by Bowes, K T
“No!” Logan looked hurt. “I need to give you a proper ring. I told you, when I put the ring on your finger and kiss the bride, I’ll maybe feel a bit more secure.” His eyes twinkled and he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. Then he shook his head. “Na, still not quite right. You will definitely taste better when you’re a bride.”
“Ok,” Hana slapped his arm. “But we need to pay half each.”
Hana had an absent moment when enthusiastically pointing out a pair of matching wedding bands, she leaned forward to look more closely and nutted the window hard with her forehead. It hurt and brought tears to her eyes while Logan tried hard not to laugh. Along with the tears it also brought the shop assistant to see if they needed any help, or a hand moving on for that matter. “We actually want to buy something,” Logan reassured her. “We’re not just vandals. Well, I can’t speak for my fiancé, but I’m not.”
“Would you like an ice pack for your head?” the assistant offered. “It’s looking red from the whack.”
Hana decided the red mark was less humiliating than an ice pack in a public place and concentrated on not making a further fool of herself. Her ring finger sported a spiteful cut from the supplejack exactly where the ring was supposed to sit, but the assistant managed to get the sizing instrument over it anyhow. “You have delicate fingers,” the assistant smiled, as though it was a good thing and Hana took a sideways look at Logan under her eyelashes to see if he agreed. Together, they tried on the matching set, which was a simple arrangement of twenty-two carat gold with a herringbone pattern etched into the surface.
“They cost an absolute fortune, Logan! Can’t we find something cheaper?” Hana hissed. “I think my first wedding ring came out of a cracker!”
“Nope, we’re doing it properly,” Logan whispered back and bought them anyway.
The assistant, a formidable woman of retirement age with grey hair scraped severely into a bun, pointed out a tray of diamond encrusted bands. “It’s usual for the lady to have an engagement ring as well.”
Hana looked appealingly at Logan. “Please let’s not. I can’t go into work wearing an engagement ring and expect colleagues not to ask why and the wedding bands were expensive enough.”
Logan looked disappointed until the assistant suggested eternity rings were more popular nowadays as a sign of eternal love and mainly purchased at the first wedding anniversary, or the birth of the first child. Hana flushed slightly with embarrassment at the mention of babies, especially as it was so highly unlikely.
“Ok,” Logan conceded. “I’ll buy my wife an eternity ring on our first anniversary.” He winked at Hana and she relaxed, wondering what it would feel like to have been married to him for a whole year. Her face clouded at the thought that he might already be sick of her.
“What’s up?” Logan asked her outside, observing Hana’s dark expression. She turned to him anxiously, having to lean in towards him to whisper.
“We never talked about children. It’s just that...well, I don’t think I can...”
“Hana, stop!” Logan wrapped his arms around her, causing a traffic jam in the middle of the busy mall. “A year ago I would have killed to be stood here holding you. Having a family hasn’t even crossed my mind. I honestly don’t care. I can’t seem to make you understand that being with you is all I ever wanted. If I’d found you years ago when we were both younger, you would have been married. Trust me, I’m really grateful for what I have.”
Hana sighed with relief and then ruined the moment for herself by worrying about the stretch marks left on her body from previous pregnancies. She winced and Logan looked concerned, a questioning look settling on his face. She gulped. “I’ve just these really ugly lines on my stomach from having Bo and Izzie so close together. They’re sort of here...” Hana touched her stomach down near her hip, looking tearful.
Logan looked serious for a moment, his brow creased in concentration. “That could be a real deal breaker. I wish you’d said something before I bought the bloody rings!” He placed his hands in the small of Hana’s back and pulled her hips into his body, his face softening with lust and expectation. “Maybe I should have a look when we get back to your place. In case I’m not sure.”
Hana’s jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed. “You git!” She smirked despite herself and Logan laughed. “I believed you!”
Choosing things for a secret wedding was exciting. Hana felt guilty for her children, but they have their own lives, she reasoned. Maybe one day when she was safe, they could have a party and get their marriage blessed by Pastor Allen. For some inexplicable reason in this moment, the idea of a secret start to married life with her new partner appealed to Hana more than the razzmatazz of a big event. Hana did the shotgun wedding with Vik, the hurried arrival at the registry office with her rounded belly protruding from the borrowed sari and Logan had done the dream white wedding with no bride. So between them, they had good reasons to avoid it this time. People would be shocked but then they would understand she was sure of it. Real friends will accept it, she told herself.
Wandering around unhurried together was fun. They laughed at similar things and disliked many of the same stuff and it felt right. Logan seemed more settled when the rings were safely in his wallet, tucked inside his leather jacket pocket behind the zipper. “Now you can’t get out of it,” he smiled in triumph and Hana resisted the urge to joke that she could. But he read her mind anyway and knitted his brow. His face took on a petulance Hana hadn’t seen before and Logan looked afraid. “Please don’t freak me out?” he asked her and Hana kissed him tenderly, mischief playing in her green eyes.
Hana looked down at her hand. Her ring finger looked bare without Vik’s wedding band. It was her New Year’s resolution, to move forward, but she felt naked and exposed without its protection. Although it had become less white looking, the finger still looked misshapen and weird without a ring on it. It was true; man was not meant to be alone, but maybe woman wasn’t either, she concluded. They wandered into a furniture shop around three o’clock, which was playing The Beatles, Hey Jude. Hana never heard that song without thinking of the story of her father, who was reportedly late for his own wedding because he was queuing for the single vinyl of that song outside the music store as a gift for her mother, Judith. Ironically, his Judith was profoundly deaf and would never have gotten any enjoyment out of it, apart from the colourful cover and the sentiment.
Logan wandered off to look at something and Hana moseyed around the tables and sideboards, intrigued by the paint effects used on perfectly ordinary wood to give it that French chic look. She studied it for a few minutes and wondered if some of her furniture might look good with a facelift. The kitchen table had taken on a whole new lease of life from the vicious sanding she gave it out in the garden at Achilles Rise and the cream legs set it off perfectly. She would have liked to pretend the cream legs were part of the plan. In truth, the top had taken so much effort by the time she came to the round and intricately turned legs, Hana broke out an old pot of cream paint and went for it, sick of the sound of the sanding discs and the taste of wood dust.
Logan joined her and taking her hand, led her over to look at something else. “What do you think to this? It’s magnificent, aye?”
It was a four-poster bed, not dark wood as they often were, but in the same French style, a pretty cream with gold rubbed randomly into the corners. Instead of thick, heavy curtains around it, pale green voile covered two sides and had been pulled back on the other two to display the bed itself. It came complete with mattress and bedding, which was cream broderie anglais with tiny green embroidered flowers. The bedside tables were also part of the deal. “I am so buying this,” Logan declared and Hana looked shocked.
“Do you have money to burn or something? I’m not marrying a spendthrift!”
Like naughty children, they took off their shoes and clambered onto the bed. The shop assistant glided rapidly over, ready with her don’t-sit-on-the-displays face, until she heard
Logan say to Hana, “We have got to have this! I love it.”
The assistant was around twenty, blonde and fresh faced but looked nervous at how the old couple had rucked up the sheets by laying on them. Her look of painfully disguised disdain was hilarious and Hana found it hard not to giggle. Instead of a canopy of fabric over the top of the bed, there was a high fixed wooden roof, which matched the rest of the wood and would probably reach the ceiling of the bedroom. Hana lay on her back and looked up at it. Small spotlights had been fixed into it, to compensate for the fact that the roof would block out light from a ceiling mounted bulb. Hana wondered how they were powered and tracked a cable down the back of the post nearest to the headboard. She figured it must plug in, which was fine as the main room at Culver’s Cottage had new double sockets either side of the bed. Hana leaned over the side to see how long the cables were and whether they would reach. “It should reach,” she called over her shoulder.
Logan chatted to the shop assistant about delivery and timescales, lying sexily on his side and obviously captivating her attention with his long black lashes, tall, strong physique and rugged facial scar, all of which Hana told him made him look like Bodie’s old Action Man. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fully observing his future wife as she reached too far over the side and disappeared with a squeak and a bump between the bed and the side cupboard.
Hana paused for a moment to collect herself as she lay on her face, trapped between the furniture. Once she started to fall, she knew what the outcome was going to be. And in front of a leggy twenty year old! Shame. She was unprepared for the ungainly landing, pelted with pillows and the heavy matching bolster which followed her down. Hana emerged from underneath the accessories and fabric, her hair sticking up in a tousled, bed-head and her jacket and shirt in complete disarray. Mustering what dignity she had left, Hana waved the extended cord in her right hand and announced casually, “Just as I thought, it will reach our sockets!”
Logan appeared to have been cryogenically frozen with his body laid casually on its side enthralling the assistant and his head screwed round facing Hana. Logan smirked at Hana’s attempt at a dignified recovery and his memory of her bottom disappearing over the side. The smirk said it all and Hana tried not to feel offended as she raised herself up, replaced the pillows and bolster and patted them lovingly into place with one eye on the traumatized shop assistant.
Logan hoisted himself elegantly up using his stomach muscles only, leaving Hana thinking, show off, declaring they would take it, bedding, side tables, everything. Clearly smitten by his good looks and charm, despite his great old age, the assistant clicked off on her high heels to fill in the paperwork. Logan left Hana to finish straightening the bed, giving her another smirk and adding to her pain by winking over his shoulder as he sauntered after the girl.
“Woman, you’re a disgrace!” Hana admonished herself audibly, using a nearby mirror to sort herself out and primp her straightened hair back into a semblance of normality. By the time she reluctantly approached the counter, Logan in his best English-teacher-joined-up-handwriting was capably filling in the paperwork.
“It’s the last in the North Island. We can have it this week.” He was happy and it showed in his face as he produced a credit card. Hana almost choked at the bill and could never imagine herself being so carefree with that many thousands of dollars. She began to claw back her pride, until the assistant commented through gritted teeth,
“You might as well have that one, seeing as you’ve already had so much fun in it!”
Logan snorted and looked like he might be going to agree with her but then thought better of it when he saw Hana’s raised eyebrows. He signed the paperwork and paid for the bed, following his fiancé out into the mall. “You are such a flirt!” Hana complained and pushed him into a rack of women’s undies hanging on display outside an underwear store. A polka dot lacy bra strap got caught round one of the big buttons on his leather jacket and by the time he had extricated himself under the watchful eye of a prowling security guard, Hana had enjoyed her revenge by walking away laughing.
Chapter 47
“I’ve had a fantastic day,” Hana smiled, looking relaxed and happy. “It doesn’t feel as though I’ve known you less than two months.”
Logan wrinkled his nose and gave Hana a cute smile, basking in a moment which had seemed a lifetime in coming. “Everyone’s going to think I’m crazy,” she sighed. Perhaps she was.
“Do you trust me, now?” Logan asked, casting a look sideways as he changed lanes. “You believe I’m not messing around with my ex, hey?”
“Yeah, I believe you.” Hana looked out of the side window. “But you were right when you said it suited me to believe the worst of you, because then I could retreat from my desires and go back to what I had before.” Only she no longer wanted that life.
Logan knitted his brow and looked worried, contentment sliding from his face, replaced with fear. Hana ran a slender hand over his thigh. “I believe you and you make me happy. I don’t want to worry about anything else, not today, anyway.”
Hana felt sure her rash behaviour would come back to bite her, especially when she had to admit to everyone what she’d done. A rebellious voice in her head told her not to listen to their criticism. They didn’t have to live alone with memories and boredom for company. They couldn’t know what a poor companion loneliness was, for someone who still had so much love still to give.
“I asked you to marry me because I love you, Hana. I’m not going to let you down. You can’t honestly think it would be worth it? Twenty-six years of wanting to be with you, even though I didn’t know your name. Why would I screw that up?” Tension made Logan’s jaw work underneath his skin.
Hana didn’t answer, rubbing at the spiteful cut on her ring finger. It felt sore and the ring fitting opened up the shallow wound. A rugby team playing in Auckland enjoyed a running commentary on the radio and Hana used the time to get things straight in her head. She adored Logan. Hana figured the only problem was that she hadn’t yet said it. Sitting in the passenger seat, Hana watched Logan covertly as he drove home, concentrating, switching lanes and reacting to the commentary with facial expressions of pleasure or incredulity, depending on what he heard. On impulse, she reached out and put her hand on his thigh again, trying not to distract him. It did distract him. Dreadfully.
Logan took his eyes off the road and glanced down at Hana, a worried expression replacing the look of concentration preceding it. “I love you,” she said and watched as happiness spread across his face like a breaking dawn. Perhaps he was waiting to hear those words; she couldn’t be sure. “I feel so grateful that another human being wants my love as much as you do. I don’t deserve it.”
Logan placed his left hand over hers and squeezed it tightly. He looked emotional and flicked the radio channel over to a music radio station. He nodded. “I don’t just want your love, Hana; I need it. I’ve always needed it.”
They drove home singing to familiar tunes from the eighties, loudly and badly, hope burgeoning in their hearts. Using the back roads via Huntly, Logan drove over the Tainui Bridge, becoming quietly watchful again as reality snaked into their lives.
That night they cuddled up on the sofa together and watched a Saturday night movie on the fuzzy television. The picture was best with Logan holding up the portable aerial, but his arm ached and that strategy was quickly abandoned. “Spoil sport,” Hana grumbled. “I was quite enjoying myself looking at you. You’re quite tank for an English teacher.”
“Yeah, well my workouts don’t involve TV aerials!” Logan snorted and tickled her until she nearly barfed.
“There’s no decent receiver at the property and I’m worried about the safety of anything fixed to the roof in the high winds,” Hana confessed later. “And I’ve never been bothered about Sky channels. Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Bothered about Sky. We can get it if you are. I might be able to afford it once the rent starts coming in from the Ac
hilles Rise house.”
“Na, I’m good. There’s heaps of other things we can do to fill the time.” Logan smirked and Hana felt a steady flush creep up from her chest, staining her neck and making her feel self-conscious. Logan leaned in and kissed the sensitive skin on the side of her neck. Hana shivered and he stopped and looked at her, his eyes sultry with a hint of amusement. His lips felt soft and warm on Hana’s skin, but a sudden miserable flashback of the look on Vik’s face when she told him she was pregnant, left her reeling. The thought of having a baby at her age was ridiculous, but Hana was driven by the urge to do things right this time. It replaced desire with a sickness which made her feel overheated.
She pushed at Logan’s chest and he resisted, taking her slender wrists in his strong brown fingers. He pulled her hands apart and wrapped them around his waist, pulling her into a soft embrace, his woolly jumper speaking comfort into Hana’s rattled soul. “It’s fine,” he soothed. “I’ll wait for you. It’s fine.”
Neither of them saw the end of the film. The fire roared in the fireplace giving off a soporific heat and they dozed off shortly before ten, Hana laid sideways across Logan’s body, her head on his stomach.
A metallic banging noise woke them simultaneously, causing Hana to let out a little cry as Logan leapt up from the sofa in a knee-jerk reaction. Hana was bleary with sleep, shaking with adrenaline, but Logan was wide awake and ready to fight. He marched out into the hallway while Hana tried to control her rapidly beating heart enough to stand up. By the time she was anywhere near the front door, Logan was already outside on the veranda and running down the stairs carrying something long and black in his right hand. Hana’s heart pounded, feeling like it was lodged in her throat as she reached up and turned on the recently fixed external bulb to light his way. She noticed fleetingly even in his investigative haste, Logan still took care to shut the front door after him, engaging the new Yale lock he fitted. It was really only a minute or so before Logan returned, but it seemed more like twenty.