“The carbon monoxide poisoning caused temporary renal failure as well as liver and lung issues and although he’s technically recovered and physically fine, chances are there’s lasting changes to his organs that wouldn’t work for Terra. Better to leave them in Deck,” Logan sighs and scrubs his face with his hand. “We get Nova and Javi’s results today. If Javi matches we have to wait a few months because he has to quit smoking first.”
“Do they need your family medical history or anything like that after you do the tissue testing thing?” I ask and lean forward on my elbows. My eyes examine the tiles on the floor instead of looking at my best friend because I hate talking about my family. “I have no idea what potential illnesses would be in my history. I did one of those DNA kits while I was in King’s Rock. It didn’t identify anything too scary or terminal. And I don’t know if genetics help, but I’m such an ethnic milkshake that I can probably match with anyone. Found out I’m thirty percent Japanese, twenty-five percent Native American, five percent African American and thirty-seven percent Irish and 3 percent Swedish.”
“That thirty-seven percent Irish is probably just from hanging out with us so much,” Logan jokes and I finally look up and am comforted by his smiling face. “But seriously, none of that matters for matching. If you wanted to be tested you could be.”
“I got tested while I waited for her to finish dialysis last week,” I confess. “I’m O blood type—universal donor—so that works. Just waiting on tissue-typing results. I get those any day now but wasn’t sure what comes next and if my sketchy background would somehow rule me out.”
Logan snaps his head up and opens his eyes. He stares straight at me, his expression awe and relief. “You would do that for her?”
“Yes, you fucking wombat. I’d do anything for any of you,” I stand up, annoyed he doesn’t know that. “You guys are my family. I’ve always been all-in, even when I was left out. Your sister means as much to me as you do. Maybe more because she’s always tried to be truthful with me.”
Logan stands up too and before I realize what’s happening, he’s hugging me. I’ve known him since I was fourteen years old and we’ve hugged—for real like this—twice. Once when he got out of rehab and once when River was born. Logan’s voice is thick and low. “Love you, brother. And I’ve never wanted to lie to you. Never.”
“Love you too, bro,” I reply and then gently shove him away. “But we both know that’s semantics. You may not have wanted to, but you have been lying haven’t you?”
Logan looks grim again. Jaw tighter than ever. Blue eyes clouded. “Terra told me what you said to her on the way to dialysis. That I was one of the reasons you left for King’s Rock. She wants me to talk to you about it.”
“You obviously don’t want to, or you would have,” I reply and let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve had ample opportunities when you visited me. You’ve never tried to tell me anything, trust me I’ve looked for signs.”
“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to, it’s that I haven’t been allowed to but…” his sentence trails and his blue eyes move to look at the door to the lounge. He looks back at me. “Wanna head across the street and grab some breakfast? I need to talk to you… away from here.”
“Okay.”
We make our way to the front of the fire station and out the door to Dunkin’. It’s open twenty-four hours, thankfully. We order egg sandwiches and extra-large coffees, mine iced, his hot. When we get our order, we walk toward the firehouse. The sun is starting to rise though and the sky is putting on a color show as Logan stops and sits on the lip of the raised, hip high flower beds that border the driveway. “Don’t want anyone in the fire house or in Dunkin’ to hear me so let’s sit out here while we eat.”
I nod and join him. As the puffy clouds start to glow pink and orange and I bite into my sandwich, Logan speaks again. “If you’d been here that weekend my life changed, you would have been right there with the family every step of the way. Hell, you would have probably driven me to the airport.”
I nod, and chew. “I know this. What I don’t know is why I wasn’t given the chance to do that. I would have skipped training and come home.”
“Because Declan said it wouldn’t be fair to saddle you with this lie,” Logan says, his tone tight and heavy, like the words themselves are thick with guilt. “And the family, except for Terra, said he was right. The less people who had to carry this, the better.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about but I want to know even though he’s beginning to scare the hell out of me. “Logan, I would do anything, carry any secret, for any of you.”
He doesn’t react to that or say anything for a long minute. The egg sandwich is in his left hand on his lap. The coffee beside him on the bench and he’s staring off into the horizon. I let him, because I know he’s just finding the words, not ignoring me.
“I didn’t just have some giant epiphany that weekend my friend Bryan died in a drunk driving accident,” Logan says. His voice is low, his eyes keep darting around like he’s worried someone will walk up on us in the middle of this conversation. He pauses. “You know he killed a man, right?”
“Yeah. He was over in Well Beach, drunk, and he hit a guy and they both died. And when you found out, you confessed to the family you had a drinking problem too, and you were scared you’d end up like him, and they sent you to a rehab in Florida,” This was what I was told by Finn when I finally got back from Orono.
He’s shaking his head, no, slowly. His face is so twisted with pain it makes my heart constrict and then he says. “Deck is going to kill me if I tell you what I’m about to tell you so you have to promise me that you will never utter a word about this. To anyone. For any reason. Terra says I can trust you, and I know I can, but I have to say that out loud.”
“Brother, I would never breach your trust. For any reason.”
He takes a deep breath, leaves his half eaten egg sandwich on his lap and scrubs both hands over his face. And then, he looks me right in the eye and starts talking. “I was in the car with Bryan that day. I told him we should drive down to Wells Beach, because there was a great bar there that never cut people off. I knew all the tricks back then. Which bartenders or bars didn’t check IDs, didn’t monitor your consumption, put up with drunken idiots, all of it. He agreed and we drove down there, drinking beers on the way. We played pool and I moved from beer to rum and Coke. He moved to vodka and Red Bulls, which is why I passed out and he didn’t. Apparently, this bar was cool with you getting shitfaced but not sleeping it off at one of their tables, so Bryan dragged my ass to his car, buckled me into the backseat, and decided to drive us home. I woke up in the hospital still drunk with a broken arm and some bruises and cuts. I argued with the doctor for half an hour because I didn’t believe what had happened. Then the police showed up, and I realized it wasn’t some sick joke. Bryan was dead and we’d killed someone.”
The shock of this is so deep my limbs go numb. I put down my sandwich and my coffee and fist my hands, trying to get the feeling back. Holy shit is all I can think and my expression must reflect it because Logan looks absolutely tortured as he turns away. I reach out and grab his shoulder. “You didn’t kill anyone. You weren’t even conscious.”
“My heart doesn’t care. My heart thinks I should have gone to jail since Bryan couldn’t,” Logan replies. “And I even told the Wells Beach cops that, much to my family’s horror. I begged them to arrest me as I sobbed in that hospital bed. The nurse sedated me, and the cops and my parents left my room to talk. When I woke up again, Declan was there with my parents and they explained they’d gotten me into a great facility in Florida. That they’d talked to the family of the guy who died and they’d offered a settlement to keep me out of the situation. Cops were not going to press any kind of charges because I wasn’t conscious, like you said, so I held no responsibility because I hadn’t even put myself in the car.”
“Settlement?”
“They remortgaged the restaurant, ransack
ed their retirement fund and gave the family two-hundred grand in medical and funeral expenses,” Logan explains. “Declan said we had no choice because if the town found out I was with Bryan they’d cancel me and the restaurant and everyone in the family. And you, if you knew.”
I can’t say he’s wrong. I know how cruel Ocean Pines can be. “I would have taken that chance.”
“That’s what Terra kept telling us, but I was in no position, mentally or physically, to fight Declan and my parents so I just let it happen,” Logan says and the guilt on his face as he meets my eye is visceral. I have never felt more empathy for someone in my life.
“I don’t know what to say.” I reply.
“It’s a lot to take in. You don’t have to say anything,” Logan replies and picks up his sandwich. He takes a bite and chews but it’s mechanical and I doubt he even tastes it. I grab my coffee and take a sip. I don’t really taste it either.
I realize his grim expressions, gruff attitude, the way he has become a bit of a hermit who does nothing but work and see River makes sense now. The way, when he used to come to visit me, he never really seemed to fully enjoy our fishing or skiing trips wasn’t because he was struggling to stay sober, it was because he was struggling with guilt. He doesn’t think he deserves to be happy.
“Actually I do have something to say,” I turn to look at him again. “I understand why this still eats at you, and why everyone thought I had to be kept in the dark, but I also think that you’ve done an incredible job at changing your life around, Logan. You save lives for a living. You’re a good dad. You work your ass off to be a better person than most, and you don’t have to keep holding onto the guilt as much as you seem to be.”
He blinks and a sad smile tugs at his mouth. “You sound like Terra.”
“I’m cool with that,” I reply and smile.
Logan exhales, hard, and picks up the rest of his sandwich again, but he just stares at it. “So can we change the subject so I can maybe eat this without wanting to throw up?”
“Aspen moved into the Five Seasons,” I say because I can’t think of anything else.
“Swanky. Abbott’s paying for that I guess?” Logan asks and looks over at me as I nod. He squints his eyes. “Anything happen while you two were roommates? Any old feelings come back?”
“Not one. We’ll never get back together,” I state firmly. “We both moved on a long time ago. In fact she was seeing someone a while ago, but I don’t know who. Do you?”
Logan shakes his head. “I haven’t seen her with anyone. If you’re not interested again, though, why do you care?”
He just trusted me with his biggest secret and I feel like, since I kind of forced him to share it, I should tell him about mine. “Aspen is pregnant. It may or may not be mine.”
Logan’s eyes grow wide and his mouth starts to fall open but he raises a hand and covers it quickly, scrubbing his beard for a second. “Are you fucking serious?”
I nod.
He drops his hand and blinks. A lot. “Jake. When? How?”
“I came out this way to interview for the OP position,” I explain. “I didn’t tell any of you because I didn’t want the pressure of getting you guys all hopeful and excited in case I didn’t get it. I happened to run into her and… we were both lonely, horny, and frustrated with life and… it just happened.”
I can’t tell him the exact truth on this. Yeah, well, I got drunk and decided to use Aspen for a little distraction from the pain of realizing I would never get a real shot at dating your sister.
“What are you going to do?” Logan asked.
“Well, she isn’t ready to find out paternity yet,” I say. “So I’m just trying to wait patiently in purgatory until I find out my fate.”
“Fuck. That sounds like hell,” Logan replies. “Is she really not ready to know or is she just not ready to let you go?”
I shake my head. “She doesn’t have me to release me. We both know I’m not getting back together with her if it is mine. And she doesn’t want me back. She even said I didn’t have to be involved.”
“But you will be,” Logan replies as he takes a sip from his coffee. I nod. “Maybe that’s why she’s scared to find out for sure. Because she’s knows you’ll step up and maybe this other guy won’t.”
“Maybe. But I think she’s just getting through some stuff. She has to tell Abbott and deal with her apartment,” I reply and take a heavy breath. “I don’t know who the other guy is, but if I were her I’d be hoping it was his.”
“Why the hell would you say that?”
“Dude, if it’s mine you know this town, everyone will be whispering about how his granny used to be a stripper and his dad was a foster failure.” I take a sip of my own coffee and then sigh.
“Fuck this town,” Logan says. “This kid would be lucky to have you as a dad. And for the record, I wouldn’t call any firefighter with a medal of valor a failure, Jake. And Aspy… I mean growing up she wasn’t my favorite person but she’s matured. She’s a ball buster and a little eccentric, but she’s also kind and smart and she will be a fantastic mom.”
I ball up the wrapper from my now eaten sandwich and toss it at the trash can a few feet away. I miss.
A few cars start rolling into the parking lot next to the station. The new shift is arriving. Logan and I stand up, I grab my wrapper off the pavement and put it in the trash can. Logan tosses his from the bench and it sails into the can. He starts to make roaring crowd noises as he lifts his hands in victory. I give him the finger.
As we walk back to the firehouse he seems to get serious again. “I fucking hate lupus.”
“We all do.” I give his shoulder a squeeze. “But she’ll be okay. Someone will match.”
He nods. My shift mates start to filter in, yelling greetings at us both and Logan drifts off to strip his bunk and head home. I start my shift.
We actually have a fairly busy morning. A gas leak at one of the restaurants by the pier, a small fire in a backyard—leaves someone tried to burn that got out of control. A cat in a tree. Yeah, we respond to those for Mr. Driftwater who runs an animal rescue partly funded by the town. But despite the grind of a busy day, I feel good because Logan and I have finally cleared the air. The truth was heavy, but knowing that I wasn’t shunned by them, makes me lighter. When the day starts to settle and the calls stop coming in, I play cards with the guys, help the probie cook dinner, make a dent in the new Stephen King novel I’m reading and work out, but I keep checking my phone, hoping the doctor will call with some news. And then he does.
“Hi Jake, it’s Doctor Kelly Biswell from the transplant team at Casco Bay Memorial,” her voice is calm, serene. I don’t know her at all but I instantly take her tone as a bad sign. She’s going to let me down easy. Sorry, Jake but you aren’t a match. You knew it was a long shot.
“Do I want to hear this?” I ask and close my eyes.
“Well, you have some decisions to make,” he replies. “Because you are in fact a pretty solid match for this patient.”
“Are you serious?” I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I’m in shock.
“Yes. Sometimes long shots pay off,” Dr. Biswell tells me. “Now you just have to think about this. Obviously it’s a wonderful thing to donate, but it’s a serious commitment that shouldn’t be taken lightly.”
“I’m donating. It’s decided,” I say and then pause. “If no one else can. She’s got some in-laws being tested. I know she would prefer that.”
Doctor Biswell chuckles at that. “I think when you’re in this young woman’s situation, you aren’t picky. But before you commit we need you to meet with a hospital social worker and they’ll have to approve the match too. Make sure you’re in it for the right reasons, so to speak. Can I send you some information via email?”
“Yeah of course,” I say but I know I’m donating, no matter what. I give her my email and hang up.
Ten minutes later I get all the information and the results. Dr. Biswell has even sched
uled an interview with a social worker for the day after tomorrow. I’m not a big fan of social workers since I spent my childhood being yanked from my home by them, but I will deal with the system one more time if it means I can help Terra. I stand in the hallway outside the kitchen and read all the information the doc sent. Twice. And then I get up and head down the hall to the see the captain. I knock on his open door and he looks up from his desk and smiles. “What’s up, Maverick?”
“I have some questions about our medical leave,” I say and step inside, closing the door behind me.
“Are you sick?” He is instantly concerned, which is nice. I’ve always had a great relationship with Captain D’Amato. He has been in charge since I was a probie and he gave me a glowing recommendation when I applied to King’s Rock. He also called me personally to tell me when the lieutenant’s position opened here.
“No, but I need to have an operation,” I say and he motions for me to sit down in one of the two chairs across from his desk. I sit and explain everything, leaving out Terra’s name because it feels like I should leave it up to Logan to disclose that if he wants.
“You’re the most selfless man I have ever met, Maverick,” Captain D’Amato says and leans back in his chair. As he ponders what I just said, he scratches his salt-n-pepper hair at his right temple, staring absently out the window at the dark sky. “You would have to check with the union, because I think medical days are only for unavoidable medical situations, but I will gladly approve you using vacation days for this.”
I lean forward, putting my elbows on my knees and resting my chin on my clasped hands. “Thank you. I don’t know exactly when it will be scheduled but I’m assuming sooner rather than later. If she needs me. There might be other donors.”
“Okay,” he nods. He gives me a smile but it’s tainted with something that looks like sympathy, which seems weird.
The Fall We Fell: A Small Town Friends-to-Lovers Romance (Ocean Pines Series Book 1) Page 10