Reclaiming the Sand
Page 97

I’m a dumbass. Forgive me?
Or how about please excuse my chronic case of ruineverythingitis. I’m all better now. Give me another chance?
A knock on the window almost gave me a heart attack. I looked up to see Flynn peering down at me; his head cocked to the side, his brow furrowed.
I rolled down the window.
“Hi,” I said, my mouth dry.
“Are you going to get out the car?” he asked, direct and blunt as always.
I bit down on my lip so I wouldn’t smile and pulled my keys out of the ignition. I climbed out of my car and was almost barreled over by Murphy, who was extremely happy to see me.
“Hiya, boy!” I gasped as he planted his giant paws into the middle of my stomach. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his tail wagged frantically. I scratched behind his ears and he leaned into my hand.
“He missed you,” Flynn said. I looked at him but he wasn’t smiling. His face was blank, not giving anything away.
“Yeah,” was all I could say.
“Why are you here?” he asked, not giving me anytime to get my bearings. I dropped my hand from the top of Murphy’s head.
“To see you,” I told him honestly.
“Why?” he asked, his frown deepening.
“Because I needed to,” I replied, my hands starting to shake.
Flynn didn’t say anything for a long time. Time seemed to freeze as we stood there, neither sure of the other’s intentions.
“I was wrong, Flynn. I was so very wrong. Can we talk?” I asked.
Flynn shook his head. “You hurt me, Ellie. You always hurt me. You need to go,” he said, dropping his head and staring at the ground.
This was usually a clear indicator that I shouldn’t push him. But I couldn’t leave. Not now.
“Please, Flynn. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to talk to you. And then if you want me to leave, I will,” I promised.
Flynn turned around and started walking back to the house. I wasn’t sure if I should follow him. Murphy sat at my feet, looking after Flynn, clearly as confused as I was.
“Come on Murphy. You too, Ellie,” he called back. And then, without bothering to wait for me to catch up, he went into the house.
Murphy and I followed after him.
Flynn was in the kitchen slicing up some banana bread when I walked inside. He handed me a plate, which I took without thinking. “I just made it. Eat,” he said, my mouth watering from the rich homey smell.
“Thanks,” I said, standing awkwardly while Flynn began to scarf down his bread. I wasn’t hungry. My stomach was twisted in knots.
Flynn let the silence hang there, never bothered by quiet the way others were. Under normal circumstances I would allow myself to fall into the ease of it. But this was anything but normal circumstances.
“I’m sorry, Flynn,” I said.
“We say that a lot to each other. You and me. It’s always I’m sorry. I’m tired of being sorry. Why can’t we just be nice to each other so we don’t have to say it all the time?” he asked and I was struck mute by his statement.
Because he was right.
And then he went on and if I had been shocked by his word before, nothing prepared me for what he said next.
“You burned my house down. I knew that already. I knew that after you did it. Reggie told me you had gone to jail because of it. My mom wouldn’t tell me. And I was mad for a long time. I cried a lot after I found out. But then we moved away and I stopped hurting so much. I don’t know if it’s because we weren’t in Wellsburg or if I had started to forgive you. But one day I wasn’t mad at you anymore. And then all I could remember when I thought about you was watching television and eating banana bread and laughing at stupid jokes. I would think of you smiling and it made me happy.”
I sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. His forgiveness, so easily given, humbled me.
“You knew?” I asked softly, clarifying the truth.
Flynn nodded, eating another bite of his banana bread. “I don’t know why you told me that when we were at the beach. And then you stopped talking to me. I didn’t understand. I know I don’t get a lot but I thought we enjoyed being together. You told me you loved me. And then you were gone. I don’t like feeling that way, Ellie. I’m tired of feeling mad and sad and wanting to hit things. Kevin says that good relationships are based on communication. I want to communicate with you. I want us to be happy.” He carried on calmly, not raising his voice. He was rote and monotone as though reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. But I knew every word…every syllable, was absolute.
“I like it when you’re here. I like listening to you play the guitar and try to sing even though you have a horrible voice. I like riding in the car with you, even when you ask me to turn off my music. And I wouldn’t mind, because I’d rather hear you talk than listen to The Cure.” I was crying in earnest now, too overwhelmed to say anything. Flynn watched my face closely and then he slowly reached out and took my hand. He wrapped his hand around mine. It was safe and warm and exactly where I wanted to be.
“I don’t want you to stop talking to me because I hear everything you say. And I like sleeping next to you and holding your hand. It makes my heart beat fast when I touch you. I’ve only ever felt that way with you, Ellie.”
I pushed my plate away and leaned across the table. “I like all those things too and I hate how I’ve been. But I’m messed up, Flynn. I have a lot of issues. And those issues hurt. Not only me but you too. I don’t know how to stop it, but I do know that I want to be with you.”