulously at the wall, unsure if I’d really heard what I thought I’d heard. Was he tapping back? Desperate for some type of communication, I took a chance and tapped back twice. A minute stretched as I waited, hoping I hadn’t over-stepped my bounds or embarrassed him in his private crying time.

  Tap. Tap.

  A happy flutter filled my chest as my brother recognized my trustworthiness and rewarded me with this unconventional conversation. It was just a series of taps, but its meaning spoke volumes. I’d just been granted the tiniest opening into his tightly closed-off world.

  “Knock, knock!” Quinn said, his voice pitched high in excitement. His deeply tanned face was inches from mine as his hands gripped my shoulders. He was wearing only a pair of swim trunks and a devilish smile. I reached up and tousled his soft, sun-streaked waves, which were currently plastered to his head courtesy of the backyard sprinkler. He friskily swatted my hand away.

  “Knock, knock, Emma.” He repeated the opening line of his impending joke with more insistence.

  In response I kissed his nose playfully.

  “Gross.” He wiped away my cooties with the back of his hand. “KNOCK, KNOCK!”

  I grinned. Oh, how I loved this kid! I’d grown so close to Quinn and Grace over the past few months. Becoming their primary caretaker
had not been by choice, but, surprisingly, I’d come to relish the role. With Mom having her hands full with Jake and Dad spread thin working two jobs so she could be home full time, focusing on my younger siblings became my contribution to the family. I fed them breakfast in the morning, dressed them in appropriate clothing, and dropped them off on my way to school. Then it was a matter of picking them up from school, helping with homework, feeding them dinner, and getting them showered.

  There was no doubt that things had changed drastically for me, not only at home but at school. When I returned to classes after Jake’s rescue, I saw things with freshly jaded eyes, and was surprised to discover that the friends I’d been hanging out with for so long were not my friends at all. Shallow and malicious, my one-time girl squad ruled the school with an iron fist. Had I once been like them? Cringing, I shook off the memory of my own obnoxious struts down the school hallways. My ‘friends’ welcomed me back with open arms, but only because my train wreck of a family was the biggest news to come out of our town in a hundred years. My tragedy was their pot of gossip gold.

  Gradually I withdrew from my superficial friend group, preferring instead to spend my lunch in the library studying. No longer feeling like the girl who’d once roamed these halls, I turned inward, focusing on my grades and not those who snickered about Jake behind my back.

  It wasn’t until my return to school that I realized just how much misfortune had changed me. Life was a gift, one not to be taken for granted, and I refused to waste precious time on people who didn’t matter. My family… they mattered. And as imperfect and fractured as we were, our love was genuine and all-encompassing.

  “Who’s there?” I answered my adorable little brother.

  “Madam.”

  “Madam who?”

  “Madam foot’s stuck in the door.” Quinn dissolved into a fit of giggles. Of course, I’d heard this one a thousand times before, but still I laughed. It really was all in the delivery.