by KL Shandwick
From where? What is she talking about? “Get rid of him. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to talk about Martin and Adam. I don’t want to be the one to tell him that news. Tell him to go away he’s not welcome here.”
“Okay, just stop. Calm down. It’s okay, honey. No one is going to make you do anything right now, except maybe me. Get in the tub. You need to get clean. You’ve been sick, and you have to clean up; it’s in your hair.”
Tears rolled down my face as she helped me strip and I sat in the tub. Devoid of modesty or shame. It wasn’t a time for being embarrassed. I was so tired and worn down with the most unimaginable grief I hardly knew what I was doing.
Auntie Joan stayed with me and washed my hair. She was so gentle and caring, and her kindness was almost too much for me when I remembered what I’d said to her before.
“Sorry about earlier—”
“Stop. I know. You don’t have to tell me, Valerie. Life isn’t fair. You were angry and I know that was your hurt talking. I’ll go and tell him you’re not accepting visitors right now.”
That earned a smile from me because I was buck naked, sitting in the bath with the stench of puke still fresh in the air. Of course, I wasn’t. She stepped outside and softly closed the door. I heard muffled voices. Flynn’s tone sounded pleading and urgent, but a few minutes later I heard the front door close and the pneumatic release of his bus door closing.
I lay back and rinsed the sponge down my body. The distraction of Flynn in our house had made me even more confused and hurt. I finished washing and stepped out, pulling my bathrobe from the door and wrapping it tightly around me. I padded back into the bedroom and wandered over to the window. I wasn’t impressed with what I saw.
A huge fancy touring bus with black metallic paint and a purple and white sash running down the side, with Flynn and three other guys’ faces on it, was sitting in our driveway. He can stay there for all I care. He’d never really kept in touch with Martin when he left college except for that time at Christmas, so I figured he hadn’t been a true friend to him. Martin collected people. He made friends like no one else I’d ever met. He always used to say, “You can’t have too many friends.”
I pulled on some sweatpants and a hoodie and took myself downstairs. Auntie Joan was sitting staring at the fireplace when I entered the room.
“I’m not hungry, but maybe I should try some dry toast or something.”
She turned to look at me and smiled, “Sure, I think that would be a wise move, honey.”
She stood and looked out of the window. “Flynn’s bus is still out there, Valerie. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him?”
“No. He’s nothing. Martin was a good friend to him, and he walked away. I’m not letting him have that luxury twice.”
“Valerie, we all do things in our lives that we regret later or wish we’d handled differently. When you’ve been around as long as I have, you’ll learn that in life.”
“I don’t want to be around as long as you, not without my brothers and Ziggy,” I answered angrily.
Auntie Joan nodded as her eyes softened, “Valerie, it’s a terrible, terrible tragedy that’s happened… for all of us. I understand how you feel right now, but your life will go on. You’ll find your new normal just like I’m trying to find mine and now that the boys… what I’m saying is, it’s not easy, it’s never easy. But you will find your smile again in time.”
Banging the knife on the countertop, I turned feeling furious at her comment, “I don’t want my fucking smile, I want my brothers back.”
Auntie Joan looked helplessly at me. A loud knock tamped my anger toward her and my focus turned in the direction of the door. “Flynn Docherty, if that’s you, go the fuck away. You’re not welcome.”
Buster stood and began barking at the door. I huffed loudly, feeling exasperated that Flynn wouldn’t just leave. I grabbed the door handle and I threw the heavy door open wide until it banged against the wall. The sight of him took my breath away. He looked stunning as always, but his face bore the same tear-stained haunted look my mom had worn before she left for Las Vegas.
Without a word he stepped forward and pulled me tightly to his chest. My heart cracked, my throat constricting with emotions too powerful to place. Flynn’s warm body leaned into mine. Mine eventually responded by sagging at the physical comfort he offered. I hadn’t been able to accept anyone touching me until Flynn held me in his arms.
I vaguely heard Auntie Joan take Buster’s leash and call him out the door then it closed softly, and we were alone.
Once again, I began to sob loudly. Flynn’s shoulders shook as he pulled me tighter against him. His breathing became uneven and I realized he was crying as well. I pushed him back and stared up at him.
“I can’t bear this. I don’t want to need you to do this,” I said as I rubbed my forehead across his chest when I shook my head.
“Sweet Valerie. There is nowhere else I could be right now. Martin had such a big heart, and I know how much he meant to you. If being here helps you in some small way, then it’s the least I can do. He was an amazing person. I just didn’t know what I’d lost until I didn’t have him around anymore.”
Flynn was silent for a moment, and I heard him swallow. “Once I’d moved I figured that I’d blown it with him. I mean I just upped and left, but that’s been my problem all of my life. Someone gets too close I have to let them go before they let me down and do it to me. That way I can cope, and I know exactly where I stand.”
“Martin wasn’t like that, Flynn, once you were his friend you were there for life.” I began crying again and my face was still close to Flynn’s chest. He smelled of Flynn. His strong hands splayed protectively over my back, holding me tightly in place.
“We’ll get through this, Valerie. We’ll help each other.”
I placed my hand on his chest and pushed him away. “No. Martin didn’t want you near me. He told me all about you and how you are with girls.”
“I know. That’s one of the reasons I went with Iria. I had to put you in my past. He hated the thought that I liked you and with your age… we had a huge argument about you, did he tell you?
“He told me you had words.”
Flynn laughed, “Words? Jesus, Valerie, he told me he’d cut my dick off if I went anywhere near you. It was out of respect for him I stayed away after we’d left. I figured with the number I’d left, if you were interested in me, you’d have called. You didn’t.”
“You played with me. Martin told me you went with that girl a few days after you left here. You saw a young, impressionable girl, and you toyed with my feelings. I hate you for that.”
“Good, keep it that way. I’m not good for you, Valerie, but that may not stop me from wanting you. You’re sweet sixteen and fooling around with you would be a terrible idea.”
“See? You’re doing it again. Don’t mess with my mind, Flynn. There’s nothing left to mess with. There’s nothing you could say or do now that would make me want to be romantically involved with you. Out. Now. I want you out of here.”
“Don’t worry I’m going but I’ll be in the driveway. I’m not going anywhere as long as you need me. I can do that much for Martin at least.”
Chapter 13 ~ Visitors
Slamming the door behind Flynn, I stood shaking with my hands on my hips staring at it. How dare he show up here and do that to me! I banged and crashed my way around the kitchen in frustration, too mad to cry anymore. I began making the toast I didn’t want to eat, but knew I had to if my stomach was going to feel any better. The toaster popped just as Auntie Joan opened the kitchen door.
“This Iowa weather… I can’t figure it out; one day it’s sunny, the next it’s frosty out there again.”
We heard the bus engine start and rev up outside. It began to pull away. “I think Flynn’s leaving, Valerie.”
“Good. At least he took my advice,” I said but my heart felt heavy. I was hurt that he hadn’t stayed and fought for me desp
ite what I’d said. I didn’t know what I wanted at that point. The pain of losing my brothers and Ziggy was incredibly hard to bear. All my defenses were completely broken down. I was heartbroken. Flynn skipping out again was no more than I’d expected. There were too many overwhelming thoughts to think about without him confusing me further, but I was still inconsolable after he left. God alone knows how long I sat staring at the wall between crying bouts.
Streaks of light started to come through the plantation shutters in the kitchen, and I realized Auntie Joan and I had sat there all night. We hadn’t spoken much. Our minds were locked in the grief we both felt. I glanced at the kitchen door, and the thought of Martin and Adam never walking through it again set off another bout of crying. Auntie Joan joined in, but I wasn’t sure we were crying for the same people. She had new people to grieve for, and she hadn’t had a chance to grieve properly for her husband.
Hearing the sound of a car coming up the driveway I pushed up off my chair to look out of the window. It was two of Martin’s friends from high school, Matthew and Ryan. They’d always been close, and Martin had invited them along on the trip with us. Neither could come due to work commitments.
Auntie Joan opened the door, and two ashen faces stared in at us. Ryan let his tears run down his face unashamed while Matthew looked choked and cleared his throat. “We had to come…”
“Come inside,” I said in a small voice.
Ryan swept past Auntie Joan and hugged me tightly.
“I’m so sorry, Valerie. They were…” His voice broke, and he cried openly into my shoulder.
I found myself rubbing his back, comforting him when it was my loss. Then I realized they weren’t exclusively my losses. Lots of people loved Martin and Adam. Lots of people loved Ziggy.
The boys were a welcome distraction for us as it turned out. After paying their respects, they talked with affection about funny things that had happened in the past, and in a strange way it had brought me closer to my brothers. Having people around who knew them and remembered stories from their childhood was comforting. We laughed and cried together and by the time they left, I had a sense of Martin and Adam near me again, even though that wasn’t possible. All I had were memories.
Another vehicle came up the driveway just after the boys left. It was loud and heavy. Auntie Joan poked her head up and peeked through the blinds. “Who’s this? It’s a huge recreational vehicle.” The RV ground to a halt across from the house but no one got out of it.
My aunt pulled on some boots and called Buster from his basket. Grabbing dad’s wax-proof jacket she headed out to see who it was. I watched from the window as she walked over to the door and knocked.
When the door swung open, Flynn stood in the doorway and adrenaline flooded my body because he had come back. My mind was in disarray at the emotions running through it, but I know I felt elated and relieved that he hadn’t just disappeared again. I watched them talking for a few minutes, then Auntie Joan stepped back as he went inside and pulled the door closed. She turned and headed back toward the house, and I felt oddly impressed that he’d come back.
Cold morning air wafted into the kitchen when she opened the door, and she bustled around taking her things off again.
“His bus had to go. His band tour is finished so the bus had to go back because it’s used for other bands apparently. He’s rented that RV. There’s some guy in there with him, and Flynn said he’s got no commitments for at least two weeks,” her face softened as she read my confused expression.
“He’s here for you if you want to talk, Valerie, but he says he’s here for all the family and is ready to do whatever needs to be done. He told me he’ll make the arrangements for whatever we need.”
Mr. Big Shot Rock Star. After our previous conversation, I’d wondered whether it was guilt that had brought him back. From everything Martin had said, I’d thought of Flynn as a self-centered person. As far as I knew he’d always taken what he wanted from people, when he wanted. Once I had that thought I wondered if he had some ulterior motive for coming. If so, I had to figure out what it was.
Sometime around one in the morning I headed upstairs. Mom and Dad hadn’t called, and I was feeling pretty angry and deserted by them. It felt like I was an afterthought to them, even though deep down I knew that it wasn’t. None of us were thinking straight; none of us knew what to do. None of us were coping with the impact the boys’ deaths were having on us.
OoOoO
Sleep didn’t come easy that night and knowing that Flynn was sleeping a few feet from the house was even more unsettling. Buster began to whimper at my door, so I rolled out of bed and pulled on my robe. I padded downstairs and into the kitchen. Opening the door, I saw Flynn standing outside his RV, the inside light shining out into the darkness and casting a long shadow of him in my direction. He was talking on his phone. It was the dead of night and he was out there in the dark talking on his phone.
Buster barked and ran over to him, and my heart ached in my chest. The last thing I wanted was another angry conversation with Flynn. He glanced up and pulled his phone from his ear. He held it mid-air and stared over at me. Placing the phone back to his ear, I heard, “I’ll call you back,” before he ended his call and shoved his cell into his left jacket pocket. Flynn started to walk toward me, and I was rooted to the spot. I was tired and angry and sad. There was no fight left in me that night.
“Hey, babe. How are you holding up?” His voice was soft, and he made no attempt to touch me. I noted how hard he was pushing his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, and wondered if it was because he knew I’d erupt if he had reached out for me.
I hugged myself because the sympathy in his voice drew me towards him. One sentence and I’d wanted him to hold me again. I wasn’t sure if that was because I just needed someone to hold me or whether it was because it was him. Tears sprang to my eyes again. It took nothing to set me off on another wave of sorrow. Instantly, his arms curled around my back hugging me tightly, and he cried with me again. It was at that point I realized that Martin’s death had truly affected him.
There were no words to describe how I was feeling. I needed what Flynn offered me, even though I knew Martin would have hated what we were doing. I began to shake violently in shock again and he wrapped his arm around me.
“Come on babe, let’s get you inside,” Flynn coaxed softly.
“I can’t…”
“It’s okay, Lee’s inside. We won’t be alone. It’s too cold out here for you. Come inside.”
Reluctantly, I climbed the stairs and entered the cabin of the RV. A spacious seating area with two plush, soft velvet sofas made the space comfortable.
“Sit. Let me get you a hot drink.”
Flynn strode over to a small kitchen area and lifted the coffee pot sitting on the hot plate.
“No cream, right?”
I was surprised he’d remembered such a small thing about me after six months.
Flynn handed me the mug of steaming hot coffee, and I cupped my hands around it.
“Ziggy was my boyfriend,” I whispered and started to cry again.
“The other kid with them? Shit, Valerie. I’m so sorry sweetheart.”
“I was flying to meet them. I should have been there. I should have been in that boat with them,” I sobbed between shaky breaths.
Flynn huffed loudly and leaned forward on the sofa opposite me.
“I’ll thank God every day that you weren’t, babe.”
“And what do I get to thank him for? You?”
“Maybe one day you will,” he smiled softly and his eyes held my gaze.
“More like I’d be thanking the devil for bringing you back here.”
Flynn exhaled heavily, stood up and ran his hands through his hair looking helpless again. Suddenly the space inside the RV felt cramped.
“I know what you said about Martin, but I think he’d like that I came back to take care of you.”
My eyes ticked over Flynn, even in my grief I
couldn’t fail to notice how stunningly handsome a man he was. The boy in him had gone. He seemed more mature even though it had only been six months since we’d met.
“I doubt that. Both he and Auntie Joan warned me off you.”
“Well, all I can say is both of them knew what it’s like to lust after someone. Trust me once you’ve felt it you recognize it in others.”
My eyes roamed the inside of the RV because I had no idea what to say to that. I’d felt excited when he’d pushed me into my room that one time, but I felt mad about the effect he’d had because I felt the situation was hopeless. I thought about how he’d kissed me, stopping short of a proper passionate kiss. Why had he stopped? Was it because he saw me as a child? Was it because of Martin, like he’d said it was? Or had he been tormenting me for the sake of it?
“So you came back because I’m sixteen, and you see me as some kind of a challenge now?”
His expression was angry, “Is that what you think? God, no, Valerie. I’m here because I care about you. I’m here because I loved Martin like a brother. I’m also here because I feel if there is anything I can do to ease everyone’s grief, no matter how little that may be, then it’s the only place I want to be,” the tone of his voice was angry, and I knew I’d offended him.
“And what about what we want? What about what I want?”
“What do you want, Valerie?”
“I wanted you to leave, and here you are, still here,” I gestured weakly with my hand toward him.
“That was your hurt talking, babe. If I’d shown my face and disappeared again, you’d have been even more upset. Am I right?”
He was. I was venting at him because I wanted him there, but at the same time I didn’t want to want him. Ultimately I was just so heartbroken and angry. I sat staring up at him again and tried to think while my eyes searched his face. Stubble had grown on his chin since he’d arrived last night and this made his appearance more rugged. Instead of looking disheveled it had only made him even better looking. He stood and peeled his jacket off his shoulders, folded the front of it together and draped it over the arm of his sofa. His right arm was covered in an intricate tattoo, a new addition to his previously smooth, tanned skin that I’d remembered.
