The only sound was the crinkle of plastic as Sheila unwrapped a cookie, apparently mulling over Nick’s statement but finally saying, “Okay, but neither did you. You were right about Dean.” She took a bite of biscotti and sipped her coffee before adding, “I think what really upset me was that part of me knew it, too.”
“Okay, let’s explore that for a bit. Why didn’t you let that part of you that knew the truth have her say?”
“Because….” Sheila stopped for another gulp of coffee, then shook her head dismissively, whispering sadly, “I don’t know.”
“I think you do know. Well, that same part of you does. You’re shutting ‘her’ up again. Why do you think that is?”
By now Sheila was tearing up while she stared down at her manicured nails. “I wish I knew.”
“Maybe because it’s a habit?” Nick suggested gently. He sipped his own drink before explaining, “For the last eighteen years, you’ve pretty much had to watch every word you’ve said. You don’t have to do that anymore. In these sessions, you can just say whatever pops into your head. In fact, that’s the very best thing you can do.”
Sheila took a deep breath and sat up straight, avowing, “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”
“Good. Now tell me why you got so upset when I told you Dean’s behavior showed no signs of true reform. Don’t think too hard, just answer.”
In a rush, she said, “I wanted to believe that Dean had changed because then I could go back with him.”
“And that’s so important… why?” Seeing Sheila biting her lip in thought, Nick prompted, “Because you love him, because you miss him, miss your house, your friends—”
“Because then I wouldn’t be stuck… here.”
Nick leaned across his desk, asking softly, “Where’s here?”
Sheila expelled a short, humorless laugh before retorting, “Here is being a forty-year-old woman living off her cousin, with no job, no life. A woman whose only chance for a significant other from now on is going to be her Cavalier King Charles spaniel.”
Even though Nick had been expecting something along the lines of Sheila’s bleak self-assessment, he sat back in surprise at the sheer vehemence of it. “Whoa, whoa. Sheila, don’t you think you’re being kind of rash, and really hard on yourself? You’re judging what the rest of your life, fifty or so years, will be based on the past month? You’ve set up this false dichotomy in your mind: either life with Dean or no life at all. No wonder you’re so stressed.”
Sheila tossed her empty cup in the trash can, asking in a biting tone, “How are you so sure it’s false?”
“Because I see you as you really are, which you can’t do right now. You’ve been blinded by eighteen long years of verbal abuse and control.” Nick waited until he caught his client’s eye before continuing. “When I look at you, I see an attractive, charming, healthy, and well-educated woman with plenty to look forward to. For starters, you’re not going to be living with your cousin forever, if you don’t want to. After all, you’re due for a very lucrative divorce settlement—”
“Maybe.”
“No, certainly. Your husband is a wealthy man. Why do you think he’s trying to placate you by doing that anger management thing? He’s worried about losing half of a considerable estate.”
“I guess,” she sighed. “I’m still not sure I’m going to get enough money to live off for the rest of my life….”
“You don’t want to get a job?”
“Oh yeah,” Sheila snorted, “I’m sure my unused anthropology degree is going to do me a lot of good in one of the worst job markets ever.”
“The money you’ll get in the divorce will give you some time to figure that out, time to build a life—a good life. Your choice isn’t living in fear with Dean or not living at all. You’ve already done the hardest thing of all—leaving him. The rest will fall into place. As long as you’re willing to work at it.”
A sincere smile appeared on Sheila’s face for the first time all morning. “I’m willing if you’re willing.”
Nick winked at her, answering jauntily, “That’s why I’m here.”
SINCE HE’D deliberately arrived a little before six-thirty, Logan was almost disappointed to see Nick’s Jeep parked on Arlington Avenue when he turned up the drive leading to Acken’s shop. Even if Nick had shown up right on time, Logan had planned on teasing him unmercifully about being late and making Logan hang around waiting, even letting the pizza he’d picked up on the way to the shop get cold.
The short trip up the driveway gave Logan time to reconsider. Could be that Nick being early for their appointment was a sign of eagerness, maybe even equal to Logan’s own. He pulled into the open garage bay door, beeping his horn and yelling, “Pizza delivery for Nick Zales.” The way Nick jumped in shock at the sudden entry more than made up for him foiling Logan’s other plot.
Nick continued to gape in surprise as Logan jumped out of the driver’s seat and plopped the box and two sodas down on the workbench. “You really did bring a pizza.”
“Yeah, I figured it was my turn to provide some grub,” Logan answered easily, though his pulse quickened as he heard Nick advancing on him.
Before Logan could turn around, Nick had grabbed him from behind and nuzzled his neck. In a husky whisper, he said, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, eh?”
The feel of Nick’s right hand trailing down to his groin caused Logan to gasp, “That ain’t my stomach.”
A throaty chuckle poured melted butter into Logan’s ear. “Don’t I know it.”
Logan twisted around suddenly, facing Nick and taking advantage of the opportunity for a teeth-jarring kiss. His own hands found their way to Nick’s ass, and Logan roughly pulled him even closer.
When they broke, Nick grinned at him, still in the embrace, saying, “We let this go on too much longer, and we ain’t gonna get any work done on that car.”
Logan reluctantly released Nick, admitting, “Yeah, you got that right.”
Nick pointed to the pizza box, saying, “Guess we can eat first, though.”
“Yep, may as well eat before we get down and dirty.”
“Thought we just agreed we weren’t gonna do that,” Nick quipped as he opened the box and grabbed a slice. “Mmm, sausage and mushroom.” He grinned around a huge bite, mumbling, “Great choice.”
“You’re sure in a good mood,” Logan said, shaking his head fondly as he dove into the pizza himself.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Nick held the half-eaten slice aloft, saying, “Good food with a good friend, and my car’s almost done. Right?”
The jolt in his stomach at Nick calling him a good friend surprised Logan; to cover his confusion, he bit off half a slice and swallowed before answering, “Almost is a stretch. Let’s wait an’ see how far we get by Sunday night.”
“We can finish up next weekend, can’t we?”
“Only got next Sunday afternoon to work on it. I got the girls next weekend.” As soon as it was out of his mouth, Logan braced himself for the questions he’d hoped to dodge until later.
As if on cue, Nick said, “That reminds me. On the phone this morning, you said it didn’t go so well with Linda last night. What happened?”
A weary sigh escaped from Logan as he explained, “Linda was saying how she wants us to be closer and share everything and all that crap.”
Nick took a gulp of his soda, then cocked his head at Logan, asking, “Okay. What did you say?”
“Me? Well….” Logan grabbed another slice of pizza before admitting, “I pretty much went along with it.” Rather than look at Nick, he concentrated on eating as if it required the full force of his attention. Logan finally peered up to see Nick frowning down at his second slice of pizza. The silence was more unnerving to Logan than a lecture would have been, so he quickly offered, “’Til later when I was alone with Trudy.”
Nick looked up sharply, asking, “Then what?”
“Then I told Trudy I didn’t want to be married
to Linda anymore, that I never really did.”
A sparkling smile, rivaling any marquee Broadway had to offer, gleamed at Logan as Nick enthused, “You did? That’s great, so
what—”
Before Nick could get too worked up, Logan cut in, “Trudy cut me off at the knees.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning she blew me off.” Logan grabbed a few napkins and wiped his mouth before finishing, “Said I was bailin’ out because I was afraid of all the hard work ahead and she wasn’t gonna let me do it.” He punctuated that statement by tossing the used napkins in the wastebasket. “Let’s unload the parts.”
He turned to find Nick standing stock-still with his hands on his hips, frowning at him. “Wait a minute. Trudy said that, and then you said…?”
“I said….” Logan slammed his tailgate down and hoisted the first box out the truck bed, mumbling, “She was right.”
Nick appeared next to him and accepted the box as he glared at Logan, snapping, “Why the fuck did you say that?”
Logan watched Nick put the box next to the T-bird and ran a hand through his hair, muttering, “I don’t know.” He turned to get another box and added, “She’s just thinkin’ of my family—more ’an I am, seems like.”
When he handed the next box off to Nick, Logan was stunned to see a softened expression on his face. “Aren’t you part of your family, Logan?”
“Of course I am.”
“Then you got as much right to be happy as they do,” Nick grunted as he moved the heavy box next to the other one. “And Trudy’s not your sister, by the way.”
It was Logan’s turn to stare in shock. “Well, thanks for the newsflash. What kind of mushrooms were on your part of the pizza?”
Nick walked over and put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. He gave it a squeeze, explaining, “You’re following an old pattern here, don’t you see? Daisy made you sacrifice what you felt was the right thing to do for the sake of your brother, now you think you have to listen to Trudy and sacrifice your own happiness for your wife and daughters.”
As he unpacked the reconditioned parts, Logan searched desperately for a way to refute Nick’s analogy, but the frustration and resignation he’d experienced in Trudy’s office the night before was just too familiar. He hadn’t made the connection himself, but now he remembered feeling the same way eighteen years earlier as a teenager, wilting under Daisy’s lecture about the necessity of sticking by your family.
The sad truth was that recognizing this connection solved nothing for Logan. He straightened up and looked solemnly at Nick, asserting, “I don’t care about Daisy no more. What I do care about is my girls, and yeah, Linda—in a way.”
“Then care enough to be honest, Logan. You think goin’ back and living a lie again is gonna make anyone happy?”
Halfway to the tool chest, Logan whipped around to face Nick. “Be honest? Are you saying I should tell them—”
“That you’re gay? Yeah, I think you should.” A couple of strides brought Nick right in front of Logan, close enough to hear him ask softly, “Because you are… aren’t you?”
A lifelong expert at dodging that question from his own mind, Logan didn’t immediately answer. Instead he gave a dismissive shrug, saying, “That ain’t the point,” and headed back over to the tool chest.
As he selected tools, a voice floated over his shoulder. “Then what is?”
Silently contemplating the enormity of what Nick was asking of him, Logan went to work. Tell Trudy—and Linda? Face his own wife’s sneering condemnation? And it wouldn’t stop there, would it? No, Linda would tell Marie, who’d tell Bob…. Shit, word would get back to the mill, even. Then guys like Chuck would know the truth—how right they were about him.
Logan started seeing a confession to Trudy as a pebble dropped into a pond, the ripples of his big news spreading out into the wide world, confirmation to all those who had previously questioned his manhood. Like wildfire, the news would spread to everyone in his life…. Logan sat back on his heels as the worst part of this plan hit him like physical blow: Krista and Meghan.
As if no time had passed since Nick’s inquiry, Logan wheeled on him, protesting, “No way am I gonna tell Trudy or Linda that. The girls would have to know, too!”
Nick looked up from the piston in his hands, tilting his head at Logan. “Okay… so?”
Rather than facing the question directly, Logan snarled, “So? So Linda and her lawyer would take ’em away from me for good. I might never see them agai—”
“What?” Nick straightened up and moved towards Logan, his outrage sizzling through each word. “They can’t do that! You got visitation rights as an abuser and you think they’re gonna keep your girls from you because you’re gay?”
Logan felt his own anger rising in response. “Maybe they won’t have to take ’em away because the girls won’t want nothin’ to do with me once they find out!”
Calm returning to him, Nick stated firmly, “I don’t believe that.”
“’Cause you know ’em so well, huh?” Logan snorted. “After meeting ’em that one time.”
“I saw how much they love you.”
Logan’s treacherous mind immediately turned the word into the past tense, “loved.” He swallowed down most of his panic at that thought, managing only to say, “No kid wants a dad who’s… like that, Nick. You know they don’t.”
“They wouldn’t let that stop—”
“I can’t put ’em through that. Not on top of everything else they’ve been through.” He turned pleading eyes on Nick, aching for his understanding. “It’s just too much, too soon.”
Relief washed over Logan when Nick nodded in apparently reluctant agreement. “Then you gotta find a way to make Trudy believe you without tellin’ her… everything.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll think of somethin’,” Logan promised wearily, hoping that would be the end of it for the night. He nodded at the car. “Let’s get some work done.” Intending to lighten the mood, Logan quirked an eyebrow at Nick, saying, “Or we won’t have time for anything else tonight.”
Nick grinned at the obvious gambit. “Does that mean you’re comin’ back to my place when we’re done here?”
Logan nodded towards the passenger seat of his Ford. “That overnight bag answer your question?”
“Hot damn!” Nick rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. “Let’s get busy now,” his smile widened as he finished, “so we can get busy later.”
THEY WORKED diligently, not only Thursday night, but every spare minute the two could find through the weekend, making so much progress that Sunday at five p.m. found them taking the Thunderbird, with its rebuilt engine, out for a spin through The South Side Slopes.
After taking a sharp corner at 45 mph, Nick revved the motor and headed up the hill on Coast Avenue. He grinned at Logan, crowing, “Damn! I can’t believe this is the same car!”
With one hand braced on the dash, Logan shook his head, admonishing, “You keep drivin’ like a maniac, and it’ll be a junker again soon enough.”
Since Logan’s proud, happy grin matched his own, Nick just waggled his impressive eyebrows and gunned the car up Canton Avenue, the steepest street in all of Pittsburgh. When Nick crested the hill easily, he felt like a dad whose son had just won the Little League World Series. He finally slowed and turned down Hampshire, pulling into the first open parking spot he saw.
Turning to the man next to him, Nick was entranced by the sight of a relaxed, ebullient Logan. He had to grip the steering wheel tightly to keep from reaching over and dragging Logan into his lap for a wild makeout session right then and there. Nick sublimated his impulse through a fond shove to Logan’s shoulder. “You are one hell of a mechanic, ya know that?”
The blush that suffused Logan’s face as he shook the compliment off made him look almost exactly like he did at the height of passion, and Nick felt his already interested cock stand up and take notice. He was half-tempted to slam the car back into drive
and head straight for home—and bed—but the other part of him preferred to draw out this festive night and delay the literal climax of the evening. “We gotta celebrate g’tting’ this car back together, you know that?”
“Sure.” Logan must have been feeling the tension, too, since he asked archly, “What’d you have in mind?”
A growl from his stomach reminded Nick that he hadn’t eaten since his skimpy breakfast. “How ’bout we get some dinner before anything more… elaborate?”
“Sounds good. Is there some place around here?”
A second of thought brought the answer to Nick. “Liberty Grill! You haven’t even been there yet, have you?”
“Nope.” Logan frowned, asking, “But didn’t you tell me Trudy’s husband runs that place?”
“Yeah, but Larry never works on Sunday night. It’s okay.”
Skepticism laced Logan’s question. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I wouldn’t’ve suggested it if I wasn’t.” Logan was still mulling it over, so Nick prodded, “Come on, Logan. It’s a Pittsburgh landmark. And the food’s the best.”
“Okay.” A sly smile graced Logan’s face as he added, “Wouldn’t wanta miss this landmark of yours.”
Twenty minutes later, they were ushered to a corner booth with a good view of the busy counter by the evening hostess, Maddie, whose familiar greeting to Nick seemed to interest Logan very much. “Seems like you know everybody here.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Sensing where this was headed, Nick rushed to calm his jumpy companion. “It’s not like anyone’s going to be reporting back to Larry that I showed up tonight, or with who. They’re too damn busy to keep score. ’Sides, it’s not like I’m a novelty or anything, I’ve been comin’ here since I was a starving college student.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I knew Larry before I knew Trudy.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope, I used to come here for dinner and bring my books. Larry served me probably… thousands of cups of coffee when I was studying into the night, right there at that counter.”
Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits Page 119