by Tracy Ewens
“Morning, Kara.” Garrett smirked as she walked past him, eyes down, waving as she quickly passed. Logan shook his head and walked over to his brother.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“You know, I really am.” He patted Logan on the shoulder. “Produce is in the kitchen. You better get to work. From the looks of the kitchen, seems like a lot of bread was made last night.” Garrett continued laughing all the way out the door. Logan smiled because his brother was sure due for some kind of karma; he just hoped he would be around to see it someday.
Chapter Twenty-Five
He should have felt weird that Grady and one of his best friends, Peter, were having lunch at the bar, especially since Logan had recently taken Grady’s sister right on the counter in the next room, but it felt as normal as just about anything. Grady and Peter grew up together and seemed more like brothers than friends as they sat arguing over which movie they considered Al Pacino’s best.
There was that brief moment when Logan came around the corner to relieve Sage, so she could deal with a phone call. His eyes met Grady’s and Logan wondered if he had “Holy Crap Your Sister is the Hottest Thing on the Planet” plastered all over his face, but it passed and now he was putting white plates and a pizza in front of both men.
“So how was she?” Grady asked and Logan nearly knocked their drinks across the bar.
“Excuse me?” Logan tried to swallow.
Peter steadied his teetering beer glass.
“Easy there, Logan. Maybe you need a beer,” Grady said.
“She was good,” Peter answered because apparently the question was directed at him and not guilty-I-know-your-sister’s-‘O’-face Logan. “I mean, I think Sam likes what she’s doing with her dress, so thanks for handing us off to one of your ex-girlfriends.”
“Girlfriend is a really strong word. One I hope you’ll refrain from using around Kate. We went on a couple of dates and she wasn’t my type.”
“The woman designs wedding dresses. I could have told you she was not your type.” Peter laughed.
“Wait, but aren’t you engaged now?” Logan asked filling up a soda water for the out-of-towner who sat at the end of the bar reading.
Grady smiled and Logan couldn’t believe how much his face changed. He’d met Kate, before Grady had proposed, and she was a knockout, but Grady had it bad.
“I am, yes I’m very engaged.”
Peter rolled his eyes and put his arm around Grady. “Logan, I wish you’d known this guy before he found the love of his life. Then you would be able to truly appreciate the transformation. He’s a goner.”
Logan laughed and Grady just nodded and raised his drink to toast.
“So how about you?” Grady asked Logan. “Have you made peace with my sister yet?”
You could say that, Logan thought, but didn’t say.
“I, yeah, she’s . . .” Holy shit, he couldn’t speak. Get it together. “She’s fine. We’re fine.”
Grady grinned at Peter and then they both looked at Logan. Damn it.
“Okay, so everything is . . . fine?” Peter asked.
Logan nodded and wiped down the bar. They were directly across from him and Sage still wasn’t back. There was nowhere to hide and he wondered if he should look at them because he could feel their eyes on him. Shit, this is ridiculous.
Grady’s eyes honed right in on him.
“Holy crap, Pete. He’s sleeping with her. Do you see it? Right there, the weird twitchy thing his eye is doing. Dead giveaway for sleeping with a guy’s sister.”
Logan stopped wiping the bar, looked at Peter who was nodding and smiling, and then he did the stupidest thing he could remember doing. He put his hand to his eye. It was right up there with the grade school game, “You’ve got something on your shirt. Bah, made you look.” That stupid.
Grady burst out laughing first and Peter was right behind him.
“Oldest trick in the book, man. Wow.”
Logan shook his head, said nothing, and checked over his shoulder for Sage. Grady reached around and patted him on the back.
“So”—Grady straightened and cleared his throat—“what are your intentions with my sister, Master Rye.”
Peter and Grady laughed and seemed to expect Logan to join in, but he didn’t. He was too busy peeling the label off a beer bottle he’d collected from a vacant seat at the bar and wondering when things got so damn complicated.
“Any advice?” he asked after his new friends had settled down.
“Advice?” Peter repeated.
Logan nodded and threw the empty bottle out and the clank of bottles hitting other bottles echoed through the bar. He stared at both men. They must have realized he was serious because they both seemed concerned.
“On women in general or the one you’re currently in . . .” Grady paused to consider and Logan shot him a look that begged him not to go there, “in . . . volved with?”
“Mine, I mean the one, yeah, your sister.” Logan shook his head in embarrassment. This was rough.
“Well, it goes without saying she’s a handful.” Grady turned to Peter who agreed and took another sip of beer.
“But . . .” Logan met his eyes and Grady had a smile he hadn’t seen yet. He would later understand it was Grady’s big brother smile. “She’s one of my favorite people. She’s a fantastic light of color in a, well, a less than fantastic world.”
“It’s hard for me to figure out who the hell she is. One minute she’s cold, proper, Kara and then she’s—” Logan could feel his heart, physically feel it, throbbing in his chest. “I saw her studio. I had no idea. Again, something she didn’t tell me.”
“Yeah, Kara’s not a big sharer,” Peter added.
“But if you’ve seen the glass lair, well that’s something, man. Our parents don’t even know she designs those lamps.”
“Help me understand that. I don’t get how you can be around people, spend time with them and there are all of these things they don’t know about you.”
“Selective vulnerability,” Grady said. “We all do it.”
“I don’t.” Logan almost pulled his words back because he’d forgotten that he was a liar too. Is lying by omission the same as being a liar?
“Oh, sure you do. No one spills all their shit the first time they meet someone or even a month in. You’re kidding yourself, Logan. Kara’s not that different than the rest of the world. People hide and lie to themselves and others all the time. I get that you need her to be real or honest, but it seems like she’s working on it for you.”
“For me?”
“That’s the way I see it. Kara had it a little harder than I did growing up. She chose the good girl, always behave, and do what’s expected route.”
Peter nodded to Logan in agreement.
“That shit will kill you,” Grady continued, “or at least mess you up pretty bad.”
“I guess. That’s the thing, I don’t know because I don’t live in that world. I really don’t want to. Kara and I are having a good time. I guess that’s all I need to worry about.”
“A good time. Right.” Grady smiled at Peter.
“If you say so, man,” Peter added.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Grady sipped his beer. “If you ever decide to move past a good time, here’s my advice. One of my favorite pictures of Kara is from when we were little. It’s this picture of her on Easter morning. She has her basket, it’s morning, and her hair, which was lighter than it is now, is all over the place. Crazy hair and warm face. Her smile is mischief and sweet. It’s framed on the wall in my house. Anytime someone sees it, they can’t believe it’s Kara. That’s how she wants it and quite frankly so do I. Crazy-haired Kara isn’t for everyone. She’s special. You’ve been given a gift not many people get—to my knowledge even fewer men. You get to see crazy-haired Kara. Even better, she loves you.”
Logan felt the shock in his face as he started to correct Grady, but Grady ignored him and continued.
&n
bsp; “You’ve got to just hang on to crazy-haired Kara. She’s the best, and man, you’ve brought her back to all of us. She’s bolder and braver with you by her side. The rest of it’s bullshit. She knows it and she plays along. She has her whole life. That doesn’t make her phony. That doesn’t mean you don’t know her or that she’s not genuine. She’s one of the most genuine women I know, when she allows herself, when she’s safe. Just keep her safe, Logan, and you’ll spend your life with crazy-haired Kara.”
Logan felt a lump in his throat and was thankful when the guy two seats down ordered another round.
“That was beautiful, man,” Peter mocked Grady and then pretended to wipe a tear.
“Wasn’t it? Probably better than half the shit you write.” He shoulder checked Peter, hard.
All three men laughed and Logan nodded to Grady that he understood. It didn’t make it any easier, but it was clear. She loved him, that’s what Grady said, and on some level Logan knew. He hadn’t planned on this. The banter, the teasing, maybe even a little more, but then she was supposed to bolt again. That’s what he knew, what he expected. But she wasn’t going anywhere and Logan couldn’t figure out how to let Kara in, because Grady was right. They all had parts of themselves, lies they’d told, that they didn’t plan on sharing.
As Kara approached Boone Park, she could see Makenna stroking the top of Paige’s head as she talked with other mothers and their little girls. Paige had a birthday party and Makenna had little or no free time, so Kara agreed to meet her at the park for their interview. She smiled as she got closer and Makenna waved, indicating she would be right over.
Kara took a seat on one of the benches. Hanging overhead was a huge oak tree. The sunlight trickled through tiny leaves and she lifted her face to the blue sky. The tree was a massive twisting of trunk and limbs. She squinted her eyes and wondered how many generations of children and mothers this tree had seen. How much laughter or how many skinned knees? Kara wasn’t often around young children except for Eloise, and even then it was mostly school productions, birthdays, or holidays. She had once kept Eloise overnight while Jake and Cotton went to a convention. She had to take her to a play date and was given a behind-the-scenes look at the elaborate network of parents and their children. Being part of that seemed like it could be an incredibly supportive network of men and women all going up the same stream, but according to Jake, it was much more like high school all over again.
“Whose child is better, smarter, going to a better camp,” Jake said, “but there are cookies and juice boxes to disguise the fangs and nails.” Kara could see that now, looking over at the gathering of young girls and their moms with cell phones out. She wondered if there was a prototype mother, kind of like debutantes. Was there a certain standard or code of conduct and was anything outside that mold considered odd or out of place? She knew that Jake and Cotton dealt with close-minded people all the time, but they were two gay men raising a little girl. Their situation was very different than the average suburban family, but Kara wondered more about slight differences like disability, divorce, and finances. Did those move you from one clique to another?
She caught a glimpse of Makenna who was smiling and nodding like all the other moms as she tried to break away from the group and move toward Kara. Were these women her friends? Did they know Makenna had lost her husband and her mother? Did they treat her differently because she was single or even because she worked or was raised on a farm? Kara was raised by someone similar to the squeaky-clean blonde in the green cardigan and the floral headband. Bindi Malendar always sat at the popular girls’ lunch table and while Kara had not been nearly as polished, she’d made judgments in her past that she was no longer proud of.
Makenna walked toward her looking a bit frazzled now that her back was to the mommy’s club. Kara took out her pad and decided she would stick with her prepared questions.
“I’m so sorry. I mean how many damn pictures of her last trip to Hawaii does she have on that phone?” She plopped herself down next to Kara who laughed.
“So, she’s not your friend then?”
Makenna glanced back at the moms.
“My friend? Yeah, no. We all have kids who go to school together. That’s about where it ends.”
“I see.” Kara looked at her.
“I guess that was a little harsh. They’re nice women and they do a lot for the school. I just, well, I have a different life. I work and usually have some kind of mud or hay or food on me. You’d probably fit right in over there.” Makenna smiled.
“As fun as that sounds”—Kara crossed her legs—“I’ve spent plenty of my life around perfect women. It’s far too stressful.”
Makenna laughed. “So, I’ve never actually been interviewed. What am I getting myself into?”
“It will be painless, I promise. I simply want your perspective on The Yard, and what it’s like working with your—”
“Do you like him?” Makenna asked, cutting her off and suddenly looking like a protective sister.
Kara wasn’t that surprised. She had been around Makenna enough at the restaurant to know she was blunt. She wasn’t exactly rude, but she seemed like a woman who had little time or tolerance for bullshit. Kara considered the question and went with honesty.
“Yes, very much,” she admitted, “but these articles aren’t about whether I like or dislike your brother. They are about his work and more specifically The Yard, which is such a huge part of what you do.”
Makenna was giving that “I’m not really hearing you, finish up because I have something to say” stare.
“That’s why I asked to meet with you.” Kara tried to redirect, but it was useless.
“The thing is, the Rye family is a little—Oh, what’s that stupid word Garrett’s psychologist girlfriend used to call us?—enmeshed. Right, that’s a fancy way of saying we are up in each others’ business.” Makenna smiled.
“Garrett already shared the sleepover story?”
Makenna nodded.
“Shit.” Kara covered her mouth, remembering she was around children and then promptly felt bad. “Sorry.”
Makenna laughed. “I’m sure these kids have heard much worse. Don’t let the headbands fool you.”
“Makenna, I’m hoping to get these interviews done. What goes on in my private life needs to stay there. Things tend to get out of hand when I discuss things.”
“I’m not going to share any of your secrets—none of us would. We don’t operate that way. I’m looking out for Logan. You seem very nice, but this restaurant is his world right now. I mean, we are all in it up to our elbows, but it’s his dream. I’m not trying to be nosy or get all Tony Soprano on you, I just want him to be happy. There’s no one on the planet who deserves to be happy more than Logan. He’s taken care of all of us since he was a little guy. The man is exhausted and I’m happy he’s getting a little action, no offense.”
“None taken.”
“It’s just that it took him a while to refocus after you the first time.”
Kara’s heart woke up and she was suddenly aware of it in her chest. “What?”
“When you two split up in Paris. That was kind of a tough time for him. He wandered around a bit, spent some time in Seattle, and then eventually came home with razor-sharp focus about what he wanted to do and who he wanted to be. I don’t want to see that go anywhere.”
Kara said nothing and Makenna tilted a little trying to catch her eyes.
“Kara?”
Their eyes met.
“I’m sorry. I can be a little up front sometimes. I’m not saying you’re messing with him. Well, maybe I am. You have all of this other stuff in your life and it seems very glamorous, but also pretty complicated and I want to make sure Lo is not caught in the mess. Ya know?”
Kara didn’t know what to say. She was still spinning a bit at hearing Logan even reacted to her leaving, let alone had a difficult time.
“I understand what you’re saying.” Kara turned to her. “I�
�m not messing with your brother, Kenna.”
It was a bit of a standoff, Kara thought. Two women who clearly cared about Logan in different ways: one was the simple and powerful love of a sister and the other was anything but simple.
Kara tried to explain. “I care about him. I’ve always cared about him, but I’m not stupid. I realize our lives, our families, are different. Logan isn’t looking for any more than what we have right now and so—”
Makenna tilted her head in confusion, “Oh wow, don’t kid yourself. Please, if you honestly believe that, you know nothing about him. The man is all about roots and commitment. He may be blowing something else up your skirt, but that’s just protection. You left him, do you get that? Do you see the connection?” she asked.
Kara was completely lost now. “I didn’t leave him. I had to go home. I’m a little shocked by all this because honestly, Makenna, your brother doesn’t seem that traumatized.”
Kenna shook her head. “That’s not how he works. Logan picks up, dusts off, and makes dinner. He always has, but when he met you in Paris, he was like a kid. I guess the kid he never got to be. When we talked to him on the phone, he went on and on about the things he was learning and everything he saw in Paris. We knew he was in love. You can just tell. Ya know?”
“Yeah, I do,” Kara said, barely above a whisper.
“I’m not blaming you. I know that you probably have your own set of family issues, but he never talked about it. When he came back it was all business and that guy we talked to in Paris was kind of gone. Dad thinks Logan probably has ‘abandonment issues.’” Makenna put up air quotes, laughing a little. “Our dad watches way too much Oprah.”
Kara smiled, thankful for some relief in conversation because she felt like someone was sitting on her chest.
“Abandonment issues?” she asked.
“Well, Dad said when Mom left that Logan did the same thing. He didn’t fall apart even though he was only seven. He just organized and started cooking. Sort of the same thing with you.”