Tater looked disgusted. “You see the kind of adolescents I have to deal with.”
“How on earth do you manage?” Logan asked, watching the three boys with amusement.
“Oh, that part’s easy. Daddy!”
“You boys better knock it off before I give you something to really get upset about!” Mr. Tucker yelled from the doorway. “Now get your lazy asses up and come carry the food out for your mother like gentlemen.”
They each stopped and glared at Tater before they stood and did exactly as their father said. Once all three had passed with slumped shoulders, Mr. Tucker gave Tater a wink before following behind the boys.
*
“Mrs. Tucker, is there something I can do to help?”
Logan stood in the kitchen doorway watching as Cole’s mom worked over the sink, rinsing and shoving dishes into the dishwasher.
Lunch had gone surprisingly well, much to Logan’s relief. Of course, that was mostly because the boys, Tater, and Mr. Tucker ended up talking the whole time. Keith and Adam showed her pictures of their wives, who were busy planning a baby shower and couldn’t make it to lunch that day. Otherwise, the majority of the Tuckers hadn’t given her presence a second thought.
Mrs. Tucker, however, sat quietly through the entire meal and spoke only when someone complimented the cooking. Logan felt sick with each icy glare of distaste the woman kept throwing at her almost as much as her own mother’s silence all weekend. Cole’s mom made it perfectly clear that Logan wasn’t welcome at their table, and Lo would have left right in the middle of the meal just to escape the discomfort if Cole hadn’t put one of their challenges on the line.
After Mr. Tucker urged Cole, Keith, Adam, and even Tater to help him with an old truck that wasn’t working right, Logan felt almost sick at the realization that she was about to be left all alone with Mrs. Tucker. Cole had been no help, simply giving her a sympathetic look before heading out the back door.
“I’m nearly done with the dishes,” she muttered, glancing at Logan over her shoulder. Almost as if it pained her to say it, she asked, “You ever make a pie?”
Logan’s chest lifted a little. “I used to make them all the time with my momma.”
Mrs. Tucker nodded. She put the last of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and closed it. “You get a bowl out of that cupboard”—she pointed to the one in the corner—“and I’ll get the stuff for the crust.”
Logan did as she was told, and the two of them silently started work on mixing the dough for a pie crust.
“I noticed the sunflower painting on your staircase. I recognized it from the art gallery in town Mrs. Snyder used to run. It was one of my favorites.”
Mrs. Tucker grunted.
“I actually graduated with a degree in art history because of that gallery. I used to go there almost every day after school until she closed it down.”
Nothing.
Logan stopped cutting the butter, flour, and shortening, swung around, and leaned against the counter. “Look, Mrs. Tucker. I know you don’t like me but—”
“It’s not that I don’t like you.” She huffed as she grabbed a bowl full of peaches from the end of the counter. “You just make me nervous.”
“Nervous?”
“What exactly is going on between you and my son?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Surely, she didn’t think they were romantically involved. They could barely stand each other.
“Cole is reckless around you. Growing up, he was always getting into trouble or dangerous situations that I’m almost certain was because of you. Now he’s a grown, responsible young man. The kind of man I always hoped he’d be, and I’m so proud of him for that.
“But with you back now, I’m scared he’s going to go back to being that crazy, reckless boy he was.” Mrs. Tucker put down the peach she was peeling and looked Logan straight in the eye for the first time all afternoon. “I already have to worry about him risking his life every day at work. I don’t need any more anxiety keeping me up at night.”
For the first time, Logan saw a bit of her own mother in Mrs. Tucker. “I didn’t realize you worried about him so much.”
Mrs. Tucker laughed. “How could I not? When he would come home drunk in the middle of the night, thinking I couldn’t hear him stumbling around downstairs? Or when he dislocated his shoulder trying to ride a bull bareback for no reason, according to him?”
Logan remembered that one vividly. Not her best moment. The whole thing had been a joke; she’d never intended for him to actually do it. But once he got the idea, he’d been stubborn.
“Or,” Mrs. Tucker went on, “there was the time when the school nurse called to tell me there was a rumor going around that my youngest boy had chlamydia. That was a day I’ll never forget.”
Logan tried not to laugh and failed. “In my defense, I didn’t say which STD it was, only that he had one.” She stopped, taking a deep breath before turning serious. “I know we can be crazy and do stupid things, especially back then. And I’m sorry. I never realized how hard it must have been to watch helplessly on the side.”
“I know for a fact your mother felt the same way.” Cole’s mom frowned, her eyes drifting to the window above the kitchen sink. Logan followed her gaze, spotting the truck and the four Tucker men bickering with each other around it. Ironically, Tater seemed to be the only one actually working under the hood.
“I’ve just never understood it,” she said, watching her kids. “The relationship between you two. You swore you hated each other. But you were loyal, no matter what happened between you. I’ve been teaching for over thirty years—siblings, best friends—and I’ve never seen anything like the bond you two have. I just wish I knew what it was.”
Logan continued to stare out the window. Cole’s hair was messy, his dress shirt gone, leaving only a white T-shirt that now had about as much grease on it as his hands. He was smiling, not the way he usually did when he was acting cocky or flirtatious. But a real smile that reminded her of the kids they used to be.
“Honestly,” Logan muttered, grinning at the sight of Cole grabbing Keith in a headlock. “I’m not sure we know what it is either.”
When Mrs. Tucker said nothing, Logan turned to find the woman staring at her. Not knowing what else to do, Logan turned her eyes back down to the bowl of pastry dough she was cutting. She silently willed the rush of blood in her cheeks to disappear.
“So,” Mrs. Tucker said after a moment’s silence. “Tell me about the kind of art you like.”
*
Logan could not stop laughing.
She was sitting in the Tuckers’ living room, her strappy heels kicked off, and her feet pulled up under her on the couch. Tater sat next to her on the sofa, bent over, and clutching her stomach as tears of laughter spilled from her eyes. Keith was on her other side. Mr. Tucker sat in a chair, while his wife was poised on the arm, her own arm draped over his shoulders. Adam was in the other chair by himself.
“So, he would walk around naked?” Logan squealed in disbelief. “Like completely naked?”
Mrs. Tucker nodded. “He swore he was going to be like that survivalist on TV. And apparently, that meant walking around the house and yard without a stitch of clothing on. Sure gave the neighbors a good sight.”
The room filled with yet another burst of laughter. It started to ebb after several seconds, only to pick back up the second Cole walked into the living room. He looked around warily. “What’s going on here, Dad? I thought you were coming in to see what was keeping Adam and Keith so long with the beers.”
Mr. Tucker wiped at his eyes. “We got a little distracted. Besides, the truck is a lost cause. I’ll call Darren first thing in the morning to take a look.”
Tater patted the small space on the couch between her and Logan. “Come sit. We were just telling Logan some of our favorite stories about you.”
Cole visibly stiffened, his eyes darting to Logan, who was doing all she could to not laugh. “What have th
ey told you?”
“Not much,” she lied, shaking her head.
Adam nodded. “Yeah, unless you count the bedwetting. Or when me and Keith used to dress you up in Mom’s old clothes and make you look like Dolly Parton.”
“And the time you ate an entire dinosaur cake on your fifth birthday and thought you were dying ’cause it turned your shit blue.” Keith laughed and looked at Logan. “Took us four hours to get him to stop crying.”
“Oooh! What about that song he sang nonstop all summer at Aunt Kayla’s lake cabin?” Tater shouted, and the five of them—even Mr. Tucker, much to Logan’s amusement—burst out in a familiar Britney Spears hit. Logan doubled over, laughing.
“Okay, that’s it,” Cole said, shaking his head. He crossed the room abruptly, grabbing Logan’s hand and hauling her up to her feet. “Sorry, guys, but I promised Logan I’d have her back home soon. So we should get going.”
Her bottom lip stuck out. “Are you sure we can’t wait a little bit longer? We’re having such a wonderful time.”
“I’m sure,” he said, glaring at her. His hand still holding hers, Cole pulled her across the room, yanking her strappy heels up off the floor and dragging her into the hallway.
Logan stopped him short again. “But what about the pie your mom and I made?”
“Don’t worry, hun,” Mrs. Tucker said, getting up from her seat and coming over to them. “I’ll make sure to send a piece over to you. And don’t forget to send me a save the date as soon as the wedding is set.” She opened her arms, wrapping Logan in a warm hug. “You’ll make a beautiful bride.”
Logan smiled, hugging her back. “Thank you, Mrs. Tucker. I had a great time.”
“I told you, call me Suzanne.”
Before Logan could say anything, Cole was hauling her away. “Bye, Suzanne!” she yelled as he dragged her to the Bronco, shaking his head.
They rode in silence for several minutes, Cole unusually quiet. But she didn’t mind. She smiled in the passenger seat, her mind still replaying her afternoon.
It wasn’t until they’d pulled up next to her truck in the church parking lot that she finally spoke. She shifted in her seat, fiddling with the dress that was all wrinkled now, then looked up to see Cole observing her.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just kind of amazed. I didn’t think they’d take to you that well, but somehow you won them over.”
Logan grinned. For reasons she didn’t understand, that statement made her entire body feel light as air. “I liked them, too. And that’s what you get for using your family for a bet.”
“What about when you involved the chief?”
“Whatever. The point is, you couldn’t take it.” She leaned over and poked his chest. “You pulled us out of there, and now you get a big fat R.”
Logan did a little victory dance in the passenger seat of the Bronco. “That means only two letters left, and then you lose.”
He watched her, failing miserably at looking upset. He sighed. “Well, even if it cost me a letter in the process, I’m glad you had a good time.”
“I really did,” she said slowly. “Thanks for the invite. It was definitely better than staying at home alone.”
“You know,” he said, looking down at his hands, “you’re welcome back anytime.”
Logan grinned, imagining another Sunday afternoon with the Tuckers. “I think I’d like that.”
He looked up. “But no more childhood stories. You’ve already got too much dirt on me.”
She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
She grabbed her shoes in hand and slid out of the Bronco before turning back, leaning in through the open door. “I just have one question for you.”
“Yeah?” Cole asked, getting a cocky grin as he leaned across the cab, closer to her.
Logan shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other on the hot pavement. “Did you really have a crush on Velma from Scooby-Doo?”
The cocky grin vanished. He sat back in his seat, his head falling back on the headrest. “I was eight.”
“Still,” she said with a laugh, “didn’t most boys go for Daphne?”
His head snapped up. “Velma was the smart one. I like to think it showed maturity.”
“Uh-huh.” She shut the door and turned, waving over her shoulder. “Bye, Cole.”
“See you later, Lo.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I still can’t believe you forgot to tell me that you spent an entire Sunday afternoon with the Tuckers and lived to tell about it… What about this one?” Carly asked, holding up a long, slim, peach dress. Logan considered it for a second before shaking her head. Her friend frowned and put it back on the rack.
Logan turned to the collection of dresses in front of her, skimming through them. “Henry and Suzanne actually liked me by the end of it. He even lifted the ban at the hardware store.”
“It’s true,” Tater said as she sifted through her own row of brightly colored dresses. “Mom even sent Daddy over with some pie for her that night.” Tater had been there, too, wanting to know if there was any way Logan could help her pick out a dress for prom in a couple weeks—it wasn’t exactly something she could ask her brothers for help with. Logan had been more than happy to accept. “The chief looked so shocked to see us, I thought he was going to pass out.”
Actually, Logan’s dad had been three innings into a baseball game on TV when Mr. Tucker came knocking that night. When the chief saw who was at the door, he scowled at Logan from his recliner in the living room and asked, “What did you do this time?”
“He nearly did pass out when Mr. Tucker invited him to go fishing this Saturday. I can’t even remember the last time I saw Daddy so excited.”
Carly moved to a new rack. “Do you have a specific color in mind, Tater?”
“She looks amazing in green,” Logan offered.
“I don’t really do bright colors. I like simple, but I don’t want it to be boring.”
Carly pulled out a short, black and white dress with a full skirt. “What about this one? It’s short and cute, but the black and white gives it a classic sophistication. And the white will really pop with your tan. I dare anyone to say it looks boring on you.”
Tater’s eyes glittered just looking at it. “Definitely add it to the stack.”
This was why Logan had invited Carly along. Logan had never been the girly type, or terribly good with fashion, which was why she was so lucky to have Carly. Instead of going to the mall or getting her nails done, Logan had always preferred playing in the mud and chasing Cole Tucker around with whatever implement of torture she chose that day. Her lips curled up at the memories.
She’d found herself thinking about Cole a lot lately. Especially in the last week since lunch with him and his family. She looked forward to whatever challenge she chose next, but even more, she anticipated when she’d just see him again. It made absolutely no sense.
Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe the two of them could be friends after all.
“Why are you grinning?” Carly asked, staring at Logan.
“No reason, just thinking about what a perfect night this will be for Tater,” she said, turning to the girl in question. “Who are you going with?”
Tater shrugged. “No date. My best friend, Chelsea, and I decided to go stag together. Figured we’d have more fun that way.”
Carly laughed. “See, now that’s the way to do it. Why didn’t we have the sense to think of something like that?”
Tater winced. “Bad dates?”
“You could say that.” Carly continued looking through more dresses. She pulled out a thin, pale blue one. “What about this color for your bridesmaid dresses, Lo?”
Logan glanced at the dress, her teeth pinching the soft flesh of her cheek. She tried to envision Carly and a few of her sorority sisters in light blue dresses at her wedding, but just like always, she couldn’t picture any of it. Not the bridesmaids, not the colors, not the flowers. Nothing.<
br />
Carly still held up the dress. Logan’s cheeks felt warm, and the more she tried to visualize her wedding, the hotter her skin grew.
She turned to the stack of dresses they’d already picked out for Tater. “Well,” she said, hefting them up and ignoring her best friend’s question, “what do you say we get to the fun part and you start trying some of these bad boys on?”
*
Logan could feel Carly watching her as they stood outside the dress boutique waiting for Tater to pay.
“You want to tell me what was going on back there?” Carly asked quietly.
“What do you mean?” Logan said, adjusting the rolled-up sleeves of her plaid flannel shirt.
“The way you keep changing the subject anytime I mention your wedding.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she said. “I guess I just haven’t really been in the mood to plan anything ever since Jacob told my parents about San Francisco. Momma’s still not talking to me. Daddy’s putting on a brave face for both of us, but I can tell it’s bothering him a little, too. And then between your wedding and the move and the job hunt, the future is just so overwhelming right now.” She conveniently left out the panicky feeling she got any time she so much as thought about the details of her wedding.
“Oh, Lo.” Carly pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Just give them some more time. They’ll come around to it. I’m sure they understand this is what’s best for you right now. And as for the future and the wedding, you’ve got plenty of time to figure all that stuff out. And if you need help with anything, I’m always right here.” Carly patted Logan on the back, and some of the residual stress ebbed, but only slightly.
“I know. Thanks, Carly.”
Tater came out of the small downtown boutique clutching a garment bag. “I love it!” she squealed as she ran to them. “Thank you both so much for helping me with this. You have no idea how much I needed it.”
Logan laughed. “If you’re anything like me, I do.”
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