by Nicky Webber
It was a Wednesday morning, so there were only a few cars in the parking lot. Maddy, pleased at organizing such an obscure place to meet, waited inside her sedan until Logan arrived. It had been a tough few years since Hawke was born. Dealing with Logan had proven stressful, as he swam very close to the edge of acceptable, tormenting her with comments about her youngest son. Several times he had made associations around the dinner table while both families celebrated Hawke’s birthdays. Only last year he had commented how Hawke looked more like him than Fred.
‘You wish!’ responded Fred immediately. ‘He’s too good looking and intelligent to share your genes, Bud.’
Logan glanced at Maddy, who smiled and nodded, straining to laugh as they all looked at one another. When Fred turned his back, Logan grinned and lifted his eyebrows. She wasn’t sure what he was signaling. It seemed smart ass, ‘look what I can get away with’ adding a dollop of arrogance to torture her. Was it distorted revenge, a payback masked under his not-so-surreptitious jibes? It was unfair because she could not respond in front of the others. Sometimes Maddy wanted to kick him so hard, ideally in the nuts with enough force to make his eyes water. She bit her lip and turned away. She had never noticed this cruel streak in Logan before. Or had the circumstances pushed him too far? The situation was unfair to them all.
It took all her strength to control the shot of adrenalin savagely coursing through her veins. There were several arguments, with Uncle Logan reluctantly agreeing, retreating to his promised status. But after several months of refuge, he would raise an eyebrow and glance across the room at Maddy while they were all together, indicating that Hawke had responded with something in a very Loganian way. Now that Hawke was entering his early teens, Logan was making Maddy more uncomfortable and fearful that he could not hold his position. She needed to pull him into line, once and for all.
A wave of sadness enveloped her as the age-old conflict between being sensible, pragmatic and good. contrasted with their secretive, lying and underhanded behaviors. His conduct risked exposing the nasty dark underbelly of their affair. Maddy wanted to run away into the welcoming sunset to a normal, blissful life. Fanciful, of course. She knew there is no blissful in life. No wonder so many people self-medicate with alcohol and drugs, addictions to imaginary bliss, and afterwards suffer the hangover of harsh reality.
A loud thud on the trunk of Maddy’s car abruptly jolted her from mental ramblings. It was Logan, smiling, pleased to have some time alone and slightly worried about her insistence on walking along the dirt trail through the park. Nice idea, he thought, but a little disconcerting. He had pushed his worries to the back of his mind on the drive over.
Logan knew Maddy well enough to feel reassured by their history. They always returned to the same place, together and in secret.
The pair set off through the old turn-style, exchanging pleasantries, and followed the pathway up the gentle slope into the forest. It was another sunny day. Shafts of light blasted through the branches. Solar bursts dappled the earth as they strolled along the narrow trail. After a few minutes, and confident they were both alone, Logan took Maddy’s hand, and they happily walked together. Maddy wished it could always be this way. She tried to ignore the gnawing purpose of their meeting.
‘This is hard for me,’ she started. ‘But I need to talk something through.’
‘Okay.’ he turned and smiled at her, oblivious, as she let his hand go.
‘I’m finding it very difficult to handle you in the same room with Hawke. You seem unable to resist making snide remarks or gestures behind Fred’s back. It’s only a matter of time before he catches you out.’
‘I’ve apologized, Maddy. I don’t mean to cause any hurt. It’s just something’s going on or being said… well, I just can’t help it half the time.’ Logan knew it was going to be one of those conversations. A venting session that would go around the houses and lead straight back to the same starting point. He would let her vent and watch himself next time.
‘I know. And I really understand,’ she said. ‘But this is a high stakes game, well it’s not a game, but you seem to think it is. Hawke’s no longer a little kid, he’s going to catch on, and what then? Do you want this situation exposed after all these years?’
Logan fell silent. He reached for her hand again, but she refused to take it.
‘I don’t want to do this, Logy. We are compromising our lives if we carry on like this. I need to think of my children, and of course, Fred. It’s confronting. It’s getting harder and harder to live with these lies between us. I just can’t do it anymore.’
He stopped, turning his face towards hers. He looked shaken and uncertain. ‘Well, what do you want to do?’
‘I’ve thought about it long and hard. It’s been torturous. I think if you can’t keep to your promise, can’t keep to your word, then it is completely over between us. I can’t handle any more drama and stress in my life.’ Tears welled into her eyes, but her voice remained calmly modulated to reduce inflaming their conversation.
Logan reacted immediately, his voice sharpened with controlled anger. ‘So, I’m going to be punished now? Like a child? Is that your solution? I’m his father, Maddy. I’m Hawke’s father.’
‘You don’t know for sure,’ she snapped back in a depreciative tone.
He raised his eyebrows. The blood drained from his face as he battled to contain his response.
‘Shall I have a paternity test now and find out for certain? Why not? I’m up for it because I know one hundred percent that he’s my son. I’m convinced of it. Hell, I have two daughters and all three of them look alike.’
Maddy said nothing, glancing down at her shoes, sapped of the will to carry on with the argument.
‘Hawke even has his grandfather’s mannerisms,’ he explained as evidence to back up his paternity. ‘You’ve said it yourself!’
‘Remember, you agreed to step back and be Uncle Logan,’ Maddy stated. ‘You agreed to play it this way, with Fred being Hawke’s dad. Why do you want to upset everything now while he’s very much Fred’s son?’
‘I don’t, but you brought it up,’ he simply responded.
Maddy felt rage rising in her constricted throat. ‘Why? Because I’m always under the gun with you and your stupid game of playing Hawke’s daddy. This is not what we agreed!’
Her voice was intensifying. ‘What part of pull your damn head in are you not getting?’ she said.
‘It’s easy to come up with this plan, and I thought we were through the worst of it.’ Logan said. ‘But as he’s growing up, I realize I really want to be a part of Hawke’s life. It’s getting harder and harder to pretend I’m only on the periphery, surplus to requirements.’
‘Screw you, Logan!’ Maddy said in a harsh whisper. ‘This was the deal. Now, after all this time, you want to torment and insult Fred and me, not to mention our collective children? You’re letting your stupid ego driven Daddy desires get in the way!’
‘I agreed to your terms, so we could continue being together. But now you want to cut me off too?’ he said.
‘Only because you’re acting like a damn idiot. You risk everything, by pulling a stunt like this.’ Recalling Logan’s voice a week ago, she imitated his sarcastic, manipulative voice; ‘I look more like Hawke than you do, Fred.’
Stony silence washed over them both as they ambled forward again, following the dirt track. Maddy was the first to speak.
‘Do you think it’s only you who suffers?’ she finally broke the heavy silence. ‘It’s hard on me, too. Every time I look at Hawke, I see you. I worry about him and how he would cope if he knew the truth about you.’
‘What do you propose? What gold-plated answer have you developed to resolve this mess?’ Logan asked, his words sharp, edged with anger and frustration.
She stopped, turning to face him. She grabbed his arm and held his gaze. ‘It’s over. You and I are over.’
CHAPTER 13
Knuckling Down
Life, as
it has a propensity to do, fell into its usual routine and the Jones and Davis families descended into their predictable world of work, children and shared meals together over weekends. Being back from New Zealand didn’t stop Logan’s private emails to Maddy. As soon as he went away on business trips, he would secretly communicate with her again, as if their affair had never ended. For the first six months after their walk through the forest, Maddy kept her distance and tried to negotiate with Logan about the foolhardy and ridiculous nature of their relationship continuing under the noses of their respective spouses. He agreed but continued to email her. He knew she would eventually relent.
Dearest Mitch,
Resistance is futile, my love. You know that by now. I live hoping you will soon answer my calls from the wild.
The jungle drums are beating after a long, arduous flight to East Africa.
I’ve been greeting the African dawn in Kenya from a wild safari park outside Nairobi. I delivered a key-note speech to over 300 devotees who had driven for days to hear my words of wisdom. The only terrifying aspect of the entire conference was walking to my little cottage. There was a small separate thatched hut for my bed and bathroom, which had large notices warning me to keep my windows and doors locked overnight. Alarming!
Naturally, my first thought was of marauding terrorists brandishing AK 47’s and tourist kidnappings. But as I re-read the sign, it totally fingered wild baboons as the reason for potential danger. They could clearly well use a suitcase of clothes and my shaving gear!
I checked the doors and windows twice before the generator cut the electricity at midnight. I lay in the dark on my bed with the sheet drawn up around my ears. My white-knuckled hands in a vice grip, listening for savage, wild creatures intent on tampering with me overnight.
This was a first for me, risking life and limb at the wild whim of unwanted baboon advances. I hope your Neanderthal gene is on high alert to protect me from any potential havoc wrecked upon my very soul.
You are always in my thoughts.
Logyxx
Almost every evening, after returning from a hectic day at work, cooking dinner, then slumping in front of the mesmerizing flicker of television, Maddy falls into a narcoleptic sleep. This is her coping mechanism. She passes out by 7.00pm every night, bathed in television’s radiating gray glow. Often she would be keenly watching some programme or halfway through a sentence, and the next thing she remembers is being startled awake.
‘Have you changed the channel?’ she accuses Fred, stretched out in his leather armchair.
‘Yeah.’ He replies, amused by her confusion.
‘But why? I was watching that!’
‘It’s finished.’ His minimalist response is torment enough.
‘What? It can’t have.’ She swivels around and squints at the kitchen clock across the room. ‘Is that right? Is it already ten past ten?’
‘Fraid so.’ he smiles as if he’s won a round of golf.
Maddy huffs with indignation, more annoyed with herself than with his cat-and-mouse game. She drags herself into the shower and passes out in bed until precisely 3.37am every morning. Then, wide awake, she lies in the darkness struggling with persistent issues at work, fights insignificant battles in her life, with her sons and tussles with the lifelong dilemma of her love for both Fred and Logan.
She supplements her nightly ritual with an early morning start to the new day. By 5.00am she is in the open-plan kitchen and living room, clearing away the previous night’s dishes and making coffee before positioning herself at her laptop and scanning her inbox for Logan’s emails.
My Dearest Mitch,
It sounds like you are at full throttle and I hope the issues at work get sorted soon. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.
I’ve just returned from ten days in Kuala Lumpur, presenting budgets and entertaining management with the way forward. Most seem to glaze over at the very mention of retrenchment, but they’ll be at full attention when their names appear on the list. Reshuffling management always makes the troops wake up. Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Even after all this time, I’m still desperate to hear from you. But nothing’s forthcoming. Have you already given up on me? I still can’t figure out what women want. Sigh.
Do you remember Mirren, my Great Dane? I think she was the only female that truly loved me. I cried like a baby when she died and still dream of her. So adoring, loyal and understanding. Unlike you, darling, with your willful disregard for my suffering without you. Surely you will crack soon? Just a few words, that’s all I ask.
I’ve realized how much I miss you. We had a good time, you and I, over the years. And here we are, living so close but almost worlds apart in such different lives ... Don’t forget me!
Love always
Logyxxxx
PS: Give Hawke a hug from Uncle Logan xxx
Maddy smiled at the last line. It was Logan’s way of saying he accepted and understood her stance. She read the email over several times, immersing herself in nostalgia for a lost past. Resurrected memories, past hopes, and dreams eroded by reality. The fun and laughter, the music, the color and energy of their shared fragments of time together hovered in her thoughts. Where had the time gone? So much was just humdrum in the intervening years. What had she done with her life? Worked long hours at the corporate coalface and earned enough to ward off poverty. Fluorescent hell was the price paid to survive in this un-brave new world. From ashes to ashes with no lasting heritage to pass on.
Fred angrily interrupted her daydreaming.
‘What the hell happened to my beer?’ This was a long sentence for him, and it took Maddy by surprise. He must really be angry.
A wave of guilt crashed into her present state of mind. Maddy read online how to kill the plague of slugs eating her lettuce and celery in her small raised veggie garden. Sinking two half-filled empty cottage cheese containers into the backyard garden, one-third full of beer, to attract slugs. They slithered off the leaves and into the beer pots, meeting their death by drunken drowning. She felt proud at resolving the problem without pesticides or toxins of any kind. Within a week she had a kill rate of fifty-seven. Fred was not pleased to hear this.
Men are very focused on measurements and statistics, so it made logical sense the slug termination rate would impress Fred. But the removal of a couple of Italian Peroni beers from his pantry stash, which Maddy thought he wouldn’t notice, was cause for his present anger. His hard face and his narrowed eyes conveyed fury.
‘I ran out of the budget beer,’ she said. Fred’s expression didn’t change.
Maddy met his angry silence with a promise to replace them the very next day and apologized for her desperate measure. Feeding his imported quality beverage to the garden snails was a step too far. He was incredulous that she thought nothing of ‘borrowing’ his last two beers. She knew they weren’t really his last. He had two cold ones in the fridge door, but neither of them mentioned those. Struggling on the cusp of losing an argument, Maddy saw herself as Mixta the Fixa and finally scored some points for her comeback.
‘This could all be easily solved,’ she said, ‘if I had a real vegetable hothouse.’
‘So, honey. Who’s going to build it?’ Fred’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Maddy retreated to the television room and read Logan’s email on her cell phone.
Dearest Mitch,
I recall you both talking about building an in-ground swimming pool. I hope you will not dig the hole yourself? You swimming in the pool naked evoked all kinds of wild imaginings. This sounds much more exciting than endless airport queues and rubber-gloved customs frisking. Not much frisking either, that’s as good as it gets for me.
Remember those languid afternoons at UCLA when we indulged in those Victorian high teas, sipping good old Ceylon. Heaven knows what we talked about, but we used to spend hours ruminating about the things that occupy teenagers’ minds.
Have you been wrestling the snails to their doom since you cut me off from your existence? Y
ou must have biceps broad enough for a tattoo of the American constitution and all its signatories!
Next week I may have a 24-hour gap, so we can catch up in the flesh! Reply YES and will email the details. I’m afraid travel and work demands have eroded any long-term plans on that front, but hope you can grace me with your good-self for part of that window of opportunity!
With love always,
Logyxxxxxx
Logan, ever hopeful, expected to get lucky over a joint lunch break, but it wouldn’t happen on his return this time. She knew him too well.
That night she lay dozing and dreaming about the times they spent together. Fred lay next to her, drifting into a heavy breathing phase before loud snoring rattled her from her memories. Seven months had passed since Logan’s last kiss. She tilted her face up, arching her neck into the darkness, imaging his soft lips against hers. Kissing him reminded her of his long, languid, and comforting touch. Nothing else mattered as he ran his hands over her naked body. She turned her head slightly, remembering the fresh, soapy smell of his neck and gently biting and kissing his earlobe. A broad grin, camouflaged by darkness, spread across her face.
She missed him. It was a painful heartbreak. But she blocked these thoughts, wanting to immerse herself in the memories of his love and the easy closeness they shared. She recalled his lips whispering in her ear, pressing his naked body against hers. The thought of it now sent waves of warm pleasure throughout her body. She let out a slow breath and breathed in the remembered scent of her lover, careful not to wake her sleeping husband.
Maddy remembered Logan’s words, the banter and harmless fun they used to share. She felt loved and safe with him. A reassuring and familiar feeling diffused through her body. After all these years, he still had the power to electrify. She couldn’t help thinking of where her life is now and how different it may have been, especially if she could somehow suppress the remorse and guilt over Fred and Mila.
