A Touch Bittersweet

by Carter Ashby

“Yeah, Maggie. I’ll be back.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow morning. Promise.”

  She nodded, even though she wasn’t feeling it. She let her hand fall away from his chest, even though she wanted to cling to him. “I’ll tell Nate that you’ll be back in the morning. Okay?”

  “Sure. Would you mind seeing if he’ll take care of Wolf while I’m gone?”

  “Yeah. He’ll love that. But he’d be so disappointed if you didn’t come back.”

  “I’m coming back. I said I will and I will.”

  She had to stop. This was one of those let-it-go moments. She would let it go. Let him go. She had no control, and she had to choose to trust. God, that wasn’t easy.

  As she watched him walk away up the porch steps back into the house, all she wanted in the world was to chase him down and make sure he understood how important he’d become to her and her children—especially Nate.

  But she didn’t. She followed him as far as going back inside. But he’d gone up to his room, and she returned to the kitchen to help Charlie and Jill pack up the food. Frank was nowhere to be seen. Spencer was at the bar, sipping coffee and looking lost. Nate must have run off to play.

  “Where’s Brandon?” Maggie asked.

  Charlie sighed. “Back porch with Frank. They lit up cigars. I have no idea whether there’s going to be any attempt at conversation.”

  “Is Frank upset?”

  “He’s quiet.”

  “I’m sorry for blowing up like that.”

  Charlie stood and took a deep breath. “You know, it’s okay. I didn’t realize everything I was holding back until today. Logan’s my big brother. It should have been me yelling at Dad.”

  “Should have been me,” Spencer said from the bar.

  “It was your normal,” Maggie said.

  “Well, not anymore,” Charlie said. “We’re going to make sure Logan stays. If Dad can’t take it, he should be the one to leave.”

  Logan came downstairs in that moment, with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He came into the kitchen.

  Charlie ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Logan, please don’t go.”

  “I’m not,” he said, prying her gently off him. “Gotta go for a quick overnight trip. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  “You promise?” Maggie said, because she just couldn’t help it.

  He gave her a look. “I promise.”

  “Where are you going?” Charlie asked.

  Logan sighed and rolled his eyes, looking like a brother annoyed with his sister. “El Dorado.”

  “Oh,” Charlie said, as though she understood what that meant. “Be safe.”

  “I will. See you all in the morning.”

  Maggie went to hug him.

  He hugged her back, then planted a sweet kiss on her lips. “See you tomorrow.”

  After he was gone, Maggie realized that there was silence. She turned to see Charlie, Spencer, and Jill all staring at her with their mouths open.

  Charlie was the first to speak. “What the hell was that?”

  The debrief occurred over coffee—or in Maggie’s case, a Mimosa. Okay, three Mimosas. Okay, she was finishing off a bottle of sparkling wine an hour after Logan left. The kids were outside playing. Levi was napping in Charlie’s old room with a monitor on so Maggie could hear if he needed anything. Frank and Eleanor still hadn’t reappeared.

  “I don’t understand how you can kiss your brother-in-law. It’s…it’s disgusting!” Charlie said for the thousandth time.

  Maggie sighed and turned to Spencer, who was lounging on the sofa with Jill, looking a little drained. “Can I ask my question, now?”

  Spencer frowned at her. “No. How did you not know who he was when you met him at the house that day?”

  “I don’t know,” Maggie said. Again. She’d answered this question at least six times. “We didn’t spend all our time looking at Joshy’s family photos. And if we had, how many would Logan have been in? I just didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know who I was.”

  “But you found out, like, five minutes later.”

  Maggie sighed. “I don’t have anything else to say. I’m sorry it’s weird for you guys.”

  “What about David?” Charlie asked.

  Maggie shook her head. “I selfishly thought I’d wait to see if Logan was going to stick around. But I see now how unfair that is. I can’t let David be my backup plan. I’ll have to cut him loose.”

  “Are you sure?” Charlie finally landed in an armchair on the other side of the sofa. “He’s such a great guy. And Logan’s…my brother.”

  “Josh was your brother.”

  “Yeah, but that was different.”

  “Anyway, David is great. But I just don’t—” She stopped. She was about to say she didn’t feel that way about him. But after their crazy make-out session at the end of their date, she wasn’t so sure. “I really like him. But my connection with Logan is stronger.”

  “Yeah, but you could be happy with David, right? If you hadn’t met Logan?”

  “I don’t know, probably. But it doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s just that Logan is…”

  “Your brother. I know. Can I ask my question, now?”

  “One more thing,” Charlie said.

  Spencer interrupted her. “Ask your question, Maggie.”

  Maggie sighed and searched her buzzed brain for the question that had come up earlier that no one would answer because they were too preoccupied with how weird it was that she’d kissed their brother. “Oh, I remember,” she said. “What’s in El Dorado?”

  Spencer nodded. “Logan’s real dad lives there.”

  “All the way in Texas?”

  “Actually, it’s El Dorado, Arkansas. I don’t know why he needs to go see him.”

  Maggie wondered that, too. What about this day and its events had caused Logan to need to go see his dad. “So…he’s not in prison?”

  “No,” Charlie said, “he only spent a year in prison. He’s been out ever since. From what Mom said, he checked out of her and Logan’s lives completely. And then I know Logan went to visit him right after he graduated high school—his first time seeing him, I believe. I don’t really know what went down. Logan keeps that stuff to himself.”

  Maggie hugged her empty water glass—at some point the champagne flute just wasn’t holding enough liquid. She thought about Logan driving all by himself to go talk to a man who’d abused and abandoned him. What must it take for someone to reach out, like that?

  Maggie’s own family was fine. They weren’t close, or anything, but they got together for holidays. If she was a little sad about the lack of closeness, which she was, the pain was eased by Josh’s family, who had embraced her like one of their own. Maybe she could do more to strengthen her own family bonds. But she couldn’t imagine reaching out to someone who had once hurt her as badly as Logan’s father had hurt him.

  The sound of squeaky floorboards caught Maggie’s attention. She turned to see an exhausted Frank making his way down the hall from the bedroom into the living area. He stopped at the edge of the living room and sighed. “Where’s Logan? Your momma wants to speak to him.”

  Charlie answered. “He’s gone. He’ll be back, tomorrow.”

  Maggie noticed Charlie didn’t volunteer any information about where he was going.

  Frank looked infuriated. “He just left? Without saying goodbye to your mother?”

  “He’s coming back in the morning,” Charlie repeated.

  Frank shook his head. “Inconsiderate. Selfish bastard, is what he is.”

  Maggie felt heat flood her chest and neck and face.

  “Dad, I don’t want to hear this, anymore,” Spencer said.

  Frank looked at him, surprised.

  Spencer stood next to Charlie, facing Frank. “Logan’s our brother. You didn’t want him for a son, but we want him for our brother. You can’t stand between him and us anymore. We lost Joshy… We don�
�t want to lose Logan, too.”

  Frank seemed to age right before Maggie’s eyes. He didn’t seem quite as tall. His cheeks were more sunken. His eyes watered slightly. “I never did stand between him and you.”

  “You did, though,” Spencer said. “You kept him separate from us. Hell, his bedroom is in the attic, for crying out loud. He was always working while we were playing. Sometimes you even punished him by making him eat in the kitchen while we all sat at the table together.”

  Frank stood, trembling.

  “Honestly, I didn’t want to see it. Or believe it,” Spencer said. “I wanted to pretend everything was okay, but it’s not normal for a brother from a perfectly happy, healthy family, to just move away and never visit for fifteen years. It’s not normal! And Mom’s dying. She deserves to have all her children around her. It’s painful enough gathering around our table and seeing that empty space that Joshy used to take up. You have no right trying to take away another one of her sons. That’s all I have to say.”

  Spencer left the house, Jill shuffling after him, grabbing her purse along the way.

  Charlie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She released her breath and embraced Frank. “I love you, Dad. But you have to fix this.”

  Then she left.

  Maggie found herself sitting on the edge of her chair alone in the room with a weary old man who’d carried hate around with him for way too long. Was it even possible for him to heal at this point?

  “Why do you hate him?” Maggie asked.

  Frank shook his head. “I don’t hate him.”

  “Then…why do you not want him here?”

  The silence lasted a long time. It got uncomfortable, but Maggie kept staring at Frank. He could either leave or answer her question, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Eleanor was everything to me. We grew up together. She got with a bad man, and I almost had her talked out of leaving him. Then she got pregnant.”

  “It’s not Logan’s fault.”

  “I know it’s not his fault. Can’t look at him without remembering the bruises on her face. Can’t look at him without thinking of all the times I couldn’t help her. I know he was just a kid. But he was the thing standing between me and her. You think I hate him, you should see the way he looks at me. Never forget that little guy, six years old or so, Gracie’s age, glaring at me like he wanted to kill me.”

  Maggie felt her eyes stinging. “You sure he wasn’t just reflecting your own hatred back at you?”

  Frank grew quiet.

  Maggie stood on somewhat wobbly legs. She took her empty glass to the kitchen, then went on the back porch to sit, sober up, and watch her kids play.

  She thought of Logan driving all alone. She thought of all he must be going through on the inside. Of how willing he was to hear and learn and grow. She thought about how she would make room in her closet for his things. Empty a few drawers. Because he shouldn’t have to sleep in the attic anymore when he could be sharing her bed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LOGAN GOT A crappy motel room and dropped his backpack on the dresser before heading out for some food. He ate at a small diner he’d found last time he was there. Which was only last year. Funny that he visited his alcoholic father more often than he visited the mother who’d loved him and raised him.

  No, actually it wasn’t funny at all.

  Maggie had been absolutely right.

  Frank hadn’t taken Logan’s family away. Logan had allowed Frank to take it away. All those years of avoiding people who loved him because of the one person who didn’t. All those years of sadness and anger…and he’d just allowed it to happen.

  He scarfed down a burger and fries, then went back to the motel to catch a nap. Driving always made him tired.

  When he woke up, he showered and got dressed. At seven thirty he went to a seedy little bar outside of town, got a beer, and sat at his usual table to wait. A few minutes later, a tall, broad-shouldered man with longish, steel-gray hair came in. He was what you might call a rough character. Scarred. Dragging one foot, just slightly. He wore ancient jeans and a denim jacket over a faded black T-shirt.

  He said something to the bartender, then headed toward Logan.

  Logan stood and shook hands with him. The old man sank into his chair, leaned back, and let his legs sprawl. A waitress brought him a beer.

  “How’s it goin’ kid?” the man said.

  Logan always got a kick out of being called “kid.” He hadn’t felt like a kid in years. If ever. “Good. You?”

  The man shrugged. “Same ol’, same ol’.”

  Logan nodded and sucked down a third of the beer in his glass. It was always good to be a little numbed when talking to the old man. “Anything you need? Money?”

  The old man shifted a little. “Nah, I’m good. How’s work?”

  “I left the ranch. Told ’em to go ahead and hire someone else. Wasn’t sure when I’d go back.”

  “What’d you leave for?”

  “Come back down and stay with Ma. She’s dying, you know.”

  The man frowned. “That so? Cancer?”

  “Yep.” Logan finished off his beer and flagged the waitress down for another.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  Logan wanted to punch him in the face. That was what the beer was for. Because the first time he’d visited his father, way back when he was only eighteen and the most lost a person could be…he’d gotten into an all-out bar brawl with this man.

  He didn’t visit again for five years. When he did, he found ways to prepare his mind, to keep from lashing out. Beer helped. Also being more secure and confident. Having work of his own. Money of his own. Knowing who he was. All those things gave him something to latch onto whenever he started to feel the strong current of anger trying to sweep his feet out from under him.

  “What are you doing, these days?” Logan asked.

  “Found some seasonal work with the highway department. Hell on the back. Pays okay, though.”

  “Great.”

  “You? No more ranching… What are you up to?”

  Logan leaned back and shook his head. He had a very healthy savings. He’d been living off of it. “The original plan was to fix up a house and flip it,” he said, more to himself than to the man. “Thought it would be a good project while I was there. Get me out of the house a little every day.”

  “What happened?”

  “This woman—” Logan laughed at himself. She hadn’t been “this woman” for more than a half hour before he’d had to reframe his understanding of her. No longer a beautiful woman he’d randomly met—but rather his sister-in-law. Joshy’s widow. Maggie. “Joshy’s wife, Maggie. She wanted the house, so now I’m helping her get it ready to live in. So…I don’t know.”

  “You planning on staying?”

  Logan sighed. “I don’t know. Gotta decide, soon, though. One way or the other, I’ll need to find work.”

  The man shrugged. “Things always work out.”

  Sure, Logan thought. Go around life taking zero responsibility for yourself or your actions…but yeah, things tend to work out. That was a really fair way to live.

  Logan choked down another gulp of beer to help wash down the bitterness he was feeling. “Gotta ask you something. You drunk enough, yet?”

  The man let out a laugh and looked away. “Sure. Ask what you want.”

  “Why’d you hurt her?”

  The man wore a bitter smile. He gave a bitter shrug. “I was just a dumb kid.”

  “I had a girlfriend when I was a dumb kid, and I never laid a hand on her.”

  “Guess you’re better than me, then.”

  Logan took in a breath to ask the real question. “Was…was it my fault? Would things have been better if she hadn’t gotten pregnant?”

  The man frowned and shook his head. “’Course not. Wasn’t your fault. I was a kid. A drunk and an addict. Ain’t nothing to do with you.”

  There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world
, so Logan abandoned the last half of his third beer. He felt heat flood his whole body, just under his skin. Something painful swelling in his throat and chest. “You had a kid…it didn’t make you want to be better.”

  The man stared down at the table.

  “I’m just asking,” Logan said, “was it something about…” As he was about to ask, he realized what a stupid question it was. What a pathetic question. What was he really wanting to know, here? Was he seriously sitting here wondering why this drunk, broken man hadn’t loved him?

  “Never mind,” Logan said, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair.

  “People are just people, kid,” the man said. “Nothing to do with you.”

  What the hell kind of answer was that? “If I had a kid,” Logan said, thinking about Nate. “If that kid looked up at me like I was God…I’d wanna try and be like God. I’d be my best for that kid. But maybe I wasn’t the kind of kid that makes you wanna be your best.”

  “I don’t know the answer to that.”

  “Of course you don’t. God forbid I come down here and just once get an honest answer out of you.”

  “Whatever you say…alls I know is you’re looking in the wrong place. I don’t know what else to tell ya.”

  Logan knew what he wanted. He used to be completely unable to admit it to himself. But he could admit it, now, in his own mind. He wanted to be loved. And not by just anyone…he wanted to be loved by his father. A father. Any father who wanted to be a father.

  There was no way in hell he could say such a thing out loud, though. The idea of it was hilarious…him sitting in this bar across from a man he barely knew and saying, Hey, Dad, by the way, could you find it in your heart to love me? That was funny. Hilarious.

  “I guess I’m just wondering if everything’s my fault. If maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

  The man shook his head. “Something wrong with all of us. I can’t give you what you need, and all I do know is that it ain’t your fault. You were a good kid. Quiet and smart. I just didn’t have it in me to be what you needed. Not your fault.”

  Logan nodded. It would have to be good enough.

  “You know,” the man said, “my pop was a piece of shit, too. You think you got it bad, at least you didn’t have to grow up getting cigarettes put out on your arm or called a stupid piece of shit all the time. At least you had a stable home and people who made sure you went to school. I know it wasn’t all good. I know there was a lot of bad. But you ought to be grateful you didn’t live in a swamp shack with only a smelly, hairy old man who couldn’t string three words together except if they were insults. Your mama…she’s the whole reason I got out of there. She’s a good woman.”