Living at 40 (Lakeside Cottage Book 1)

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Living at 40 (Lakeside Cottage Book 1) Page 24

by L. B. Dunbar


  “Logan. Oh my God.” His diabetes immediately comes to mind. My eyes fall to his pump near his hip, but I don’t know what to do for him. Because he was overweight, he was misdiagnosed as Type 2 diabetes in his thirties. He told me how he has LADA—late autoimmune diabetes in adults. He jokingly called it Type 1.5, but I looked it up and found he wasn’t kidding. In short, his pump regulates the insulin his body needs to function properly.

  I scream for Ben and immediately hear little feet running down the hall. Stepping up to Logan, I try to right his pants enough so he won’t be compromised, but he pushes at me. I narrowly miss what would have been a powerful slap.

  “Daddy!” Lorna yells, and I turn to catch her before she gets close to her father.

  “Do you know what to do?” I work hard to fight the panic coursing through my body as I speak to Logan’s child. “Juice, right? Or candy?”

  “He should have sugar,” Lorna states as Ben rounds into my room.

  “What’s going on?” He notes Logan over my shoulder and rushes to his friend.

  “Lorna, does your dad keep sugar sticks in his pockets?” Ben tries to search Logan’s shorts, but Logan’s swatting at him to stop the effort. Logan is bigger than Ben, and I’m worried he’ll hurt my brother in Ben’s efforts to help.

  “He should,” Lorna admits.

  “We have Pixy Sticks in the candy jar,” Mila suggests, and Lorna runs down the hallway with Mila following after her.

  “We need orange juice for him, too,” Ben states. “And maybe some peanut butter and crackers.”

  I stand still, frozen for only a second, as Ben cups Logan’s face with one hand and talks to his friend, who is telling Ben he hates him.

  “Autumn!” Ben hollers at me, keeping his eyes on Logan. “Move.”

  I pass Lorna coming up the stairs with Mila and Anna behind her as I head down. My hands shake so uncontrollably, I’m spilling juice as I pour it, and then I’m spilling more as I hustle back up the staircase.

  As I re-enter the room, Ben is pouring sugar under Logan’s tongue. Logan grips Ben’s wrists, trying to fight him. His hair is wild like he was pulling at it. I race to Ben’s side, nudging Lorna out of the way.

  “Should they be in here?” I hand Ben the glass of juice, and he quickly glances over his shoulder.

  “Anna. Peanut butter and crackers,” Ben snaps at his wife, who directs Lorna to the hallway. Shit, I’d forgotten the crackers. As Ben holds the juice, he forces Logan to drink while talking to him in a coaxing voice.

  “Drink the juice, Logan.” Ben’s voice is calm but demanding. Some juice spills out of Logan’s mouth, but a good portion enters despite his struggle against Ben. Time feels like it moves in slow motion as Ben administers the sugary drink to Logan along with encouraging words despite Logan’s attempts to stop my brother. Anna returns with an entire box of snack packs of peanut butter and crackers, and I take the package from her with shaky hands.

  Slowly, Logan blinks, and his agitated state seems to settle. He’s still clutching Ben’s wrists, no longer fighting him but holding on to him. His entire body continues to tremble.

  “That’s it,” Ben says, still holding the glass at Logan’s lips until he drinks more than half of it. “You’ve got this.”

  “What happened?” I whisper.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Ben states, finishing with the juice and pulling the glass back from Logan’s mouth. “I think he had a diabetic episode of some sort.”

  Tears fill my eyes. What did we do? I consider the sex. Did I hit his pump? Did it dislodge? My eyes fall to the device. I don’t know anything about his condition.

  Ben firmly holds Logan’s jaw as he stares at Logan, whose eyes appear to return to focus. He’s still shaky and sweaty, though.

  “What happened?” Logan croaks, eyes wild but not dazed like they previously were.

  “You tell us,” Ben says. “I think you went into a diabetic state.”

  Logan looks down at his pump and touches the equipment. His head pops up, and he glances from Ben to me and back at Ben.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers and my mouth gaps.

  “You did nothing wrong.” My shrill voice is full of shock. He has nothing to apologize for.

  “I think I overexerted myself.”

  “What were you doing?” Ben asks and Logan’s eyes shift to me. His color is still too light to hint at blushing but my cheeks heat. “Never mind,” my brother mutters.

  “What did I do?” Logan addresses me as if he already knows something happened. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” I whisper, but distress fills my voice. He lifts a shaking hand for my face, but something makes me flinch from his touch.

  “Autumn,” he whispers before his eyes return to Ben. “What did I do?” The trepidation in his gaze, along with the dread in his voice, nearly breaks me. Tears I want to hold back slip freely down my cheeks.

  “It’s nothing, man. What can I do for you? What else do you need?”

  “Crackers. Peanut butter.” Logan’s voice is still weak.

  “I have them.” I’ve been clutching the box so hard I dented the packaging; however, my fingers are so shaky I don’t have the strength to break the plastic wrapping.

  “Autumn,” Logan says in a firmer tone. A clammy hand covers mine to still my frantic motions. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

  “Are you?” Panic laces my voice which cracks.

  “Just tell me.” He wants to know if he hurt me, but I shake my head. He reaches for me, wanting to tug me down to him, but I’m afraid to touch him. I’m afraid I’ll hurt him. What did I do?

  Silent tears continue to glide down my face. I stare down at him, clasping my hands together so I don’t grab him and pull him to me. His head lowers with shame, but he has nothing to be embarrassed about.

  “I need to learn what to do for you.” I never want to feel so helpless again. Quickly, I turn my attention to Ben, who is holding out a cracker for Logan.

  “Thank you.” I’ve never been so grateful for my brother. His quick reaction. His steady hand. Red marks cover his wrists, and Logan reaches up to run a finger along the razed skin. His eyes widen.

  “I’m so sorry, Ben,” Logan whispers.

  “It was nothing.” Ben keeps his eyes on his friend. A thousand words are passed between the two of them without a single one spoken. “This hasn’t happened in a while, right?”

  Ben’s comment surprises me as if he’s had experience with this reaction in Logan.

  Logan shakes his head. “It could have been a number of things, but I’m thinking it was the . . eh, zealous activity.”

  My face heats again at the hint.

  “I have a kit in my room. I’ll do a finger prick in a bit,” he adds.

  I should know all these things.

  “Teach her everything,” Ben demands.

  Logan nods and turns back to me, directing his words to me next. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  I shake my head again and finally give in to touching him. Cupping his face, I stroke over his stubbly jaw. “You have nothing to apologize for.” I can’t deny the fear inside me that things could have escalated. This could have gone terribly wrong. The tremble in my arms is uncontrollable as is the racing of my heart, but Logan did nothing wrong.

  “I’m the one who is sorry.” My voice remains low, apologetic, as Logan chews a cracker. He glances down at his shorts which are partially zipped, barely covering him.

  “Shit.” He glances up at Ben and then back at me. After placing the cracker between his teeth, he reaches for his zipper with shaky fingers.

  “Zealous activity?” Ben teases, trying to break the tension between all of us.

  I briefly close my eyes again, before Logan reaches for me, tenderly circling my wrist with a cool, clammy hand, forcing me to look at him.

  “Tell me. Did I hurt you?” Anxiety fills his wide eyes.

  “No,” I state again. We were finished with se
x before he started falling apart, or at least, I think his reaction started afterward. Maybe that’s why he was so clammy instead of sweaty. Maybe that’s why he was so rough and determined.

  “Please don’t lie to protect me.”

  “I’m not.” I glance at Ben and back at Logan, giving him a weak smile.

  “Daddy?” A meek voice comes from the hallway, and I glance over my shoulder as the door to my room slowly opens. Logan hardly says a word before his daughter is racing to him, wrapping her father in her arms. Tears fall from her as she must have been just as frightened by what happened.

  “I’m okay, baby,” he coos to his daughter, stroking over her head while his hands continue to tremble.

  “I brought you sugar like you taught me,” she says, sounding proud of herself.

  “Good girl,” Logan replies, his voice weak and full of concern. He’s still stroking over her dark hair, just as afraid he hurt her.

  “She was very helpful,” I assure him. “Ben took over once she brought up the candy.”

  Logan sighs in relief. “I usually carry honey sticks in my pocket.” Logan pats at one. “But I didn’t have any on me. So stupid.” He whispers the last two words.

  “Why don’t I take you back to your room?” I suggest to Lorna. “And let Ben finish with your dad.” I keep my eyes on Logan. He needs some space from being the center of attention and privacy to regroup. He can talk Ben through whatever he needs next. Logan gives me a subtle nod of gratitude before glancing back at his daughter.

  “I love you, baby girl. I’ll be all good in a little bit.”

  “I love you, too, Dad.” Lorna hugs him again, holding him a little tighter. Logan squeezes her in return, pressing a kiss to the side of her head before patting her back to signal she needs to let him go.

  I wrap an arm over Lorna’s shoulders and guide her to the door, taking a final glance back to find Logan watching me. Smiling weakly at him, he returns mine without strength. Ben says something to Logan, and he glances back down at his pump. With that, I close the door, leaving the friends to sort things out.

  31

  [Logan]

  It had been a long day of sunshine and annoying friendship, and I’d counted the minutes until I could be alone with Autumn. I was a little light-headed when we went to her room, but I ignored the sensation as too much sun and a shitty mood. Sex with my woman would make up for all of it. But something happened as I was thrusting into her, exerting the energy to please her and ignoring the signs wasn’t smart. An out-of-body experience I rapidly lost control over occurred.

  I hadn’t had a diabetic episode in a long, long time, and it could have been attributed to any number of things. Add in vigorous sex, and I’m not certain what happened. No matter what, I feel terrible, and I’m riddled with concern that I’ve hurt both my girls tonight. Lorna and I have talked about my diabetes at great length, but it isn’t her responsibility to take care of me. In her reaction to me, Autumn's hesitancy tells me she feels guilty as though she did something wrong when it wasn’t her fault either. It’s just my body. We haven’t discussed the particulars of my disease. It’s not exactly sexy talk, but Ben is right. I need to inform Autumn. I typically keep glucose tablets or honey sticks in a pocket, but I didn’t have any on me tonight. It was irresponsible on my part.

  While I’d like nothing more than to curl up next to Autumn and hold her tight, reassuring her of everything, I need to get my glucose levels back in range and desperately need a shower. Ben guides me back to the apartment over the garage, where I do a finger prick test from a kit and drink more juice. Ben hovers. He suggests I go to an urgent care facility for a check, but I don’t want to go. My body will regulate once the glucose tablets flow. I have a call-in number for my pump.

  Returning to the main room once I’ve showered, Mason and Zack both watch me. Ben has obviously informed them about what happened. It hits me hard that it’s been an interesting forty-eight hours. Chloe’s departure. Lorna’s and my arrival in Lakeside. The reunion with Autumn. Lorna’s period. My diabetes. I’m whipped, and the stress on my friends’ faces adds to my exhaustion.

  “I’m sorry to worry you, man,” I admit, falling on the cushion next to Ben.

  “What happened?” Zack asks from his seat on a second couch in the room.

  “Zealous activity.” I swipe a hand through my wet hair, waiting out the next question.

  “What? How?” Zack asks. When I was diagnosed with diabetes in my thirties and told the guys, Zack suddenly became a medical expert on it. He wanted to know what to do should something happen. I have no doubt he’s suddenly investigating pancreatic cancer on Ben’s behalf.

  “Do I want to hear this?” Ben interjects, quick to cut off unnecessary information while tipping up a brow.

  All eyes are on me, waiting for an answer, wanting more details. “I was with Autumn.” It’s embarrassing to admit only from the standpoint I could have hurt her.

  Mason chokes from his position in the kitchenette area, pouring himself a drink. “Way to go, man.”

  “Fuck,” Zack groans, swiping a hand over his head. We’re all silent for a moment.

  “I don’t want to be like that,” Ben quietly states.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I don’t want Anna to worry about me or see me going into some kind of state.” I’m not offended by Ben’s statement. He doesn’t mean anything malicious. I didn’t want Autumn to ever see me like I was either, and I’m still concerned I might have said or done something to her. But I also realize I need to educate her. We need to talk about my condition so I don’t scare her in the future, should something happen again. I’m confident Anna already knows as much as she can about Ben’s situation, and she loves him. She’ll do anything for him.

  “Ben,” I warn, knowing what happened to me is different than what will happen to him.

  “That’s why I’m here.” Mason attempts to tease as he circles around to the couches and takes a seat near Zack. He holds a small tumbler in his hands.

  “I don’t want anyone responsible for me like that,” Ben admits. “Especially not Anna.”

  Hearing Ben’s concerns are a bit of a reality check. My insulin-producing cells have attacked my pancreas, yet I’m able to manage my life accordingly. Ben has pancreatic cancer, something that could be managed with chemotherapy, but not for long. Neither of us can be cured. One of us has fate at our door sooner rather than later, and guilt punches me in the gut. It isn’t fair.

  “I don’t want to hurt her,” Ben whispers, speaking of his wife, and my eyes lower to his wrists. Ben finally broke and told me I was trying to fight him off, pushing at him to release me while he administered the juice. If it had been Autumn, I could have broken her wrists. I swallow hard at the notion.

  “It won’t happen,” I try to assure Ben, but he looks at me by rolling his head on the back of the couch.

  “You need to talk to my sister. If this is happening between you two, she needs to know all she can to help you.”

  “This is happening with your sister,” I tell him, hoping to end this conversation while taking his warning.

  “I have a serious question for you, then,” Mason interjects.

  “Mace,” Zack warns.

  “If you and Autumn are happening, how will it work? Long distance?” Mason swipes a hand through his artful hair. “Phone sex. Frequent texts. Lonely nights without her.”

  “Do not say phone sex and my sister in the same sentence,” Ben warns.

  “I’m just being realistic. We aren’t kids. This could be the real deal for you.” Mason’s strong tone surprises me. I stare at my old roommate and first friend in college. Admittedly, I’d grown closer to Ben over the years, but Mason was still my roommate, which gave us our own bond. How do I answer him? I wanted to give and be given love. I wanted to be accepted for who I am. A decent man. Still a little chubby. A guy with diabetes and a daughter. Without answering Mason, he continues.

  “
Do you want to keep overworking the nine-to-five grind? Do you want to live there when your girl is here?” He points at the carpet, but he means Lakeside. “Just think about it.”

  “Is this about Four Points?” I question. Is this more about his investment idea than my personal preferences?

  “Ignore him,” Ben states.

  “This is important, dammit,” Mason continues. “Are you living or existing?” Once again, I don’t have an answer for him, and my former roommate hastily stands.

  “Think about it,” he states before disappearing into his bedroom and shutting out the three of us.

  “He may be on to something,” Zack admits. “What do you want? It’s your life, Logan. What’s going to make you happy?”

  “I didn’t know I was unhappy.”

  “Neither did I,” Zack cautiously states. “I thought Jeanine and I were just who we were. Not everyone can be Ben and Anna.” He pauses for a moment, and I can sense the wheels spinning in his head. “You’ve been committed to Chloe even though you were no longer married to her. You stayed in Indy for her and Lorna. But now what? Nothing’s holding you back. You can move onto something bigger, better, other. I understand, man. I’m re-evaluating a lot in my life, and I’m noticing how empty it’s been.”

  I understand where Zack is coming from, but I’m well past the newly divorced phase and into the single parenthood stage. I have responsibilities, and I need to be rational. I can’t just pick up and move.

  “Even you, Ben,” Zack continues. “What do you want? You still have a life to live. What will you do with it?”

  “Love Anna. Be present for my children. Live a simpler life here at the lake.”

  “No offense, man, but you aren’t dead yet. What about your head? How will you keep busy? What will stimulate you?” Zack smacks the side of his head.

  “I’m going to consult at Dad’s company.”

  “You could grow it. Move it into something more,” Zack encourages.

  “Are you seriously in favor of this idea?” I question Zack.

  “I wouldn’t have offered to pay your portion if I wasn’t.” I’m a little surprised. Zack’s been quick to jump on board with Mason’s dream. Our dream. And I’m still in shock how easily he offered to foot my initial investment in this possible venture.

 

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