Tomorrow's Lies (Promises #1) (35 page)

“This is unbelievable,” I say. “You mentioned Mrs. Lowry was under investigation, but this is way bigger.”

“It sure is,” Mandy agrees.

“You know what this means, then?”

“I sure do,” she replies, her voice no longer the least bit sleepy-sounding. “If Mrs. Lowry was holding something over Flynn, it’s over now.”

“That’s right,” I agree, smiling ear-to-ear. “Flynn is free to come to Lawrence.”

Flynn

I
am free to leave Forsaken. But that freedom feels surreal. The concept of true freedom is so overwhelming that I become shackled by indecision.

When should I leave? How will I get there? Can someone drive me to Lawrence? Is there a bus that goes in that direction?

Crick informs me there
is
a bus to Lawrence. It leaves every evening, and, ironically, stops smack dab in front of the park. That’s right, the same park I was supposed to swim to months ago.

I go to the bus stop every day, but never quite get to the point of hopping on. Something holds me back, but I can’t put my finger on what it could be. Mrs. Lowry divulging what she knows about that fateful night in October is no longer a concern. No one would believe her now, even if she did decide to tell. Her once-good name is mud these days, her reputation sullied beyond repair. She and Allison both pled guilty to reduced sentences, but they’re still going to prison for a
very
long time.

So, yeah, they’re not why I’m staying.

I guess I remain in Forsaken in the hopes of building my courage. I mean, shit, what if Jaynie has moved on with her life?

And there is this, my real worry. I still love Jaynie, but what if she’s given up on me?

In the end, I decide
fuck it, she’s still my girl and I can convince her to give me a second chance
.

The next day, I give my notice at the job center. “Just finish out this week,” the lady at the center says.

“I can do that,” I tell her.

On Friday night, with my last work week over, I head out to a local bar with Crick for a send-off drink. I’m underage, but no one questions me when I walk in with my friend. I know I look older than eighteen these days. Eating regularly has made me grow taller. Shit, I’m coming up on six-one now. And working construction has bulked me up. Muscles once long and lean are now bulging masses.

As Crick and I sit down at the bar, a burly bartender, who looks like a lumberjack, asks us what we want.

“Two drafts and couple shots of whiskey,” Crick says. “Make it the good stuff, too, for the whiskey. Not that cheap garbage that’ll give you the shits the next day.”

Lumberjack-bartender laughs. “No problem.”

When the drinks arrive, Crick takes a long pull from his beer, but I pretty much just stare down into mine.

“Listen up, kid,” Crick says, setting his mug back down on the bar. “We gotta have a talk.”

“Okay.”

Crick lights up a cigarette, holds the box out to me. “You want one?”

I want one, but I decline. “No, I quit.”

Crick shrugs and stuffs the box back into the pocket of his flannel jacket.

After taking a couple of quick drags, he squints over at me. “Your girl don’t like you smokin’, huh? That why you giving it up?”

Still staring down at my mug of untouched beer, I say, “Yeah, Jaynie doesn’t like me smoking. She’s the one who got me to quit the first time.”

Exhaling, he says, “Must be a special lady.”

“She is.”

I finally take a drink of my beer. The shots, though, remain untouched on the bar, mine and Crick’s both. It’s like we’re holding out, waiting for something worthwhile to drink to.

Crick reaches for a plastic ashtray, and as he’s stubbing out his butt, he says, “So, can I ask you something, Flynn?”

“Sure.”

“Why are you still in this shithole town? You could’ve left days ago.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I say, defensive.

“So you say.”

“I am, Crick, I am.”

Peering over at me, he asks, “What’s been keeping you here? Like, be straight with me. What’s the real issue?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I guess I’m just worried.”

“Yeah?” He lights another cigarette. “Worried about what?”

I’m suddenly thirsty, my throat parched as I confront my fears head-on. I down my beer in three seconds flat, and smacking the mug down on the bar, I signal the bartender for another. Dealing with this shit in my head, the crap holding me back, is going to require a little liquid courage.

Halfway through my second beer, I tell Crick the truth. “What if Jaynie’s moved on, man? What if she found someone else, someone better? I mean, look at me.” I gesture to my old jeans and flannel shirt, my beat-up winter coat hanging over the back of the chair. “It’s not like I have a lot to offer her. I wouldn’t even blame her if she didn’t want me anymore.”

Crick lights up what must be his fourth smoke, and shit, I almost ask him for one. But no, I need to stay strong. Just in case I’m wrong about Jaynie, and she does still want my sorry ass.

“Listen up, kid, and listen good.” He flicks an ash to the tray and misses. “What you told me you had with this girl sounds like it was true love.”

“It is.” I sigh. “Or it was.”

“So,” Crick slurs. He’s halfway to drunk, but he’s been known to impart some of his best wisdom in this state. I listen closely as he says, “True love doesn’t just up and die. True love stands the test of time, man. You better get on that bus tomorrow. Go find this Jaynie and make her yours again. Live your life, Flynn.” His voice becomes more serious. “You’ve been given a second chance, and those don’t come around too much. Take it from me, kid. Don’t blow it.”

I shake my head and chuckle. “Crick, I think that’s the wisest shit I’ve ever heard you spout.”

He holds up a shot, one of the ones we’ve yet to touch. “Well, I got one more. Here’s to you and your girl, Flynn. May you find everlasting happiness.”

I tap my shot to his. “I’ll drink to that.”

And then I do.

Jaynie

A
whole week passes, and still, no Flynn.

“Give him time, Jaynie,” Mandy tells me. “He’s a guy, and guys need to do things on their own schedule. Trust me, he’ll be in Lawrence soon enough.”

“I hope you’re right,” I reply, worried that Flynn has moved on.

I try not to bug Mandy too much, especially when she gets word from the state that the twins could be placed with her any day now. I’m as excited as she is when I hear
that
update.

“First thing I plan to do is figure out a way to come up and visit you guys,” I tell her the day she gets the good news.

“Bill will bring you,” she assures me.

And sure enough, Saturday morning, I am awoken by Bill’s frantic knocking on my apartment door.

“Jaynie, Jaynie, it’s me, Bill. Are you awake in there?”

I jump out of bed and open the door. “What’s wrong?” I ask, half-asleep still.

“Nothing is wrong, nothing at all.” Bill smiles widely. “In fact, everything is good. Mandy called.” I squeal, but he ignores me. “She’s picking up Cody and Callie
this
morning
.”

“Holy hell, no way!” I start bouncing up and down on my toes.

“It’s true,” he says, chuckling at my enthusiasm. “If you’re up for it, we can drive up to Morgantown and see them this afternoon.”

“Really, Bill?”

“Yes, Jaynie, really.”

I’m about to sprint out to the hall—I am
that
ready to roll—but then I glance down at my bummy sleep tee and PJ bottoms.

“Guess I should change, huh?” I say sheepishly.

Bill laughs. “Probably a good idea.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes to shower and dress. I’ll be quick.” This is one of those times you wish you could snap your fingers and be ready instantly.

But, alas, Bill doesn’t mind. “Take your time, Jaynie. The twins aren’t going anywhere. They have a permanent home now, with Mandy and Josh.”

“Yes, they do.” I am so happy I could cry. “They sure do.”

When I walk through the front door and into the modest living room at Mandy and Josh’s place, two little bodies slam into me.

Overwhelmed and overjoyed, I drop to my knees and hold onto Callie and Cody like my life depends on it. Maybe it does. I certainly feel renewed by these two kids I love and haven’t seen in what feels like forever.

“God, you even smell the same,” I murmur into Callie’s hair, then Cody’s. I squeeze them tightly to me. “I don’t think I can let you go.”

“Then no let us go,” Cody says.

“Okay, I won’t.”

We all squeeze together in a huddle of hugs.

“We missed you so much,” Callie whispers.

“I missed you, too, babies.”

“I not a baby,” Cody declares as he leans back, breaking our snug little huddle.

“I know you’re not a baby, sweetheart.”

We break into peals of laughter, and oh, how I’ve missed these kids. “I love you both so much,” I tell them.

I am told I’m loved back, and then the kids smother me in more hugs and kisses.

Slowly, one beat at a time, my heart begins to mend from all the sorrow of the past few months.

When we finally rock back on our heels, I peer at Cody and Callie with bleary eyes. At least my tears are happy ones this time.

Mandy is in the doorway of what looks like the kitchen. She motions for Bill to join her to give me some alone time with the twins.

“You’ve both grown so much,” I say as Bill walks around us. “Look at you two.” I brush back a lock of Cody’s raven hair. “Your hair has grown again, and you’re at least two inches taller.”

“I grow a lot all over,” he agrees.

Callie chimes in with, “I grew a lot, too, Jaynie.”

And she has, but not as much as her brother. “You’re both so big that you’re lucky I recognized you,” I tease.

“You’ll always know us,” Callie says. “Because you love us.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I sure do love you.”

The twins look great. I’m glad they thrived with the couple they were with. They’ll do even better with Mandy. It saddens me to think the twins weren’t growing much at the Lowry house because they were so overworked and malnourished. The nightmare seems further away each day, but it’s always there, directly below the surface. You don’t walk away from what we went through unscathed.

Like Callie knows what I’m thinking, she asks, “How’d you get away?”

I could make up a tale, but the twins deserve the truth. “I ran.”

Cody tilts his head and asks, “Flynnie run with you?”

“No, sweetie, he couldn’t.”
Crap, wrong thing to say.

And sure enough, the next question out of Cody’s mouth is, “Why he couldn’t run with you?”

“Um…” I glance toward the kitchen in the hopes of garnering Mandy’s attention. But her back is turned. I am on my own with this one.

“He kind of got out in a different way,” I say.

Cody points to the closed front door. “Flynnie no with you, is he?”

“No, sweetheart, he’s not.”

His face falls. “He no want to come see me?”

“Oh, no, honey. It’s nothing like that.” I place my hands on his cheeks and wipe away the tears he sheds, tears that may as well be my own. “Flynn is busy working today,” I fib, though I wonder if it’s true. Flynn could be working at his job since he’s obviously staying in Forsaken. And some construction jobs require Saturday laboring, right?