by S. R. Grey
Short of seeking professional help, for which Flynn and I have no money, I can’t come up with any good solution. His attempt to insert religion into my life was sweet, but I had to tell him church just isn’t for me. Not at this time. I’m still angry at God for all I’ve lost.
Time is not my friend, either. Instead of healing old wounds, it seems the passage of the days, and then the weeks, only serve to cut open my psychological wounds more deeply than ever. Because no matter how you slice it, every day that goes by is a day closer to Allison Lowry being released from prison.
But then, just when I’m convinced all hope is lost and I am truly going off the deep end for good, a lifeline is thrown my way.
It happens on a warm evening at the very end of April, when I’m working my shift at the sandwich shop. The smell of spring is hanging heavy in the air, having been ushered in throughout the day with a steady flow of customers.
But the day is almost over, and I’m rushing around to close out for the night.
When my work is finally complete, I lock the front door and prepare to head upstairs to Flynn, who arrived back from his own job a short while ago.
But then, just as I’m making my way up the stairs, my cell phone rings. I pull the device from my pocket, thinking it’s probably more bad news of some kind. But when I see Mandy’s name on the screen, I figure it’s something positive. It is! To my delight—the first delight I’ve felt in a while—Mandy invites us to a birthday celebration on Saturday for the twins.
Knowing I’ll be seeing my ‘family’ soon makes me feel better than I have in a while.
“Wild horses couldn’t keep us away,” I tell Mandy right before we disconnect.
Upstairs in our room, I relay the news of our invite to Flynn. To which, he replies, “Talk about perfect timing. We needed something like this to lift our spirits.”
He really means me, but I agree and say, “Absolutely.”
“Wow,” he remarks as he flips back the covers on our bed. “The twins are going to be thrilled when they see all of us are there to celebrate their birthday.”
Flynn is ready for bed already, clad in boxer briefs and a tee. I grab my own sleepwear and start putting it on. “I think the party will be good for everyone,” I say quietly.
As he crawls into bed, he says, “It’s great that we have our own car now too. We won’t have to borrow Bill’s. Plus, now we can stay as long as we like. Cody won’t be disappointed that we have to leave at such-and-such time.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
One positive development as of late is that we recently reached our first savings goal and were able to purchase a car. It’s just an old Ford Focus, one that looks like it rolled off the assembly line a long, long time ago. But, damn it, it’s not terrible. And, better than that, it’s all ours.
As I tug my sleep shorts up my legs, I add, “Having our own transportation sure makes planning a day like this much easier.”
Flynn fluffs up the pillows so he can lean back against them. When he has them the way he likes, he says quietly, “It’ll sure be nice to see Cody again. To tell you the truth, I can’t wait.”
It’s touching how much Flynn loves Cody. I stop what I’m doing so I can smile over at him.
“It’ll be nice for both of you,” I say. “It seems like we’ve been working so much and dealing with all that case stuff all the time that we haven’t seen Mandy and the twins in freaking forever.”
Flynn folds his arms across his chest. “Well, now we’ll see them real soon. And it’s always a good thing when we’re all reunited.”
“It is,” I agree. “It sure makes me feel better.”
He pats the space next to him. “Come on, come to bed. Let’s get some sleep. Work was a bitch today and I’m ready to crash.”
“Okay, one sec.”
After a quick pit stop to the bathroom, I crawl in bed next to a clearly very drowsy Flynn.
“Nothing bad happened at work today, right?” I inquire as I place my hand on his smooth chest.
“No, no, nothing at all,” he replies, yawning. “It was just the usual—another long-ass day.”
I kind of want sex, but Flynn is clearly beat. I watch as his eyes flutter open, like he’s trying to stay awake. But after a minute, they close and he’s dead to the world.
“Men,” I murmur. “How can they fall asleep so damn easily?”
I’m tired, but sleep never comes easy for me. And tonight, after a good forty-five minutes of tossing and turning, I just give up. Slipping out from under the covers, I head to the bathroom to raid my candy bar stash.
There’s comfort in routine, and after consuming a bar and a half, I feel pretty even-keeled. Chocolate, and the invitation from Mandy, has lifted my spirits, but I know I’m quite a long ways from well.
Still, I don’t feel the need to compulsively clean anything on this night. And, later, when I finally do find sleep, I only have one minor nightmare.
And that, for me, signals that there’s hope I will someday be whole.
Flynn
Saturday arrives, and by mid-morning, Jaynie and I are making the trip up to Morgantown for the twins’ birthday.
When we arrive, I discover Josh is home this time. I finally get to meet him, and we hit it off just fine. We shoot the breeze while Mandy and Jaynie head to the kitchen to get things ready for the party.
But even with the girls out of the room, the twins are still running around, interrupting us every five seconds and making my interaction with Josh limited, at best. I’m actually glad when, a short while later, Mandy has a sudden crisis and sends us on an unexpected errand to pick up more ice cream at the convenience store down the road.
Finally!
It’s my first opportunity to talk with Josh with no one around and no interruptions. A little man-to-man time never hurt anyone, and I’ve found it usually results in some unexpected disclosures.
To move things in that direction, when we leave the house and are walking across the lawn to his truck, I remark to Josh, “Wow, Mandy sure is a flustered mess today. It’s usually not like her to go off the deep end over something as small as not having bought enough ice cream for the party.”
“It’s more than that,” Josh mutters.
Ah, there is something I’m missing here. I suspected as much when Jaynie opened a tub of Neapolitan a short while ago, only to discover it’d been dug into pretty good. She mentioned this to Mandy, who then started wringing her hands. Mandy also turned about ten different shades of red. And then, after apologizing to everyone in the room, which seemed really unnecessary, she asked me and Josh to go buy more.
“What do you mean, it’s more than that?” I ask once we’re in the truck.
Buckling his seat belt, Josh says, “It’s just that Mandy should have bought more in the first place. We could have avoided this whole situation.”
Situation? Since when is ice cream a crisis?
When Josh nervously runs a hand through his blond hair, I sense he needs to talk. Hey, I know that feeling all too well.
“What’s really going on?” I ask him.
He releases a pent-up breath. “It’s just… Mandy, sometimes…”
“What?” I press.
“Okay, I’ll tell you. But know in advance, this is gonna sound crazy.”
“I doubt that,” I murmur.
He blows out another breath, along with a nervous laugh. “Okay, so, here’s the deal. Whenever there’s any ice cream in that fucking house, I swear Mandy can’t keep her hands off it.”
Whoa, this sounds familiar. “Go on,” I prompt.
“Well, take last night, for example. I caught Mandy in the kitchen, at, like, three in the morning. She was shoveling these huge spoonfuls of that Neapolitan stuff like it was the last thing she might ever eat. Dude, it was crazy.” He shoots me a sidelong glance, to which I nod. “Anyway, I got her to stop. But she must’ve gone back downstairs once I was asleep so she could eat more.”
Shit.
So Mandy deals with issues similar to Jaynie.
It’s somewhat surprising to me, since she always seems so together. It shouldn’t be, though. We all deal with food issues, even the twins. Still, Mandy is always so strong and sure of herself, she was especially so when we lived in the same house. Not that there was ever any ice cream available to dig into.
Nor were there candy bars.
Sighing, I say, “Hey, you’re not alone, dude.” I feel like a new bond has been forged with Josh. “It’s the same deal with Jaynie,” I go on. “She keeps a stash of candy bars hidden in our bathroom. Has them all stuffed up under the sink.”
He shoots me a sad, commiserating smile. “It’s tough sometimes, isn’t it? It’s like you want to help them so fucking much, but you have no damn idea how to fix things.”
“I don’t know if it’s possible to fix anything,” I say. “Hell, I’ve called out Jaynie on the candy bars a time or two. But, really”—I lower my voice, ashamed—“I have no room to lecture her.”
I don’t elaborate any more than that. There’s no reason to tell Josh that I have my own supply of candy bars stowed under a loose floorboard in our closet.
You know, just in case.
“Wow.” Josh shakes his head. “I guess there is no fixing it, then.”
“Dude…” Now it’s my turn to run my fingers through my hair. “If you saw the conditions we once lived in, you’d totally get it.”
“Yeah, well, from what Mandy has shared with me, it sounds like you guys had it rough at the Lowry house.”
“You can’t even imagine,” I mutter.
When we return from the store with the ice cream, I overhear Mandy whispering to Josh, “If there’s any left, please just throw it away.”
He nods. “Okay, hon.”
A few minutes later, we push all that negative garbage behind us in order to make Cody and Callie’s birthday a success. After all, it is their day.
After we regroup in the living room, Mandy sneaks off to the kitchen to grab the cake. A few seconds later, she’s back, carefully balancing a sheet cake that’s decorated with balloons made of colorful icing. Birthday candles, nine of them in all, glow brightly on top of the cake.
The twins jump up from the floor and clamber around Mandy. “Is that for me?” Callie asks, pointing to the cake.
Her eyes are wide as saucers, the flames from the flickering candles reflecting in her gaze. I realize then these kids have probably never had a birthday cake for their birthday. God, that hurts my heart.
“The cake is for you and your brother,” Mandy tells her.
“Yeah,” Cody interjects, side-eyeing his sister. “Cake for me too.”
“Those two are hilarious with their bantering,” Jaynie murmurs to me.
“They are,” I agree, a smile brought to my lips.
Mandy slides the cake onto the coffee table, and Cody drops to the floor. He just sits and stares intently at all the colorful icing balloons.
“It so pretty,” he whispers in awe.
Jaynie nudges my arm and murmurs, “Better than nutrition bars, yeah?”
“Much better,” I agree, shaking my head as I recall last year and my sad attempt with Mandy to make the twins’ birthday special.
Mandy starts humming the opening notes of “Happy Birthday,” our cue to start singing, and I catch her eye. When she smiles over at me sadly, I know she’s also remembering last year.
“You made up for it today,” I mouth once we’re done singing.
That makes Mandy smile.
Later, once the candles have long been blown out, and the kids have dug into their cake—like literally, as in we let them eat with their hands since it’s their day—I pull Mandy aside.
“Hey, I just wanted to tell you again that you really made this day special for the twins.” I nod down to Cody and Callie, who are sprawled out on the floor, smiling and laughing, still eating cake. “Those two are truly happy today.”
Mandy closes her eyes. “God, Flynn, thank you for saying that. Their happiness means so much to me.” She opens her eyes and peers up at me. “I swear I try, I really do. But I still find myself questioning if it’ll ever really be enough.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “You’re doing a great job with the kids. You always have.”
“Thanks for saying that, but it’s just… They’ve been through so much, you know?”
“We all have,” I reply.
“Yeah, we sure have,” she agrees, sighing.
“The twins are young,” I remind her. “They’re more resilient than us. Plus, because of you fostering them, it’s really like they’re out of the system.”
“Yeah,” she says, her tone laced with regret, “I sure wish I’d gotten out of the system at eight.”
“I think we all wish that for ourselves, Mandy.”
“We do what we can, though, right?”
“Yeah, we do.”
My eyes meet hers and I realize for the first time that, despite her I’ve-got-it-together demeanor, Mandy is broken too. Hence the ice cream eating issues. I wonder what else she’s dealing with in the aftermath of what we went through.
“I’m just glad I have Josh to keep me sane,” she tells me. “He helps me keep my shit together.”
Josh is over on the sofa, talking with Jaynie.
Jerking my chin in that direction, I say to Mandy, “He seems like a really good dude. Is he still getting along well with the twins?”
“Oh, good God, yes,” she exclaims, her expression brightening. “Cody and Callie love him to death. He may as well be their biological father.”
A little tinge of regret hits me that I couldn’t be more for Cody and Callie. But Mandy and I were never a couple; we never saw each other like that. The kids deserve parents who are committed to one another, and I would never begrudge them that.
“Are you still planning to adopt the twins?” I ask.
Mandy nods. “Yes, definitely. We have more classes to attend first. Plus, Josh and I need to be married.”
I nudge her arm. “Ooh, Mandy Sullivan, someone’s old lady. Who would’ve thunk it?”
She bats me in the arm, with a warning to, “Shut the hell up, Flynn.”
“Okay, okay.”
I dodge a few more smacks, and when my beat-down has concluded, Mandy says, “So, speaking of relationships… How’s everything with you and Jaynie?”
“Fantastic,” I reply immediately. “As always.”
She chuckles and peers down at the paper plate she still has in her hand. Tiny crumbs, what’s left of her slice of cake, lie submerged in a puddle of melted ice cream. Not one to waste food—none of us ever would—Mandy raises the plate to her lips and slurps down what’s left.
“Good to the last drop,” she remarks as she deposits her empty plate in the trash bag Jaynie dragged in earlier for the spent plates and gift wrapping from the presents the twins tore into a short while ago.
“Always,” I agree.
She dabs at her mouth with a napkin, and then says softly, “Can I ask you another question, Flynn?”
“Sure.”
“Besides your relationship going well, how are you and Jaynie adjusting to the real world.”
I shrug. “Eh, we’re adjusting, I guess. To be honest, though”—I let out a sigh—“I think I’m doing better at it than Jaynie.”
“Yeah?” Mandy leans back against the wall. “How so?”
“Well…” I glance over to the couch to make sure Jaynie’s still wrapped up with talking to Josh. When it’s clear she is, I tell Mandy, “Jaynie still has a lot of nightmares.” She nods knowingly, lending further credence that her issues run deep too. “And,” I go on, “this thing with Allison potentially getting out this summer has set Jaynie back in a lot of other ways.”
Mandy doesn’t ask for elaboration, not that I’d tell her. Some things are just way too personal.
Sensing my uneasiness at this turn in the discussion, Mandy narrows the topic to the invest
igation, which is far more welcome to me.
“Jaynie told me you met with the detective on the case,” she begins.
“Yes, yes, we did.”
Frowning, Mandy says, “She also told me about the excavation.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, that. Nothing’s come of it. At least, not yet.”
After a long beat where I suspect she’s thinking this through, Mandy says, “Why are the police so focused on just the old barn? Why not dig around in other places on the property?”
I blow out a breath. “Trust me, we wanted that to happen. But the detective claimed it wasn’t realistic. Apparently, without a damn good reason, there’s not a judge in this state who’ll sign a court order to dig up the whole damn place.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Yeah, it is.”
We watch the twins play for a minute, and then Mandy says, “You know what, though, Flynn? All the property doesn’t need to be excavated.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Forget about the old barn, is what I’m saying.” Mandy shakes her head. “What about the space where the new barn is located, the barn we worked in?”
She may be onto something. “Talk to me, Mandy,” I say, urging her on.
“This is no sure thing,” she prefaces. “All I’m going on here is pure speculation. It’s just that ever since I talked with Jaynie, I’ve been thinking about the Debbie Canfield case. And I keep trying to pin where she fits into the timeline.”
Intrigued that the always-clever Mandy might be on to something, I ask, “So, what’d you come up with?”
“Well, for starters, haven’t you always wondered why a new work barn was built in the first place?”
I shrug. “No, I never really thought about it.”
“Well, think about it now, Flynn. Think like Mrs. Lowry and Allison would have.”
“Must I?” I deadpan.
“Yes,” she replies. “Because from their perspective, you have to be thinking why spend that kind of money—money you could be lining your own pockets with, mind you—on a nice, new facility for kids you don’t even care about. Why would they do that, Flynn, why?”