by Jez Strider
“Great idea.” Logan said in agreement.
“If you’re sure it’s not an inconvenience.” Maria said. “I don’t know why my father won’t get it through his head that I’m gay.”
“You’re gay?” Candice and Logan both said in unison.
Maria laughed. “Yes. That’s why Logan’s advances always failed when we were kids. He also had a terrible looking mullet.”
“Shut up, geez.” Logan groaned.
Candice was relieved and laughing. “I’ll have to see a photo of that sometime.”
First tragedy averted.
A few months went by without incident. The proposal had been shrugged off. Logan had promised to do it right someday. Life was going great until a call from Maxwell Harworth forced Logan to make some decisions and stand up to his father.
“I don’t understand why you have to leave for a month to work somewhere else.” Candice said.
“It won’t be that bad. I will do my job and then visit my father to tell him I want to make this my permanent residence. He needs someone to keep an eye on the stores in this area.” Logan told her reassuringly.
The comforting tone did little to relieve her concern. She paced back and forth in the kitchen while her boyfriend watched on shaking his head. Her index finger went to her mouth, but remembering the recent manicure she refrained from chewing on the nail. “You are coming back?”
That had Logan off the barstool and he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Have I ever let you down?”
“No. Of course not.” She sighed.
He kissed her cheek before releasing her from his embrace. His hands deftly flipped open the black leather briefcase on the counter. “Good. To soothe your concerns and make sure you never end up living in a car again, I did something.”
Candice tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and stepped closer to Logan. “This should be interesting.” She watched curiously, half-expecting a real marriage proposal.
“I put little by my father. He’ll do most anything to get his way.” He unfolded the paper in his hand and gave it to her. “This house is yours. Paid for and in your name only.”
It was true. She was holding the deed in her hand. “Logan, I don’t understand.”
Next, he handed her a checkbook and debit card which were in her name. “For all I know the plane could crash and I’d die. What would happen to you then? I want to be prepared. There’s always the chance of being disinherited, too.”
“I still have most of the five thousand dollars you gave me in my purse.” Candice said. “Please don’t talk of dying. All the money in the world won’t save me if that happens.”
He smiled. “I’m not going to die, but it’s better to be prepared. This checking account,” his finger tapped against the card in her hand, “has five hundred thousand dollars in it.”
“Holy shit.”
“Don’t get too extravagant while I’m away or leave me or anything crazy like that.”
Her arms went around him and she hugged him tightly, never wanting to let go. “I may be a bit nutty, but I will never leave you.”
“Kiss me. If I stay much longer I’ll miss my flight or lose the will to leave at all.”
Standing on her tiptoes, Candice pressed her lips against his several times before pulling away. She straightened his tie a little. “I will go to the airport with you even though crowds like that send me into a cold sweat.”
“One goodbye is hard enough. Besides, we’ll be in touch everyday through texts and video calls. Right?”
“Yep.” It was the only word she could manage. Her bottom lip was quivering.
“I love you, Candice.”
“I love you more.”
He’d closed his briefcase and headed for the door. His luggage had already been loaded into the limo. “Never could.” Logan gave a wink before walking quickly down the walkway and sliding into the backseat of the car.
She stood waving from the doorway until the limo was well out of sight. Alone. It was one thing she’d never wanted to be again.
“Mr. Harworth. Your son is here.”
“Send him in, Wendy.” Maxwell said as he leaned back in his office chair facing the window away from the door. He steepled his fingers, feeling rather satisfied with himself.
Logan entered the office in confident stride, walked right up to the desk, and set his briefcase down loudly on it. His father didn’t flinch.
Eventually, after an amount of time Maxwell deemed appropriate to unnerve his son, he slowly spun his chair around to face the boy. “Son.”
“Father.”
The room fell silent again as they stared each other down in a small contest of male dominance. Maxwell leaned forward, opened a box, and handed his son a cigar. “To what do I owe the privilege of this visit? Aren’t you supposed to be promoting a grand opening?”
“I am going to after I leave here. I needed to tell….” He was cut off by his father.
“Good. You’re so photogenic and all. It’s great for the papers.”
Logan groaned. “Yeah, I know. Listen, I wanted to tell you that after this event I’m going to settle down. I can supervise the district I was just in.”
Maxwell’s eyes slanted. “Settle down? You’ve had more pussy than I have. Wait, did things go well with Maria?”
“I have not… well, maybe I have had more pussy, but I’m done with all that partying. It’s time for me to finally grow up. It’s not Maria. She is gay, by the way.”
“Gay? What a waste. Then again, I wouldn’t mind watching that.” The old pervert grinned and popped his cigar into his mouth.
“Focus. This is important. I’m in love with this crazy, funny girl and she needs me as much as I need her.”
Maxwell scoffed. “Of course she needs you. They all want the money.”
“I don’t care about your opinion on the matter. I am only respectfully informing you of my decision.”
“Is she hot?”
“Very.”
After thinking about it for a moment, the elder Harworth sighed. “I’m assuming she’s not rich. Is her family at least well known in the community? Lawyers or doctors at the very least?”
Logan hesitated. “Her family was lost in a fire.” He left out the part about the surviving sister in prison on drug charges.
“Hell, son. What sort of job or degree does she have?”
“She attended some junior college. Art classes.”
Unexpectedly, Maxwell started laughing. “You let some poor, uneducated girl make you fall in love. It’s so pathetic, it’s funny.”
“I’ll do this event with the new store, but then I’m done. However that works out, I will be fine. Learn to respect the decision or lose a son.” With that, Logan left the room without looking back.
The little outburst and threat did little to worry Maxwell Harworth. His son was one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. He knew the boy would come to his senses before making too severe of a commitment to a woman Max had already labeled in his mind as a gold digger. But, to be on the safe side he called his assistant.
“James, my son is having a bit of an identity crisis. Find out about this girl of his and see if we can offer her a substantial enough sum of money to leave him.”
“Sir, if I may speak freely, is that a good idea? I wouldn’t think he would take too kindly to it should he find out.”
Maxwell finally lit the cigar that had been in his mouth. The clearness of his response was slightly muffled, but his intent was not. “I don’t pay you to think, I pay you to do.”
“I will contact her immediately.”
That first night alone without Logan wasn’t as hellish as Candice had thought it would be. Sure, it was hard, but he’d called when he landed and before bed to check on her. She’d even managed to curl up on the couch and finish a new book in one sitting.
Morning had come and with it the determination to put the past behind her. Logan had shown his faith and love by giving
her the house and the money. Now, she had to rid herself of the demons that were holding her back from true happiness. On the way out the door, she grabbed the keys to her beat up old car. It should have been gone already, but she’d clung to the relic that had once doubled as her home.
The morning rays of sunlight made the dew on the vibrant green grass glisten. Slowly, she drew in a deep breath. It was a new day and it smelled fresh and clean. Perfect. It was a perfect day for discarding the baggage that weighed her down.
Candice slid her key into the ignition and turned, ready to take on the world. Nothing. She tried again, but the car didn’t seem to have even a spark of life. With a few curses of frustration, she climbed out of the car and kicked one of the worn out, barely inflated tires. “Piece of shit.”
After retrieving a set of jumper cables from the trunk, she popped the hoods of both the junker and Logan’s car. Carefully, she attached the cables and made sure they weren’t backwards. The car started with a boost and she let it run for a few minutes before continuing on her mission.
With the windows down, she left the neighborhood and headed toward the home she’d shared with her ex-husband. There were times in the past year that she’d almost run back to him. Not because she loved him. Not because he’d ever been a good man. No, because her life had been that bad. Of course, it had been bad with him in it, too.
There was still half a tank of gas in the car when she parked in the gravel in front of the trailer. It had been much nicer when she’d lived there. Clean, at the very least. Had the neighborhood deteriorated that fast or had she not been able to see it before? Lying to herself had been a common tactic in chasing away self-pity.
When her ex-husband opened the screen door, she drew in a deep breath and stepped out of the car confidently. She even threw in a toss of her hair that she’d been struggling to let grow out. Her dress hung comfortably on her body, while still softly hugging on her curves. It had been a gift from Logan to celebrate their three month anniversary.
“Candy?”
“Wes.” She said simply. “I never told you how much I hate having my name shortened to Candy. Seems more suited to a stripper.”
He stepped closer. She’d left the car running in case she needed to make a quick exit. “I wish you were a stripper.” His laugh was perverse. “At least your boyfriend decided to stay home this time.”
“What do you know about my boyfriend?”
“Trusting relationship, eh? A few months ago he broke into my house and beat the shit out of me. I would have been able to take him if I hadn’t been….”
“Drunk.” Candice finished for him.
Wes shrugged. “Yeah, well, you know me.”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
“What are you doing here? Did you come by to bust my balls?”
Candice looked around briefly, before fixating her eyes on her ex-husband. “I wanted to tell you face to face how horrible you were to me and that it doesn’t matter anymore. You have no hold over me.”
“You know you still love me. Come inside and we’ll talk it out.”
“No. I hate you. For a while, I thought about how wrong that was. That I shouldn’t hate anyone. Then, I realized it’s your fault, not mine. You have to live with that. I don’t anymore.” She opened her car door and slid back into her seat. Before he could say another word, she shifted the car into gear and hit the gas. Gravels pelted Wes as she sped out of the trailer park.
It was a rush. She’d stood up to him. The night she’d left him, she had snuck away while he was passed out on the couch. It was good to tell him to his face how she really felt. Next stop, her childhood home… or what was left of it.
Logan posed for one last picture for the newspaper’s photographer. He tried squeezing his way through the crowd when the paparazzi snapped a near blinding shot. Then, a television producer stopped him with an offer to appear on a show featuring filthy rich bachelors.
“No, thank you. I’m a regular guy. I don’t wanna tank your ratings.” He said in polite refusal.
Man, Candice would hate all this.
After excusing himself from several other conversations, he made his way to the limo and buried his face in his hands. How had he lived this lifestyle before? He’d loved the attention then. Now, he wanted to go home. He knew the way people perceived him was his own fault. For years, he’d given the media what they wanted. There had been endless fodder for the cheap checkout tabloids. One week he’d be photographed lighting money on fire, the next passed out on an exotic beach.
“I was such an asshole.” He grumbled. Was he that same guy playing out some fantasy with Candice? He wondered. But, no. He knew he loved her. The sensation had been a mixture of fireworks and nausea when they had met.
Logan instructed his driver to take him to see his mother before pulling out his phone. He touched the screen, smiled when he saw Candice’s photo on his contact list, and immediately called his girlfriend.
“Logan! I miss you.” Candice’s voice greeted him in his earpiece.
“Hey, baby. I can barely hear you. Are you outside?”
“I went for a drive to relax. Let me roll up the window.” She switched her phone to the other hand and the distortion went away. “Better?”
“Yes. Are you okay? I’ve thought about you nonstop.” He said, looking out the window at the city traffic that was at a standstill.
“Aside from wanting you to come home, I’m alright.”
“I’m glad. Small town life suits me much better than this crazy place. You wouldn’t like it.”
“Hang on.” Candice lowered her phone for a few seconds before speaking again. “Sorry, a cop drove by. I didn’t want to get a ticket. I wish I was in the city because it would mean I could be with you.”
He smiled softly to himself, surprised by the extent of how homesick he was. “Maybe I’ll be able to come home early.”
“That would be wonderful! Either way, I will be here waiting for you.”
“Better be. I’ll call you back later.”
Candice popped her lips in the sound of a kiss. “Hopefully that makes it to you.”
“I treasure it more than you know.”
Logan ordered a bouquet of multicolored daisies and had them delivered to the house with instructions to leave them on the front porch. He knew it would be a welcome surprise when Candice returned from her drive. If he knew her, and he thought he did, she’d love the vibrant rainbow flowers more than stereotypical red roses.
Once traffic thinned, he arrived shortly at the home he grew up in. There were good memories and he was thankful for being able to live without financial worries. He had grown up to be a wild, arrogant young man. He’d stayed that man for a long time. It would have been easy to accuse his uncaring, distant father or miserable mother, but he knew he was the one to blame. The choices were his.
An unfamiliar butler greeted him at the door and escorted him to the sitting room where his mother was waiting. She sipped carefully from a steaming cup of tea. When she looked up, her eyes widened. “My dear son.” The cup was placed on the serving tray and she crossed the room in a stride that still held grace and elegance to welcome him.
“Hello, mother. You look well.”
She took a step back and looked him over. “Something is different about you. Have you lost weight?”
“A few pounds. I haven’t been drinking and partying.” He’d never been fat, but his mother was perceptive because that’s how moms tend to be.
His mother raised her eyebrows. “Come, sit. Is this because of a girl?” She took his hand and led him over to a chair.
“It’s so weird, Mom. I saw this clumsy, upset girl and the world suddenly made sense. I told father already that I’m going back and I’m done with publicity.”
“How did that go?”
“Err… not great. You know how he is. She is not from a great background or wealthy.”
She was shaking her head. “You have to do what makes you happy.
I married your father because that’s what my family wanted.”
Logan frowned. “I want to marry her, Mom. Can you make father leave us alone?”
“I can’t promise anything, but I will try. What I can do is give you this.” She gave a twist and removed the engagement ring that he’d never seen off her finger before. When Logan hesitated, his mother smiled. “Take it.”
He extended his hand and she placed the antique in his palm. “She will love it.”
“It’s an heirloom handed down through my family. My mother gave it to your father to propose to me. He almost said no because he wanted to give me one of his own choosing being that he owned a jewelry business.”
“Why did he use it?”
“He thought I would turn him down.” She laughed. “I almost did.”
“Thank you.” Logan stood suddenly and kissed his mother’s cheek. “I’m going home to her. I don’t care if it pisses father off or not.”
His mother stood and gave him one last hug. “Be a good man and a good husband.”
“I will.”
At the same time Logan was visiting the Harworth Estate, Candice had come to the end of an old country road and exited her car. Where her home once stood, only a crumbled foundation remained. Flowers and weeds with tiny purple flowers had taken over. The yellow dandelions and green vines entwined haphazardly over the grey stone. Like life, the mess of growth was somehow beautiful in its own way.
It was the first time she had returned home since the fire took the lives of her parents. Her fear kept her away, kept her from facing the full assault of the pain. After nearly a decade, it still hurt.
An old tire swing hung from a large oak tree. She remembered it well. For hours, she’d take turns with her sister. One would swing and the other push before they’d swap places. A smile crept up on her as she stepped toward the memory and sat down in the swing.
“Dinner’s ready, girls!” Her mother would call. Candice thought she actually heard the familiar voice briefly.
Life was so simple then. God, how I miss them.
