by L. B. Dunbar
“It’s like you’re telling me I have a great personality.”
“What’s wrong with that? You do have a great personality. You’re funny and typically easygoing. I don’t understand.”
I’m silent a second, not able to explain myself. I don’t understand me either. Having diabetes can sometimes make me moody or crabby, but this is more than a mood swing. I’m just off-balance.
“Do you want me to tell you how sexy you are? How much I think about you? How I can’t sleep because I crave you next to me?”
Actually, yes. Yes, I do want those things, but I shake my head, dismissing the truth. We’ve said I love you, but somehow, it’s not enough. “Don’t humor me.”
“Logan, what am I missing here? Did I do something wrong?”
She’s perfect. This is all me. I need more. Three hours and two hundred miles separating us is too much. I can’t race off to see her on a whim or push away my child just to have a life. I already let my ex-wife do that.
“I need to go.” It isn’t true, but I can’t linger on the phone. I don’t want to prolong the pain. The urge to call and break things off consumed me, and it felt best to rip off the bandage.
“I don’t understand. We love each other,” she says, and it crushes me. After our declaration, we’ve spent the past month telling each other every chance we get. She needs to hear it as much as I do, but it’s more than words. We need to be together.
“I don’t,” I whisper, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose.
“You don’t what?” Her voice hardens through the phone. “You don’t love me?”
My heart shatters in a thousand pieces as I know I’m hurting her, but it’s for the best. This isn’t going anywhere.
Fat chick upstairs hungry to be in my pants. Told her my sausage was more than she could handle.
The comment comes back to me. Not that I remember the night or even Autumn trying to kiss me, but I believe I said what I said to protect myself. I hurt her so she couldn’t hurt me, and that’s my underlying fear. One day, she isn’t going to want this distance anymore either. She’s going to want that baby and a man by her side to raise a child, and I can’t do that from here.
“It’s better this way,” I say. I hear her gasp my name through the phone, but without more to say, I hang up. Turning off my phone, I toss it across my office, where it clatters to the floor after hitting the wall. I spin away from the damaged device and glare at my draft table, staring down at a set of drawings for another building I don’t care about in a town I don’t love anymore.
+ + +
“When can we go back to Lakeside?” Lorna asks me two weeks after that fateful phone call.
“Probably not until summer. Why?” I swallow around the thought. Returning to Lakeside would only be torture, knowing Autumn is nearby. Thankfully, summer is months away. I’ve been worried about Ben as he’s been short with me lately, knowing I broke up with Autumn. Mason already called to chew me out for breaking her heart. He has no idea how much mine is broken as well.
“It was only sex,” I cavalierly told him.
“I don’t believe that for a fucking second, and neither do you. And because it’s Autumn we’re talking about, go fuck yourself.”
Mason had no idea how much I felt I already had. For the first time in my life, I had a woman who really wanted me, and I gave her up.
“I don’t want to wait until summer. I have a three-day weekend coming up. I miss Mila. Don’t you miss Autumn?” Lorna pauses. “She hasn’t been back to see us.”
I didn’t discuss what happened between Autumn and me with Lorna. Whenever she’s asked about seeing Autumn, I simply said Autumn was busy, but Lorna’s sharp, and she’s noticed I haven’t been speaking to Autumn every night. Sometimes Lorna would pop into my room and say hi through the video chat. They even started texting one another although I don’t ask if Lorna’s heard from Autumn or vice versa. They developed their own bond that first and only weekend Autumn came here.
“I miss everyone,” I admit. Even that pain in the ass Mason has been on my mind often lately. I’ve been thinking more and more about his business proposal, arguing with myself that I’m forty, and I can’t turn back the clock to fulfill some drunken dream-statement said in college. This isn’t some let’s-get-the-band-back-together revival. We each have our own lives in separate directions.
Four Points.
Yet two points are closer together, and Zack is struggling as well as I am lately with single parenthood. We should be helping one another like those best friends who live in cul-de-sacs and raise their kids with a village mentality.
“We should go there this weekend,” Lorna says, and I look up from the file I’ve been working on at the kitchen island.
“Lorna, we aren’t going anywhere,” I snap.
“You know, since you broke up with Autumn, you’ve been extra crabby.”
I still, staring at my child over the kitchen island. “Who told you we broke up?”
“Mila. She said her aunt is sad. And you’re sad. And I don’t know why you’d do that. I like Autumn.”
“I like Autumn, too.” I love her, but this is for the best.
“Then I don’t understand. Why did you break up with her?”
“It just . . . wasn’t going to work out.”
Lorna’s quiet for a long moment. “Because of me?”
“No. Why would you say that?”
“Because Bethany Simone said her mother broke up with a man because he didn’t like Bethany.”
“Well, Bethany doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Autumn adores you, and it had nothing to do with you.” My voice gives away my frustration.
“Then it was all you?” My eleven-year-old calls me out.
“Fine. Yes, it was all me.”
“Dad, are you being an extra stupid jerk?”
“Hey,” I snap again at her.
“Autumn says extra stupid jerks don’t see beautiful girls before them, and it sounds like you’re not seeing Autumn.”
I’m quiet for a second, staring at my child, who schooled me and leaves me wondering when she got so wise. I was being stupid and a jerk.
“You need to get Autumn back. I suggest groveling, flowers, and taking us to Lakeside.” Slipping off the stool, my daughter gives me her back and stomps to her room, which is good because I was about to send her there myself.
+ + +
As if the moment with my daughter wasn’t enough, Mason calls a half hour later.
“You need to get your fucking head out of your ass,” he greets me.
“Is it Ben?” My heart races. Did something happen?
“No, it’s Autumn.”
That racing heart chokes me. “What’s wrong?” I lean on the kitchen island to support myself.
“And I didn’t think you had it in you, but you’re a total asshole.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand, not liking his tone or the continued insults.
“You need to man up. Call her. Or better yet, get up here.”
“Fuck off, Mason. Just tell me what happened?” My fingers fist, and I pound on the countertop.
“You happened.” He’s quiet for a second, and I have no better understanding of what he isn’t saying. “It’s your life, too, man. Like I said before, are you living it or just existing in it?”
“What are you even talking about?” He’s really pissing me off, and it’s all the more reason to decline the Four Points idea we had when we thought we were invincible.
“If you don’t show, I’m putting myself on the list.”
My racing heart comes to a halt, knocking the wind out of me. “What list?” I choke around the question, knowing the answer. Autumn moved on.
“The man-up list.” With that, Mason hangs up on me, and I stare at the phone in my hands. Between Lorna’s suggestions and Mason’s cryptic call, I suddenly fear I’ve made the biggest mistake of them all.
35
[A
utumn]
To say I didn’t see the breakup coming would be a lie. Men just do not commit to me, and I took poor consolation in the fact Logan hadn’t cheated on me. I almost wished he had so I could hate him instead of yearning for him like I do. I understood we hadn’t been able to coordinate. Things were crazy here for me, too. I was trying to support Anna and Ben as best I could despite Mason being here, plus I had the café. My sweet spot was headed toward a slower season although the fall colors tour—the final burst of tourism—provides an extra boost before winter sets in and the beach crowd dwindles to nothingness.
I wanted to forgive Logan, but two weeks after the breakup, I didn’t. I’d grown angry, and I had no one to blame but myself. I’d gotten what I expected. Men did not stick with me.
Pouring myself a glass of wine, I lift the glass for a sip but think better of it.
No more wine for you, missy.
A sharp knock comes on my condo door, startling me from my thoughts. As I’m not expecting anyone, it must be a lost delivery person at the wrong address. I’ll be all alone tonight as I am every night. In fact, I’m looking forward to a night alone. I’ve had weeks to get used to the idea, and tonight, I relish it. I’m tired.
A second knock—that’s more like a subtle pounding—forces me forward. Yanking open the door, I freeze at the man on my stoop.
“Logan?” In his hands is a large bouquet of fall flowers.
“Hey.” He hesitantly smiles at me, and I hate how my heart flutters and my belly flips. His damn dimples are on display, and I’m blinded by how good he looks. Instantly, I remind myself this man broke up with me after a whirlwind affair and declarations of I love you. I know better. Nothing lasts forever, especially for me. “May I come in?”
Still holding the door, I actually contemplate whether I should let him enter. I don’t trust myself not to easily give in to whatever he wants. Reminding myself he’s Ben’s best friend, I step aside, wave him forward and then glance outside the open door.
“Where’s Lorna?”
“She’s with Anna and Ben.” He enters my place and stops in the middle of my small living room.
“Is everything okay?” I ask once I’ve closed the door, concerned for his daughter. I’ve been in touch with Lorna but prudently avoid any mention of her father.
“I want to talk.”
Are there any worse words? “We don’t need to do this.” I pause by the overstuffed chair facing my balcony.
“I wanted to see you.”
I don’t believe him although his presence negates my thought. “What do you want?” The question is sharp. My tone harsh.
“Mason called me.”
Crossing my arms, I glance away from him, staring toward the large, glass double doors leading out to my balcony. In the distance is the quiet, calm lake under a hazy fall sky. Mason. I shake my head. He’s almost as meddlesome as Anna.
“He told me there’s a new list.”
“Oh. My God,” I nearly scream, lifting my head to face the ceiling and clench my fists at my side. I cannot believe these clowns.
“There wasn’t a list,” I groan in frustration. “Anna suggested a list. Not me. Not ever. I only wanted one thing, Logan.”
“What?” He steps toward me, but I step back.
“It doesn’t matter.” Lowering my head, I gaze at the floor and draw a circle with my toe on the carpet. I wanted you to love me. More than just saying the words but truly love me.
Nevertheless, I’ve come to realize that something is seriously wrong with me, and perhaps I came on a bit strong because of my desire for a baby. For my phase, as Ben called it. My phase for motherhood and marriage and more.
“Of course, it does.” Logan sighs.
“Go home, Logan. As you said, we’re over.” Summer’s over. The two-week visit is over. The baby-making business is done.
Logan exhales, lowering the flowers he’s been holding at his chest to his side. “I made a mistake.”
“No, I made a mistake,” I state loud and clear, pointing at my chest.
“Don’t say that about us.” His eyes widen.
It’s true, though. I did this. I believed we could be something other than having sex to make a baby for me. Only me.
Logan takes another step closer, but I take another backward, bumping into the chair.
“Marry me.”
“Don’t do this.” Tears instantly well in my eyes. Not this. “Don’t make a mockery of marriage. Don’t turn this into your sausage joke. This I cannot handle.”
“I’m not joking.” His eyes widen even more, and those dark orbs plead with me, but I can’t do this.
“You broke up with me two weeks ago.”
“I was a fool. As I said, I made a mistake. Big mistake. Huge mistake.” He expands his arms, flowers waving in the air, but it’s not enough. There’s no excuse for his behavior that doesn’t point right back at mine. I had a crush on him. I wanted to have sex with him. I wasn’t good enough for him.
“I won’t play into some competition with Mason. There’s no list. You’re free of . . .” Obligation? He was never obligated to me. We made no promises. You can still love someone and not have it move forward into something more. I know. I’ve been in this position numerous times in my life.
“Actually, the list Mason mentioned was called the man-up list, and I’m here to do it.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow around the thick blockage. My arms cross, holding myself together.
“You have nothing to man up over. I’m fine on my own.” I straighten my back.
“But I’m not,” Logan says, lowering his voice. He takes a deep breath and continues. “Remember when you told me that statistic about men and marriage? How men don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone.” He points at himself. “There’s been a void in my life. One I didn’t even see was there until you began to fill it.”
“Logan,” I whisper, shaking my head and facing the floor. My toe digs at the carpet.
“And remember when I asked you why you weren’t married, thinking every person who didn’t ask you must have been a fucking idiot? You said the right man hadn’t found you. But I did. I just . . . I got a little lost on the way here. I’m also a fucking idiot, but I’m—”
“Stop it,” I whisper, tears blinding me.
“I want to be with you. I want you to be with me.”
He takes another step closer to me, and as I’m plastered into the chair at my back, I have nowhere to go. He’s filling my space and clogging my senses. I close my eyes as if that will block him out.
“There was something there,” he whispers, reminding us both of when I got my period, when I went to him convinced I had to be pregnant because I felt so different. That difference had been him. He was the something there, and now he was here, but I’m so confused.
“I’m sorry,” Logan says. “I’m always apologizing to you, and I’ll continue apologizing until I get you back. We aren’t over.”
My lids open, but I can’t look at him. I can’t fall into the trap of falling for him again.
“I’m tired, Autumn. I’m tired of only existing in my life instead of living it.”
My head pops up at his words as I’ve heard Mason saying something similar. Even Ben professes he plans to live out the rest of his days truly living them.
“I’m going into business with Mason.”
“What?” I blink.
“I haven’t been happy for a while now. When we started, I knew I’d been missing out on something more in my life, but I just didn’t know what it was. That more is here, with you, with the guys. Then everything came crashing in at once. Ben’s condition. Chloe leaving. And Lorna. My poor baby girl is so unhappy, too.”
My chest aches when I think of Lorna. She misses her mother and doesn’t understand how her mom could leave her behind. She’s mentioned that Logan’s been crabby and working hard. She’s lonely. And I never want to hear the name of Bethany Simone again.
Words I’ve always wanted to hear fall far too freely from him, and I want to believe him, but I can’t. This man broke my heart only weeks ago.
Logan bitterly chuckles when I don’t respond to him. “Lorna told me I was an extra stupid jerk. Extra stupid jerks don’t see the beautiful girl before them, and she’s right. I blinked for a moment and lost sight of what I had, what I want most. Grovel, she said. Flowers.” He lifts the bouquet, still held in his hand. “And go to Lakeside.”
I glance off toward the balcony glass doors, chewing at my lips.
“I’m going one better. Lorna and I are moving to Lakeside.”
“What?” Glancing back at him, I can’t believe what he said.
“And I’m going to marry you because, like Mason said, everything I want is right here.” He reaches for me, brushing my hair over my ear before cupping the back of my neck. He leans his forehead to mine and drops his hand to touch mine.
“And in here.” He places my hand over his heart which races under this shirt.
“And here.” He lifts my hand once more to kiss my palm. “You hold me in the palm of your hand. You hold my heart. And I’m going to carry yours. You’ll see.” Logan leans forward and kisses me so softly, so sweet. It’s quick and over before I know what’s happened, and I’m left still standing by the chair when I hear my front door click shut, and the flowers lay on the seat of the chair at my back.
+ + +
The following morning, Crossroads is as busy as I expected. It’s a beautiful fall day with lingering warm temperatures. The town will be buzzing with people soaking up one more weekend before out-of-towners permanently leave their summer residence and year-rounders settle into the quieter pulse of our small community. When the day finally comes to an end for me, I find Ben outside the back door of the café with two bikes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, chuckling as Ben and I haven’t ridden bikes together since we were little kids.