Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits

by Felicia Watson

  Fuck, seemed to like it well enough… and it’s his fault! Why’d he have to go on about bein’ attracted to me and then… then go an’ take his damn shirt off? Logan pulled into the employee lot and viciously slammed the Ford into park, closing his eyes against that last reflection. But that only made matters worse when the vibrant picture of a half-naked Nick swirled into view, prompting Logan to pull out a red bandana handkerchief and mop the sweat from the back of his neck.

  Logan clocked in, thankful that he was apparently too sick and weary to get hard—unlike his experience on Sunday. His mutinous cock had sprung to life as soon as Nick had started talking about finding Logan attractive. That bastard. He knew exactly what he was doin’… sure did. Didn’t he? Logan tried to blot out the memory of that short but unmistakable pang of disappointment he’d known when Nick had declared that he would never hit on a straight guy—like Logan.

  Diligently unloading a truckload of fall mums, Logan earnestly tried to halt any further recollection of Sunday’s events. Easy enough for that time between Nick’s surprising confession and his own loss of control. That period was pretty much lost under a red haze of fury and frustration.

  But that moment when he had grabbed Zales, oh, that was as clear and persistent as the cartons of burgundy and orange flowers in his hands. Attacked over and over by that phantom sensation, Logan attempted to convince himself that he’d actually meant to throw a punch. But it was a futile effort. There was no blocking out the memory of joy and relief surging through his veins, the pure unadulterated euphoria he’d known when he’d finally given in to his tormenting, demanding, aching need.

  By day’s end, Logan had managed to wrench his focus onto the most important matter as he saw it: how to handle Trudy… and Nick. There was no way he was going to wait until Wednesday to find out what Trudy Gerard knew. And there was no way he was going to let one stupid fucking moment of madness get between him and reclaiming his family.

  He asked for and got a later shift on Tuesday, and he went to bed only after digging out two business cards with the ACC logo on them. He laid the small white rectangles next to his rarely used cell phone; Logan was determined to start the next day with a couple of very important calls. For once in his life, Logan Crane intended to head off trouble before it came his way.

  NICK’S MONDAY did not prove any easier. It had started with him fixing himself a quick breakfast even though he was anything but hungry. The lack of appetite he chalked up to atypical nervousness about his upcoming one-on-one with Trudy. He forced down a few spoonfuls of cornflakes while musing that the source of anxiety was not Trudy, really, but rather one troublesome mechanic—no denying that. After leaving Acken’s shop, Nick had stewed for hours about Logan without reaching a single conclusion.

  On Sunday evening, he had attempted his usual cure of sweating out his troubles, but with every bounce of the basketball on the cracked blacktop of his driveway, a different question had pounded into Nick’s head. What am I gonna do about Logan? Pretend it didn’t happen? Confront him about it? Is that really what’s been his problem all along? Should I tell Trudy?

  That last question had left him tossing and turning Sunday night and had him dumping his barely-touched bowl of cereal down the drain on Monday morning. The bimonthly meeting with his boss was less than an hour away, and he still didn’t know what—if anything—he was going to tell her about that kiss in the garage. To withhold the information from Trudy seemed unethical, yet telling her felt like a betrayal of sorts. Betrayal? Of a guy I barely know? It seemed seven kinds of wrong to Nick that he felt a stronger loyalty to Logan in this matter than he did to the woman who had mentored him for years, but he did.

  Maybe I don’t need to tell her because… because I’m blowing this outta proportion. Maybe he’s just bi…. Could be. Could be that kiss was no big deal to him. Even as that last thought flitted through his brain, part of Nick was already rejecting it. Though he was a mass of confusion about the encounter with Logan, there was one thing of which Nick was certain. That kiss had been a seminal moment for both of them. The dark truth that followed that concession was one Nick had been avoiding all morning. Maybe telling Trudy didn’t appeal to him simply because a full divulgence would surely block any continuation of that tantalizing journey he had glimpsed on Sunday afternoon.

  Why do I care so much? Why has this guy crawled under my skin this way? Shit, in the end am I just like Cheryl, attracted to an abuser just like my mom was? While he packed his briefcase, Nick shook his head at that notion. Six short weeks after meeting Logan, a man he had originally dismissed as an unrepentant wife-beater, Nick now recoiled from branding him as nothing more than just another abuser.

  The sound of his mom shuffling down the hall provided a welcome diversion for Nick. Agnes wandered into the kitchen and pecked her son on the cheek, the dry cough that had been plaguing her for over a week still in evidence. “Good morning.”

  “Morning, Mom. That cold doesn’t seem to be easin’ up any. Maybe Polly should get you to the doctor?”

  “A doctor? For a little summer cold? I don’t feel poorly, an’ Polly said it’s nothin’ to worry ’bout.”

  “Maybe we should let a doctor tell us that.”

  “Huh, that las’ doctor I saw was still in diapers when Polly was nursing at Mercy General.” Agnes picked up the enamel teapot and carried it to the sink while continuing, “If you think some wet-behind-the-ears kid—Nicky!”

  “What?”

  “Did you dump this cereal here?”

  “Yeah, I’m not that hungry this mornin’.”

  “That’s no excuse for wastin’ good food. You know that drives your father crazy.”

  “And I care because…?”

  “Don’t get smart with me. Your dad works hard for the money he brings in and—”

  “Mom, the only thing Dad’s earnin’ these days is nineteen cents an hour stamping out license plates. Anyway, I’m the one who paid for that cereal, and I can waste it if I want to.”

  Agnes’s mouth twisted in annoyance, and she filled the kettle in irritated silence. Nick was left to wonder if his response had brought her back to reality or if she was still lost in some foggy version of life in Kittanning where she needed to worry about Sam Zales’s reaction to some soggy cornflakes. A few minutes later Polly’s arrival released him for the day, and he left them both clucking over the tale of wasted food.

  On the drive to ACC, Nick finally decided that telling Trudy anything without first talking to Logan would be unfair. That decision lightened his mind considerably and allowed him to start the meeting with Trudy with at least an outward air of calm, aided by her starting the discussion with a subject of passionate concern for him.

  “Did you manage to arrange a session with Sheila Palmer last week?”

  “Yes, saw her on Friday afternoon.”

  “How’d that go?”

  Nick pulled Sheila’s file out as he answered, “Surprisingly well. She really opened up to me. It took a bit of work at first, but then the floodgates opened.” Combing his fingers through his hair as he recalled the intense couple of hours with Sheila, Nick flipped through his notes and continued. “Her husband has been emotionally abusive for most of their marriage, going on eighteen years. Classic case—the man was controlling, domineering, withheld affection yet demanded sex at his whim, kept up a constant stream of criticism, you name it.”

  “Any physical abuse?”

  “Lots of threats but no actual incidents. Though he apparently liked to give her gifts and then destroy them in front of her—often violently.”

  “So what was the break point for her?”

  “He bought her a puppy for her birthday last May, and then whenever he was mad at her, he’d tell her he was going to kill it. Two weeks ago he went so far as to hang the little guy up by his collar because Sheila took too long doing the grocery shopping. She came home and found the poor thing crying and choking, ready to pass out.”

  “Oh God
!”

  “I know,” offered Nick, nodding in validation of Trudy’s horror. “Sheila rushed him to the vet—over Dean’s objections, of course. The dog’s okay, by the way. The very next day, as soon as her husband left for work, she packed up and moved in with her cousin. Thank God.” He closed the manila folder but tapped it on the table pensively. “Though I can’t help but wonder….”

  “What?”

  “Why she could do it for a puppy—get away from him, I mean—but not for herself?”

  “I could give you one of my lectures on the psychology of abusive relationships, but I know you already understand all that.” Trudy’s smile took on a weary cast as she shifted in her chair and re-crossed her legs. “I get what you’re really asking, but the deeper answer has to come from Sheila herself. How many sessions per week did you decide on?”

  “I was thinking two, but I also want to get her in Life Skills right away, so we’ll see how much we can fit in without overwhelming her. I’m definitely starting the Finance Module with her. She never handled any of the money in her marriage. Maybe the Career Module too, if I can convince Irene to go slow.”

  Without looking up from the notes she was jotting, Trudy asked, “Speaking of Irene, any word on Tish and The Carlton?”

  A soft sigh of disappointment escaped from Nick’s lips before he answered, “The word was ‘no’—she didn’t get it. But Irene already has her set up with another interview—at Dish.”

  Trudy looked up, her dark eyes alight with curiosity. “Where’s that?”

  “It’s on the South Side. Seventeenth Street. You’ve never been? It’s this kind of… uber-hip Italian pub.”

  “No, I’ve never been.” Trudy patted her neat hairdo, adding, “Uber-hipness not really being my style. Anymore.”

  Nick grinned freely at her quip. “Not exactly mine either—never was. But the pasta is great. Ask Larry about it, I bet he knows the place. I can see Tish fitting in there much better than at The Carlton.”

  Readily accepting Nick’s assessment on both points, Trudy asked, “And Norah? Is she still interested in that Medical Assistant Program?”

  “We talked about it briefly last session, but she still hasn’t even applied for the grant. Maybe she needs another push.”

  “You mean besides your finding the MA program, tracking down the grant, and getting her all of the forms?”

  “Yeah. I know.” Nick’s sigh this time was sadder and more pensive. “I wish she was as interested in finding a better job as she is in finding a new guy.”

  “That order of priorities isn’t too surprising, when you think about it. Underneath all the pain and heartache, she’s still just a twenty-two-year-old girl who hasn’t had much fun in her life. How’s she doing in the automotive module? In fact, how are they all doing?”

  With minimal effort, Nick was able to broach the subject with the appearance of unruffled approval. “It’s going really well. Just one more week after this Thursday, and then the crew is ready for graduation.” Resolutely shelving his private concerns about the instructor, Nick added cheerfully and firmly, “They’ve all come a long way.”

  “Super.” Trudy’s sunniest teasing smile appeared as she asked, “Does that mean you’re willing to say I was right about our volunteer?”

  After only a second of hesitation, Nick was able to answer honestly, “Logan is…. He’s not the man I thought he was when you first told me about him, that’s for sure.”

  “You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that. The progress with him has been painfully slow, but I have high hopes for healing that family. If all goes according to plan, I’m going to start couples counseling with them very soon.”

  Doubts of all kind—professional, ethical, and yes, personal—churned in Nick’s mind. “Are you sure….”

  “What? That Logan is ready? No, but I think he’s very close.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say. Are you absolutely sure that Logan getting back with his wife is… is right…,” Nick hesitated, then finished in a rush, “for everyone concerned?”

  “Nick, what did I tell you about your prejudice? Not every abuser is your father; some men can grow beyond their mistakes—”

  Cutting off her lecture, Nick interrupted, “Don’t they need to get at the mistake before they can get beyond it?”

  “Of course.” Trudy raised a speculative eyebrow at Nick. “Are you intending to give me a recap of the course I taught you in graduate school?”

  “Nooo,” Nick drawled, eyes on the doodle he was scribbling on his pad as he frantically searched for a way to ask without asking.

  “Don’t worry; I’ve been making real progress with Logan of late. His wife was encouraged about my last report… and frankly, so was I.” Nick glanced up to find Trudy wagging a finger at him. “I really hope someday you’ll know the thrill of putting a ‘Humpty Dumpty’ family back together. It can be immensely satisfying.”

  “Okay.” With two short syllables, Nick threw all of his faith behind Trudy’s superior experience and judgment. She’ll figure it out sooner or later. She’s too smart not to see the truth, and then she’ll deal with the… the issue.

  There was no way Nick was going to label Logan being gay as a problem; the only problem was what he was going to do with the knowledge until the eventual revelation. Having already resolved to delay any decision until he talked to the man at the heart of his dilemma, Nick felt that the few days between Monday and Thursday suddenly stretched to eternity.

  LOGAN HIT the off button on his cell phone with a much steadier hand than he’d started the call; Tuesday morning was starting off much better than had Monday. Good—went easier than I could’a hoped. And now… and now… Nick. He diligently punched in the number from the card Nick had given him at their first meeting.

  After two short rings, a familiar voice said, “Nick Zales.”

  “Yeah, hey, Nick.”

  “Logan?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “Why’re you…. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you. First off—thanks for not sayin’ anythin’ to Trudy.”

  “How’d you know? You talked to her?”

  “Yeah… right before I called you.”

  “You’re not stopping therapy, are you? You don’t have to—”

  “No, I ain’t stoppin’ anything except….” Logan took a deep breath and started over. “You know I gotta keep up with that so I can get my daughters back. That’s all that really matters to me.”

  “Okay.”

  It seemed like Nick wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Logan swallowed in an attempt to moisten his parched mouth and said, “That thing… what happened on Sunday? I’m real sorry about it. I don’t know why I did that.”

  “You don’t? ’Cause I’ve got a pretty damn good idea why.”

  “Weren’t you listenin’ to me? Whatever that was, it doesn’t matter. I gotta concentrate on doin’ what I need to do to get my girls back.”

  “What if dealing with that kiss is…. It could be a big part of what you have to do.”

  “No, it ain’t. It’d just get in the way of…. See, Trudy’s gonna arrange for me to talk to Krista and Meghan at her office. I’m gonna do it, Nick. Really talk to them about… about what I did to their mom.”

  Nick’s surprise was evident even through the tiny receiver. “You mean it? Wow, that’s great.”

  “Yeah, I mean it. Me and Trudy just decided. I was tellin’ her about what Cheryl told us and how I don’t want…. I don’t ever want my girls ending up like her. And… I’ve been thinkin’ that you’re right.”

  “That they wanta know?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been tryin’ not to see that for a long time, but….” Logan paused to take a sip of bitter black coffee, trying to wash down other recollections with it. “Anyway, the best part is, Trudy says after I do this, she’ll sign the affidavit and I can get my daughters every week, just me and them. And they can stay overnight, even
.” Logan glanced around at the small apartment, mentally arranging things for the anticipated visits.

  “But Logan, none of that means—”

  “Yes, it does! It ain’t right for us to…. I’m not that way—not really, and I’m never gonna be more than a friend to you. If that ain’t okay with you, then we should end things right here and now.” Logan felt his own words slice into his very gut; he took a deep breath and dragged the blade up to finish the job. “After all, you got that… that Adam fella… and I got Linda.”

  “Okay, I get it.” Nick’s tone was clipped, though it seemed to Logan there was as much sarcasm as frustration in it. “I think I can keep my hands off you—if you’ll return the favor.”

  Ignoring both the implications in that statement and the leap in his heart at the chance to keep seeing Nick, Logan plowed ahead. “I sure was sorry leavin’ you in such a mess with the car.”

  “So you still wanta keep at it?”

  Thinking that he detected suspicion, or perhaps merely surprise, in Nick’s question, Logan confirmed, “Yeah. Don’t you?”

  “Sure, I don’t think I can see that baby through alone. I guess that means I’ll see ya Sunday morning?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there, same as always. But what about Thursday? Ain’t you comin’ to the class?”

  There was a pause on the line as if Nick was considering the matter. “Nah, I’m kinda jammed up at work, and I don’t think you guys need a babysitter anymore. I was gonna come to talk to you, but… but we just did that, right?” Logan was silent as he tried unsuccessfully to warp his disappointment into relief, causing Nick to ask, “You still there?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I was thinkin’ that I better get started trackin’ down those parts for the T-bird. That sounds fine. See ya Sunday.”

  “Sure thing. Good luck with your daughters, Logan. You’re doin’ the right thing; you won’t regret it.”

  Logan hoped Nick was right. He hoped they both were.

  AFTER SPEAKING to Linda and the visitation mediator, Trudy had delayed Logan’s usual session until late Friday afternoon, when she could get Krista and Meghan to her office. Logan walked into the waiting room to the unusual sight of Dr. Gerard sitting on the small couch; she motioned for him to join her. When he did, Trudy started speaking in an undertone, saying, “I’m going to leave you alone with your daughters, Logan, but if you need me for anything, I’ll be right out here.”