Today's Promises (Promises #2)(42)

“Shit, man,” he said as syrupy soda flowed everywhere.

His eyes flittered from Flynn to me as he nervously pulled napkins from the dispenser on the table.

“Sorry, miss,” he directed to me, his pale skin turning about twenty shades of red. “Please excuse my clumsiness. Oh, and my cursing.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re fine,” I assured him. I then grabbed napkins on my own and helped clean up the mess on my and Flynn’s side of the table.

Our waitress came over with a rag shortly thereafter and cleaned the table more thoroughly. She then brought Crick a new drink, and when she left he plucked up an ice cube from his lap and plopped it into his new soda, proclaiming, “Guess my clumsiness at least spilled the ice for us, yeah?”

Flynn busted out laughing. “Dude, you mean ‘broke the ice,’ not ‘spilled the ice.’”

The three of us couldn’t help but chuckle over the spilled-ice incident that did indeed ‘break the ice.’

Our conversation moved on from there, and as of the last few minutes we’re discussing our plans for the future. A topic that used to make me sad, but now makes me smile. Just knowing I have a future fills me with joy.

Noticing my grin, Flynn places his hand over mine. “Yeah, we got it all planned out,” he tells Crick.

“Do ya now?” Crick replies.

“Yep,” Flynn says. And then he proceeds to tell him, “Jaynie’s going to be making an appointment over at the community college in Lawrence. She’s ready to sit down with a career counselor and sign up for some classes. She has a dream, you know?”

Flynn is so proud of me. I hope I can live up to his expectations.

One day at a time, I remind myself.

Crick smoothes back his stringy blond hair and asks me, “What’s your dream, Miss Jaynie?”

“I’m hoping to someday help kids who are in situations like the one Flynn and I were in.”

I’ve put more thought into what I want to do down the road, and I keep returning to the helping kids/social work idea. Flynn is fully onboard, of course. He’s my biggest cheerleader, in fact. He even completed all the financial aid forms for me online, using Bill’s computer.

Crick nods approvingly. “That sounds real nice. Giving back and all, that’s what life is all about.”

“For sure,” Flynn agrees.

Crick picks up a straw and taps it against the edge of the table like it’s a cigarette he’s flicking ashes from. He must be jonesing for an after-dinner smoke.

Flynn, watching Crick flick the straw, says to him, “Hey, man, if you need to go outside and grab a smoke, we’re fine with that. I’d join you, but I’ve finally quit for good.”

“Good for you,” Crick says, his tone revealing he’s genuinely pleased for Flynn. “I’m actually trying to quit for good myself.” He holds up the straw. “Been collecting these everywhere I go. I read somewhere that after you’ve weaned yourself from the nicotine, it’s mostly missing the action of smoking that gets ya started again.”

“Hmm,” Flynn says, “that kind of makes sense.”

We stay and talk for a while longer, but eventually we must go our separate ways. Not before making plans to meet up again sometime soon, though.

In the car, as we start heading home, I scoot over and lean my head against Flynn’s shoulder. “Tired, babe?” he asks.

“A little,” I reply. “Mostly, though, I feel relaxed. We had such a good time. I really like Crick. He’s a good guy.”

“He is,” Flynn agrees. And then, with a smile creeping into his voice, he says, “And as for relaxed, relaxed is good. No. You know what?”

“What?”

“Relaxed is more than good. It’s great.”

“It is,” I agree, yawning.

On the way home that night, I think about how our lives are changing, all in positive ways. The only thing hanging over our heads is the Allison Lowry situation.

But that’s a worry best saved for another day.





Flynn



We put it off and we put it off…

And then one evening, right before bed, Detective Silver calls with the news that it’s happening. That which we’ve allowed ourselves to forget as we focused on learning to enjoy our lives is about to occur—Allison is slated to be released from prison in July.

When I hit ‘end’ on the devastating call, Jaynie is just coming out of our bathroom. I inform her of the bad news immediately.

She pales and mutters, “That’s only a month away, Flynn.”

“I know.” I take a seat on the edge of our bed and place my head in my hands.

“We have to do something,” she says.

“Like what?” I mutter, out of options.

Jaynie throws her hands up in the air. “I don’t know, Flynn.” She sounds exasperated. “I guess we better do what we should have done before. We need to return to Forsaken and search the hell out of that property. There has to be something we missed.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, but there must be something.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” I run my hands down my jeans and stand. I always think better on my feet. As I begin pacing our small room, I give voice to my burgeoning thoughts. “We never properly searched the new barn, we know that. It was too dark the night we were up there to really see anything. You remember that night, right?”