The Single Game

by Amanda Black

  As soon as we got back to my house I started browning the meat for the sauce and boiling a huge pot of water for the noodles.

  “Is there something I can do to help?” Logan asked as I was preheating the oven for the garlic bread.

  “Well, is there anything you’re good at in the kitchen?” I didn’t mean it to be as suggestive as it sounded, but with the way our minds worked around each other lately he was bound to take it that way.

  “I don’t know. You haven’t let me find that out yet,” he purred, backing me up against the counter. “But I’d be happy to figure it out any time you like.” He leaned over and kissed the base of my neck, sending shivers all the way down my spine.

  “Don’t start something we can’t finish. I’ll end up burning dinner and Dad will be cranky. Then Mom will come home to no food and a cranky husband.”

  “Okay, I’ll be good,” he sighed, thinking for a moment before adding, “My mom always makes me cut up the vegetables for different things she makes.”

  “Then I’ll have you start the salad, how does that sound?”

  “Lead the way,” he smiled.

  Since I had limited counter space while I was cooking, I sat him down at the kitchen table with a cutting board and a knife.

  “Here, work on this cucumber and green pepper, and when that’s done I’ll have you cut up a tomato. When you’re done with each one you can throw them in this big bowl, and we’ll mix in the lettuce at the end.”

  “Sure thing, boss lady,” he said, saluting me and throwing me a wink. I laughed and gave him my own one-finger salute before returning to my sauce.

  We worked together like that for a while, talking comfortably about school and our friends. We both agreed that it might be fun to have a couple’s night soon so we could all hang out, and Logan suggested Devon’s basement.

  “You know, he’s got that awesome rec room. We could watch a movie or play some games.”

  “That sounds fun, but don’t you think they’d want to go out? Like into the Cities or something?”

  “Well, I’m sure they would, but Devon hardly ever has any cash, and I know it embarrasses him whenever Zoe pays.”

  “So not only can he not get a car or a job, but he doesn’t get an allowance, either?”

  “Exactly,” he frowned. “His parents will buy him just about anything he asks for, which is how he got that awesome rec room to begin with and the home gym we use when we work out, but they don’t like to let him out of their sight if they can help it.”

  “Man, what is their deal?” I asked, stopping my stirring to take a quick taste.

  “I don’t know,” Logan sighed, slicing up a ripe tomato. “I think they have this crazy idea that if they are way overprotective, then there’s no way he can ever get hurt.”

  “Uh, have they seen him? I mean, he is their son. The boy is massive! What could ever hurt him?”

  “Well…non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”

  I blinked a few times, allowing what he’d said to sink in completely.

  “Devon has cancer?!” I dropped my spoon on the counter and sat down next to him at the table.

  “He did…but not anymore.”

  I reached out and grabbed his hand. “What happened?”

  I watched as Logan thought back, and I could practically see his eyes clouding over with the pain of the memory.

  “It was near the end of fifth grade, so we must have been around eleven years old. I remember one day after gym class, Devon started having trouble breathing and was wheezing badly, but everyone just thought that he had asthma. So, the doctor gave him an inhaler and told him to take it easy. Then he started losing weight like crazy and not wanting to eat anything. When they finally found out what it was, his parents felt horrible for not catching it sooner.”

  “There’s no way they could have known.”

  “I know, but they’ve always blamed themselves. Anyway, he had to have surgery and chemo. He was all bald and puffy and pasty that summer, too tired to do anything.”

  “God, that’s so hard to picture,” I said, envisioning the brawny young man that I knew now.

  “Tell me about it.” He was quiet for a moment before looking up at me. “I can’t tell you what that was like, thinking that my best friend could die any day. There were days I hated him for it, for scaring me like that. I still feel guilty about it.”

  “I can imagine,” I whispered, reaching up and stroking his cheek. “But they were able to get it all?”

  “Yeah, thank God. He’s made a full recovery. At first he was so frail and weak, but the moment he found out that he was going to make it, it was like someone just flipped a switch. He started forcing himself to build up his strength, exercising and lifting weights. It’s like he thought that the stronger he got, the less chance he had of ever being weak like that again. He was practically obsessed until he started dating Zoe. She’s calmed him down a lot.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “So anyway, all of that has made his parents extremely overprotective. They’ve spent the last seven years completely paranoid that something is going to happen to their little boy, while all he wants to do is forget that it ever happened. Jeez, you should have heard the fights they had about him starting football!” Logan rolled his eyes. “I think they would have covered him in bubble wrap if they could.”

  “I had no idea about any of this. Amy and Zoe haven’t said a word.”

  “Devon doesn’t like to talk about it. Ever. We avoid the subject so much that they probably haven’t even thought to mention it.”

  “Well, I won’t ever bring it up.” I squeezed his hand again. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Of course,” he said, his voice thick and dry from the painful memories. “Now that I can finally talk to you,” he smiled slowly, “I feel like I could tell you anything.”

  “Same here,” I whispered. Well, I felt like I could tell him almost anything. There were still the three little words that kept circling through my mind whenever I was with him. The ones I was terrified to say out loud.

  I love you.

  I leaned over and kissed him softly, letting my body say what my voice would not.

  I love you. I love you. I love you.

  * * *

  “Wow, something smells good,” my dad said as he escorted my mother through the door almost an hour later. As he hung up their jackets, Mom noticed us setting the table.

  “Hello there,” she said with a warm smile. Holding out her hand, she approached us. “You must be Logan.”

  He set down the silverware he was holding and turned to her nervously, taking her hand. “Yes, ma’am—Mrs. Foster.”

  “Maggie will be fine, Logan,” she chuckled. “And you can call my husband Eric.”

  Dad chose that moment to enter the room, so I took the opportunity to jump in. “Dad, this is Logan Black. Logan, this is my dad, if you hadn’t already figured that out.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, sir—uh, Eric.”

  “Same here,” he smiled, shaking Logan’s hand firmly. When he let go, he turned to face me. “So Eden, how long ’til dinner’s on? I was gonna run your mother’s luggage upstairs and change my clothes.”

  “I was just getting ready to start plating, so hurry up.”

  “Back in a flash.” He hurried up the stairs to their room as Mom crossed the kitchen to get a drink, leaving me to assess how traumatized Logan was.

  “You doin’ okay?” I whispered.

  “So far,” he sighed. “I didn’t realize he would be so big.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He just seems really…imposing.”

  “I think you’re actually taller by an inch or two. He had to look up at you.”

  “That can’t be right.”

  “I swear,” I laughed.

  “Then why did I feel so tiny next to him?”

  “Because you’re nervous,” I whispered. I saw my mother hovering near the edge of the kitchen so I changed
the subject. “Logan, would you do me a favor and take this salad out to the dining room for me?”

  “Sure,” he replied, happy to have something to do.

  I went to Mom and gave her a hug. “How was your trip?” I asked, kissing her on the cheek as I pulled away.

  “Oh, more of the same, sweetie.” She peered over my shoulder at Logan through the doorway. “He’s cute,” she said in a dramatic stage whisper. “I love those glasses. And according to your father, he’s also special?” She raised her eyebrow at me. I peeked toward Logan and nodded quickly in reply before he came back into the room. She would no doubt be expecting more details later.

  Just then my dad returned and we all took our seats around the dining room table. I began dishing out noodles and sauce and asked Mom to pass the garlic bread around.

  “This looks great, Eden,” my dad said as I handed him his plate.

  “Sure does, honey,” my mom added. “So Logan, Eric tells me your father and his father used to work together?”

  “That’s right,” he answered, helping himself to some of the salad as they talked about his father’s practice. She grilled him more than I did on our first date, but she seemed to like what she heard.

  “This is all wonderful,” Logan said after a few minutes, smiling at me.

  “Thank you,” I blushed. “But I can’t take credit for the salad. That looks like some expert chopping there, Logan.”

  “Well, I considered making it my career, but chopping for hire just isn’t as lucrative as I’d hoped. So now it’s only a hobby,” he said sadly, causing me to burst into laughter.

  “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be greatly missed in the salad industry,” I snorted.

  “My God,” Dad sighed, “He’s just as big of a smart-ass as you are, isn’t he?”

  “Of course! Why do you think I like him so much?”

  Both our faces went up in flames, but Dad just shook his head and laughed, leaning over his plate to take a bite. We were all quiet while we ate, enjoying our dinner.

  Thank God the food wasn’t horrible. I was worried that I might have put in too much garlic or not enough salt, but it seemed okay.

  “This is really delicious!” Logan moaned, slurping up a noodle. I watched as he flicked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth to catch a drop of sauce.

  I shook myself out of my lustful daze and smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

  “He’s right, Eden. I think this is your best spaghetti yet.” Wow. High praise from Dad. After a few more minutes of eating, he turned his attention toward our guest. “So tell me, Logan, have you decided where you’re going to school next year?”

  “Nothing official yet, sir—I mean, Eric. There have been a few places I’ve looked into, but I’ll probably end up going to the University of Chicago. Going away to school sounds nice, but I don’t really want to be too far away. If there’s ever an emergency, I’d like to be able to just jump in the car and come home, rather than needing a plane ticket. Three hours is far enough.”

  “That makes sense,” Dad nodded. “That’s the same reason Eden was considering the very same school. Of course, that was before we moved, so I don’t know if she’s changed her mind. She was even closer to it then. But my sister Emma still lives there, so she’d have family right next door.”

  “Really?” Logan shot me a questioning glance. I simply smiled and nodded, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

  Dad continued with his questions, not even noticing our exchange. “Where were some of the other schools you considered?”

  “There was a school down in Florida that I looked into.”

  “Florida? Why so far?”

  “Well, we have family there and we go there once or twice a year, so I figured that it wouldn’t feel quite so far away since I’m familiar with the area.”

  “Hmm,” my dad grunted around a large bite of garlic bread, nodding that he understood. “Do you follow any sports?” he asked after he’d finished swallowing. Mom and I shot a worried look at each other across the table. Dad had reached the big question.

  “Not closely,” Logan replied with a loud gulp. “I keep my eye on the score whenever Chicago is playing, but that’s about it.”

  “Well, at least your priorities are straight,” he nodded. He didn’t care that Logan wasn’t crazy about sports, as long as he wasn’t rooting for the wrong team.

  The conversation continued at a comfortable pace and I was extremely proud of both my parents for making Logan feel welcome. When we were finished with our pie, they excused themselves, heading upstairs to finish unpacking Mom’s luggage and “rest for a while.” I didn’t know who they thought they were fooling.

  Logan offered to help me clear the table, and as we rinsed off the dishes he took that opportunity to talk to me in private.

  “How do you think that went?” he whispered.

  “Pretty good, I think. They seem to like you.”

  When we were finished, he glanced at the clock and sighed. “I suppose I’d better get going.”

  “You can’t stay?”

  “I still have some homework to finish, and I just know my mother is dying for a report on how tonight went.”

  “Okay,” I smiled. “I’ll walk you out.” We grabbed our coats and headed toward the door. “I’m going to walk Logan to his car, Dad,” I called out as I saw him walking down the stairs, trying to tuck his shirt back in quickly.

  “Leaving so soon?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I have some homework to finish. Thank you for having me, sir. It was nice to meet you.”

  “Same here, Logan,” Dad said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m sure I’ll see you around again soon.”

  Logan glanced at me and smiled before looking back at Dad. “I’m sure you will, sir.”

  I followed him out to his car, looking back at the house to make sure that we weren’t being watched. “Thank you for this, Logan. I feel so much better now that you know each other.”

  “I do, too. It’s like it’s more official or something. Is that crazy?”

  “No, not at all. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  He opened up his car door and turned around to look at me. “Now you just have to meet my parents.”

  “Sunday, right?”

  “That’s right,” he smiled. “Still not backing out?”

  “No way. If you can face my parents, I can face yours.”

  He laughed, leaning down to kiss me softly. “Can I call you later?” he whispered against my lips.

  “Of course,” I smiled. “I like hearing your voice before I go to sleep.”

  “Me, too. I just wish you were lying there next to me instead of on the phone. I like having you as close to me as possible for as long as I can.”

  “I feel the same way.” And I love you.

  “I’m sorry, but I really should get going. The faster I get my work done, the faster I can call you.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Get the hell out of here.” I shoved him into his car, making him laugh again. He stopped me from backing away, pulling me to him for another searing kiss.

  “Good-bye for now, beautiful girl.”

  “Bye. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  And I love you so much it hurts!

  I watched as he pulled out of the drive, waving to him before he drove away. I walked slowly back into the house, wondering how the hell I was going to keep from blurting out how I felt when it was obviously much too early for such heavy words. I didn’t want to drive him away and I didn’t want to make him feel like he had to say it back.

  When I got back inside, I hung up my coat and headed for the stairs. I intended to pick up a book to calm my nerves, but Dad intercepted me.

  “Heading upstairs?”

  “Yeah,” I replied, turning around to face him. “Thought I might read or something. Is Mom already asleep?”

  “Yep. She was pretty worn out after her flight.” I knew that wasn’t all she was worn out fr
om and it probably should have grossed me out, but I liked that my parents were still affectionate with each other after so many years and not afraid to show it.

  “Thanks for tonight, Dad. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. He’s a good kid.” I was about to turn back around when he spoke again. “He’s the one, isn’t he?”

  The room was dead silent for a heartbeat. “I think so…but it’s still early,” I answered, feeling my face get hot. I was startled at his question. “How can you tell?”

  “Because he looks at you like you hung the moon, and you look at him the exact same way.” He grew quiet for a moment before adding, “Your mother still looks at me that way. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

  I smiled at the reminder of how much they still loved each other.

  “I should get to bed. ’Night, Dad.”

  “’Night, kiddo.”

  I climbed a few steps before he called up to me one more time. “Does he know yet?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, feeling my heart drop into my stomach. “No,” I said shakily.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s still too early. I don’t want to send him packing.”

  “Well, just because something happened fast doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I was a goner the first time I saw your mother, and I was about your age, too.” He let that sink in before continuing. “Don’t keep that boy waiting too long. Chances are he feels exactly the same and is terrified to let you know.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I headed upstairs feeling stranger than ever, having just received love advice from my father, who only yesterday had been terrified at the mere thought of me dating anyone.

  Parents were weird sometimes.

  Chapter 20

  The rest of the week flew by with tons of flirting and stolen kisses. We didn’t have much alone time since Mom was home in the afternoons and we didn’t want to go to his place until I’d met his parents, but Logan still came in for a while when he could. We would do homework together or watch TV with Mom for a bit before he had to go home for dinner.

  It was becoming downright comfortable.