Devoted to Drew

by Loree Lough

  While they were waiting. The fact that she couldn’t say it was precisely why, in his opinion, she did belong here.

  With Sandra standing there in the open doorway, he couldn’t explain why, but he knew that he loved her. How much more family could you get!

  Sandra joined them. “We haven’t had the pleasure yet,” she said, extending a hand. “It’s good to meet you finally, partner.”

  Then she surprised Logan by taking Bianca’s hand and leading her into their mother’s room. One arm around Bianca’s waist, she said, “Hey, everybody, this is Bianca Wright. Logan’s girlfriend.”

  Every head turned toward her, and one by one, they smiled. Said hello. Told her they were happy to meet her. And Bianca, being Bianca, took it in stride. While they chatted, Nancy waved Logan closer. “Is something wrong with her?” she whispered into his ear.

  “No. She’s perfect.”

  “Then why wait until I’m half-dead to bring her around?”

  “I haven’t known her all that long. And I’ve been busy. And—”

  “Save it,” she teased. “I knew there was something…. Just couldn’t put my finger on it.” Nancy glanced at Bianca, smiling, doling out cookies. “I get it now.” She squeezed his hand. “I get it now.

  “Sandra. Carl.”

  When her husband and daughter looked over, Nancy said, “Take them all outside. I’d like a few minutes alone with Bianca.”

  As they filed from the room, everyone looked shocked, maybe even a little afraid. Everyone except Bianca, that is. Though they’d touched on the subject of friendship, Logan and Bianca hadn’t discussed anything beyond their working relationship. His stupefied silence had led his mom to believe it was more than that. And now, because of Nancy’s condition, Bianca would feel obliged to go along with it. Not an easy feat for a person who had no idea what was about to happen to her.

  He planted his feet, a signal to both women that he intended to stay. Not that he felt they needed a referee. Still, because he’d started this ball rolling…

  “Go,” Bianca said, “we’ll be fine.”

  “She’s right, son. Go. Take your time. Drag the lot of them down to the cafeteria. Have some pie. Eat slowly.” She winked. “Don’t worry. I promise not to die while you’re gone.”

  Logan cringed. “Holy mackerel, Mom. What a thing to say!”

  “Sorry. But I don’t have time to beat around the bush.” She flicked her fingers, effectively dismissing him. “Bring me an ice cream when you come back.”

  He stepped into the hall and handed Sandra two twenty-dollar bills. He told her to treat everyone to something and bring back frozen custard for their mom. And when the elevator doors closed behind them, Logan stood just outside his mother’s door, out of sight but within earshot, just in case.

  “Please,” Nancy said. “Sit. Right here.”

  He heard the side rail drop.

  “Do you love him?”

  He thought he heard a quiet gasp above the beep of the monitors and the hiss of the oxygen machine.

  “Sorry to be so blunt, but as I said, time’s a-wastin’. Although, I suppose I could have put that a bit more delicately.” She laughed softly. “So let me rephrase that. How do you feel about my son?”

  “I—I like him.”

  “Well, of course you do. What’s not to like?” Another quiet laugh. “Has he told you how he feels about you yet?”

  Logan’s heart thundered, and it took every bit of his willpower to stay put.

  “No….”

  “Trust me. I know my boy. He loves you. Don’t look so surprised. Deidre told me all about you. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that he finally found a woman who’s interested in something other than his connections.” She chuckled. “Or his pretty face.”

  Logan held his breath. If the information came from Deidre, there was no telling what his mom had heard about Bianca. Now he had two excuses to call his elderly friend when he left the hospital: to see how she was feeling and find out how the subject of Bianca had come up in the first place.

  “I think it’s admirable the way you moved forward after your husband died,” his mom said. “Raising kids is tough enough, but one with a learning disorder? Alone?”

  “Sandra is doing the same, so you know as well as I do that it can be done.”

  Way to go, Bianca! Logan thought.

  “So,” his mom said, “you invited your mom to move in after your father died?”

  She must have nodded a response, because Nancy continued with “Logan hasn’t had much luck with women, so I’m not surprised that he’s moving slowly.”

  A pause. A long pause.

  “How much do you know about his past?”

  “His publicist put together a very thorough bio,” Bianca said, “and I read every word.”

  “So you know he’s an alcoholic.”

  “I do.”

  “And that doesn’t worry you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re not concerned your little boy will get attached to him, think of him as a dad, and Logan will fall off the wagon?”

  “Believe me, I’ve given that a lot of thought. And yes, it was a big concern…until I admitted all he has overcome in his life. He’s strong, so I don’t believe he’ll backslide.”

  Her admission came as such a relief that Logan wanted to run in there, take her in his arms and tell her how much she’d come to mean to him.

  And then his mom said, “But you know the line… ‘Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.’ And that even he doesn’t know what it might take to drive him over the edge.”

  Silence. Brutal, unbearable, brittle silence. Logan hung his head, bracing himself for Bianca’s reply. Instead, he heard his mom say, “You need to know what you’re dealing with. For your good, for your son’s, for Logan’s sake, too. Because another failed relationship could break him.”

  “Anything is possible, Mrs. Murray.”

  “And yet you love him.”

  Another tiny gasp and then, “I never said… I—I don’t…”

  “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Logan will come clean about his feelings for you, eventually, and when he does, you won’t have to worry about becoming another name on his long list of conquests. Those women were…a smoke screen. My big tough football-playing son hid behind them, biding his time until someone like you came along. I’m only sorry I won’t be around to see you two walk down the—”

  “Mom!” Logan burst into the room. “Do you think maybe you should get some rest before the rest of the gang gets back?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am a little tired.” Nancy reached for Bianca’s hand. “Thank you, dear,” she said, giving it a squeeze. “You did this sick old lady a lot of good.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Bianca glanced at Logan. “I should go, find out how much ice cream Mom gave Drew.”

  He caught her hand as she passed by on her way out of the room and gave it a gentle squeeze. He wanted to say, Thanks. You’re something else. I’m crazy about you. But she was gone before he found his voice.

  “You look tired,” his mom said when he approached the hospital bed.

  “Look who’s talking.”

  “Hush. And do me a favor?”

  “Anything.” He’d walk to hell and back if she asked it of him. “Ice chips? An extra blanket?”

  “Tell that girl you love her.”

  “That’s…” He slid the ugly pink recliner closer and sat down. “That’s your favor?”

  “So it’s true?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

  “You think so….”

  Logan couldn’t imagine a scenario where Bianca would hurt or disappoint him. Couldn’t imagine life without her. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “Then ask her to marry you.”

  “I’ve only known her a couple of months.” He shook his head. “And her entire world revolves around that little boy. Besides, you heard her. She read m
y bio word for word. What makes you think she’d say yes?”

  “You eavesdropped on our entire conversation, so you already know the answer.”

  She grimaced and gripped the blankets so tightly her knuckles turned white.

  “I’ll get a nurse. Must be time for more morphine.”

  “No. I don’t want any more of that. I want to be awake and alert until…”

  They heard the soft ding of the elevator.

  “That’s probably the family. Quick…before they all barge in here, promise me.”

  “Promise what?”

  “Say you’ll marry her. So I can go to my Maker knowing someone will keep you in line.”

  A sob ached in his throat as he said, “Promise.”

  “Promise what?” Sandra wanted to know.

  “She wants more ice chips,” he said, grabbing the cup. “Be right back.”

  In the hallway, he nearly collided with Bianca, who’d just stepped out of the ladies’ room. One look into her big, caring eyes was all it took to loosen the last of his self-control. And when she held out her arms, Logan willingly filled them. The gesture was no guarantee that she felt the same as he did. But a guy could hope.

  And for the first time in many long years, the tough ex-quarterback broke down and bawled like a little boy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  DURING THOSE FIRST weeks after his mother’s funeral, Logan spent more time at Bianca’s house than his own. Then, on Mother’s Day, after making lunch that he jokingly referred to as “my famous J.O. Spice crab cakes,” he spent the rest of the day with his dad. Commendable, Maddy said when he’d left, that he’d shared even that small portion of his first Mother’s Day without Nancy.

  Bianca remembered feeling out of sorts that first Father’s Day after her dad had died. Firsts of any kind were hard: the first Christmas, the first birthday and, the most painful of all, that first anniversary of a loved one’s death. She’d survived all of those, and now Logan had to learn to do the same. And she had to fight her urge to pamper and protect him in the hope of making those firsts more bearable.

  He’d spent most of the month of June jetting back and forth between Baltimore and L.A., and on the few occasions when they did manage to connect, he spent as much time on the phone as off, discussing the secret business venture. Well, he thought it was a secret. Bianca had overheard enough of the one-sided conversations to know he was considering some sort of an acting role. How long, she wondered, before he let her in on the details? She knew this: until he did, she couldn’t risk letting Drew get too attached to him. July brought a series of fierce thunderstorms that canceled Independence Day parades, barbecues and fireworks. But Logan found better ways to celebrate…indoors. And for a reason she couldn’t explain, Bianca went along with it. She could only hope she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of Drew’s life.

  Somehow, Logan talked Drew into visiting the aquarium, on a busy summer Saturday, no less. The success of the outing had been the result of hours of research, during which he’d learned that the buzz and flicker of fluorescent lighting—things the average person doesn’t even notice—upset and distracted some kids on the spectrum. So he bought Drew a pair of yellow earphones. He also gave him a plastic drinking straw and instructed him to tap it against his thigh when sensory overload threatened a meltdown. Amazingly, it worked.

  So in August they took a dinner cruise on the Lady Baltimore and spent one afternoon at the B&O Railroad Museum and another at the Science Center. Drew lost his cool half a dozen times as he learned to cope with the big world outside his realm. And when he did, Logan averted possible injury by picking him up, holding him tight and humming softly until Drew was calm again. If he noticed the sometimes stern stares of people who didn’t understand autism, Logan showed no signs of it. Bianca admired him for that. Admired him, too, because unlike her, Logan had no obligation to the boy at all.

  By mid-September, when he left on yet another trip to California, Bianca more or less accepted that he wasn’t ready to share the details about his hush-hush Hollywood deal. Then, as the month was drawing to a close, the traveling abruptly stopped, and in the weeks that passed, she put it out of her mind.

  Logan invited her and Drew to join him for a drive in the country. The minute she saw the massive sign that read PERCY MOORE ACADEMY, Bianca’s heart pounded with excitement.

  As he walked them through parlors and pantries, dining halls and dens that were slowly being turned into classrooms in the beautiful Georgian mansion, her relief was so overwhelming that she didn’t mind the cold wind or the thick grey clouds. Not only because his enthusiasm was contagious, but also because she realized this was the secret he’d been keeping!

  Bianca stood in the middle of the room that would soon become the cafeteria, where blueprints blanketed a makeshift table. “I can’t believe Deidre kept this to herself all these months.”

  “She probably wouldn’t have,” Logan said, “if she’d been healthy.”

  Deidre’s lengthy bout with pneumonia that began on the day Nancy was rushed to the hospital had scared them all, and when at last their elderly friend rallied, she made the decision to take life easier. Deidre hired Griff to manage the place and hired grandson-in-law Hunter’s contracting company to turn some unused office space on the first floor of her theater into a two-bedroom apartment. Everyone was happy…

  …except for Logan.

  Now that she’d seen the school, Bianca didn’t understand why he seemed so distant. Had he been seeing someone in California, someone who’d broken things off…and broken his heart? But since that theory didn’t jive with things she’d overheard, like “time on the set,” “scripts” and “short-term contract,” she made up her mind that tonight, as soon as Drew and Maddy were upstairs for the night, she’d get the truth out of him, once and for all.

  Bianca and Logan had been alone less than an hour when he turned on the TV.

  Marty had stayed late at the station, as he often did when fierce storms threatened the entire mid-Atlantic region. He was on the screen now, pointing at a huge, ominous-looking orange-and-red swirl and the dime-sized eye that was whirling ever closer to shore. The hurricane was a category 2 storm, packing winds as high as 110 mph. If the storm picked up enough warmth from the Atlantic, it could easily churn out 155-mph gusts.

  “But,” Marty said, “the beast is a couple hours out to sea.”

  It could build steam or fizzle, but that didn’t stop the station from stationing reporters in every resort from Myrtle Beach to Cape May and interviewing the owners of condos, restaurants and Boardwalk shops who were busy placing sandbags and boarding up their windows.

  “If it hits the Chesapeake,” Logan said, his serious tone echoing her mood, “my neighborhood will flood. No doubt about it.”

  She pictured his rambling glass-and-wood contemporary. It sat a mere twenty yards from the Patapsco River, which had a tendency to overflow its banks during heavy rains.

  He stood and started for the door. “I’d better get home. Do what those shopkeepers are doing.” He patted his thigh. “C’mon, Poe. Let’s go.” The dog was beside him before he added, “I need to stow the deck furniture and make sure the boat is tied up.”

  “Why don’t you leave her with me?” Bianca suggested. “She’ll be safer here, and you won’t have to worry she might get into something she shouldn’t.” Besides, she thought, if she’s here, you’ll have to come back for her.

  “Good idea. I have some of her stuff in the car,” he said. “Leash, extra collar, food and treats. Enough to last until I come back for her anyway. Right, Poe?”

  When he went outside, the dog started to follow. Even before the door closed behind him, she changed her mind and sat beside Bianca instead. “Aw, I love you, too,” she said, kissing the top of her head.

  A moment later, Logan returned. “It’s already started,” he said, leaning against the door. “Bet those winds are already up to sixty miles an hour.”

  She joi
ned him in the foyer. “You poor thing—you’re drenched! Let me get you a towel.”

  “No, thanks. Don’t want to waste a minute. I can get into dry clothes when I get home.” He watched as Poe sniffed the puddle at his feet. “Rats. I’m messing up your rug.”

  “It isn’t a problem.” She took a step closer. Would he hug her goodbye?

  A second ticked by, but he didn’t move. Probably just trying to keep her from getting soaked, she told herself.

  “Look. We need to talk. So get the hatches battened down, or whatever it is sailors say, and get back here, safe and sound.”

  “Talk? About what?”

  “It can wait. Just be careful, okay?”

  He nodded. “I’ll call when I’m on my way back.”

  And then he was gone.

  For hours, the wind rattled the windows and shook the doors, and then the lights went out. Thankfully, Drew slept straight through it. If only Logan’s poor dog could do the same. Poe stopped pacing, then whined and flopped at Bianca’s feet.

  “He’ll be okay,” she soothed, though she had no idea how he could work without electricity. Hopefully, he wasn’t outside in this mess, trying to nail plywood to the first-floor windows. Or worse, on a ladder, securing the latticed roof above his deck.

  She dozed in her chair, clutching a pillow to her chest. It was still dark outside when she woke with a stiff neck. No lamplight meant the electricity was still out. Four-fifteen, said her cell phone clock. She scrolled through her calls log, heart pounding when she saw that Logan hadn’t left a message.

  It was nearly noon when Logan finally called to report that the power at his place was still out. “How are you guys?”

  “We’re fine. Even Drew.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “Our power is back on, so if yours is still out, you’re welcome to stay here. I’ll make up the sofa bed in the living room for you.”

  “I might just take you up on that. You’re sure Poe isn’t any trouble?”

  “She’s been wonderful. As a matter of fact, she and Drew are cuddled up side by side on the family room floor, watching cartoons together.”