He opens the door and leans on the frame. I can’t help but to look at his arms. The curves and lines that form his muscles protrude in just the right way. I tear my gaze away and look him in the eyes, which in this instant is worse than looking at his body. I feel like I get a tiny piece of him every single time I look at them. I’m drawn to them like a moth to a flame. I tear my eyes away and look back down at a cooing Lily.
“I bought you an egg sandwich,” he says. “It’s getting cold.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll be right down.”
“How’s she doing?” he asks, motioning toward Lily.
“She’s great,” I say with a smile because I know it’s the truth. She is thriving and beautiful and strong and that has everything to do with me. Every single doubt, every single negative word that my parents spewed at me about not being ready to take care of a child was false and it gives me a surge of pride in knowing that I’ve proved them wrong, even if they’ll never know it.
“Good. That’s really good.”
The insecurity I’ve felt since we had our conversation this morning returns. I don’t want my staying here to be full of anger or animosity. I know that I lied to him but I keep hoping that he’ll see that lying was my only choice at the time. “Logan?”
“Yeah.”
“Are we okay?”
He lets out a breath. “Yeah Mia, we’re okay. I get it, alright?” He states, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks guarded, defensive and I can’t help but to feel a little sad about it. “I understand why you did what you did. You’re a legal adult now so it doesn’t even matter. Nothing bad happened to you, you’ve done a great job with Lily, and you’re making it work. It’s over.”
“But you don’t trust me, right?” I ask, biting my lower lip, clearly showing my nerves about his answer.
“Do you need me to trust you? I’m not your boyfriend and I’m not your father.”
“No, but you’re my friend.”
“Friends, huh?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Do you trust me?”
I avert my gaze, looking past him and out to the hallway rather than at him. He knows, gets enough about me to know that I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anyone, and I know that I’m a hypocrite for wanting him to trust me when I can’t give him the same thing. That I’m incapable of it because life has taught me that trusting people gets you nothing but heartbroken and hurt. I hate that I’m this jaded at eighteen, that I’ve felt enough pain to get me through a lifetime, but if I could choose to let myself trust somebody, I would choose to trust him.
“Alright,” he says, putting me out of my misery. “I can live with friendship.” He pushes himself off the door frame and shoots me a smile before walking away.
Logan watches Lily while I eat breakfast and take a shower; it’s strange not having to rush through these seemingly normal tasks, to have someone around to give me a break, even if it’s only for fifteen minutes. I don’t want to take advantage of him but God it feels good to have a little time to myself. After my shower I head out of my room in search of Logan and Lily. I pass an open door on my way downstairs and come across the two of them in the bedroom adjacent to mine. Lily is in her play yard while Logan is sitting on the floor with a toolbox setting up a crib. I’m confused by the scene being played out before me. It seems natural yet wrong, a contradiction.
“Ah what are you doing?” I ask.
“Hey, I’m putting this crib together for Lily. I thought it would be good for her to have a place to sleep while she’s here.”
“You bought her a crib?” I ask, the disbelief evident in my voice. Why would he buy something as permanent as a piece of furniture for Lily when we’re only going to be here a few days. I’m not sure what to make of the gesture, but Logan seems to make an art form of confusing me. From the day I’ve met him, every interaction with him leaves me more and more mixed up about his intentions.
“Umm.”
“Logan, I can’t accept this. You have to take it back.” I try to sound firm, but he just glares at me looking annoyed by the fact that I’m protesting his generosity.
“Relax, Mia. I got it at a thrift store for practically nothing. You can take it with you when you go. She’s getting bigger, she’s not going to fit in a bassinet forever.”
He has a point but I hate the idea of accepting charity from him, especially from him. I desperately need for him to see me as capable, as someone who can take care of herself. “Alright fine, but I’ll pay you for it.”
He stops what he’s doing and looks up at me. “It’s a gift.”
“I don’t need your gift.” I challenge.
“Ahh but it’s not a gift for you. It’s a gift for Lily.” He declares with a smug look on his face.
“Are you always this controlling?”
“Yes.” He confirms and continues working on the crib again. “Are you always this irritating?”
“Yes… Can I at least help you?”
“That would be great. Why don’t you hold that piece over there up for me? It connects to this railing.”
I move quickly, getting the piece he needs and kneel on the ground next to him. “So now that you know my story, how about you?”
“What about me?”
“What’s your story?” I probe, trying to get him to open to me some. Maybe then the fact that I’ve spilled my past won’t seem like such a huge deal.
“No story, I’m just your average guy.”
“I don’t know about that. I think everyone has a story, Logan.”
I can swear I hear him groan. “Not me.”
“Okay. Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask nonchalantly, not wanting to let on that his answer matters to me one way or another. It shouldn’t matter, nothing good can come of me developing stronger feelings for Logan; the crush I’ve admitted to myself is bad enough.
He looks me in the eye and smirks. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
I can feel the flush reaching up to my cheeks. Why his reaction embarrasses me I have no idea. I change the topic as quickly as I can. “What about your family?”
“What about them?”
“This is like pulling teeth. Where are they, do they live nearby?”
“Yes,” he says with a chuckle. “They’re nearby. My mom and dad live a couple towns over in the same house I grew up in. My sister lives about fifteen minutes away and my brother lives in New York City.”
“Are you all close?”
“Yeah. We’re pretty close.”
“What did they think about you becoming a cop?”
“Wasn’t what they wanted for me, but…they’re proud of me anyway.”
“It must be scary for them, huh?”
“I imagine it is scary at times, but they know that I’m very careful, that I don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
“Right.”
“Any more questions, detective?”
“Haha. You’re a regular comedian.”
For the first time today, I feel a little bit of that chemistry, that attraction that lingers between Logan and me.
Logan spends the rest of the day doing odds and ends around the house and I do my best to stay out of his way. I’m still not sure how to act around him or how to wander freely around his house without feeling uncomfortable. For the most part I lounge in my room—reading a book with Lily at my side, until he comes upstairs to let me know that dinner is ready.
I meet him downstairs, and he’s in the kitchen serving up a plate of pasta.
I look to the dining room and see he’s already set the table. “I hope you don’t mind pasta,” he says, handing me a plate.
“It looks great. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a home cooked meal.” I regret saying that as soon as it leaves my mouth. I hate seeing that look in his eyes; it’s pity and the last thing I want is for Logan to pity me.
“Have you not been eating well?” The tone in his voice gets to me. It re
sonates through me, cloaking me with a feeling of sadness. It’s like his emotions have been transferred to me but I don’t comprehend them. The sadness confuses me, why would he be sad for me? A girl he barely knows.
“No, I have. It’s just that I don’t really like to cook just for myself,” I say, taking a seat at the table. He sits down across from me. “It’s just me and Lily and she obviously can’t eat what I make. It’s really pointless to make big meals so I just make a lot of soup, sandwiches, and TV dinners.”
He gives a slow nod and sighs. “I want you to feel free to take whatever you want, make whatever you want while you’re here.”
While you’re here…
For some reason those words are like a weight on my chest. When I ran away, I wanted my freedom, to be independent, to raise Lily on my own. Yet the thought of leaving this house causes that kind of involuntary reaction from me. I’ve only been here a day and already it feels more like a home than I’ve ever known, but I know that this is temporary and the longer I stay here the harder it will be to move on and that’s not good for any of us.
“That reminds me,” I say, “Janet, my landlord called. She says my apartment should be ready to move back into on the fifteenth.”
“Okay.”
“You realize that’s almost two weeks right?” I query. Staying here for a few days is one thing but two weeks is a long time. I don’t want him to think that I’m taking advantage of him.
He picks up his phone and opens up the calendar. “I have a late shift on that Friday,” he says, picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of pasta. “I’ll take you by your apartment and we can make sure that it’s acceptable together.”
I let out a chuckle and roll my eyes. “Acceptable? Really, Logan?”
“Yes. Really, Mia. I want to make sure that everything I spoke to her about is done. You’re not going back there until I know you’ll be safe.”
“You just can’t help acting like a cop all of the time can you?” I tease, after chewing my bite of food.
“I take my job seriously Mia, but we’re friends remember? And as your friend I’m not letting you move back into a place that’s not up to code. You have Lily to think about and you shouldn’t take things so lightly where her security is concerned.”
His statement sobers me up and I know that he’s right. Our safety and security are what’s most important, but if I don’t get back to my life as soon as possible, I might never want to leave this house.
We spend the rest of dinner talking like real friends. I ask him about being cop, and tell him about my job at the day care center. He tells me about his love of cars and about his favorite sports teams and I find myself soaking it all up. Relishing in the normalcy of it, of sitting and having a meal with someone who isn’t totally self-centered and absorbed in their own universe, someone who actually cares about what you have to say. I make a silent promise to myself to give this kind of normalcy to Lily, to let her know that she matters, her likes and dislikes, fears and dreams, I want her to know she can tell me all of it and I’ll always listen. I’ll give her what I never had, the things that money and status can’t buy.
“This was really great, Logan.” I praise, after I’ve eaten all of my meal. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll do the dishes.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll just toss it in the dishwasher later.” He looks at me with a hint of gleam in his eyes. “Stay here, okay? Don’t move.”
“O…Okay.”
He smirks at me. It makes him look boyish and I love it because he has a tendency to be too serious. I hope I can get to see more of this side of him. He stalks off and comes back a minute later with a small chocolate cake; a single lit candle sits in the center of it.
My heart rate picks up and my eyes start to tingle and burn.
“Happy Birthday, Mia.” He grins at me. “I know it was yesterday but I think everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday, even if it’s a little late.”
I put my head down and try to shield my smile and water rimmed eyes from him. “Thank you,” I say on a whisper as he sets the cake down on the table. “This is really sweet of you.” I swipe away at a falling tear, embarrassed by my reaction to his thoughtfulness.
“Hey.” He calls out gently, tipping my chin up so that our eyes meet. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” I brush out of his hold with a shake of my head. “It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I got a birthday cake.” He looks up at me resting on his haunches and gives me that look that’s becoming all too familiar, the one that tells me he feels sorry for me.
I hate it, hate that he looks at me that way and hate that I care. I shouldn’t care what he thinks or feels about me but unfortunately I do. “Don’t pity me, Logan. Please.”
“I don’t.”
“I see how you look at me.”
“That’s not pity, Mia. Do I feel bad for some of the things you’ve gone through? Yes. Of course but mostly I’m just in awe of your resilience. You’re a really tough girl.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“You are. I know strength when I see it. Now make a wish and blow out the candle so we can eat this thing.”
Make a wish…a wish…What would I wish for if I could have anything I wanted? The answer to that question scares me for as much as I’d like to deny it, the only thing I want right now is more of Logan Tate. I blow out the candle, letting the thought linger in my mind.
“What’d you wish for?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Right…I’ve got one more thing for you,” he says, walking over to a nearby hutch and pulling something out of a drawer. “I picked this up earlier today. Don’t freak out, okay? It wasn’t that expensive.” He sits down and hands me a box wrapped up in blue paper with a white ribbon on top.
I stare at him in disbelief. I want say something but I can’t, and after a moment I gently undo the ribbon and open up the wrapping paper, careful not to tear it. Inside the box is a small black digital camera. I look up at him, stunned at the fact that he got me anything at all for my birthday, let alone a camera. It’s without a doubt the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me and because it came from him I know I’ll treasure it always.
“Lily’s getting bigger and I thought you might like to capture it on camera.”
I can hear the excitement in his voice, the joy that he feels in giving me something that he knows I need. He’s right, I’ve thought about it several times in the last few weeks. How I’ve wanted to document her growth in photos. How I’ve wanted to capture moments with her but haven’t been able to. “Shit, Logan… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just use it.”
I will… I will use it. Thank you. This was so nice of you.”
“I can be a nice guy.” He shrugs his shoulders and chuckles.
“I know. I feel like I’m racking up debts with you and I’m afraid that I may never be able to repay them.”
“I don’t want you to pay me back. I just want you and Lily to be happy, that’s all.”
I’m not sure how to accept his words of kindness, his wishes for me and Lily, but I’m quickly learning that Logan Tate is nothing like what I’m used to. In fact, he’s the complete opposite.
Logan worked most of the day yesterday, leaving me and Lily in his house alone. I snuck on his laptop and ordered a copy of Lily’s birth certificate, then passed the rest of the time by watching cable television, setting up my camera and doing most of our laundry. By the time he got home I was already asleep. True to his word he set up a video monitor in the spare bedroom so that I could check on Lily while she’s sleeping in her crib. A crib that after careful inspection appears to be brand new and not thrift store material. A fact that was proven when I found the empty box for said crib in the basement while I was searching for the laundry room. I also found the receipt for the crib mattress, bedding, and baby moni
tor. Every time I think that I’ve seen the extent of Logan’s thoughtfulness he surprises me with something else. I find my guard slipping a little bit more every day and it scares the hell out of me. It’s hard to understand the fear of others but for me, “trust” is the biggest one of them all. To trust someone means being weak and vulnerable, and I promised myself that I would never be either of those things again.
After a long hot shower, I dry off and cover myself up in a plush white towel. I decide to check on Lily to see if she’s awake yet. I use the door that connects to her bedroom and open it up slowly so that I don’t wake her if she’s still asleep. I tread lightly into her room and stop dead in my tracks as I take in the sight before me. The early morning sunlight is beaming through the window, shining like a spotlight on Logan who’s sitting in an old rocking chair and rocking Lily back and forth. He has a sleepy look on his face, his short hair is a bit disheveled, and he’s holding her as if it’s second nature.
Something inside of me churns at the sight of them, witnessing them together like this makes me melt a little. He looks down at her lovingly and she holds onto his finger innocently and just for a second I allow myself to believe that they fit. That it’s not totally out of the realm of possibilities for a guy like Logan to take on a girl like me, to love a child like Lily. I’ll never understand Logan’s penchant for taking care of others, maybe because I never had anyone to take care of me, not in any real way. He’s yet to notice my presence so I run back to my room and grab the camera that he gave me. I quickly set up the shot and snap a few pictures of them together. The sound of the shutters click alerts him to my being there.
The corner of his mouth twitches up into an almost smile.
“Hey,” he whispers. His face flushes a little and I think that I might have embarrassed him by taking his picture, but then I catch his gaze roaming the length of my entire body and I realize my nearly naked state is likely the cause. Suddenly I’m only all too aware that my attire consists of nothing but a towel.
“Shit, sorry.” I grimace, backing up slowly. “I didn’t know you’d be in here and then I saw you guys and thought I’d take a picture. I forgot that I had just taken a shower.”
Shelter You Page 5