Tomorrow's Lies (Promises #1) (7 page)

The placement is fitting; Mandy is there for both of us.

Mandy also went over the third-floor rules that first night. 1) Once you’re in the room at night, you can only leave for a bathroom run. 2) Cameras in the hall ensure you don’t take too long or deviate from your course. 3) There are no detours allowed, meaning no boys in the girls’ room and no girls in the boys’.

Thinking of the boys reminds me again of Flynn, and that gets me back to thinking about his absence today. I glance over at the open barn doors, like I expect him to saunter in any minute, all confident, like he always seems to be.

When I sigh, Mandy, who misses nothing, says softly, “If you’re wondering when Flynn is coming in, don’t bother. He won’t be working with us in the barn today.”

I begin to flounder. I’m embarrassed I’ve been so easily read. “Oh, uh, he’s not working with us this afternoon, huh? Okay.” I try to appear nonchalant. “I wasn’t really thinking about him,” I fib, “but that’s good to know.”

The too-high lilt in my voice gives me away, and, as established, Mandy
is
perceptive.

With a knowing grin, she says, “It’s okay if you like him, Jaynie. Flynn
is
really cute. And he’s a sweetheart, too.”

I don’t want to step on any toes, so I carefully inquire, “You and Flynn aren’t, like, together or anything, right?”

Mandy laughs out loud. Waving her half sandwich in the air, she says, “Oh, God, no. He’s too much like a real brother to me. And besides”—she blushes—“I have someone special waiting for me. When I get out of this place, I plan to meet up with him.”

I’m curious to learn more about Mandy’s mystery man, but my interest as to why Flynn is missing supersedes everything.

“So, where
is
Flynn?” I go ahead and straight-out ask.

Mandy takes a huge bite of her sandwich—we’re always ravenous around here—and then starts to say, “He—”

And that’s when Cody leans across the table and interrupts her.

Tugging on the sleeve of Mandy’s threadbare blouse, he sheepishly whispers, “Cody can’t open this, either.” His little-kid voice is squeaky and high as he awkwardly holds out a tiny red and white milk carton. “Mandy help me?”

“Of course, honey. Let me get that for you.” Mandy slips the carton from Cody’s outstretched hand, squeezes the little flap open, and hands it back to him.

Cody sits back down and takes a huge drink. Mandy meanwhile reaches across the table and gently combs hair as dark as night back from Cody’s forehead.

It’s then that I notice Cody’s twin, Callie, is watching the whole exchange with great interest. Much like her brother, her large brown eyes are obscured by the tips of her too-long bangs. She pushes the wayward strands from her face, mimicking how Mandy tamed Cody’s hair. When she’s done, Callie’s gaze slides over to me.

I smile, but it feels forced. I am so not a natural with kids. Since Callie barely knows me, I half-expect her to have a negative response. To my complete surprise, she presents me with a wide, genuine grin, one that warms my cautious heart.

The five of us spend every day together, almost every hour, but this is the first either of the twins has made a real effort to interact with me. Up until today, I’ve been invisible.

That’s your own damn fault
, I think. And then I realize deep inside that I want to connect with these kids, just like I’ve connected with Flynn and Mandy.

I glance over at Mandy. She’s busy again with Cody. He’s leaning across the table, whispering that he has to go to the bathroom. I discovered on day one that the bathroom is just an old outhouse in the back of the barn. We’re not allowed back in the house till the work day is over, not even for necessary bodily functions.

Outhouse runs with Cody are usually a task handled by Flynn, but he’s obviously not available to help. And I still have no idea why.

Holding up two fingers like a peace symbol, Mandy says, “I’ll be back in two, Jaynie.”

Cody has gotten up and is tugging away at her arm. His other hand is clutching the crotch of his pants. “Gotta go-o-o
now
,” he desperately proclaims.

“Okay, okay.” Turning to me, Mandy cups her mouth and whispers, “We’ll finish our talk as soon as I’m back.”

“Okay,” I reply. “Sure.”

Mandy stands up and asks Callie, “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

“Yes.” She straightens in her seat like a star pupil. Callie clearly views herself as Mandy’s little helper and she takes that job seriously. It’s actually really cute.

Mandy says to her, “Can you keep Jaynie company while I take your brother out to the bathroom? Maybe talk with her a little, make her feel all warm and welcome.”

Callie peers down at the table and puffs out her lower lip. She’s contemplating, and I am left on pins and needles, waiting for this little girl to say
no way
does she want to sit with the odd girl—me.

When she looks up, to my delight, her little head bobs up and down in assent. “Yes, I’ll stay with Jaynie. I like her, she’s nice, and I think she should feel super-duper welcome. She’s part of our family now, right?”

“She sure is, sweetie.” Mandy smiles encouragingly at me as she walks away. “See?” she mouths.

Mandy has been insisting for days that the twins like me. I guess I just found it hard to believe. Stupid me, I should have trusted Mandy. She seems to know everything when it comes to this place. Flynn may be the ultimate decision-maker in this makeshift family, but Mandy is the one who knows stuff. She makes sure things get done. I guess you could say she’s like a mother hen to everyone. Seems it’s time to accept that now includes me.

That thought makes me happy. I could use a friend, and Mandy has an easy way about her, kind of like Flynn. I know already I’ll be sad when she turns eighteen in late July. I’m sure that’s when she’ll leave to meet up with the guy who is waiting for her.

I exhale loudly, resigned that everything in life is temporary.

Callie, eyeing me curiously, asks, “What’s wrong, Jaynie? Why are you blowing air out of your mouth? Mandy does that when she’s sad. Are you sad?”

Whoa, I am not used to young kids and their direct questions. However, I don’t want to upset Callie with talk of Mandy’s inevitable departure, so I stick with, “I was just thinking about how nice Mandy is and how much I like her.”

Callie’s face lights up. “Mandy
is
nice, Jaynie. She’s the bestest-best almost-Mommy Cody and I could ever have.”

“She is pretty awesome,” I agree.

“I don’t just like Mandy, though,” Callie goes on, her voice a cheerful sing-song. “I love, love, love her. And Cody loves, loves, loves her, too.”

“I can see why,” I say, laughing.

Callie just about breaks my heart then, when she grows somber and says, “Did you know our real mommy didn’t want us?”

I shake my head. “No, honey, I didn’t know that.” Sadly, I am not surprised. There’s a reason the twins are in foster care, after all.

“She left us a long, long time ago.” Callie blinks back tears and whispers, “And I don’t think she’s ever coming back to get us.”

My heart hurts hearing the pain in Callie’s tone. And then there is this…

“Hey,” Callie exclaims, like something just clicked in her head. “Do you know my real mommy?”

I sigh. Kids see the world as so small. I’m an adult to Callie, and that makes her think I might just know her mother. Of course, I don’t.

“No, honey,” I say as gently as I can. “I don’t know your real mommy.”

“Okay.” Her bottom lip quivers, and I expect her to cry. But the little girl pulled it together a minute ago, and she does so again now.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” she says. “Do you want to know why?”

“Okay,” I reply. “Why.”

“I’ll tell you.” Callie lowers her voice to a whisper. “But it’s a secret, okay?”

“Okay.”

She kneels on her chair, leans over Mandy’s seat.

Cupping her mouth, Callie says softly, “Our real mommy doesn’t matter because Mandy is going to be my real mom. Cody’s, too, like, for real, for real.”

“Yeah?” I’m confused, but I play along. “That’s good.”

“It is,” she says. “We’re going to live with Mandy someday when she gets her own place. She’ll adopt us, and we’ll all be a family.”

Oh, God, if you’re up there, please make that happen.
Mandy would be a better mom to these kids than any of the foster parents I’ve ever heard about or come across
.

“That’d be amazing, Callie,” I reply. “I hope it really happens.”

“It will,” she says confidently as she slides back down in her chair.

Silence descends, and while my thoughts drift, I distractedly scoop what chips remain in my small foil bag. I notice Callie’s eyes zooming in on my food like a laser, hunger naked in her gaze. I am freaking starving, but I now understand what compelled Flynn to give his nutrition bars away. I can’t say no to this sweet little kid who has gotten such a raw deal in life.

Holding my last handful of chips out to her, I say, “You can have the rest if you want.”

Callie’s eyes widen in disbelief. “But they’re yours. Aren’t you hungry?”

I
am
famished, but I tell Callie, “I’m actually pretty full.” I hold out the chips and say encouragingly, “Here, take them. I want you to have them.”

“Thank you, Jaynie,” she whispers.

Callie is careful not to touch me as I drop the chips in her hand. Word has clearly gotten out that I have a problem with touching. Thing is, I’m fine with children. To prove that point, I reach over and ruffle Callie’s hair with my non-greasy hand. Her brown eyes widen and she stares at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “Mrs. Lowry told us not to ever, ever touch you,” she says. “She told us it upsets you. Is that true?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Thanks, Crafty Lo, for broadcasting my issues to everyone in the house. And double thanks for getting the facts wrong.

I tell Callie, “No. You and Cody can touch me anytime you want, okay? And Mandy is probably fine, too.”

“Whaf about Fhlynn?” Callie asks from around a mouthful of chips.

Hmm, what about Flynn?

“Good question,” I murmur.

I’ve been wondering the same thing lately myself. The thought of Flynn touching me certainly doesn’t disgust me. Still, I’ve got a long way to go. Imagining something is far different than experiencing it.

Shrugging, I add, “I don’t know, Callie. Maybe someday.”

Under the table, I cross my fingers and hope there may indeed come a day where I’ll be okay with Flynn touching me. Nothing crazy; just a hug would be nice.

Cody and Mandy come back in the barn just as Callie is finishing the last of the chips from me.

Mandy, noticing the empty foil bag I’m folding, sits down, and says, “That was sweet of you, Jaynie.”

“It was nothing.” I wave my hand dismissively, not wanting my gesture to be turned into a big deal. We all help each other around here, I see that now.

Mandy lets it drop and returns to our original subject. “So,” she says, smiling conspiratorially, “back to Flynn.”

“Yes, back to Flynn. He’s not sick, is he?”

“No.” Mandy’s eyes, a paler green than mine, fill with irritation.

Concerned, I ask, “What’s wrong, Mandy?”

She sighs. “The reason Flynn isn’t working with us today is because he was assigned to spring cleaning duty up at the house.”

“Spring cleaning?” I frown, confused. “But Sunday is for chores. Plus, we have so much to do right here. The house didn’t look dirty to me,” I continue. “And won’t Flynn have twice as much work tomorrow to make up for missing today?”

“Yep, he sure will. But, according to Allison”—Mandy rolls her eyes—“Flynn was
desperately
needed at the house.”

“Ugh, poor Flynn. I don’t think I like Allison very much.”

“Watch out for her, Jaynie.” Mandy’s tone is grim when she adds, “She’s a dangerous, jealous bitch.”

I suspected as much. Mrs. Lowry is the stern taskmaster who hides behind a false bubbly persona, but for as bad as she is, I sense her daughter, Allison, is worse. Mrs. Lowry is all about maximizing profits; her working us hard isn’t personal. Allison, on the other hand, has a gleam in her eyes, the kind that warns you to watch out for her. She’s that seemingly harmless dog you reach out to pet and end up with your hand ripped off.

“I’ll be careful,” I promise, shuddering at the vivid imagery in my head.

“Be careful what you say and do around her,” Mandy continues. “Especially with Flynn in the picture.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

Mandy glances over at Callie and Cody, like she doesn’t want to say too much with them within earshot. The twins are preoccupied, however, busy taking their empty milk cartons apart so they can make shapes and pretend they are toys.

Mandy and I share a sad smile when we turn back from Cody and Callie.

“Anyway,” she begins, “the problem with Allison is she wants Flynn, like, bad.”

Mandy chuckles, and I ask, “What’s funny about that?”

“It’s funny ‘cause Flynn can’t stand the bitch.”

“So, how’d she get so fixated on him?”

Mandy snorts, “Have you ever looked at him?”
I sure have
. “Dude is hot.”
He sure is
. “But it’s not just that.” Mandy sighs. “Allison got obsessed with Flynn after she started giving him cigarettes and smoking with him.”
So that’s where he gets them
. “He’s trying to give them up now. He doesn’t want to owe her anything, you know?”

I feel sick.

“What does she want from him?” I force myself to ask.

Mandy lowers her voice to an almost-whisper so the twins don’t accidentally overhear. “Sex, of course,” she says. “Allison wants Flynn in her bed. What’d I say before, Jaynie? That body, those muscles. Allison is like a bitch in heat. She wants Flynn
bad
.”

“He hasn’t, uh, done anything with her, has he?”
Please say no, please say no
. For some reason, it’s important to me.

“Hell, no.” I breathe a sigh of relief, and Mandy continues. “Trust me, Jaynie. Flynn doesn’t plan on doing anything with her. I told you he despises her. And he sure as hell doesn’t trust Allison at all.”