“Ellie,” Nate implored quietly. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What happened?” She sniffled a little and looked down at her lap, her cheeks pink with shame.
“Peter was making fun of me,” she said softly.
“That’s why you pushed him?” She nodded. “Why didn’t you just tell the teacher? You know better than to push, Ellie.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“I know,” Nate sighed. “Can you tell me what he said?”
“He said…” She sniffled again. “He said I didn’t have a mommy because I was a bad girl and she didn’t want me.” After a moment of shock, Nate stomped on the brake and pulled over to the shoulder, and he twisted awkwardly in his seat to look back at her.
“Look at me, Ellie.” He waited until she met his gaze. “I’ll talk to your teacher and make sure someone tells Peter’s parents what he did, but what’s more important is that you know what he said isn’t true. Mommy always wanted you, baby girl. You’re a very good girl, and Mommy would never have left if she’d had a choice. Sometimes people just… don’t have a choice. Do you understand?”
She was silent for a few moments, digesting his words. Ellie guessed that the only reason he believed she was a good girl was that he didn’t know what had really happened in the car. He didn’t know that it was her fault, and she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. What if he got angry with her and left too? Then she would have no one… So, she gave her father the nod he was waiting for, and when he sighed in relief, she decided to change the subject slightly.
“Daddy?”
“What, honey?”
“I don’t want people to call me Ellie anymore,” she admitted.
“Why?” he asked in surprise.
“It’s a baby’s name, and I’m not a baby anymore.”
“But you’ll always be my baby,” Nate reminded her with gentle smile. Ellie sighed. “Is that really the reason?”
“It’s what Mommy called me… And when someone else calls me that, it makes me think of her. It makes me sad.”
Nate winced sympathetically, his heart breaking a little more for his child. He understood that while she didn’t want to forget her mother, it was hurting her to remember. There was no way he could deny this request.
“Alright, sweetheart. Should we call you Eleanore then?” he asked, chuckling when she made a face. He knew she wasn’t fond of her full name. “How about Lena?”
“Lee-na?” she echoed.
“Sure. That’s a big girl name, and it’s still short.” The little girl nodded and gave him the first smile he’d seen from her that afternoon.
“Yeah. Just Lena.”
“Well, alright, ‘just Lena.’ What do you say we stop for a milkshake on the way home?”
2000 – 2004
Fortunately for Lena, her memories of her time in Chicago weren’t limited to the negative things. In the years that followed their separation, her thoughts drifted almost daily to the boy with the sad, green eyes, and when she was about eight years old, she began to draw them. She sketched them everywhere. Inside the covers of her beloved books, in the margins of her school notebooks, on napkins at restaurants… As she got better at drawing, the eyes gradually became more realistic-looking, until it was almost as though Owen were truly looking at her from behind two holes in her paper.
Those eyes reminded her simultaneously of the scariest time in her life as well as the one bright light in the darkness. They made her feel safe and accepted, reminding her that she was never alone so long as she kept him in her thoughts. Lena looked for those eyes in the face of every boy she met, and although she found a few that were green, they were never his.
The position Nate had taken at Boeing had enabled him to keep a roof over their heads, but after earning his master's degree, he’d been ready to move on to greater challenges. When Lena was ten, Nate left Boeing and started his own company, Gardner Components, which produced and sold aircraft components to the larger aerospace corporations. He had a keen head for business, and aeronautics had been his passion from an early age.
The business took off quickly, which meant that Nate had the opportunity to buy a bigger house and move Lena to a private school when she started middle school. Although she appeared to handle the transitions well, she still struggled privately with the past, and by the time she was twelve, her survivor’s guilt had evolved into full-blown depression.
Thanks to the onset of puberty and changing hormones, it became infinitely more difficult to keep up the appearance of normalcy. Because of her guilt, Lena had always pushed herself to be on her best behavior. Her grades were always impeccable, and she went out of her way to help her father as much as possible. Much of her existence was spent doing whatever she could to avoid being a burden to Nate or anyone else.
When Nate's work eventually took him away from her for longer periods of time, Lena never complained or admitted that she felt lonely being left with their staff. She had no doubt whatsoever that he loved her and did his best to be both her mother and her father. Although he still made time for her, she definitely felt his absence, and it pulled her deeper into her depression. She wondered what her life might have been like if Celia had lived, if she’d had two loving parents, if she’d been a better daughter… But these were thoughts that she could never allow herself to share. Her mother’s last words haunted her almost daily, pushing her to be the perfect daughter that Nate deserved.
“Be a good girl for Daddy.”
2004
It was in that frame of mind that Lena met Logan James. Logan’s father, Gregory, had been in the Air Force with Nate, and when Gregory was laid off from his job, Nate was quick to snap him up. Logan was fifteen, but the three years that separated them didn’t seem to matter. They were instant friends.
“Why are you out here all by yourself?” Logan asked one evening as he joined her on the terrace. He and his father had been guests for dinner, which Lena generally enjoyed. She was having a ‘down day,’ however, and she preferred not to pollute the atmosphere with her despondency. Lena gave him a shrug and a weak smile. “Oh, come on, Pipsqueak, that was pathetic. You can do much better than that,” he teased.
Lena laughed in spite of herself as he settled onto the stone wall next to her, both of them swinging their legs over the side. The inky blackness of night had swallowed up the features of her expansive backyard, but the sounds of the insects and animals were soothing.
“That’s better, but it still needs work. Everything okay?”
“I guess. Just one of those days. Nothing to worry about.”
“I get it,” Logan nodded. “You want me to leave you alone?”
“No, you can stay,” she replied softly. They sat in silence for a few moments as he watched her in the low light that shone through the French doors.
“Want some advice?”
“Sure,” Lena sighed. If it had been anyone else, she’d have declined, but Logan was never patronizing or condescending. She liked that, in spite of the fact that she was only twelve, Logan didn’t treat her like a little kid.
“You might feel less stressed out if you let go once in a while.”
“Who said I’m stressed?” His brown eyes rolled in her direction, and she looked away guiltily. “What do you mean ‘let go?’”
“Well… for instance, the world won’t end if you drop one of your extracurriculars… or if your GPA drops below 3.9…”
“It’s never been 3.9,” Lena huffed indignantly. Logan’s smile warmed her a little as he laughed.
“See? Maintaining a 4.0 since kindergarten isn’t healthy!” he teased, elbowing her playfully. “Why are you so hard on yourself?”
“I think after everything I’ve put my dad through, he deserves to have a kid who doesn’t give him more things to worry about.” Lena spoke without looking at him, but she could feel him watching her.
“Were you that bad as a little kid or something? I mean, I haven’t known you long, but you’re basically a golde
n child. You’re a parent’s wet dream. What did you ‘put him through’ that was so bad?” Lena's mouth tightened as she tried to keep a lid on her emotions, but Logan wasn’t fooled. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Hey… You can talk to me. I won’t judge you, and I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
“I… I just meant that being a single dad is hard enough. He doesn’t need to have a bratty kid on top of everything else.” Logan scrutinized her, suspecting that there was far more to it than that.
“Yes, being a single parent would be hard for anyone, but… it’s not like you caused the car accident that put him in that position, Lena. I’m sure that, given the choice, he would much rather be a single dad than not have you at all.”
A sob rose up in her throat, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Logan caught it on the tip of his finger and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Lena allowed him to pull her into a hug, burying her face against his shoulder. For several long minutes, he merely held her and let her cry herself out onto his t-shirt, feeling a bit out of his depth. He’d grown up without a mother for most of his life as well, but his mother had left of her own free will. Logan didn’t have many positive memories of her, and he’d long since made his peace with her absence. Grief over the death of a parent was far more complicated, and each of Lena's sobs caused a little twinge in his chest.
Logan had only known Lena for a few months, but he’d taken to her immediately. It had surprised him, considering the difference in their ages and in their interests, but something about their personalities seemed to fit well together. He could tell that she was a genuinely good person, and he felt a natural urge to protect her, even if the threat came from her own demons.
“I can understand if you’d rather not talk to me about whatever’s bothering you, but… please talk to someone. I’m sure you have your reasons for hiding it so well, but you’re not doing yourself any favors here, Squeak.”
“You can use my real name, you know. Just because I’m short doesn’t mean you have to point it out all the time,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. Logan recognized her desire to move on and gave in reluctantly.
“Pipsqueak, you’re five foot nothing and eighty pounds soaking wet. I’m sure I could think of worse nicknames…” He pretended to think about it and chortled when she smacked the back of his head. “Think I felt a breeze on my neck. Did you feel that?” She slapped him much harder the second time, but he still laughed. “Now, that was better.”
Logan attempted to lock her head into place beneath his bicep, and Lena squealed and struggled, pinching his side until he let go.
“Time to go, Logan. Stop harassing the poor kid and say goodnight,” Gregory interrupted from the doorway.
They laughed and stood up to head back inside, shoving one another playfully. It wasn’t the first time Logan James had pulled her out of her melancholy, and it wouldn’t be the last.
2007
“You have ommatophilia. I Googled it,” Logan informed her, peering over her shoulder at the latest set of enigmatic, green eyes she’d drawn in her sketchbook.
“What’s that?”
“Obsessive love of eyes.”
“Do not.”
“Have you seen your room? There are creepy, sad eyes drawn on just about everything.”
“They’re not creepy.”
“They’re a little creepy.”
“Did you have something important to say, or are you just here to piss me off?” Lena asked dryly, continuing to shade Owen’s green eyes. Logan pressed a hand to his chest and gasped as though scandalized.
“Do you kiss your father with that mouth?”
“Do you catch any flies with yours?”
Logan laughed loudly, drawing the attention of a few seniors occupying a lunch table nearby. One of his football teammates took the opportunity to check out Lena's ass, and Logan glared at him pointedly before taking his usual seat next to her. Being several grades apart meant that lunch was usually the only time he saw her during the day, other than the beginning and end of school since they carpooled. He swiped a couple of her French fries, noting how little she’d eaten.
“When are you going to learn that there are supposed to be three meals each day and not two?”
“When you learn not to talk with food in your mouth,” Lena retorted. Logan gulped the French fry down and rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
“I do actually have something to talk to you about. You got time to hang out after school today?” He gave her an easy smile when she looked up at him curiously, and it grew a little wider when she nodded.
“Everything okay?”
“Of course. Or at least it will be when Hayes learns to keep his eyes in his head where they belong,” Logan growled, scowling at his teammate who apparently hadn’t received the message the first time. Lena glanced briefly behind her but kept her face impassive.
“Karen isn’t going to be pissed you’re hanging out with me instead of her today?” she teased, always enjoying an opportunity to poke fun at his girlfriends.
“It’s Kacey--”
“Whatever.”
“--And no, she has cheerleading today.”
“Of course, she does.”
The three-year age difference between Logan and Lena was less of a factor now, but their relationship had remained platonic. Logan might not have minded making a change in that regard, but he knew the timing would’ve made it impossible. Lena regarded Logan as her best friend, and she often wondered if he had any idea how many times he’d saved her from herself. Continuing her campaign for the title of ‘perfect daughter,’ Lena tended to spend most of her time focused on school and the various extracurricular activities she’d lined up for the sake of her future college applications. Whenever the pressure started to get to her, she could always count on Logan to keep her sane.
Throughout the remainder of the school day, Lena was somewhat preoccupied with whatever Logan wanted to tell her, and she decided to distract herself by working on her latest chapter. She’d discovered a true passion for writing, which meant that the boy with the sad, green eyes was no longer a mere memory. She’d written his story a dozen times, imagining where his life might have taken him after they’d been separated. Owen had become her favorite hero, and she was always dreaming up new ways to challenge him.
Lena often tried to picture what he might look like now, but it was a difficult sort of foresight. It was easy to look at someone’s baby pictures and recognize the traits that carried through from childhood to adulthood. However, it was nearly impossible to reverse that process, to look at a child and determine what parts of them would show up in their adult features. While she might have based predictions of her own appearance on old photographs she had of her mother, Lena had no idea what Owen’s biological parents might have looked like or whether he might favor them.
Eventually, she’d stopped looking for him in the faces of sandy-haired boys. She’d grown tired of being disappointed, and for all she knew, he was thousands of miles away. He’d been from Chicago, after all, which was halfway across the country. Lena had learned to let go of the hope that she might see him again someday, but Owen was still her muse. Her notebooks and dreams were full of him.
Logan met her by his car at the end of the day and drove them to a small diner they had found the year before. It was quaint and rarely busy, and the staff treated everyone like family. Logan pulled out her chair, and Lena gave him an odd look.
“What was that for?”
“Just being a gentleman, Gardner. You know, manners? You should try it sometime,” he teased, taking the seat across from her.
“You’re the last person who should be giving lessons in etiquette,” Lena snorted. They ordered their usual snack since it was a bit too early for dinner, but Logan surprised her by adding a couple of milkshakes to their order. In their three years of friendship, milkshakes had become the trademark of a serious discussion. Once the waitress had walked away, Lena gazed at Logan as thou
gh sizing him up. “So, what is it that you want to talk about? Milkshakes mean business.”
“Yeah… Look, you’re not gonna like it. I know that, but I… I need you to support me anyway. Can you do that?”
“Of course,” she said immediately, surprised that he would even feel the need to make such a request. “Logan, you’re my best friend. I’ll always support you no matter what. You know that.”
He nodded but still looked nervous, and when the waitress returned briefly with their shakes, he pushed Lena's toward her encouragingly. Chocolate was always the weapon of choice when giving a woman bad news. She took a sip and looked at him expectantly.
“Well, you know I’m graduating in a couple of months… And my dad is always on my case about my plans for next year…”
“And?”
“I… I joined the Army. I report for basic training in June.”
Complete and utter silence hovered over their table, and Lena appeared to be in shock. She didn’t speak for several long moments, and when she did, her voice was much quieter than Logan had expected.
“You did what?” Her blue eyes were fixed on him and shining with unshed tears.
“I joined the Army, Squeak. It just felt like the right path for me.”
“You’re leaving.” It was a statement rather than a question, and Logan felt a surge of guilt in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“But you are,” she insisted, growing steadily louder. “They’ll send you away, maybe for years at a time. You could be killed, Logan! What did your father say?” The handful of other patrons swung their necks in her direction, and Logan kept his tone even.
“He’s… proud.”
Lena's mouth hung open a little as she digested that. Of course, Greg would be all for it, she muttered inwardly. Gregory James was the type of man who believed that his best days were behind him and that nearly every single one of them had been a result of his military service. Lena was proud and thankful for her father’s service as well as Greg’s, but the idea of Logan putting himself at risk by enlisting during war time was terrifying.
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